13. Touch of Fire
13
TOUCH OF FIRE
EVERETT
The kiss is electric. Hungry. Her lips part with a gasp, and I take full advantage, sliding my tongue into her mouth. She melts into me, her fingers curling into the fabric of my shirt as if she's afraid I'll disappear.
I can't get enough of her. Every touch is a shot of fire through my veins.
We're both breathless when we finally pull apart. Her eyes are bright with need, and I can't resist brushing a strand of hair away from her cheek.
I drag my tongue over her lower lip, tasting the remnants of our kiss. She looks up at me, and her voice is a breathy whisper.
"Everett, I?—"
"Don't," I say, my voice low. "Don't say anything. Just... kiss me again."
She does, and it's even more intense than before. My hands roam over her body, desperate to touch every inch of her.
She's everything I've dreamed of and more, and I can't believe she's here in my arms. Then I slide my hand beneath her shirt, feeling her bare skin.
"God, Kenzie...," I murmur against her lips.
I need her, and I'm not gentle. But she doesn't seem to mind. She's just as desperate for me as I am for her.
I back her against the door, effectively shutting us away from the world. The kiss deepens, growing hungrier and more desperate by the second.
My hands roam her body, memorizing every curve, every dip and swell. She tastes like coffee, homemade cookies, and temptation, and I can't get enough.
With each swipe of her tongue, each soft moan, my resolve weakens further. I lift her, her legs wrapping around my waist. Her weight in my arms is a dizzying rush.
I know this is a bad idea. But the heat of her body pressed against mine, the sweet scent of her hair, is intoxicating.
My cock is rock hard, and I slide it against her clothed entrance, teasing her. She lets out a soft whimper, and I have to force myself not to rip off her pants and take her right there against the door.
But I don't.
I trail kisses along her jaw, down the column of her throat, savoring the feel of her pulse fluttering wildly beneath my lips. Her skin is soft, her heartbeat rapid, matching the frantic rhythm of my own.
I grind against her, eliciting another soft moan. I can feel the heat of her core through the fabric of our clothes, and it's maddening. I want to bury myself inside her, claim her, make her mine.
I pull back just enough to meet her gaze, suddenly aware of what we're doing.
"Everett," she breathes, her voice husky and thick with desire. "What are we doing?"
I want to tell her we're making a mistake. That I'm her boss and this is wrong on so many levels.
But the words die in my throat as I look into her eyes. They're dark with desire, pupils blown wide, and I know she wants this as much as I do.
I rest my forehead against hers, closing my eyes as I struggle for control.
"I don't know," I admit, my voice rough. "But I can't stop thinking about you, Kenzie. I've tried, God knows I've tried, but every time I get close, my good intentions go up in flames."
She silences me with another kiss, softer this time but no less intense. I respond instinctively, kissing her back. She tastes like sin and redemption all at once.
When she pulls back, we're both breathing heavily. She reaches up, cupping my face in her hands .
Her lips are swollen from our kisses, and a flush spreads across her cheeks. I want to memorize every inch of her and brand her as mine, even though I know I have no right.
"I can't stop thinking about you either," she whispers. "But the girls..."
Guilt washes over me at the mention of them.
"I know," I say, my forehead still pressed to hers. "It's complicated. You work for me, and the girls adore you. If this goes wrong..."
"It could ruin everything," she finishes, her voice tinged with regret.
I nod, my heart pounding. The rational part of my brain is screaming at me to step back, to distance ourselves.
But my body refuses to cooperate. I'm hyper-aware of every point where we touch—her soft curves pressed against my hard planes, her breath fanning across my face.
Our bodies seem to fit together perfectly, and the thought is exhilarating and terrifying.
I pull her closer, desperate for more. I can't get enough of her taste, her scent, and the soft moans she makes as I explore her mouth with my tongue.
"We should stop," I say, my voice strained as I fight my desires. My hands slide down to her waist, pulling her impossibly closer, even as my mind screams at me to let her go.
"We should," she agrees, her fingers threading through my hair, holding me in place.
We stand there, our bodies flush against each other, both knowing we should walk away. But neither of us moves.
"Kenzie," I groan, my resolve crumbling like a house of cards. "Tell me to stop. Tell me this is a bad idea."
She searches my eyes, her gaze searching for the truth. Whatever she sees there must convince her because she shakes her head, a stubborn tilt to her chin.
"I can't," she says softly. "Because I don't want you to stop."
That's all the permission I need. Every ounce of restraint I have left shatters, and I crush my lips to hers, pouring all my pent-up desire and frustration into the kiss.
She responds in kind, her body arching into mine, her legs squeezing my waist.
I thrust, the warmth of her pussy barely contained by the layers of clothing between us. She moans into my mouth, and the sound sends a surge of heat through my veins. I'm desperate to feel her bare skin against mine, but I'm not sure we should go that far .
But I establish a tempo, reasoning that it's not so bad.
