Chapter 23
Kitt
He’s quiet on the drive home. We both are. I take the silence as us contemplating the incredible energy that passed between us during that dance. At least I know I am. We stand in the living room, me peeling my boots off my aching feet, him loosening and removing his black tie.
I go to kiss him. He turns his face, my lips landing on his cheek. My warm, happy heart goes cold, sinking into my stomach. He’s just rejected my kiss. Pain rips through my chest. Tears instantly spring to my eyes.
It hurts so much.
“Bayne…”
“I’m tired.” He turns away from me. “I’m going to bed.”
Why is he rejecting me?
I won’t let him. Not like I did with my mom. I’m not going to just shrink away and disappear. It’s time to be brave. I think of one of the cheesy motivational posters I saw hanging on the wall at the Chronicle.
Trying to be brave is brave.
Here we go…
I grab his arm, stopping him from leaving the living room. “What is going on with you? We had a fantastic night. It was so much fun. And that dance we shared… I thought.” I shake my head. Be brave, Kitt. Say it. Tell him what you felt. “I thought we felt something for one another.”
He rubs a hand through his hair. “You’d be better off not thinking like that about me.”
“That’s not true.” He’s not getting off that easy.
He shakes his head. “You shouldn’t get any more involved with me.”
“Too late.” I grab his face in my hands. “I’m already there.”
I kiss him. A hard, punishing kiss just like the first kiss he ever gave me. He resists for the beat of a moment but then his arms are around me, deepening the kiss, devouring me in his anger.
I can feel it radiating off him. Which only makes me angrier. What right does he have to reject me? To be mad at me? I know he felt something for me in that dance. I’m certain.
He’s all about being a big, strong man. Why can’t he be man enough to tell me the truth? He’s falling for me just as much as I am for him.
He no longer gets to decide if I remain a virgin. I grab his crotch, rubbing at the erection I knew would be there. He moans into the kiss, pushing my hand away.
“Stop that.” He grabs my wrists, pinning my arms above my head against the wall.
I know they’re coming but my knees still go weak when he moves his lips to my neck. Tonight, his trail of hot kisses has a bite to them, sharp nips that light pricks of pain on my skin.
“You stop.” I tug my arms away from him, pushing both hands against his chest.
He grabs my wrists again, this time pulling me over to the couch. He throws me down on my back. “You want me so badly?”
I hate myself for wanting him, but I do. “Yes.”
“Fine.” He unbuttons his white dress shirt, tearing his arms from the sleeves and tossing it to the floor. I follow suit, standing to unbutton the sheer sheath dress. It drops to the floor, fluttering over his discarded shirt.
The spaghetti strap under-dress takes a moment to shimmy out of. Sensing my struggle, he reaches over. “Lift your arms,” he commands, and I obey, letting him tug the dress up and over my head. That too gets thrown to the floor, joining the growing pile.
Carol Ann said to go braless, since the straps of the underdress were so thin and bra straps would take away from the look. I questioned her in the moment, but now, I love her advice as I stand bare before him. It’s obvious he was expecting to fight another layer and the surprise of my naked breasts has him sucking air between his teeth in his lust.
“Jesus God almighty, girl, have you got beauty.” He closes in, leaning down, taking a breast in his mouth. He kisses and sucks, the feeling traveling straight from my nipple down deep into my core.
I can’t take it; I push him away. He pulls me back onto the couch, pushing me down on my back. He grabs my tights, tugging them down, tearing a ladder in them in his haste to rip them off.
I lie on the couch in just my black panties, already damp from this new tug-of-war we’ve introduced to our games. I think of how gently he touched me earlier tonight in the kitchen, stroking me till I came.
I don’t want gentle.
He removes his pants, his erection pressing against his boxers as he stares at my body. “Take your panties off.”
I lie there, staring up at him. “You do it.”
His eyes flash. “If I do it, it’ll be with my teeth.”
A thrill tears through me at his threat. “Fine.”
He grabs my hips in his rough hands, biting the elastic waistband of my panties. He tugs them down with his teeth, just as he promised. Using his hand, he pushes them down my legs, grabs them from my ankles, and tosses them to the pile.
He’s instantly back, face buried in my pussy, lapping my aching clit so hard it hurts. He shoves his tongue in and out of my pussy, then goes back to my clit. Stars spot behind my eyelids, my eyes rolling back.
His mouth finds mine, kissing me hard, leaving my taste on my lips. I reach down, pushing his boxers away. He grabs them, finishing the job. He nudges my thighs apart with a hard swipe of his knee. I feel his hardness between my legs, teasing the entrance of my pussy.
Now that the moment has come, I freeze.
Sensing my paralysis, he says, “Are you sure?”
“Do it.” I want it so badly, to have him inside me, to finally fill that empty aching that his tongue and fingers can’t fully satisfy.
He keeps his eyes locked on mine as he pushes inside me. There’s a bright spot of pain I try to hide, squeezing my eyes shut, and holding back a moan.
He pushes my hair back from my face, my skin suddenly damp with perspiration. “You alright?”
“I’m fine,” I say between clenched teeth. “Keep going.”
To show him I mean it, I grab his hips, pulling him further into me. Spreading my legs, I focus on the feel of him entering me. The fullness of it as my pussy stretches, my skin burning, and then the pain ebbs away into the slow spreading of warm, glowing pleasure.
One that fully makes me feel alive, and it’s a bit cheesy, but finally like a woman. His big strong body over mine, filling me, thrusting in and out of me, his skin growing damp with perspiration as he gives a masculine, sexy moan.
He’s in ecstasy right now, totally out of control while he’s in control, and it’s because of me, my body. Now, growing used to this new sensation, I grow confident, and I don’t hold back.
