Chapter Twenty-Seven Everest （Kane） #2
Her eyes barely meet mine as she moves over to the desk on the left side of the room, skittishly crossing her arms in front of her.
“Why are you here, Kane? What do you want?”
I rake a hand through my tight curls, feeling the sting in my scalp from the pull, and laugh under my breath. It’s bitter and hollow.
“I don’t know.”
“You’re drunk.” Her lips press into a thin line. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Hmph,” I huff. “What’s wrong with me?”
I pace in front of her, bring the bottle to my lips and toss it back. My reflection catches in the full-length mirror on the bathroom door, and I despise what I’m looking at.
“What’s not wrong?” I mutter more to myself than Sam before turning back to her. “You. You’re what the fuck’s wrong with me.”
A wrinkle deepens between her brows. “What?”
I step closer, looming over her.
“I said you’re the problem,” I grind out, dragging a hand down my face, hoping to calm the riot under my skin. “Everywhere I go, you’re there. Always breathing my air, taking up space in my head.”
Her jaw clenches. “Then stay away from me.”
“I’ve tried.” I sneer, jabbing a finger against my temple. “But I can’t get you out my goddamn head.”
We’re so close now, the warmth of her body meeting mine, and I was right. Frustratingly so. The scent of vanilla cocoons me.
“Like you’re some walk in the damn park.” Sam inches forward, causing me to take one step back. “You think I like having to see you? Think I spend my days thinking about you?”
Cute. Using my own shit against me.
“News flash, jerk. I don’t.” She jabs a finger in my chest, eyes blazing. “Being here hasn’t been easy, and I damn sure don’t want to be y’all’s locker room flunky, but it is what it is.”
“Then leave SKU. Whatever you’re doing here, whatever you’re up to… forget it. Go away and don’t look back.”
Her eyes flick to the bed, and I follow her gaze to the mountain of stuff beneath that blanket. Then she shifts, subtle but stupid, like moving an inch to the left will block it from view.
And just like that, the truth clicks. My father wasn’t bluffing. That smug bastard said she was digging, poking around in shit that didn’t concern her. And I wanted so badly for it to be one of his manipulative power plays.
But it isn’t. She’s hiding something.
“What were you doing?” I tilt my chin toward the bed.
“Don’t worry about it.”
I take another swig. “You need to tell me, now.”
Her face contorts, and she snaps her head back as if that’s the craziest thing she’s ever heard. “Or what?”
I let out a breath, raising a hand in frustration before lunging closer. “Damn it, Sam, I’m—”
“Full of yourself.”
She pauses, and all I can do is stare.
“You don’t like me, fine. Get in line. You know, I’ve kept to myself.
Haven’t pushed the fact that once upon a time you were kind to me—were my friend.
Something clearly changed you into this angry bulldog, but trust me, the bit is getting old.
I might have to do what you guys say in the rink, but outside of it, you don’t control me.
And I have as much right to be here as the next person. ”
“You don’t belong here,” I grit out.
“And you do? You seem to fit in real nice around here,” she says, her tone almost mocking me.
The words hit harder than I expect them to.
Silence hangs thick between us, and I drop my gaze for a second, letting her words sink in. They cut deep.
“You don’t get it,” I mutter.
“I’m just trying to survive this place. You’re the one showing up uninvited, drunk, and barking orders like I’m supposed to jump.”
“Still so fucking stubborn,” I snap.
“Ditto.” She folds her arms over her chest.
I huff. “Just stop digging.”
Her eyes widen and her breath quickens.
“And stay away from Alex.”
“Alex? What does he have to do with this?” She frowns, confusion written all over her face. Her perfectly pouty, gorgeous face.
I don’t respond, only bring the bottle to my lips again, but Sam interferes, snatching it from me. I attempt to grab it back, but she jerks away.
“What does Alex have to do with anything?”
“I know you kissed him.”
She staggers backward, caught off guard. “You spied on me?”
“I wasn’t spying.”
“So then you’re jealous? That’s why you’ve come storming in here wasted?”
I smirk, bitter and hard. “You think I give a shit who you let touch you?”
Her jaw clenches. She doesn’t believe me, and neither do I.
I saw the video. Saw the way her mouth moved against his, the way she leaned in. That fucking hickey on her neck, the proof that she let him close.
