Chapter Five
S he eyes me warily as she moves to the cushions I stacked on the floor, her hesitancy making her slow, but she goes and lowers herself, putting her back to the tub. She’s the perfect height to be able to lay back over the towels, which is exactly what I wanted.
I shouldn’t be doing this.
I really shouldn’t but someone else caused her pain today and everything in me is screaming to fix it, even if it is as simple as a headache caused by a too tight bun.
It’s the same as I shouldn’t have followed her this morning or waited all damn day for a glimpse of her. Like I shouldn’t have followed her home .
There’s a lot of things I shouldn’t do, what’s one more thing to the list. Her eyes follow me as I move to unhook the shower head and switch on the water, my hand under the spray as it slowly begins to warm to the right temperature.
“Killian,” My name is but a breath from her lips, but the sound resonates through me like the bullet from a gun. I ignore her, like I have done for months and move the water until it starts to wet her long, silky blonde hair. I focus on the task, running my fingers through the strands of gold, watching as her hair slides over my hand. It’s the only touch I have allowed myself and I fear it is a mistake. But still, I don’t stop, wetting her hair until it is dripping, then I place the shower head down and reach for her shampoo, squirting a good amount into the palm of my hand before I begin to lather it into her hair, using the tips of my fingers to massage her scalp.
Immediately I see the tension around her eyes soften, her lips parting on a sigh. The harder I rub, the more she relaxes until her lashes flutter closed and a soft moan slips from her lips.
Fuck.
I work the shampoo through the lengths of her hair and after a few minutes, I rinse off my hands and then begin to wash away the suds, applying enough pressure to her scalp to keep her in that languid, tranquil state. She is lax, her head rolling side to side with the pressure of my hands and she appears so relaxed, I wonder if she’s fallen asleep.
Moving to the bottle of conditioner, I empty some into my hand and start working on her hair again, running my fingers from the root to the very ends and she lays there silently, eyes remaining closed.
“Wait!” She gasps suddenly when I go to move away from her to wash it out, “Just another minute.” There’s a rasp to her voice, a slight pleading edge.
I dip my chin in a nod and start working again, watching her relax once more, settled into the motion of me washing her hair. We remain like that for several more minutes before I have to wash it out, taking my time with the water until no traces remain.
Grabbing a towel, I squeeze the water from the ends of her hair, but she takes it from me as she sits up, flicking her bright blue eyes to me as I stand.
“Why did you do that?” She asks.
“Because I wanted to,” I stare down at her pretty face, taking in the delicate slope of her nose and the full, plump lips that she wets with a quick sweep of her tongue. Her eyes, a blue to rival even the clearest of oceans, are framed by impossibly long lashes and groomed, arched brows and during the summer months, when she tans herself in the sun, she gets this light dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks.
She has a scar, just at the tail of her right brow where she took a fall when she was younger and cracked her head on the edge of a step and when she doesn’t like something, she crinkles up her nose.
Savannah Levine has always been a beautiful girl but the years she spent away at college, growing into herself, learning her skill and seeing the world has only made her ethereal. She is elegance personified, a goddess walking amongst men. She turns heads and steals hearts without even trying but to top it all off, she’s good.
If it weren’t already wrong for me to want her, if it wasn’t crossing a line I’m not sure I’d ever come back from, her pure heart and brightness would surely send me straight to hell.
There is no way, on this earth, fuck , in this universe, that a man like me deserves a woman like her.
“See you in the morning,” I grumble as I move to exit the bathroom.
I hear her scramble up behind me, her legs hurrying to catch up, “In the morning? Why?”
I don’t answer.
“Killian!” She huffs, “Tell my brother I do not need a chaperone!”
I don’t correct her and tell her that her brother has nothing to do with this. He has no idea I’m even doing it. He’s distracted and fairly so, he’s just had a baby with his new wife and trying to navigate this new life of his while still being heavily involved in an underground criminal organization we live and breathe for.
We are about halfway down the stairs when the front door suddenly opens.
When you have lived a life like mine and walk through each day with bloody footprints and a notebook filled with the names of people you have killed, there’s no way to switch off the constant state of defense.
I grab Savannah immediately, shoving her behind me as I reach for my gun.
“Savannah!?” A female calls out, “Sav, you home!?”
“Get off me,” Savannah snatches from me, “It’s Sloane! She lives here!”
It takes me a few seconds to reel it back in but I’m still full of tension when Savannah steps away from me, passing me with a huff to get to the bottom of the stairs.
