THIRTY Jhene
THIRTY
Jhene
One month later…
There’s a very large, very naked Irishman in my bed, and to be honest, I have zero complaints.
Killian’s sprawled out beside me, one muscular arm draped across my waist and his face half buried in the pillow. His dark hair is a mess, sticking up in every direction, and he’s sporting a vague bruise on his jaw from his last boxing match.
I’m at ease waking up like this, our bodies pressed close in the chilly November morning. Killian’s warm like a furnace and the weight of him feels good.
It reminds me how secure being with him makes me feel.
My fingers slide through his hair, and I think about how I could get used to this again.
…actually, I already have.
It’s been about a month since he showed up at the coffee shop for our so-called coffee date. He hilariously pretended as if it was coincidence, then quickly abandoned that idea to be honest.
To tell me how he wanted to see me again.
We talked for hours that afternoon. About our relationship and our feelings and where we were mentally and everything in between.
It was a heavy conversation, but also a light and gratifying one too.
By the end, he asked me out again, and I smiled and said yes.
We’ve started off by taking things slow. Movie dates and dinner at our favorite spots around Brooklyn.
But we’ve also accepted that we care deeply about each other and won’t bother holding ourselves back either.
We live separately but spend a lot of our free time in each other’s orbit, trading off whose apartment we crash at depending on the night. He sleeps over at my place a couple times a week, and I do the same at his studio.
So far it’s working for us, and I don’t mind.
…I also don’t mind when Killian stirs and instinctively pulls me closer. He’s still drowsy as he releases a throaty grunt and then his lips are brushing my shoulder.
I never thought I’d be the kind of girl who enjoys affection this early, but Killian Rourke has a way of making mornings interesting.
His sleepy kiss sends warmth spreading through my entire body. I squirm against him, fingers still nestled in his hair.
“Morning,” he mumbles.
I giggle. “Morning yourself.”
He gives another grunt, his hands sliding up my spine, tracing patterns on bare skin. I shudder through it, instantly turned on by his touch.
Killian tends to have that effect on me. He’d argue I have the same effect on him.
We simply can’t resist each other.
Within seconds his mouth is on mine and he’s rolling us over. I slip under him and my body arches into his touch.
His hands slide between my thighs and I gasp. My hips lift to meet his fingers. He knows my body inside and out, always so skillful at pleasuring me.
With his fingers. His lips and tongue. His big dick I’m suddenly craving inside me.
The heat grows hotter, flaming straight through me and making every breath difficult. Our kisses deepen as his fingers circle my most sensitive bundle of nerves, and then he’s settling between my thighs.
We both moan as he slides into me, and he’s encased in clenching heat, and I’m so instantly full. My legs cross behind his back, and he starts to move, stroking in and out of me at a slow pace.
Pleasure ripples inside my pussy. My eyes roll back as I melt into the sensations and run my hands along his chest and shoulders.
He bows his head and captures my lips for more kisses. His tongue brushes mine, and I whimper into his mouth at how deep he’s going now.
…how he sinks into me and my pussy flutters around him.
“Oh fuck,” he grunts, then drops kisses elsewhere. Up and down my neck. “You squeeze me so tight, stray. You like when I fill you up?”
I give yet another whimper in answer.
The pleasure’s rising like a tidal wave, bound to wipe me out.
He strokes into me deeper, driving us both toward our climax. I can barely hold on as I cradle him between my thighs and feel his thick, throbbing dick deep inside me.
The tension finally releases as we come seconds apart.
Killian works himself into me. His dick brushes the sweet spot I need and sends me over the edge. The wave of pleasure crashes over me, forcing a gasp from my lungs.
Then he’s following me a few thrusts later. He buries himself in me a final time and comes with a thick grunt and flex of his muscles.
For a few euphoric seconds it’s like we’re lost in a spell. We’re caught up in pleasure until gradually it fades and we’re left panting and dazed.
Killian rolls off me. “We should do that more often.”
I roll my eyes. “We do that plenty, Killer. You’re a greedy man.”
“Can you blame me?”
“Yes, I can! You know I have class this morning.”
The corner of his mouth twitches like he’s about to grin. “Point being?”
“I should probably be on time.”
“Five more minutes,” he grumbles, tightening his arms around me.
I let him have his five minutes because honestly, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. Plus, his hands and lips work their magic and drag a second, smaller orgasm out of me.
When we do finally manage to get out of bed, I’m treated to the sight of Killian wandering around butt naked. It warms my skin and makes me laugh.