“Alex put that there.” I point.
She covers it without answering, but there’s no use. I’ve already memorized the shape of it. Before I realize it, I’m inching closer. Sam shuffles back, that tough girl facade waning just a little. And something about that makes me feel like I won.
“Did you like him kissing you?” I seethe, eyes fixed on her.
“Yes.”
“Did you fuck him?” My voice bounces off the close-set cinderblock, and Sam blanches.
The second it slips, I want to rip it back. But I can’t. And maybe I don’t really want to. It’s clawing at the inside of my chest, demanding an answer.
She stares at me in disbelief, probably wondering where I get the audacity.
I’ve been nothing but rude to her since she showed, made her feel unwanted and unremembered, but have the balls to ask her something like that.
For a second, I expect her to swing at me, a right hook to the chin to put me in my place. Instead, brown eyes bore into me.
The silence stretches, and something about her not responding makes it worse, gives too much room for my imagination to run wild. To replay that kiss in my head—her mouth on his, the way she melted into him like it meant something.
A laugh almost slips out, hollow and crooked. I’m unraveling and she sees it.
“Everest,” she says quietly, reaching out to touch me. “What’s going on with you?”
The sound of my name on her tongue snaps something in me.
She doesn’t call me Kane, not the asshole she’s learned to hate, but Everest. A name that no longer belongs to me.
I lunge forward, fast enough to make her flinch.
My forehead presses against hers, my breath short, fist clenched at my sides to keep from grabbing her outright.
“I told you not to call me that.”
“Tell me something else.” She breathes. “Why do you hate me so much?”
“To protect you,” is all I offer.
She swallows. “From what?”
I pause. “Just stay away from Alex.”
“This isn’t really about Alex. Is it?” She pauses, and when I don’t respond, she continues. “This is about you not wanting anyone else to touch me.”
I shake my head.
“Because seeing me with Alex got under your skin. You wanted it to be you.”
I suck in a breath, my eyes darting across her features. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
“I’m right.”
“No,” I bite.
“Kiss me.”
The air punches out of my lungs, and I stand frozen, trapped between the desire to do exactly what she’s asked of me and walking the hell out of here. If she were any other girl, the decision would be easy: fuck her and leave.
But, God, standing here with her feels easier. It’s anger and passion, raw beyond restraints, but still the simplest thing in my life. My eyes fall to her mouth, slightly parted with full lips, gloss covering every inch.
When I peer back at her eyes, I find them watching my mouth, and for the first time I notice that her breathing has changed, low and labored now.
“What’s it going to be?” she asks. “Kiss me.” Her chest rises with a deep inhale. “Or get the fuck out.”
It doesn’t come out sweet or shy. She throws it at me. Doesn’t ask but dares. Bracing myself, I walk forward until I back her against the edge of the bed. I can feel her chest lifting and easing against mine. Feel this moment turning into something else.
Then her scent hits me and I break.
Without much thought or effort, I fist the material of her shorts, letting all four fingers graze the crease between her thigh and hip. I trace my eyes over her collarbone, over the curve of her cleavage and back up.
She’s beautiful. Infuriatingly so.
I despise that she’s letting me stand this close. That she’s not shoving me away. That I want to kiss her. Then my sight drags across her neck and there it is again.
It’s dull, merely a faded bruise just under her jaw. But I see it, and it reminds me that it’s Alex’s mark. It snaps something loose in me. My jaw locks, heat pulsing behind my eyes.
She let him kiss her, let him touch her, and I hate that, too. We’ve shared before, he and I, sometimes at the same time, but the idea of him having her… I groan deep in my throat.
What is she doing to me? Why is she making me feel anything at all?
And I realize that I won’t be able to shake this feeling—not until I get her out of my system. Otherwise, I’ll spend the remainder of the year torturing us both. Just once. That’s all I need to rid her from my subconscious.
“Just once,” I whisper more to myself than her and crash our mouths together, every ounce of restraint dying on my tongue.
Sam slips her hands around my neck, and my body jerks in response. The second her mouth opens for me, I lose my fucking mind.
She digs her nails into my shoulder as if to peel me open and I grip her waist like I want to brand her into me. Her moan rips up my spine, and I bite her bottom lip in return.