“Hey!” Savannah greets her friend.
“Uh,” Sloane frowns toward me, her wariness of me a refreshing take, “Why is there a strange man in my house?”
“Shit!” Sav gasps, wide eyes flicking to me, “I’m so sorry.”
I listen intently, watching her friend blink rapidly, her jaw ticking but it isn’t anger, it’s anxiety, and her eyes, they’re haunted.
“I didn’t know you were going to be home; Killian was just leaving.”
Sloane swallows, “Who is he?”
“He’s just one of my brother’s friends, I was having some car issues, he came out to have a look for me, right Killian?” Savannah turns pleading eyes to me and a flurry of questions flitter through my mind. Sloane has no idea who I am or that I am Savannah’s brothers’ friend, there was no need to lie, so why did she?
And what has Sloane been through to warrant this instant fight or flight response?
“Right,” I agree, “I’m leaving now.”
Savvy guides her friend into the living room and then scurries back to me, her hand gripping my arm as she forces me to the door. I say force lightly, I let her push me that way.
“Don’t follow me.” Savannah hisses under her breath, her frustration causing a little line to form between her brows. Her ire is adorable.
“It’s cute you think that it’s optional,” I whisper and shrug off her hold, heading down the steps and to my car.
“Killian,” She snaps.
I glance back once and grin before I climb into my car and reverse out onto the street, taking the roads back to my place.
The feel of her hair is still on my fingers, the way it slipped between them, as soft as silk and the way that soft moan sounded in the small room, remembering it is enough to get me fucking hard.
“Wrong,” I snap at myself as I slam the door shut to my condo. Darkness greets me inside and I don’t bother with the lights.
There’s something fucking wrong with me.
I don’t bother to change out of my clothes, just strip off the shirt and head straight for the gym, stretching as I go. It’s not enough and I need more to warm up, but I need to get these fucking thoughts out of my head.
I grab the weights and head straight for the bench, my spine hitting it far harder than necessary and then I start the reps.
It’s become a punishment over a workout, the strain I put on my body and burn in my muscles the only way I know how to pay penance.
My breath hisses through my teeth with each rep, my palms aching with how hard I grip the weights, but I keep going.
And even with each curl of my arms, and every hard thump of my heart, I still see her.
I don’t deserve it.
I don’t deserve her.
I cannot have her.
It is wrong.
Wrong.
Wrong!
The weights slam against the floor, the noise echoing through the room as I rip myself up from the bench and storm through the house, toward the bathroom where I slap my hand on the button for the shower and get inside, clothes still on.
It’s ice cold initially, cooling my overheated body before it warms up. I stand under it, head tilted to the tiles under my feet as water cascades over my head, catching in my lashes and the corners of my mouth. I eventually strip from my clothes, shame running through me.
She makes me fucking hard.
I’m still hard.
She is haunting me.
My best friend’s little sister.
Gripping my cock at the base, I jerk it once, breath hissing from my teeth at the pleasure that zaps down my spine. I see her hair running through my fingers, can hear that moan but then I picture wrapping those gold strands around my hand, pulling her head back to extend her delicate throat, her moans and her whimpers like music calling to the deepest, darkest parts of my soul.
A groan slips from my lips as my hand works my shaft, my hips working in tandem as the pleasure builds and builds. I can see her beneath me, her thighs spread, her cunt stretched open with me deep inside of her. I see her face twisted in ecstasy, tanned skin slick with sweat .
My arm snatches out to steady me as my knees wobble, my teeth clamping together hard enough I’m surprised I don’t chip a fucking tooth as I continue to fuck my hand with Savannah front and center in my mind.
My tiny dancer.
My drug.
My ruin.
The tips of my fingers curl into the unforgiving tile, the pain a bite I welcome but it’s not enough. I cannot stop, pumping my hand harder and faster as I chase my climax. It is right there, so close. My skin prickles as all my muscles pull taut and a deep moan echoes back to me as my hand jerks me once, twice, movement erratic and when I finally get there, the climax hitting me like a freight train I turn my head up to the spray, letting it steal my breath as my come hits the tiles before the water washes it away.
Spent and sated for now, I stare toward the floor, where the water swirls around the drain except watching it wash away doesn’t alleviate my shame or my guilt.
The temptation of the forbidden is a sweetness I am finding hard to resist but I know, to fall into that desire, to fulfil those fantasies would be to devastate us both. All that would be left is the embers of us burning within the ashes.