Chapter 6
Six
A banging on the door filtered through my unconscious brain.
I was warm. Comfortably toasty. Encased in Kane’s arms, as I had been the entire night. His grip didn’t even relax in his sleep; he held me tight to him although I could feel that he was still asleep by the even cadence of his breath. How he was sleeping through the banging, I didn’t know. Then again, if he lived in New York for any extended period of time, he was likely used to loud and strange noises at any point of the night. I also had the inkling that Kane didn’t live a quiet life in general, therefore, he was used to noise.
I didn’t exactly live a quiet life either, but as a rule, I slept lightly. That rule was challenged these past nights with Kane, as I’d slept deeper than I had in recorded memory. Of course, that also could’ve been because he had fucked me into sheer exhaustion.
The banging didn’t let up, nor did Kane rouse.
“I know you’re in there; I tracked your phone!” a voice boomed throughout the two rooms of my apartment, coming through the front door. A familiar voice.
I sighed, knowing she’d never let up.
I carefully pulled myself out of Kane’s arms. He tensed for a split second before making a sleepy groan and turning over to push his face into the pillow.
Though there was the urgency of the banging and the yelling, I couldn’t help but take a beat to admire Kane. He was now splayed on my bed, his large body taking up the entire surface. His hair brushed over his face, features completely and utterly relaxed. The sheet barely covered his naked body, exposing the muscular skin of his arms and torso, peppered with both scars and tattoos. His tattoos were haphazard, chaotic without rhythm or sense, different styles, different vibes, different messages.
There was an intricate image of a man riding a bull in exquisite detail, a crudely drawn knight holding a sword, a snake eating its own tail, a straight razor dripping with blood. A motorcycle. Just to name a few.
It should’ve looked messy and incoherent, but it only made him all the more impressive and wild. He’d told me about some of them, the cruder ones were from bets he lost. Which showed who Kane was. He’d put ink on his skin for life because he lost a bet.
I felt a stab of envy toward him in that moment, the freedom he must enjoy, feasting on life. I felt a stab of envy toward whomever was going to end up with him. It surely wasn’t going to be me. This … thing , whatever we were, was going to be short-lived. We were much too different to survive beyond the wild sex and pasta at two a.m. phase. I had to remember that Kane was a man who obviously jumped into experiences with both feet, and those experiences burned bright and hot, but something—someone—would come around to capture his attention again.
I jerked as the pounding intensified in tempo and volume. With a pit in my stomach, I snatched Kane’s tee from its spot on the floor, throwing it on before running out the door of my bedroom, already realizing that soon, Kane’s presence in my bed and in my life would be nothing but a memory.
“You fucking bitch !” Kiera shrieked when I opened the door.
Kiera was known to be enthusiastic, but she’d never cursed at me at six in the morning. And she was never known for a visit at six in the morning unless she’d been on a bender the night before and was craving shakshuka.
She looked sober and pissed off. And incredibly put together for the early hour. Her red bob was straight and glossy, her delicate face covered in expertly applied makeup as usual. She was wearing a pantsuit with no shirt underneath and sky-high heels. Unsurprising for Kiera—she lived in heels. I didn’t know how she did it. Why she was this dressed up this early in the morning was anyone’s guess. She might not have made it home from the night before.
“Do you not reply to texts or phone calls at all anymore?” she snapped, hands on her hips.
“I’m sorry,” I said sincerely. “I’ve been busy.”
Kiera had called and texted a whole lot since I left with Kane the night of the party. I’d been meaning to get back to her, but I couldn’t figure out how to explain everything that had happened inside a text or a phone call. On top of that, I was caught up in the hurricane that was Kane, and whatever free moment I had when I wasn’t at the restaurant, I was with him.
I’d left my friend at the wayside, and I was plagued with guilt. I wasn’t blessed with having friends. I wasn’t the kind of person with the ability to make friends. Kiera was it for me, and I’d neglected her.
