Chapter 26
Maeve
“Holy crap.” Rise and shine, Maeve. “Kellin, are you…sure?” I peek under the covers.
He looks up briefly from between my legs, just long enough to say, “Positive,” and buries himself again.
I don’t remember the last time I had morning sex.
I moan as he plunges his tongue inside me again. And again. “If you keep that up, I’m going to come before you get to…oh my god.”
He’s moved up to my clit. This mysterious, sexy man who knows his way around a woman—around me—did he fall from the sky?
He sinks a taunting, come-hither finger inside me, in and out, all while alternating between flicking my clit with his tongue and sucking. I can’t reach him to reciprocate, so I tangle my fingers through his sweaty, disheveled curls instead.
I try not to suffocate him with my thighs as the pleasure increases, but it’s becoming increasingly difficult not to squeeze them together.
How can he even breathe?
“Kellin.” This is not a request. “I’m going to come if you don’t get inside me soon. Get up here.”
He shoots up from between my legs, and in a split second, we’re nose to nose.
I don’t even care that I can smell myself on him. In fact, I like marking him that way. Claiming him as mine. This man unleashes my primal side.
I kiss him, tasting my juices on his tongue before I rear back. “Inside me. Now.”
Raw hunger flashes over his features as his eyes bore into mine. Flashing me a devious smile, he breaks our connection and trails his lips down my neck. He licks a path to my ear, where his steamy breath brushes the sensitive flesh. “Not until you come for me first. Understand?”
I nod, unable to respond verbally to his husky command.
Kellin dives under the covers and thrusts his tongue back inside me.
Gasping, I arch and grab two fistfuls of duvet. I swear if I had a bite block, I’d shove it between my teeth. A person can only handle so much pleasure before they lose control and unleash unholy sounds.
“Kellin!” I scream out as I come. Both my hands shoot into his hair. I try not to yank, to just savor his tongue deep in my pussy as I ride the wave of this orgasm.
I’m shaking all over, and I mean everywhere. I think my toenails are vibrating.
Only when I’m on the other end of this newfound ecstasy does he come up for air.
In this raw, unfiltered state, he’s beautiful, with his flushed face glistening from my wetness. With morning light escaping the heavy drapes and enhancing the glint in his eyes.
He rolls onto his back and settles in beside me as we both work to control our panting.
My hand travels down his chest to his rock-hard abs, where I caress him lightly. “Kellin… Thank you.”
Despite his heavy breathing, he manages a laugh. “You’re welcome.”
And then we’re both snickering.
I maneuver onto my side to face him. “How did you learn to do that?”
“What?”
“Just, I don’t know. Most men—”
His low growl cuts me off. “When we’re in this bed together, there’s only me. No one else. Besides, I’m not most men, darlin’.”
“You don’t have to tell me that.”
I smile and seize this opportunity to really, really examine his bare chest, his arms, his everything. My attention hooks and lingers on a round scar that resembles a gunshot wound. I’ve seen similar injuries on the men in my family.
A chill settles into my stomach, but I force the sensation away. I’m probably mistaken, and either way, I won’t ruin the moment by asking.
Not yet.
I switch my focus to his ink. In the past, I never understood the appeal of tattoos.
Studying his skin, though, I think I finally get it.
I appreciate beauty as much as the next person, and the intricate designs covering his torso and right arm are artful, especially when paired with his gorgeous body.
I’m getting stimulated all over again, analyzing this man’s physique like he’s a living, breathing Picasso.
I try to regroup. “I guess I mean…being able to pleasure a woman like that requires some practice.”
“Are you asking me if I majored in cybersecurity but minored in pussy at Columbia? Because I’m pretty sure they never offered that area of study.”
My cackle rivals the volume of my orgasmic shrieks, causing his face to break into a big grin.
“If they did, they’d need to hire you to teach it.” My hand has a mind of its own as it ventures lower.
He slides his left arm under me, and I mold myself around him in a side embrace, hoisting a leg up onto his thigh. The contact feels magnificent on so many levels, our bodies touching from beginning to end like this.
I snuggle. “I’m wondering if someone may’ve taught you…how to do that?”
He stiffens, and not in a good way.
“Are you asking me about past relationships?”
“I didn’t start out with that intention, but yeah, I think I am.”