Sam yanks me closer, even though there’s no more room between us. She moans again, loud enough to make my dick twitch in my jeans. Cupping her face, palm over jaw, I tilt her head so I can slide my tongue deeper. Sam stands on her toes in an attempt to meet my height.
It’s like she wants to crawl inside me, the way she’s kissing me, giving it back just as aggressively. Sam moves to the corner of my mouth, then my chin, slowly licking her way down to my neck. It feels amazing, too good if the unexpected tingle down my spine is any indication.
My eyes close of their own accord and I tilt my head to give her better access.
Then they flicker open, and I see it again, Alex’s hickey staring back at me.
My stomach knots, rage coiling deep. I tear my mouth from hers, angrily and desperately kissing the spot where he once did.
I suck and nibble until I know it’ll bloom red. Until it’s my mark on her skin.
She hisses through clenched teeth, her fingers twisting tighter in my shirt.
When I finally pull back, breath ragged and lips tingling, I stare at the bruised patch of skin like it’s proof.
Then she grips my shirt and pulls me to her height to bite my jaw.
The roughness of it floors me and I’m not ready for the way my skin prickles, or how my body surges forward.
The need to taste, to devour her, takes over, and I travel down her body, kissing through the thin fabric of her tank until I’m kneeling in front of her. I hook a finger under the hem of her tiny slip shorts and move them to the side and freeze.
No panties.
“Fuck,” I mutter lowly.
I grip her thigh with my free hand to ground myself as I drag my gaze upward. She’s watching me, mouth open, brows knitted, and eyes glued to where my knuckles are so close to her cleanly shaved pussy.
Without breaking the stare, I release her thigh and run the pad of my middle finger between her slit.
Damn it, she’s so wet, so slippery. My finger’s coated in her arousal, and I bring it to my mouth and lick it off. Sam gasps, and I feel her leg muscles flutter. The taste of her is all sweet and heat.
“Mm,” she groans, pushing her pelvis closer to my face. I smirk. Greedy little slut.
With her shorts still gripped to the side, I use both thumbs to part her lips. As soon as her bud is exposed to me, already flushed, swollen, and preening, I growl deep in my chest. I lean in, and the moment the tip of my tongue connects with her clit, Sam shudders, another whimper escaping her.
I drag my tongue up, pausing to breathe her in, and her knees buckle, damn near taking me down with her.
So I grip her left leg and toss it over my shoulder to help her keep her balance.
Sam claws at my hair, her fingers fisting so tight it fucking hurts, but I don’t care.
If that means she comes in my mouth, then so be it.
Parting her again, I flick her bud with the pad of my thumb, then rub slow tight circles before diving back in.
I suck her into my mouth, massaging her clit with my tongue, all while running a finger through her juices.
Once they’re nice and coated, I slip one inside her heat.
I angle the inside of my wrist upward and pump in and out of her tight little hole while continuing to devour her clit.
Her back arches, nearly bowing off the edge of the mattress, but I hold her down, refusing to let up, not until she falls apart and gives it all to me.
The moans, the shivers, and her cum. I slip in a second finger, and Sam grinds, fucking my hand and humping my face.
I push deeper, curl my fingers against that soft, spongy spot that makes her cry out.
I don’t let up, my mouth greedy and coated, her release running along my chin.
She tries to squirm away, but I pin her in place until she shatters, one hand tangled in my hair.
“Fuuuuck, Kane,” she breathes, barely above a whisper.
My muscles tense at my name on her lips, her moans wrapped around it. I pull out of her and hook around her thigh, gripping her tightly as a jolt of satisfaction, pure and raw, rushes through my veins. But that name also hits a nerve at the same time. I don’t like it.
Kane is the one who breaks things, the cynic that hurts first to avoid getting hurt himself.
But Everest…
Everest is who she remembers, who’s making her body scream. That’s the name she should be muttering.
Her eyes are blinking slowly, nearly under a fog of sleep. I reach for the throw blanket to cover her up. Sam’s still out, her back rising and falling with each intake of breath. But the moment I uncover her things, it’s like the sex haze is lifted and she hurries to yank it back.
My eyes land on one of the printouts, and everything in me goes cold. I reach over her, snatching it up, dodging Sam’s attempt to keep me from it.
My mother’s face stares back at me, and next to her are Sam’s and Alex’s moms along with two other women.
“What the fuck is this?”