Chapter 27
BELL
Taking some time to clean up, I stay in the bathroom for longer than I should, needing a moment to wrap my head around everything that’s happened lately, and what just transpired in that bedroom.
I don’t feel weird about it, but it felt like the end of something between Kit and Wes, and the start of something between me and Kit.
I don’t want to come between them, but the jealousy I felt earlier was real.
I’m not sharing him. And he declared that my body is his, so hopefully we are on the same page about that.
Shit. Have I finally found a guy that wants to keep me?
A few days ago, I came here to spend Christmas with my best friend and her niece, with the dread of having to endure her brother. The brother who hated me.
Now, everything has changed. He matched me in the bedroom. I risked everything for his kid. We killed for each other. And he wants me to stay.
It seems absurd to move here just like that, but here’s the thing I’ve come to realise.
Kit and I have always been more. We just couldn’t get past our own insecurities to see it.
Tillie obviously saw it. Libi is fine with it. So now I have to accept it. I have to let myself feel that thing I never thought I could have.
Happiness.
I’m wary, though. Not because of Kit. Even though this is new between us, it feels very real.
Very right. But there’s this pit of dread in my gut that I can’t seem to shake.
I know exactly what it is, and it’s something I typically work on by myself, but for the first time ever, I don’t want to do this alone.
I don’t have to do it alone.
Clearing the lump in my throat, I tighten the satin robe around me and step out into the bedroom. Kit is on the bed wearing only his boxers, a tray of cheese, crackers and fruit beside him as he pops a grape into his mouth.
“Everything okay?” he asks, and I nod, but then shake my head.
Immediately his frown appears, and he sits up.
“You’re not leaving, Bell. It’s an argument you won’t win.”
My lips spread into a smile, something I know I’ve been doing so much more of since coming here only days ago. I could tease Kit a little and make him think this new arrangement is what’s concerning me, but for once, I just want to be real with him.
Vulnerable.
So, I steel myself, and tell him the truth.
“I’ve already surrendered to that,” I admit, enjoying the way his shoulders drop in relief.
“Then what’s wrong? Was sharing you too much?”
I shake my head quickly. “No, it’s not that either.”
“Get that hot arse over here and tell me what’s going on in that head of yours?” He pats the mattress beside him, and I have to clear the lump building in my throat as I gear up to open my heart.
Crawling up beside him, I make sure I’m angled his way so he can see my face, but I can’t for the life of me look him in the eyes right now.
I can be open and honest and uncomfortably blunt about sex, filth, and murder, yet the real stuff… emotions… that shit is hard.
Still. I’ve never wanted to share this part of me with anyone before… until now.
“Nine hundred and twenty days.”
That’s all I need to say before he’s pulling me to straddle his lap, those strong hands cupping my face as he forces me to look at him.
“I know. I’m so sorry, Bell.”
A tear slips free, and it’s something I’m not used to doing, ever, let alone in front of someone else. But here with him, I feel safe, so I let them fall.
“I’m on day three now, but… will you help me… help me get back to nine hundred and twenty days, and beyond? I’ll need to go to meetings. Find a local sponsor. Maybe even therapy.”
“Fuck yes.” He presses his forehead to mine, our noses squishing together. “I’ll do anything for you. In fact, I should let you know I’m also on day three.”
My brows shoot up and I pull back to stare at him. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t do drugs, but I do drink more often than I should. So, I decided that your day one was going to be my day one too. In fact, in case you didn’t notice, there wasn’t a drop of alcohol consumed at Christmas lunch.”
My brows hitch as I go over everything in my head. There were jugs of juice. Water. Cans of soft drinks, but no… no alcohol.
“Kit. You don’t have to do that for me. This is your house. You should be able to have a drink if you want one.”
“Correction, this is our house, and I don’t want or need one. And God fucking knows my team needs to lay off it.”
I smile at that. “Well, if you change your mind, just know I’ll be okay with it. Cocaine maybe not so much, so please refrain from that, but grog should be okay.”
Kit chuckles. “I’ll have none of that in our house, or around Libi.” He gives me a squeeze. “So, day three we are.”
“Day three we are,” I agree, blinking at him as a warm smile washes over his features.