“I’ve never been much of a relationship type.”
I suck in a breath. “What about a long-distance relationship type?”
Kellin removes his arm, sits up, and hits me with a hard stare.
My stomach plummets. Well, shit.
I sit up, too, except I climb right on top of him, straddling him. He’s not getting away just yet, and nothing temporarily defuses an awkward situation better than sex. Not to mention, the poor guy hasn’t even gotten off yet.
“I didn’t mean to pry.” I kiss him, and he kisses me back, his hand shooting into my dark, tangled hair as he presses me into him, our tongues probing deeper.
I can feel his hard member against my stomach. With minimal effort and a bit of maneuvering, I could slip him inside me. I rub his shaft with my clit and prepare to do just that.
Kellin shifts out from under me. “I’ve got to hop in the shower.” He rises, naked, like a perfectly chiseled statue.
Except for the fact that he’s rejecting me.
“Sure, I understand. Me too.” My mortification must show all over my face.
I may not have much experience in guys declining sex, but thanks to my family, I’ve probably earned a PhD in the subject of rejection, and the pain never gets easier.
I may not want to involve myself in the Port Kings’ criminal undertakings, but the truth is, that pain never totally disappears, especially in regards to my brothers.
Kellin must notice, too, because he’s back in bed and on top of me, crushing my mouth beneath his. He kisses me just long enough to heat my blood before rising once again.
“I will make this up to you.” He avoids eye contact while dressing and flees my suite to shower in his own room.
I frown at the closed door. Make what up to me?
We’re not keeping score, but if we were, I’m winning as far as orgasms go. I was simply trying to level the playing field. Be a conscientious partner and give him some morning delight.
I felt so good just two minutes back. What the hell happened?
I wasn’t trying to be nosy or sound controlling.
I complimented him, really, and then I got curious.
I mean, I guess maybe some men are born with the natural ability to go down on a woman, just like how Mozart basically emerged from the womb composing.
He wrote Minuet and Trio in G major around the age of five.
Maybe giving women oral pleasure is Kellin’s God-given gift.
It was silly to make him uncomfortable like that, especially after the Florence Nightingale treatment I received yesterday. Thanks to my mystery bug, the man’s work schedule is probably on tilt.
As much as I’d love to lie here and bathe in the sheets saturated with his scent, I have to get to work too. In my world, one sick day is one too many.
I drag my butt into the shower.
Forty minutes later, after dismissing my worries about his abrupt departure and instead choosing to remember the Kellin that smiled up from between my thighs—I head down to the lobby.
“Sick day, my ass.” Lenora practically races up to me and slugs me in the arm.
“Um, ouch.” I shake my head but can’t stop smiling. “I was sick. A virus. I felt like hell.”
Her eyes flick over my maroon pantsuit. “Lie. You’re a liar. You’re glowing.”
My cheeks warm, and I can only imagine what the rest of my face is doing. I want to spill the tea to my closest employee and friend, I really do, but it’s the beginning of a workday. “Talk to me about flowers. Has Jordan given final approval?”
“Yes. And check it out.” Lenora pulls up an image on her phone of a crystal vase cascading with dahlias, roses, and foliage in deep purples and mauves. “Les Fleurs outdid themselves once again. We said autumn and moody and voilà.”
Like a teenage girl with her first crush, I flash to an image of myself in a strapless satin Vera Wang wedding gown, a bouquet resembling this stunning table setting spilling down my dress as I walk down the aisle to meet Kellin.
Holy shit. What the hell am I thinking about? A few orgasms, and here I am already picking out our gift registry.
Pull it together, Maeve. “They really did. These are gorgeous.” My fingers fly across the keyboard of one of the computers at the front counter. “Did Armand’s parents get in? I know their flight was delayed—”
“They’re jet-lagged. But Blaze Starr checked out a day early. Some author emergency.” Lenora rolls her eyes.
I’m wondering what qualifies as an author emergency too. But, still, we don’t roll our eyes over guests. At least not while we’re in the main lobby.
I fix her with a pointed stare which she, of course, ignores. “Anyway, I upgraded them to his deluxe suite.”
“Perfect. You’re a life saver.” I pivot toward the grand entrance that’s flanked by lush palms. They’re breathtaking, and I always spare a second to admire them. “Let’s grab some macchiatos and go over today’s schedule.”
