Chapter 16
SIXTEEN
When we get back to the house, Tatum heads out pretty quickly because he has to work tomorrow. All the kids head to bed but seem pretty excited about this evening. Braylen is already asking to go back.
Kellan promises they will soon, and he finally decides that’s good enough and bounces down the hall to his room. That kid is seriously growing on me. He’s way too cute.
I feel a sense of peace from tonight, like maybe I did something right. And I have to be honest, it feels nice to get a win sometimes. This week has already been a tough one, and it’s only Tuesday.
“I should go,” I say, starting toward the door.
“I’ll walk you out,” I hear Kellan’s deep voice say, and I can’t argue with him—okay I could—but I don’t want to.
I’ve spent every minute thinking about that almost kiss since it happened. I’m not going to let it happen, of course, but it doesn’t mean I can’t be around him. We go outside, and he’s careful to close the door quietly, so he doesn’t disturb the kids.
“That was a really good idea. I haven’t seen the kids that happy since...” We were walking toward my car, but he stops. “God, I don’t think I’ve ever seen them that happy.”
I reach my door, and he walks the few steps over to join me. I should just get in the car, but there’s something about the look on his face that makes me turn to look at him. “You okay?”
“No.” My brain runs through all the scenarios of what could be wrong. I go over the night in my head, but then he leans in closer. “I really want to kiss you.”
Oh.
“Kellan...” I start, but what can I say to that. I want that too. So badly, I can’t sleep at night, but I can’t do this. It’s not right. I know that. Hell, it was even in the training book when I started. These clients—they trust us during some of the worst times of their lives. We can’t take advantage of that.
“I know,” he says softly. I can smell his minty breath and wonder if he was chewing gum at some point. I can’t keep my eyes off his mouth. “I can’t stop thinking about it, Phillip.”
“You’re killing me here,” I say honestly because I feel the desperate need to touch him clawing at my insides—making my hand twitch.
“Oh yeah?” He gives me this sexy little half grin as he places one hand on top of my car and looks into my eyes. “Killing you? I’m the one who wants to do it.”
God, his lips are perfect. Full and pouty. They’re masculine but still so beautiful, I want to weep with the desire to touch them with my own. “You think I don’t? I do,” I answer the question before he can. “I want to so damn badly, but I can’t.”
“But what?”
“But I’m the social worker assigned to your family. It’s unprofessional.” There. Good. I said it. That was good... but shit, his eyes are so beautiful.
And right now, they’re stormy and confused. “We’re both adults. You’re a professional. The best social worker I’ve ever met. You can keep it separate.”
See... when he puts it that way, it sounds totally practical. I can’t think with him this close, but I can’t seem to push him away either. He’s tall and broody, so sexy that I can’t think.
I find myself leaning into him, my hand resting over his chest and the soft hoodie covering it. “Have you ever even been with a man?” I ask the question that’s been plaguing me since he asked if I was gay. I’ve held back, but I can’t seem to now.
Which means my brain is contemplating doing something very, very stupid.
“No.”
Okay, that’s the good answer. The safe answer. I press him back a little with my hand and look up at him. “See, that’s another rule I have. I can’t kiss a straight guy, or a guy who’s questioning things. I don’t want to get hurt again.”
He doesn’t say anything about his sexuality or him at all. No, his concern is for me. “Who hurt you?” His eyes have gone darker now. Even by just the streetlight, I can see it. The protectiveness washes over me, and I want to lean into it, but I force myself to stand straight. “I’ve been hurt plenty. By several people. I do this, Kellan. It’s sort of my thing.”
“Do what?”
“I try to fix people. And I get hurt.”
“You think I’m broken?” There’s no anger in his question. Maybe a little sadness and hurt, and I want to kick myself for that.
“No. That’s...”
“Because I am.” He leans into me, and I don’t go anywhere, hyper-focused on every word. “I’m very, very broken.” His mouth is just a breath away, and I can feel every single word he’s saying. “But I don’t need to be fixed, and I don’t live in a fairytale world where one kiss fixes anything.”
“I can’t do this,” I say weakly, but my hands are resting on his trim hips, and I’m looking up at him, silently begging him to kiss me. “What about the kids?”
They’re just starting to trust me. What if this ruins it? It would ruin it. This is wrong.
“They—” That seems to give him pause, and good, we need to stop and think for a minute. This affects so much more than just us. “I hate secrets, and I don’t want to keep anything from them or make them not trust me even more, but...” He looks into my eyes and then at my mouth. “This has nothing to do with them. Or our case. This,”—his hand moves to my chin, and he tips it up, his eyes on my mouth—“this is just us. They don’t need to know.”
I can stop this. I know if I tell him no or I push him away, he’ll accept it. But I’m just as helpless as he seems to be right now. I give him a quiet, slow nod, and that’s all it takes for him to lean into me, my hands on his hips, one of his clasping my chin, and the other on my back.
His lips brush softly over mine, and I want to cry with how tender the move is. He doesn’t force my lips apart or shove his tongue inside. He just brushes his lips over mine. Tasting. Testing. Teasing.
I whimper when he sucks softly on my lower lip and then presses another kiss to my mouth, leaving my lip swollen and puffy. I wrap my arms around his neck and move my lips with his, more pressure, more tasting.
His mouth is minty and lush, and his tongue sweeps over mine, and I go weak in the knees, nearly collapsing into him. His body is hard, and he holds me up as he ravages my mouth.
He doesn’t let up. Kissing me until I’m breathless, my hard cock brushing over his. If he’s bothered about feeling my hardness pressed against him, he doesn’t show it. He moans deeply into my mouth, his hand going to the back of my head and sifting through my hair.
I want more. So much more.
I want to beg him to take me to his bed or the back seat of my car, but then I realize the kids are inside the house, mere steps away. They could see this at any moment.
Months of progress with them could be ruined in an instant. I bring one hand between our bodies and press against his chest, pushing our mouths and bodies apart.
“Don’t pull away.” His voice is deep and throaty as he holds onto me, his hands going to my hips now.
“I can’t do this. You know we can’t do this.”
“I don’t know that.”
The stubborn, determined look he’s giving me now tells me just how hard he’s going to make this.
“Kellan...”
“Don’t. I know, okay? I know it’s complicated.”
“It’s more than that.” I drop my hand to one of his and gently remove it from my hip before releasing him and stepping back a little from him. “I need to go.”
“This isn’t wrong. Nothing has ever felt this right in my entire life. It can’t be wrong.”
I want to cry because I know he means that. Not having been with a man before doesn’t seem to faze him in the slightest. Maybe he truly is gay. Or maybe he’s struggling with his sexuality. Who knows? I’m not big on labels anyway, and if he weren’t a client, maybe I could toss my other rules aside. But I can’t do that.
“I have to go,” I say again, and he slowly steps back out of the way of the car, his jaw set, and I see the sadness in his blue eyes.
“Drive safe.” I nod my head slowly at his words before climbing into my car and starting it up.
I can still feel his lips on mine. His body pressed against mine and how settled and safe it made me feel.
I’m used to chaos. The kiss was passionate, but it always is. The thing is though, usually, it’s frenzied and hurried. Tricking my brain into thinking they need me and that I can help.
This kiss with Kellan—it was different.
Because I didn’t feel like he needed me, not to fix him anyway. I felt like maybe... he was trying to give me something.
And I really don’t know what to do with that.