“ Busy ?” she shrieked. “When you first didn’t reply to me after leaving the party with Kane ‘The Devil’ Rhodes, I thought you were getting banged seven ways from Sunday, and I was happy to leave you to it.” She dragged a hand through her ruby locks. “But then, enough time passed that I figured even The Devil’s stamina would’ve failed him, and your general addiction for work would’ve pulled you out of his clutches. And still, nothing.” Her hands flew back onto her waist, one hip cocked out. “I toyed with the idea that he had accidentally killed you in an asphyxiation kink gone wrong, but then your restaurant didn’t close, therefore, I surmised you were alive. Just ignoring my texts .”
Kiera’s eyes were narrowed, her nostrils flaring, and she was gesturing wildly like she did when she was excited or pissed.
“I get that you’re not into girl talk, but even you, Avery Hart, understand that I, your best friend, at the very least deserve proof of life, if not details of length, girth and preferred positioning.” She yelled the ridiculous words with passion, so I bit my lip, struggling not to laugh.
Kiera was half Italian, half Irish. She was known for her temper. As she was exhibiting then. Laughing at her would not be the smart decision. And though part of me wanted to laugh, I could see the hurt underneath the yelling. Kiera might’ve had a more active social life than me and many friends, but I knew she also considered me her best friend. Me not confiding in her, ghosting her, would never go down well. She didn’t care about the sex details—well, some of her did. Mostly, she felt abandoned. I knew her well enough to understand that.
The apology was on my lips when Kane spoke. “I think you have me to blame.”
Kiera had her mouth open, obviously ready to continue her tirade. Her eyes widened as they went toward the owner of the deep voice, still raspy from sleep. Then those eyes went down.
I followed her gaze, or tried to. Kane was right at my back, and his hand had slid to my hip, underneath the tee I had on to settle inside the band of my panties. It was a lazy, possessive gesture that he didn’t seem bothered to be doing in front of Kiera.
Kiera, who was struck dumb and currently staring at Kane. Ogling at him would be a better descriptive. Ogling at him standing in his underwear.
It was a sight; I’d give her that.
“She’s been busy with work,” he explained, rubbing my hip bone with his thumb. “And when she wasn’t busy with work, I kept her busy.”
Kane made no effort to keep the innuendo out of his tone.
Kiera blushed.
Kiera . The woman who talked about every kind of kink under the sun in mixed company, who was not ashamed of her sexuality.
“Well,” she huffed out, the wind quite obviously out of her sails. I waited for her to say more, but she didn’t, she just kept staring.
“How about I get dressed and go get us all coffees and pastries? Give you two the time to discuss, what was it? Length, girth and preferred position?” he asked, teasing in his tone.
“Caramel latte, oat milk, four shots,” Kiera said without missing a beat. “And some kind of chocolate pastry thing. I have a feeling this conversation requires sugar, caffeine and maybe a defibrillator.” She winked at me before sauntering through the door.
“Nice ass!” she called back at Kane.
“I like her,” Kane murmured into my hair as he pulled me into his heat.
Despite the strangeness of the situation, I found myself relaxing into his embrace.
“You don’t have to go get coffee,” I told him. “You can just … go.” I was giving him the escape hatch I sensed he might desire. None of my previous partners had liked Kiera. And though I adored her, she was a lot. Especially at six in the morning. Maybe closer to the truth was I didn’t want Kiera to see this and ask questions I’d been ignoring.
“Are you fuckin’ kidding me, Chef?” Kane pulled me back to arm’s length. “I ain’t going anywhere. Mostly because I haven’t gotten my fill of you this morning, and also ’cause I’m looking forward to drinking coffee with you and your friend and grilling her for all the information.”
He kissed me. Firm. Open-mouthed. Tongues. Like my best friend wasn’t right there in the living room.
I kissed him back.
Enthusiastically.
Then he let me go and walked back into my bedroom.
“Girlfriend, watching that almost gave me an orgasm,” Kiera pretended to fan herself before sitting back on the sofa and crossing her legs.
She was grinning, making no qualms about the fact that she’d been watching.
“I’m officially not mad at you anymore,” she announced as she patted my sofa. “Now get your ass over here and give me every goddamn detail.”
An hour later, the coffee was gone, and our croissants were no more than crumbs on plates on my coffee table.
I was sitting tucked into Kane’s chest, not really by choice. When he’d come back with coffee and breakfast—looking far too sinfully attractive in his shirt, jeans, tousled hair and a cheeky grin—I’d attempted to put a sensible distance between us. He was having none of that, grabbing on to me and hauling me across the couch so I was almost sitting on his lap.