In our time apart, I’ve forgotten what a nudist he can be.
“Love the view,” I tease. “You’ve got a great ass, Killer.”
He shoots me a look from over his shoulder, his brow cocked and mouth slanted. “Right back at you, stray. And some amazing tits too.”
My gaze drops to myself, realizing he might not be the only nudist among us. I’m as naked as he is. The heat on my skin flushes deeper as I think about how shy I once was.
…and how comfortable Killian and I have become around each other.
This is my life now. A cozy apartment in Sunset Park, classes at community college, therapy three times a week, and a rough-around-the-edges Irishman who adores me and can’t keep his hands off me.
The holidays are coming up, and for the first time in years, I’m actually looking forward to them.
Killian’s already asked if I want to spend Christmas together. Apparently his sister, Maeve’s, flying in, and after all I’ve heard, I couldn’t be more excited to meet her.
The only thing missing is Eva.
If I could find my baby sister and bring her home, then my life would truly be complete. But I still won’t stop searching for her. I’ll find her no matter what it takes.
I pull on a robe and head to the kitchen to start the coffee, Killian sliding his arm around me as we go.
Once my class is over, we meet up to grab lunch at the diner near Killian’s place. It might sound silly, but the diner was one of the first places where me and Killian got to know each other, and like the Rialto movie theater, it’s become a staple for us.
The lunch is filling and satisfying, but once we leave, Killian mentions he wants to stop by the Banshee before we head back to his place.
“You mind?” he asks. “Shouldn’t take long.”
“Actually, it’s probably time for me to visit my old employer and see how he’s doing.”
We step into the loud and warm pub and immediately feel at home.
The place is packed for a weekday afternoon, buttonmen crowded around tables with pints in hand, the air thick with laughter and the smell of beer and fried food. I spot Teagan near the back, finally out of the hospital after several months of intense recovery.
As soon as everyone realizes Killian’s stopped by, the room erupts.
“There he is!” someone shouts.
Suddenly men are raising their glasses and cheering. One guy even stands up to clap Killian on the back as he makes his way through the barroom.
I smile to myself, loving the recognition for a moody man like Killian.
He recently accepted a promotion in the clan. He’s gone from boneman to the Callahan clan’s official Warlord. Ronan made the job offer after he was impressed by not only how Killian did filling in as Clan Chief but how he was able to invade Fedorov’s estate and come out victorious.
I couldn’t be prouder of him.
Tom spots us from behind the bar and waves us over, his weathered face breaking into a genuine smile.
“Well, look at you two,” he says. “You look good together. Think this is the first time I’ve ever seen Kill not scowling.”
Killian scowls in answer, and me and the bar owner laugh.
“What’ve you been up to anyhow?” he asks, wiping down the counter. “You’ve been damn near a ghost these past few weeks.”
“Been busy lately,” Killian grunts. “This one’s fault.”
My jaw drops in offense as Tom shakes his head in amusement.
“That’ll do it. Get you a woman and she monopolizes all your time—for good reason, of course. But no need to worry. Business has been booming even without you.”
Killian glances around the crowded pub. “I can see that.”
I’m glancing around too, taking in the familiar layout with fresh eyes and noticing a couple new faces on the floor. Specifically a server working what would normally be Bridget’s shift.
“New waitress?” I ask.
Tom nods, following my gaze. “Yeah, hired her about a month ago. Bridget quit not long after you did actually.”
Killian and I exchange a look of surprise.
“Bridget quit?” Killian repeats. “Didn’t see that coming.”
“Apparently her new Russian boy toy’s going to support her.” Tom shrugs, slapping his dingy dish rag onto his shoulder. “Some rich fella she’s been seeing. Good riddance, if you ask me. She’s been slipping as of late. Was starting to become more trouble than she was worth.”
My mind goes to Bridget and her sudden designer bags and fancy jewelry and the way she’d snapped at me when I accidentally eavesdropped on her conversation with the guy.
It was none of my business, but now I realize maybe it’s best if Bridget no longer works at the Banshee. I’m pretty sure that guy might be in the Bratva’s back pocket.
It’s only a couple seconds later that the pub door opens and a different Russian walks in. The volume in the room goes down as everybody studies the tall, chiseled ex-Bratva soldier with a patch over one eye.
…this must be who Killian’s meeting up with.
He starts toward us, having spotted Killian among the other patrons. He gives a curt nod and says, “Rourke.”
Killian nods back. “Drink?”
