CHAPTER 14
Kian
It’s the swish of the bedroom door over the thick carpet I hear first before the lightest footsteps drawing closer.
The keenness of seeing my girl after last night speeds up my pulse, wondering what mood she’ll be in this morning. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her peaceful sleeping form, completely captivated by how her nose would wrinkle ever so slightly when I gently traced a fingertip along the bridge of it. Or how she cuddled in closer to me, seeking my heat.
I did so many things last night that I shouldn’t have done yet. Acts a man could get locked up for. But then, I’m not decent, and I plan to win, however high the stakes are. And when she finally emerges from the hallway, my leashed heart rolls over and pounds harder.
Naturally, her eyes avoid mine. She knows I’m sitting at the table with a tablet in front of me. Her coiled, tight body language is a big giveaway.
Sneaky little girl, all shy, is she? I can work with that.
Samia is showered and dressed in something soft and form-hugging, her bare feet visible at the bottom of the wide-legged pants. At least she’s not trying to run out on me. How would that look, me chasing her down the street to haul her butt back for breakfast? I would, too.
“Good morning, dreamgirl.”
The reply I receive is a grunt as she heads for the coffee pot like a missile on a one-track mission. As I watch her pour and then bring the cup to her lips, savoring the hot drink, I have to hold on to my threadbare control, or she’d be pinned face first over the counter, and my mouth would make her moan, not the coffee.
“I’m starving,” she claims after three more sips to make her human. It’s always a fun experience to witness her coming to life after she’s had her first coffee of the day. “What is there to eat in this mansion?”
I chuckle. I’m glad she thinks the home I made for her is mansion worthy of her. Every inch is decorated in the muted colors she likes. Every cushion and piece of fabric was chosen with Samia in mind. She was all over the apartment long before she lived here. Climbing to my feet, I trek across the large room and get off on how she stiffens when I’m close enough to lasso an arm around her waist so I can drop a kiss on her temple. The passionate actions of last night and my confession hang in the air, unspoken and unresolved. The tension between us is palpable, like molten lava ready to boil over. I feel her body relax as she leans a shoulder into my chest.
She knows now I love her and will do anything for her.
The bigger declarations of that love will come, but first, I will feed my cranky girl.
“I can whip up an omelet and toast.”
“You cook?”
“I’m an excellent cook,” I boast. “Park your fine ass, Miss Madsen, and watch the expert at work.”
Samia snorts but smiles as she slips onto a tall island stool, sipping her coffee. Her almond-shaped eyes never leave me as I trace a path around the kitchen, bringing out ingredients and pots.
“Who taught you how to cook?” she asks after I’ve chopped green onions and a red bell pepper. It’s while I’m mixing eggs and cottage cheese in a jug that I answer. “It was mostly from my Irish side. Dad when I lived at home and my granny whenever we visited her in Ireland. She said it was my job to know how to be domestic because women don’t like men to act like whiny boys who can’t handle shit on their own.” I chuckle at the memory. I hadn’t thought about that for a long time, but she was always right. “My mom can cook a few signature dishes, but other than that, my father dotes on her so she doesn’t have to lift a finger.”
“That’s cute.” Her face softens as she reacts. “Every time I’ve seen your parents, they seem to be head over heels for each other.”
“They are. It used to embarrass the hell out of me when I was younger. They can’t keep their hands off each other even now, but I get it. They work hard to maintain their close relationship.”
“Similar to my parents, too. I sometimes felt like a spare wheel because no one else existed. I don’t mean I was neglected. Far from it, I was loved and spoiled.” She amends, “But you know what I mean. Dad tracks mom like it’s his only job if she’s in the same room.”
I know the feeling, but I don’t remind her because her eyes are already searching me out, so many questions in her gaze. Asking me if we’re the same.
Yes, dreamgirl.
From the time I was a rebellious teenager working for my father’s approval, an ongoing joke has circulated within my family about his unwavering adoration for his wife and his steadfast commitment to fulfilling her every desire, regardless of how fleeting it may be. While he busied himself with making her happy, he would often flash a grin at me, insinuating that my smug attitude would eventually be wiped off the face of the earth when a woman entered my life and forced me to rearrange all my priorities. Back then, I was such a self-centered asshole I told him it would not happen.
Not when there were so many women to be with. I’d intended to become Manhattan’s biggest playboy.
Maybe for a while, I was.
But his words of wisdom came to fruition, eventually, and when I least expected it.
Samia has become my sole focus.
My entire reason for everything I do.
Underhanded as it may be.
The rewards far outweigh the consequences.
Samia shifts slightly on the stool, and my eyes automatically follow her movements.
That’s how it first happened. One subtle shift of her body, and it was as if she’d moved all the surrounding air like magic. No one would ever believe me if I told them at that moment that I was changed. My goals realigned, and I had a prize I couldn’t have. That never happened to me. I was used to taking what I wanted and discarding it when bored. Boredom was a common occurrence.
Until Samia entered the frame, and everything else around her blurred in my vision.
I’m entirely fascinated by her in everything she says and does.
Obsession or love, it’s the same language, and I feel it without censorship.
“Are you daydreaming or feeding me, MacNamara?”
Cheeky little thing. Smiling, I plate up and stride to her side of the island, leaning over her from behind. I place the food down, but my mouth touches her earlobe. She instantly shivers. Good. I want her to react to everything I do.
“I’m back to being MacNamara, hm? I was baby last night.”
She doesn’t answer, but there’s no need to. The way she trembles as I streak my lips against her pumping carotid artery is answer enough.