Kiera watched this happen with the same gleam to her smile that she’d had the entire time she was here.
I had given her a complete rundown of the past four days. Had it only been four days? Trite as it was, it truly felt like a lifetime. Like Kane had changed something fundamental inside me.
I was plagued with romantic notions I’d been certain I was immune to.
Yet there I was… Instead of getting ready for the day, getting to the restaurant, keeping my orderly and important schedule in place, I was lazily drinking coffee in Kane ‘The Devil’ Rhodes’s arms while shooting the shit with my best friend.
My best friend who had never sat casually in my apartment drinking coffee and eating breakfast with any of my boyfriends. Never smiled and laughed warmly, joking with them as she had been with Kane for the last hour.
It felt easy. Nice. Kane was just as engaging, asking Kiera questions about her life, meeting every one of her sarcastic quips with jokes of his own.
“I’m having a party,” he said. “Well, my agent is making me have the party because of some fucking booze he talked me into endorsing. To be fair, it’s fucking great shit; I’d never promote something I didn’t actually like. Plus, the owner is a friend I owe a favor to, and I love a party.” He hiked up a shoulder. “Obviously, Chef is coming. And I would be honored to have you there to liven up the place.” He winked at Kiera.
I craned my head to look at him. “ Obviously, I’m coming?”
“Yeah. You’re my woman.” He looked down, unaware or unbothered by the bite in my tone as he smiled lazily. “Want you there.”
My mouth went dry at ‘my woman.’ It had me momentarily stunned. He’d said it last night too.
I was only stunned momentarily, though.
“I have a job. I can’t take the night off with no notice.” My spine was straight, tone chilly.
Kane didn’t so much as flinch. “Yeah, which is why I scheduled the party for this Monday.”
I gasped in surprise. The restaurant was closed the third Monday of every month. Completely closed. We weren’t open for service every night, but there was always work to do. But those Mondays were a black day for everyone. It was so I could test out new menus, for the staff to have a proper break and to have the opportunity to deep clean or redecorate whatever Heidi decided to redecorate at the time.
The fact that Kane not only knew the restaurant was closed and had organized his party to be on that particular night was a huge gesture. Maybe a sweet one. If it weren’t coupled with him also making a decision for me.
“I could be busy,” I informed him coldly.
“ Are you busy, Chef?” His eyes glittered, obviously amused with my irritation.
That only served to irritate me more.
“If you are, I’ll simply change the party,” he continued as if it were no big deal.
I bit my lip. That tic had returned whenever I was around Kane because I was never in control when I was with Kane.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. You’re not busy, Avery,” Kiera chimed in.
I shot her a death glare. Even though she seemed immune to them.
“I get it. You don’t like a man making plans for you. Which I wouldn’t recommend doing again,” she told Kane. “On account of Avery not only being a massive control freak but also a woman with agency who is entitled to make her own plans.” She gave him a jaunty smile. “But on this occasion, I’ll allow it.”
“Will you allow it?” I wanted to strangle my friend.
“Cut the shit, Chef,” Kane grasped my chin so I was looking at him. “You’re sexy as shit when you’re pissed, something I’m gonna keep in mind, but we’re gonna have a good time. You’re gonna have a good time, and I’m gonna show you off.” He leaned in to kiss me, grazing my lip with his teeth as he did so.
All thoughts of arguing with Kane flew out of my mind.
“You gonna battle me some more—which I welcome—or you gonna come to the party?” he murmured.
“I’m gonna come to the party,” I whispered, almost in a trance.
“Okay.” Kiera clapped her hands together and stood. I jerked back at the sudden sound to look at my best friend. “I’d like to stay, and I mean that. I could watch this,” she motioned between me and Kane, “like I watch a Real Housewives’ reunion—with delight and rapt attention. But alas, I have things to do.” She pointed to Kane. “You live up to the hype.” Her gaze returned to me. “I’ll be here Monday to get ready for the party and to pre-game. If you keep getting all that good sex you’re obviously getting, you won’t even need makeup.” She blew me a kiss then sauntered out the door.
