Chapter Thirty-Three Kane
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
KANE
Kane: We need to talk.
I type the message, sending it to the group chat I have with Alex and Mountain.
Spinning on my heel, I face Sam. She’s pacing, still staring at her phone as if she’ll see something different on it. Every inch of her frame is rigid. Seeing her like this, afraid and lost, rocks me to my core.
I was so busy taking out my pain on her, she only trusted Alex and Mountain enough to share what had happened to her. Sure, she shared about the photo of our moms and how she found it. But she left a hell of a lot of things out. And I have to live with that.
“You should sit,” I suggest as my phone vibrates in my grasp. I glance back to Sam and wave a hand toward the bed before clicking on the text alert.
Alex: Where’d you go?
Mountain: Have you seen Sam?
Alex: Coach is pissed.
Kane: Tell him I had an emergency.
Kane: Sam’s with me, meet us at the crib after practice.
Mountain: Is she okay?
I glance at her and release a sigh. Regret swells in my chest; the resentment for my father is heavier now than it’s ever been. This is his doing, I know it. And that call I walked in on was the moment he ordered all of this to start.
Kane: I don’t think so.
I shove my phone into my pocket and quickly gather the papers to stuff them back into the folder.
Sam stops moving, turning to me with confusion written all over her face.
At least the pacing stopped—that means she’s present again.
And if she’s present, then she’s not losing it, and we can fix this.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
“Get your keys. We’re going to the lake house.”
“Why?”
I hold the pages at my side. “The guys are going to meet us there after practice. We should probably talk about all of this.” I hold up the folder with the pages sloppily shoved inside it.
“Away from here. They threatened you because your looking is digging up something they obviously want to stay buried. Which means staying here isn’t an option. ”
“I can’t just—”
“Pack a bag. Enough for a couple of days until we figure this out. Where’s Gracie?”
“She works out every morning before class.”
I nod. “Tell her to meet us at my place.”
“Okay… but—”
“Pack. Now,” I blurt out louder than I intend to.
Sam flinches at my tone, but she doesn’t fight back. She rushes to her closet for a beat-up book bag and then rushes over to her dresser and stuffs as much of her essentials as she can inside it.
When she’s done, she stands in the middle of the floor, nervously waiting for my next instruction. I snatch up the backpack and drape it over my shoulder as I walk toward her.
I nod at the door, silently telling her that it’s time to go.
Sam jumps when the door slams shut behind us.
“Sorry,” I say when she makes eye contact with me. Setting my bag against the wall, I gesture for Sam to head farther into the house. I step around her to avoid bumping into her as we both enter the living room. She peers around awkwardly as if she hasn’t been here before.
“It’ll be a few hours before practice is over and the guys get here.”
“That’s fine.” Sam awkwardly waves her phone. “I texted Gracie, she probably won’t come till later, too.”
I nod, fidgeting in place. “Are you hungry?”
Sam turns her head in my direction and nods gingerly.
“I’ll order food. We probably only have protein and supplements in there.”
That makes her laugh. It’s a barely there chuckle, her lips hardly tilting up, but her eyes soften.
“Can you order me a breakfast sandwich, anything really, and orange juice?”
“Yeah.” Pulling out my phone, I quickly open the delivery app and order food for both of us. “I’m going to change out of my practice gear right quick.”
Sam nods. “Okay.”
I race off to undress, returning just as Sam’s phone lights up in her grasp. Her muscles tense, fear rearing its ugly head again. Concerned, I move toward her, nervous and already on edge, but when her features soften, my heart rate settles.
“That was my best friend, Evan. I texted him to make sure my brother was okay, and he just texted back a picture of him with a milk mustache.”
I breathe out a sigh of relief. “Does he know what’s going on… Evan?”
She shakes her head. “No. I don’t want him mixed up in any of this. Honestly, if I had known it was this deep, I never would have pushed it or involved any of you.”
I reach out to touch her hand without registering what I’m doing. We stare at the connection for a beat, as if neither of us expected it. Yeah, we might have crossed a line already, but that was hate-filled and spur-of-the-moment. It was also supposed to be just once.
Besides, she has Alex and Mountain and neither of them have the complicated history with her that I have. But touching her now—even just the back of her hand—is electrifying.