There’s no denying what we have—what we’re building between us. It’s too big to deny its existence, and my Samia knows that deep down.
“Eat your breakfast, then the day is ours to do what we want with it.” With another kiss, I let her eat in peace, but all I want to do is savage her all over, stamping my name and possession until all she can see, taste, and feel is me.
If this is what addiction is, I’ve welcomed it with open arms, never declining her allure, even once.
I aim to get Samia as addicted to me as I am to her.
It’s always been my goal; I didn’t think twice when an opportunity arose. I’m wondering if that makes me the wrong guy. Hm. Who knows?
Whatever the journey, the end goal has always stayed the same.
We’re meant to be together.
As I clean up the kitchen, I can’t help but touch her in some small way each time I pass by. And each time, Samia reacts by softening, or aiming flirtatious smiles at me over her shoulder like she has no idea how they affect me, how she can lasso the fuck out of my heart, wringing it tighter.
This is where I’m meant to be. I know that more than anything.
On another trip by her, the plate was empty now, so I tapped a finger on her chin. “Tip up your chin.”
She frowns. “Why?”
“Do it and find out.”
She resorts to the challenge as always, pointing her little stubborn nose in the air and huffing a disgruntled breath like kissing me is the bane of her life. But I don’t miss seeing the corner of her mouth twitching with a smile, and she’s ready for my takeover kiss.
She tastes of need, and she tastes like she’s mine.
Holding back has been torture like no other.
I’m not a man who restricts my needs, and wanting Samia but not having her has been misery itself. Now, as my arms band around her waist and she leans into my body, gripping the front of my shirt, I plunge my tongue into her mouth and feel the spike of arousal as she sucks around it and torments me in the hottest way possible.
Samia is my sweet little possession. My eternal girl. The person I treasure.
“That’s how I want you to greet me every morning,” I say into her lips, tasting how she pants into mine.
“Aren’t we bossy?” she accuses teasingly.
“And every night.” Another kiss drops to her sweetness. Like an addict, I go back for more and more, unable to help myself from taking deeper sips of Samia’s lips. “And any time you see me.”
She doesn’t appear disagreeable because her smile burns my stomach lining. “That’s an awful lot of kissing. I’d have to walk around with my eyes shut to get stuff done.”
Little tease. She reaches to kiss me this time, and it feels like a victory. Her cheeks are dark pink when I set her mouth free.
“Kian?” she puffs in my face, and I savor her closeness, that she’s not pushing me away or acting aloof. Or worse, that I don’t exist.
“Yes, my love?”
Arousal is clear to see in her features as she hears my affection. She has no idea what gift she’s just given me. The secret to unlocking the last latch of her heart. If my darling dreamgirl needs endearments and romance from me, if she needs me on my knees declaring how I feel, that’s what she’ll have.
Her fingers walk up my chest, her eyes downcast as if embarrassed, but there’s nothing Samia can say or ask of me that will shock me.
“Were we always like this?”
I want the words. Need to hear how she sees us.
“This?” I prompt, and her nose wrinkles. I kiss the tip and wait.
“This intense. This…”
“Hot? Addictive? Combustible? Like we can’t keep our hands off each other? Being apart feels like a punishment?”
“Yes, all that,” she leans deeper into me until our skins are one. “Was I always this…needy for you?”
Music to my fucking heart.
The relief feels like freedom.
“When I didn’t hear from you the other night, I thought…I thought.”
“What, baby?” I push, circling a hand around the front of her throat to angle her chin, meeting her eyes. I’ve had a front-row seat these past months, seeing how she struggled with healing, how she pushed herself, and how strong she is. My girl is no quitter.
I know she’s afraid of falling into the besotted abyss with me.
There’s hesitation on her part.
I’ll go fucking postal if she refuses to tell me what’s on her mind. I want every thought and secret, every emotion behind her eyes. I’ll dig to the depths of her soul if I have to.
“I thought I might have a nervous breakdown because you weren’t here suffocating me with attention.” A deep frown etches on her otherwise wrinkle-free forehead. “I couldn’t see you and didn’t like it, Kian.”
How I feel about her makes little sense in many ways. Anyone can see she’s too good for the likes of me, but what she gives me lights me up and fuels my dedication.
Before I can apologize for leaving her alone while I dealt with the scumbag, she clutches tighter to my shirt.
“I didn’t enjoy being unable to regulate my emotions just because you weren’t around. I’m not this clingy with anyone else.”
“Cling to me, baby.” I shamelessly encourage with a rumbled sound from my throat because that’s all I want. To rely on me for all her physical and emotional needs. Samia huffs and pokes me in the ribs.
“You situated yourself into my life, Kian.” Oh, if only my dreamgirl knew the extent. “This new relationship of ours is something I can say I want now,” she holds me off from lunging at that news. “And I won’t say I’m sorry for asking for this next thing.”
“Ask.” She can have every-fucking-thing. I’m eager to deliver.
“You can’t disappear like that again or make me worry.”
“Or miss me?” I prod, a savage for any piece of her affection, to know she needs me around.
“Or miss you.” She provides, and heat pools in my gut.
My lips trail over her forehead, lingering around her temple. Addicted to touching her. “That won’t happen again.” That much, I can promise.
“Okay, good.” Her trust is blinding, and I kiss her again, this time until she mewls and pushes on my chest. “So, what do you have planned for the day?”
My grin is devilish as I fasten my fingers on her hips.
I hope she’s ready.