As we march toward the café, heels clicking almost manically on the Italian marble—we hustle for a living—Brody busts through the double doors, using both of them for his dramatic entrance.
So unnecessary.
“Brody,” we say in unison while swerving around him.
He pivots. “Maeve. Can we talk?”
I stop with a huff.
“I’ll grab the coffees and give you ten.” Lenora spins in those Jimmy Choos. As she does, her flared black slacks swoop and swirl around her heels.
With Lenora gone, I drag Brody behind one of the palms. I don’t need the whole hotel watching me squabble with my brother. “What is it?”
“I just wanted to check on you. Lenora mentioned you were sick yesterday.”
I fight the scowl attempting to bloom on my face. I don’t want to frown too much and give myself premature wrinkles. “Why would you tell Dad I was with a guy? I mean, seriously?”
His eyebrows knit together. “I’m looking out for you.”
“And running to Daddy when you spot your adult sister with a member of the opposite sex checks that box for you?”
“It doesn’t matter how old you are. And you know as well as I do that normal rules don’t apply to people like us.”
“I’m not part of ‘us,’ Brody.” I poke his chest, just below his boring navy tie. “I didn’t choose the life the way you did.”
He shakes his head. “You might not have chosen to be part of some of the family dealings like Connor and me, but you’re still family, Maeve.
And I was looking out for you. Just like I’m checking in on you now.
” He shoves a hand through his short hair and glares, his voice cutting above the din of the lobby.
“You don’t have to bite my head off for trying to be a good brother. ”
“Keep it down. This is my job.” I push him farther behind the palm. I’d rather not draw the attention of the entire hotel. “If you worry about me so much, then where the hell were you when your own guard assaulted me?”
He freezes. “What are you talking about? Which guard? When?” With each question, his voice grows louder.
“Like you care. Unless I’m hosting your little mobster book club upstairs, none of you give a damn about me.”
Brody visibly blanches. “How can you say that? Of course I care. Are you okay?” He snags my biceps, his gaze darting over me frantically, as if searching for visible injuries. When his inspection reaches my cheek, he pauses, flinching. “Did someone hit you?”
Guess my makeup job to cover the faint bruise worked for Lenora but wasn’t quite up to fooling a mobster.
Tentatively, he raises his fingers, as if to touch the injury. I shake him off before contact. “I’m fine.”
“Which guard are you talking about?”
The malice in his tone startles me into crossing my arms over my chest.
Would ratting Shout out even matter? Even if Brody cares, and I still have my doubts, my father sure as hell doesn’t.
I heave a sigh. I don’t have time to be this tired so early in the morning. “It’s over, and I’m okay.”
Brody ignores my reassurance while mumbling to himself. “Come to think of it, he didn’t show up to work last night. We haven’t seen him since the night before last. I guess that makes sense now. Is that when it happened?”
“What makes sense?”
Brody growls. “That Shout wouldn’t show up for work after. Because if he does, he’ll be in for a world of pain.” Brody reaches for my arm but lets his hand fall by his side before touching me, hesitation flitting over his features. “Are you sure you’re okay? Did he…?”
“I can handle myself.” Not true in this particular case, but I’m not giving him the details.
Sharing how Kellin swooped in like a caped crusader might make me feel better, but it would only fuel the “be wary of Kellin” fire, especially if my father heard.
“But you need to do a better job of vetting your goons. We can’t have them wandering around the hotel acting like savages.
Sexual assault is not good for business. ”
When I say the words sexual assault, Brody winces before his jaw tightens. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.” He glances over my shoulder. “I’ll do better. If you see Shout again, text me. Or if you ever feel unsafe.”
At the subtle plea in that last sentence, I relent. “Fine. But I don’t appreciate being put under observation in my own hotel.”
“Understandable.” My brother’s lip curls. “That motherfucker doesn’t know what’s coming for him.”
I really wish I had no idea what he meant. But I was raised by a pack of mafiosos and know all too well what these type of men are capable of.
Though, in Shout’s case, I can’t say the idea of retribution bothers me that much.
However, the seediness surrounding this conversation all but washed away this morning’s joy.
Not even nine in the morning, and I’m already exhausted.
That doesn’t bode well for the rest of the day.