“This isn’t your fault.”
She huffs. “It sure isn’t anyone else’s.” She looks away. “And I’ve gotten you all wrapped up in this.”
“That picture had all our moms in it. We were already wrapped up in whatever this is long before we were born. But when the boys and Gracie get here, we’re going to figure this out.”
“I don’t want anything to—”
“Nothing is going to happen.”
“You can’t be sure of that. It’s hard to defend yourself against something when you don’t know who’s coming after you. I think it’s the chancellor, but without solid proof—or even a clear crime—it means nothing. I don’t want to risk leaving Des alone.”
Her voice lowers. “He’s already been through so much, he can’t lose me, too.”
“He won’t,” I promise. “What happened with your mom… after she left the facility?”
Sam sighs. “She was in and out of Wyndmoor during those last years. And she seemed to be doing better, taking her meds and using all the coping skills they taught her. But, one day she just—” Sam chokes on her words. “Life just became too much, I guess.”
I open my mouth to speak but the words die on my tongue. There’s no right thing, no magic phrase that’ll make this wound less raw.
Sam starts to pace, but before she can walk away, I catch her wrist. She doesn’t pull away like I expect her to; instead she peers up at me and for the first time I see everything she’s been holding back. It’s all there, the pain, the anger, the vulnerability.
I pull her in slowly enough to give her an out, but she doesn’t take it.
We’re only inches apart, sharing the same air.
Her eyes dart between mine, and I feel the shift in her breathing.
It’s slow and labored, almost deliberate, like she does it to ground herself.
I can’t help it when my gaze falls to her lips, where I watch her mouth part.
She feels good in my arms, soft and delicate.
The last time I got to touch her, it was rough and heated, but this time, it’s gentle.
Then Sam rises on the tips of her toes and brings her mouth to mine.
The kiss is tentative at first, and all the noise of the day melts away.
A low moan rumbles in my throat as Sam throws her arms around my neck to pull me close.
The moment her front presses against me, my entire body twitches.
It remembers her. Her warmth. Her taste. And I want her again. It was foolish to think I’d be able to have her only once, and it’s been hell trying to pretend I didn’t want to rip her clothes off every time I saw her.
Reluctantly, I break away and lean back to look at her. Sam stares at me, want and confusion hanging from her now swollen lips.
“What about Alex and Mountain?” I ask, hating how nervous I am for the answer. I would never have thought I would be here, caring as much as I do about anyone other than myself. I don’t get attached to girls, don’t care who they spend their time with. But I do with her.
Sam searches my face, her eyes softening. When she cups my cheek, my eyes close involuntarily, my heart skipping a beat. And when I open them again, I see the sincerity in her eyes.
“Right now. I only want you.”
The moment the words slip past her lips, I yank her close and crash my mouth down on hers again.
I bunch the hem of her hoodie in my grasp and pull it over her head in one smooth motion.
She’s wearing a vintage tee that’s fitted to perfection, and jeans that look like they’ve been painted on.
I fumble with the tail of her shirt until I finally meet her skin.
She abruptly pulls away, then pushes me back into the couch. I fall with a thud and Sam doesn’t miss a beat. Before I can make sense of anything, Sam climbs into my lap like she’s claiming her territory. And when she grinds against me, there’s no stopping the groan that pours from me.
She grips my shirt and yanks it over my head, tossing it to the side.
Then I slide my hands under her shirt. I feel the lines of a tattoo in the center of her spine and let my fingers linger there a moment longer before finally reaching up to unclasp her bra.
Sam removes it along with her shirt, tossing it next to mine.
She runs her hands over my chest, and down my stomach, then hooks her fingers into the waistband of my pants.
Sam lifts just enough to slip her tiny hand inside and wrap those delicate fingers around my length.
She kisses me again, slowly stroking my dick and squeezing just a bit.
Without breaking our connection, I reach between us and unfasten her jeans.
“Lie down,” I whisper and tilt my head toward the empty seat.
She climbs off me and settles against the cushions. I turn to finish working on her jeans, pulling them down around her ass, and off one leg at a time. I drop them on the floor then stand with my hands gripping my pants.