“Fuck.” He reaches around, weaving his fingers into the hair at my nape, and tugs me close. “I’ll never get enough of you.”
He closes the gap, claiming my lips in a searing kiss, and I melt against him, loving the way his tongue has the power to unravel me as much as his words.
When we pull apart, we are a little breathless, but my stomach takes that moment to growl, and we both laugh before Kit lifts me off him, back onto the bed, and pulls the tray closer.
“Eat.”
Smiling, I pick at some of the food, trying to ignore the fact I can feel Kit watching me.
“So, you’ll stay then?”
I nod.
“Here. With me?”
I nod again, this time flicking my gaze to his.
“Just to be clear,” he rasps, stabbing a finger towards me. “I’m asking you to be mine.”
My lips kick up. “Yours to abuse?”
“Yes,” he smirks.
“Yours to get rough with?”
“Absolutely.”
“Yours to be shared?”
“No… Not again,” he growls, running his hand through his auburn hair, leaving it a mess on top.
“Ditto.” I grin, and before I know what’s happening, his hands are engulfing my face again as he steals another searing kiss that finishes with a nip at my lips.
“Mmmm.” He moans, his blue gaze lust drunk as he licks his lips. “Strawberry.”
A laugh bubbles from me, and he shuts me up by tossing another bite sized chunk of strawberry in my mouth.
“You know that four letter word that starts with L and ends with E?” he asks, and my brows shoot up as I nearly choke on the fruit in my mouth. “I wanna say that to you without freaking you out again.”
“Oh… you mean lube?” I ask and immediately laugh at his frown as I slap my hand over my heart. “Oh my gosh, Kitty. Do you lube me?”
Kit throws his head back laughing, even as he fists my hair and drags me closer again. “I fucking love you.”
Shit… he really said it.
Again.
It all seems too fast, but then again, if I’m being honest with myself, we’ve been dancing around this for years. This pull we have. No wonder we’ve always been at each other’s throats. We were both too scared to admit the truth.
That we cared for each other.
I don’t know that I’m ready to say that I love him despite feeling it, but I respond in the only way I know how.
“I lube you, too.”
A loud laugh bursts from him again, as the door bangs open and little feet run in.
“What’s lube?” Libi asks, leaping onto the bed with us, and Kit quickly tugs a pillow from behind him to put over his boxers.
“Never mind.” He rushes out as Tillie’s head pops through the open doorway.
“Sorry. She got away from me.”
I smirk even as Kit glares at his sister.
“Is lube a swear word like dick?” Libi asks innocently. “Because Tillie said Wes was being a dick for telling the others about the bedroom games you played, but she won’t give me two dollars to put in the swear jar.”
“Libi, you can’t say dick,” Kit barks, and her little face morphs into a frown.
“Why? Tillie said it.”
“Well, Tillie is in trouble.” Kit glares at his sister, who just rolls her eyes.
“You said it too, Daddy. Just now when you told me I can’t say dick.”
I can’t even remotely control the laugh that bursts from me, and Tillie slaps her hand over her mouth as Kit groans.
“Well, from now on no one can say that word,” he snaps, and Libi nods enthusiastically before leaping back off the bed and running out the door.
“No one is allowed to say the word dick from now on! Daddy said so!”
“For fuck’s sake. Why isn’t she in bed?” Kit grumbles as Tillie laughs, not even able to speak as she closes the door and goes after Libi, who is making sure everyone in the house is aware of the rules.
“I swear, that kid will be the death of me.”
“Nawww.” I pout on Kit’s behalf, reaching out to grip his short bearded jaw and squish his lips as I give it a squeeze.
“If I say the word dick around Libi, will Santa punish me?”
Kit’s lips spread into a wicked grin. “Santa will punish you so fucking good.”
I bite my lip. “I want Santa to punish me now.”
“Now?” Kit’s brows lift. “You want Santa’s fist again?”
I nod, eagerly. “So much.”
“Start lathering up that cunt with lube while I slip on the suit,” he growls, and I don’t hesitate for a second, excited for this man to hurt me so damn good again, and for every brutal dirty fuck yet to come.
THE END