“So that’s Kiera,” I pressed the heels of my palms into my eyes.
“Fond as I am of her company, she sorely delayed the way I wanted to wake up.”
In a heartbeat, I was flipped onto my back on the sofa, Kane hoisting my legs upward and moving himself downward so he was right between my thighs.
He looked up at me with fire in his eyes. “Planned on tasting you first thing in the morning, so the first thing you screamed was my name. But I’ll take having the taste of you on my tongue for the rest of the day.”
Within seconds, my panties were off, and Kane’s mouth was on me.
I was lost in pleasure, but not too lost to try to imprint the feeling into my mind, knowing it was temporary.
The next night, Kane stayed over at my house again.
Again, he cooked for me.
We’d gone grocery shopping after he’d buried his face in between my legs and made me scream on my sofa. After he’d then bent me over that sofa.
I’d gotten dressed in a daze, let him convince me to delay my errands for the restaurant for a morning of grocery shopping.
It wasn’t hard to convince me.
I’d put on simple clothes. Jeans and a white tee, thrown my hair up into a messy ponytail. I slapped on tinted moisturizer that doubled as SPF because at my age, you knew the importance of SPF. My skin was largely lineless because of this. Well, and good genes and ensuring that I wasn’t out in the sun often, always in a kitchen filled with heat and grease that kept my skin from drying out.
“Ready,” I informed Kane, snatching a pair of black designer sunglasses from my dresser. Kiera gave them to me. No way would I have spent $500 on sunglasses, but I liked them.
Kane glanced at me as I slipped on a pair of sneakers. He was lying in bed shirtless, reading one of the paperbacks I’d had in the apartment for decoration up until that point.
His phone was on the nightstand beside me.
It touched me that he was reading in his downtime instead of scrolling his phone like 99 percent of the population did these days.
I’d only seen him on his phone to answer a text or call, and that was only a couple of times. Otherwise, he wasn’t on it.
“You’re ready ?” He dog-eared the book then put it on the nightstand. His eyes raked over me as he got up to snatch his jeans. “Jesus, I thought I’d have at least another ten minutes. Chicks take ages to look as gorgeous as you do right now.”
The compliment was offhand, easily given, and it tickled the back of my neck. Still, I rolled my eyes. “You’re biased because of the sex we just had.”
Kane pulled his tee over his head then grasped my chin, face uncharacteristically serious. “Chef, I’m not biased. You’re gorgeous. It’s off-putting, just how stunning you are. Yeah, at the party with the makeup, the top that did great things for your tits … you looked hot. But hot is a dime a dozen. You, in your chef’s whites, in your kitchen, face flushed, eyes wild and alive—that’s beauty. You on top of me, riding me with your hair wild—that’s beauty. You now…” He tugged my ponytail. “Beauty,” he whispered, then his lips were on mine.
I lost all sense.
“You’re kind of beautiful too,” I whispered back.
He smiled. “I know I’m meant to say that I prefer ruggedly handsome or masculine, but I like that you think I’m beautiful.”
He kissed my nose.
“Now, let’s go get some groceries so there’s something living in your apartment that isn’t just the bacteria on old Chinese takeout.”
So we did.
We walked a handful of blocks together, in the daylight, Kane’s hand in mine. Easy as can be. Natural. We got lost in the crowds of other people going about their days. I got lost in the notion that Kane and I were just a man and a woman grocery shopping together.
It was that simple.
And that complicated.
My fridge was now bursting with all sorts of fruits, vegetables, cold-pressed juices. Apparently, Kane was a juice guy. But also more champagne, beer, copious amounts of candy bars because clearly, he liked cold-pressed juices and sugar. A man of extremes.
The dinner he’d made was baked salmon and salad.
It was delicious.
Then he took me to bed.
And I’d woken up with him.
“You gonna overthink this?” he brushed hair from my face.
“Overthink what?” I blinked up at him, my voice lazy and satisfied and unfamiliar.
Relaxed.
That was the word.
I’d never sounded or felt so relaxed in my life.
Prior to this, to us, I woke up grinding my teeth, not giving myself a second to lay, to scroll or doze or do whatever it was people did in the mornings. I was up, mind calculating the things I had to do, the places I had to go and the amount of time I had to do those things depending on the menu for the evening.