Slowly, I yank them down, my dick springing free, already hard and desperate for her. With only her lace panties remaining, Sam peers up at me, and it’s the sexiest shit I’ve ever seen. I want her so bad, I can’t fucking stand it. Pre-cum beads at the tip.
I shake my head, stroking myself. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
Still jerking myself, I lower on my knees between her thighs. She has one leg bent against the back of the couch and the other hanging over the edge as her eyes move from my face to my dick. She licks her lips, and something akin to hunger flashes across her features.
“Shit,” I groan and reach down to run the pad of my finger over her pussy through the fabric of her underwear.
Sam’s hips jut forward, greedily searching for friction.
And I give her just that when I swipe firmly back down from her clit to her slit.
As I settle on my knees facing her, the couch dips from my weight.
I hook my hands around her thighs and yank her closer so that her sex is lined up perfectly with my dick.
I press the head against her clit, leaving the material as a barrier between us.
Sam moans and I exhale deeply, mentally telling myself to calm down.
I want to take my time with her. I want her to remember me even when I’m not there, need to be imprinted so deep she can never forget me.
I inch her underwear to the side and stare down at her pretty pussy.
Her clit pulses, begging for my attention.
I slap my dick against it, and she bucks.
Her hands are everywhere. On my shoulders, my face, my neck. And when she pulls me on top of her, she bites my earlobe, then licks the sweat off my collarbone. I can’t get enough of her. I want to be inside her, to feel her squeeze around me and never let go.
“Fuck me,” she whispers.
Eager to oblige, I line myself up with her center, but I don’t enter her just yet. Instead, I hover over her to steal one more kiss. Gripping my shaft, I slowly press inside.
She gasps.
At the same time, I mutter, “Shit, you’re so tight.”
Not just tight, she’s perfectly warm and wet and I have to close my eyes to keep from losing it too soon. I move in and out of her, eyes still shut to savor the feeling. Besides, the moment I look at her taking my dick, I’ll fucking explode.
Sam clearly has other plans because she fucks me back.
I open my eyes to her hips rocking with a ferocity I never expected, slamming herself against me over and over, using me to find her own relief.
I love it. As much as I wanted to pace this, I want her to take everything she needs.
So I lean back on my palms and meet her thrust for fucking thrust. The sound of our skin slapping and the scent of our sex fill the air and it’s intoxicating.
But the sight of her working my dick like she owns it, her pussy swallowing and releasing me is pure heaven. Every sense is heightened, and every nerve in my body is on fire when I touch her. There’s absolutely no way one time will ever be enough.
I’ll need her again and again. And if I have to share her, I may be willing.
“Damn, baby,” I mutter. “You look so fucking perfect taking my dick.”
I reach for her clit, rubbing tight circles around it and watch as her eyes flutter to the back of her head. With a groan, I keep feeding her dick and playing with her bud. She tightens around me, her walls hugging me close.
Bringing my chest to hers, I whisper in her ear, “That’s right, baby. Take what you need. Take all of it.”
She claws at my back, her nails sharp enough to leave marks. Then I reach down to grip her thigh to open her wider for me, hooking it in place with my forearm. I dive deep, bottoming out.
The couch creaks under us, but I don’t care.
Her pace gets frantic, then erratic, and I can tell she’s close.
Sam buries her face into my neck, breathing hard, making little whimpers that turn me inside out.
I buck into her, matching her rhythm, the feeling building until I can’t hold it any longer.
I lose it and quickly pull out, coming all over her stomach.
Sam clings to me as our bodies ride out the tremors together. I search her face, not quite sure what I’m looking for. She really is beautiful, and I hate that it took me this long to truly see her.
Sam is it for me, and I know it’s crazy considering we were just at each other’s throats. But I think deep down, that’s why I pushed her way. I knew that the moment I let her in, I’d be done for.
Then I remember that I’m not the only one who feels this way.
If today told me anything, it’s that Mountain and Alex care for her, too. And now I need to know.
Sitting up, I rub my temple. “Not to kill the mood, but I need to ask.”
She lifts up on her elbows.
“Where do we all fit in in this? Me?” I swallow. “And the guys? Who do you choose?”
Her shoulders slump; then she shrugs. “I… I… what if I can’t choose?”