“No,” he answers, his good eye sweeping across the bar area. “I am not staying long. I asked to meet because there is something I must tell you. Something I was not... entirely honest about before.”
Killian’s expression tenses, much of it in his jaw. “I’m listening.”
“When I agreed to help you find the stray girl,” Aleksei says, sparing me a quick glance, “I told you it was because I hated Fedorov. That was true. But it was not the whole truth. I had my own reasons for wanting to bring him down. My own motives for getting involved.”
I gasp as it comes to me.
My mind is caught between the past and present as I piece together what I know about the Raguzins and the ex-enforcer that stands before me now.
“It was you,” I say. “You were the soldier. The one who tried to protect Eva. That’s how you lost the eye.”
Aleksei’s large hand curls into a fist on the bar counter, and he gives a single, sharp nod.
“Somebody want to tell me what the hell’s going on?” Killian asks.
“The eye I lost,” the Russian says, tone hard. But the nostalgia in his good eye says something else altogether. “I told you it was to protect a girl. That girl was Eva Prince.”
“Jhene’s sister. You lost your eye because you interfered when Fedorov…” Comprehension dawns on Killian’s face, and his hand lands on the small of my back as if in reassurance.
“That is right,” Aleksei says. “I have been searching for her since the moment I learned she escaped Fedorov. And I will search for her forever if that’s what it takes.”
Killian and I spend the rest of the day turning over Aleksei’s revelation. We sit on the fire escape outside his studio and watch the sunset blaze across the Brooklyn skyline, processing the news we’ve learned.
Because it’s November, it’s chilly out, but the frigid air is a welcome shock to the system, all things considered.
Killian’s arm is wrapped around my shoulders, and he listens to me repeat myself for what must be the twentieth time this evening.
“I still can’t believe it,” I mutter. “All this time, he was looking for her too.”
“Makes sense when you think about it,” Killian replies, his thumb rubbing circles on the ball of my shoulder. “He defied Fedorov for a reason. For someone. Now we know who that was.”
“I heard about the incident at the time. That Fedorov had tried to force Eva to—that a soldier interrupted it and was punished severely. But I was already in the cages. I didn’t know how true it was. I should’ve put two and two together when I saw Aleksei with that eye patch.”
“You’ve had a lot on your mind. Why would you jump to him knowing Eva too?”
“But if he’s trying to find her—and I’ve been trying to find her and so has the Bratva—then where is she?” I ask. “And what is it that she took from Fedorov?”
“We’ll find out.” He curls an arm around my shoulders and gives me a squeeze. “If your sister’s out in the city somewhere, we’ll find her.”
“I don’t get why she hasn’t tried to find me.” A frown comes to my face as I release a sigh and stare at the fading light in the sky. “If she escaped months ago, why hasn’t she reached out?”
“Maybe she doesn’t know it’s safe to. Maybe she’s terrified and doesn’t know what to do.”
I know he’s right, though it doesn’t make it any easier to think Eva’s been a free woman this entire time and has chosen to remain hidden.
When me and the other women escaped the cages in the Vodka Room, our pictures were plastered all over the news.
Is it possible she somehow hasn’t seen the stories yet? That she still thinks I’m being held captive?
Killian presses a kiss to my brow. “It’s rough on you. It hurts being apart from her. But what have I told you? We’re going to do everything we can to bring her home. We won’t stop ’til we do.”
His words comfort me as I nod and close my eyes, willing myself to be patient. To have some hope that we’ll be able to.
Then I think about how Killian’s always kept his promise to protect me. He’s never stopped fighting for me, and he won’t stop fighting for Eva either.
I trust in what he says. I believe that together we’ll bring her home.
The last sliver of sun disappears below the horizon, and the sky deepens into shades of purple and navy blue. The city lights start flickering on one by one, and I drop my head to his shoulder, never more grateful to have him by my side.
“Killer?” I murmur.
He grunts in response.
“I love you.”
I wasn’t planning on telling him tonight of all nights, but I also see no reason to keep it a secret anymore either.
Given what we’ve been through and what the future might hold, I want him to know.
Killian reaches over and cups my chin, raising my face up from his shoulder to look at him. His deep blue eyes study me, the same tenderness I feel for him reflected back at me.
“Love you too, stray.”
I smile and kiss the pad of his thumb, then I return to resting my head on his shoulder. Our gazes slide back over to the skyline and we enjoy the last few minutes of dusk, in love and ready to face whatever comes next.
THE END