I didn’t have days off.
Not even today. Theoretically, I should’ve been up thirteen minutes ago. I should’ve been getting my coffee from the cart on the end of my block then heading to the docks to see what was freshest. Then it was to the meatpacking district for the New Zealand lamb I’d been waiting on from a supplier no one else knew about.
Then it was straight to the restaurant for prep.
I didn’t have a free minute, let alone thirteen of them. Especially since I had taken the morning off yesterday to grocery shop.
Yet I didn’t get up. I wasn’t entirely sure I could get up, and not just because of my boneless limbs. Because Kane’s arms were around me. Tight, vicelike. It should’ve made me feel caged, claustrophobic, panicked. It had with every other man who’d tried to hold me in any type of way.
Not with Kane.
“Overthink this. ” Kane’s fingertip brushed what I knew was the crease between my eyebrows as I contemplated my relaxed state. “I already see you doin’ it.”
I chewed on my lip. He wasn’t entirely wrong. Although I was overthinking, it was a lot less than I normally did.
“I’m not gonna play games.” He cradled my cheek. “Have in the past, I’m not gonna lie. I’ve been an asshole, selfish, letting myself get caught up in bullshit.” He spoke plainly without adornment. “I was not a gentleman, and I don’t intend to be with you.” His other hand cupped me between my legs, and I let out a sharp breath of pleasure.
He grinned wickedly.
“Not in the bedroom … or wherever I feel like fuckin’ you.” He swiped his tongue along his teeth. “But the second I saw you, I knew that there was no way I was playing any type of game, wasting any time to make you mine. Initially, though… Gonna be honest, Chef. I wanted to fuck you, and I didn’t think too far ahead of that. But it didn’t take long to understand that I didn’t just want to fuck you. Wanted to make you mine. And I saw it in your eyes too. Whatever the fuck it is between us is intense as fuck. Doesn’t make much sense. It’s out of both of our control. And you’re about control, Chef. Saw it when I walked into that kitchen, making me hard as a rock. I like seeing you in control, showing your power. But neither of us have power over this, and I’m expecting at some point that’s gonna freak you out. Make you want to run.”
His hand flexed at my hip as if he were expecting me to run right there and then.
“Not gonna let you do that, Chef,” he added quietly. “Unless it’s what you truly want in here.” He tapped my chest. “Not here.” He tapped my temple. “I’ll let you fight it only so I can fight back with you. But I won’t let you leave out of fear. Sayin’ that plainly because I’m not doing bullshit with you. So you wanna run, or you want to sink into this?” His finger slipped into me.
My eyes rolled to the back of my head. But he didn’t move his finger, didn’t give me friction for release.
No, he just left it there inside of me, waiting.
He let all of those words hang, let them settle, resting on my chest like a weight.
And I couldn’t breathe for a few seconds. Kane was right. A primal part of me wanted to fight against this. Wanted to run as far and as fast as I could. Because I knew that this was real, that this was something. We were something. Something that might burn fast and hot, might peter out and leave us both unscathed and satisfied. Or it could break me irreparably.
My body tensed at the mere thought of that. I had worked far too hard to craft a life for myself that was secure. I’d ensured that I could not be ruined, could not be hurt by anyone, especially a man.
Every relationship I’d had prior to this could only be loosely defined as a relationship. The stakes had been low. There were no feelings involved. No danger.
Kane was telling me that I couldn’t control this, that he wouldn’t let me run. He’d chase me. And he wasn’t saying it in some toxic male kind of way. He was stating it as fact. As sure as the sky was blue, Kane was going to chase me if I ran from this out of fear.
As sure as the sun rose in the east and set in the west, Kane knew that I was his.
Yes, fear—a foreign and poisonous invader in my veins—urged me to run. To shut down and to convince this man that all of his feelings were one-sided and that I would not be submitting to him.
I opened my mouth to say that. To spout lies that would keep me safer than the truth ever could.
“I want this,” I said instead, moving my body against his finger. My eyes found azure fire. “I want us.”
His arm tightened even further. Tight enough to bruise. His gaze turned intense, claiming.
“Good,” he growled. “Now let me make sure you feel me in you all day before you run around the city.”