“I want to try on top.”
His husky voice stops me. “Say please.”
“Please.”
He grabs my hips, pulling out. My pussy aches with emptiness but only for a moment, then he’s flipping me over, lying on his back, guiding me on top of him.
One knee pressed on either side of his thighs, I sit above him. I love the way he looks at me, filled with uncontrollable desire. I love the power that I hold. Running fingers through my hair, I flip the dark ends over my shoulder.
“God, you’re fucking gorgeous.”
Slowly, I ease my way on top of him, slowly pressing through the brief pain as I take all his length. Grinding against him, I chase my pleasure down, a once-virgin cowgirl finally getting to know what it’s like to ride a cowboy.
He grabs my breasts, cupping my curves, pinching my nipples in his thick fingers. I find my pace, and with the grace of a dancer, I move. He can’t take my pace. His hunger too much, he grabs my hips, digging his fingertips into my flesh. Lifting his hips, he bucks against me.
“Oh! God!” He’s so deep, thrusting so hard, I momentarily lose my mind. My eyes close, seeing stars, and a buzzing sound I can’t quite place fills my ears till I reach some kind of pinnacle where my muscles clench down on him like I’m going to break him.
“Oh, fuck!” He pauses, holding there as I come, the intense pleasure making me cry out his name.
“Bayne. God, Bayne.”
My body goes warm and limp and fluid. I collapse against him, my face pressing into the dampness of his chest. He strokes my hair back. “My God, girl.”
He helps me off him, and I stretch out, lying naked by his side, happily squished between him and the back of the couch. But the afterglow comfort is momentary, and it quickly dissipates. I remember him rejecting my kiss.
“Be vulnerable with me. Tell me, what are you feeling? What happened after the dance? Why did you push me away?”
I wait, longer than I should have to, for him to answer.
My heart sinks.
“I don’t know,” he finally says. “I don’t really know how to talk about these things.”
“Your feelings?” I ask.
“Aye.”
The least he could do is try. But he doesn’t want to make that effort for me, does he? I suddenly feel like I’m nothing more to him than an inconvenience or a toy to play with to pass the time.
Deep down I know it’s not true, the truth between us is what I felt in that dance, but it’s how I feel now.
Moving over him as modestly as possible, my feet find the floor as I stand from the couch. I grab the blanket off the back of the couch where I left it earlier, wrapping my naked body in its softness. “I’m going back to my room. I need some space.”
“Kitt. Wait?—”
Turns out he’s not the only one struggling to process his emotions. I turn over my shoulder, not ready to try again. Our eyes meet.
“Just give me the night.” I offer a feeble smile. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
He lets me go. I’m half hurt by the lack of heavy footsteps following me. Half relieved.
I take a shower, washing him from my body. Torn between heaven and hell. I don’t regret a single moment of pleasure. Or losing my virginity. I dress in soft pajamas and crawl into my bed.
I lie there, feeling a new sensation, an unfamiliar soreness between my thighs.
I like it.
I just hate myself for further emotionally entwining myself with this man who has just rejected me. Now that the men know about me, know that I have his protection, I should be insisting on going back to my life at the lodge. With my work, my friends, my codfish.
But I’m not.
Am I?
I’m just another stupid girl who has let the attention of a man make her weak. I fall into a fitful sleep, my pink blanket my only comfort. When I wake in the morning, there’s a text from my mom.
It must have come in while I was sleeping.
You’re in the clear
The police will no longer be contacting you over Teddy’s death
You’re welcome
What? She’s gotten the cops to back down? I should feel relief but instead I remember the conversation I overheard between her and Joe. Please tell me you didn’t put this on Lilly, Mom.
With the time difference I’ll have to wait hours to call her, but I can’t stop myself from at least sending a text for now. I need to know what she told them. How she made this go away…
How?
He’s gone when I go out into the kitchen. Still processing last night, I’m grateful for the space to myself. I get dressed, dolling myself up a little with the green sweater and a touch of mascara and blush.
I stress-bake, two loaves of breakfast bread from the overripe bananas I had saved on the counter. Once they’re cool, I leave one out for him to snack on when he gets back from work. The other I hide in the cupboard for our breakfast.
I can’t eat, too nervous as I wait and wonder what my mom has done. Curling up on the couch with my blanket and a book, I try to settle down. My phone sits on the table by my side, my gaze constantly traveling from the page to check it.
Finally, my screen lights up with a notification.
Don’t worry about it but let’s just say
Lilly owed you one
No! My stomach sinks. This isn’t how I wanted this problem to go away…
Mom call me
She shoots back a reply.
Sorry can’t! On Joe’s boat!
BTW
Give me a call sometime so we can talk finances
Joe has a great hook up for student loans for your fall tuition!
He can get you a really low interest rate
A message comes through, saying she’s silenced her notifications.
And she’s gone.
I stare down at the screen, my mouth dropped. I’ve never had loans for college. My grandparents started putting away money on my first birthday, savings to pay for school. My mom’s always taken care of my housing and tuition bills with that money.
I think back to the shopping spree she took me on before I came to Scotland. We weren’t celebrating, were we. She was buying me those clothes out of guilt.
She knew it would be the last dollar she ever spent on me.
I feel so very alone. I feel the rejection deep, deep in my gut. I hear the front door open. He calls out, “Kitt?” as he’s done every time he’s returned home since he brought me here.
“Just reading in the living room.”
He gives me space, staying in the kitchen. I can hear him making a plate. Is he avoiding me? I hear the electric kettle quietly coming to a boil, but he doesn’t offer me a cup.
Childish.
You know what? He doesn’t get to be childish. If you’re man enough to kidnap a woman, you’re going to have to be man enough to handle her.
Because right now…
I need him.