We're fully clothed. But my tongue's down her throat, and she grinding on my cock, and I'm about to bust.
She moans, the sound low and primal, igniting something feral in me. I need to hear it again.
My hands slip beneath her shirt, exploring her smooth skin. The friction is maddening.
"You’re driving me crazy, Kenzie," I murmur against her lips.
"Ditto…"
Our bodies rock together, a desperate rhythm threatening to consume us both. I grip her hips, guiding her movements, the pressure building in my balls.
It's like we're fucking teenagers, but I can't stop.
I don't want to stop.
"Everett," she whimpers, her voice thick with need.
The sound of my name on her lips, laced with desire, is almost enough to send me over the edge.
"Kenzie…baby… fuck ," I groan, thrusting against her, the sweet torture driving me wild.
Her nails dig into my shoulders, anchoring her as our bodies move together in a dance, chasing release.
My hands explore her body, sliding up her shirt, my thumbs brushing the sensitive peaks of her breasts. She moans, and it’s liquid lust shot straight to my dick, hardening me further against her.
I pick up the pace, grinding against her, my cock aching to be inside her. Her soft pants and breathy moans drive me wild, urging me on.
"Shit…Kenzie…," I groan, thrusting harder, the pressure building.
She cries out, her body shuddering against me.
"Oh, fuck," she whimpers, her muscles tensing. "I'm so close."
"That's it, baby," I murmur, grinding harder, feeling her tighten around me.
My cock throbs, and I know I'm close. I capture her lips in a searing kiss, swallowing her cries. I can't get enough of her.
"Everett!" she cries out, her body shuddering, her thighs clenching around my waist.
I growl, burying my face in her neck, nipping at her soft skin as she rides out her orgasm. I thrust harder, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through my body.
I'm so close. My cock aches as I teeter on the edge.
Her nails rake down my back, sending a surge of heat through me.
"Damn…Everett. That's what I needed," she moans, her voice hoarse with desire.
And that's all it takes. The dam breaks, and I come undone. I growl, my hips jerking as I find my release, the pleasure coursing through me.
"Fuck!" I pant, my chest heaving.
I hold her close, breathing in her scent, feeling her heartbeat thunder against my chest.
It's the most incredible feeling.
I kiss her temple, and she smiles, the expression lazy and content.
"Kenzie, if we don't stop now..."
A knock at the door freezes us both.
"Daddy?" Harper's voice calls out. "Are you in there?"
Reality crashes back in like a bucket of ice water. Kenzie's eyes widen, and she scrambles to disentangle herself from me. I step back, running a hand through my hair in a futile attempt to smooth it.
"Just a minute, peanut," I call out, wincing at how wrecked my voice sounds.
Kenzie straightens her clothes, her cheeks flaming. "I should go," she whispers.
I nod, not trusting myself to speak. She slips out the door, murmuring something to Harper as she passes. I take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart.
As she leaves, I sink back into my chair, my head in my hands .
"Fuck…" I whisper, folding forward.
What was I thinking?
I wasn't thinking. That's the problem. For one moment, I let my guard down. Let myself feel something other than guilt and duty and fear. And look where it got me.
I sit, trying to sort through the competing thoughts in my head. The mission. The girls. Ian skulking around town. And now this... whatever this is with Kenzie.
It's too much. I can't handle it all. I need to focus, to compartmentalize. To be the soldier, the father, the protector. I can't afford to be... whatever it is, Kenzie makes me want to be.
I stand, suddenly needing to be anywhere but here. The walls of my office feel like they're closing in on me, suffocating me.
"Daddy?"
I spin, and Harper's watching me. I forgot she was still here.
My little girl is growing up too fast. Her eyes are wide, brimming with questions I'm not ready to answer. I forgot how perceptive she is, how little escapes her notice.
"Are you okay?"
"Yes, love." I notice a picture in her hand. "What's that?"
Harper's smile widens, and she shows me her picture. She doesn't have to explain what I'm looking at.
"That's you, Hazel, me, and?—"
"Kenzie…"
She nods. "You can have it."
I hold the hand-drawn family portrait in my hands. "Thank you, peanut."
She beams and runs off, leaving me alone.
I grab my jacket and keys, and as I head for the front door, I hear Kenzie's voice coming from the girls' room. She's reading them a bedtime story, her voice soft and soothing. I pause, listening to the rise and fall of her words and the giggles of the twins.
For a moment, I let myself imagine a different life. One where I could walk into that room, wrap my arms around Kenzie from behind, and kiss the top of her head. Where we could tuck the girls in together, then retreat to our room, talking about our day and planning for our future.
But that's not my life. It can't be. I have responsibilities and duties that go beyond what I want. The first Raven V mission looms ahead of me, a stark reminder of the world I belong to.
With a heavy heart, I push those thoughts aside and slip out the front door. The cool night air hits me like a slap to the face, clearing my head a little .
I climb into my truck and start the engine. I'm not sure where I'm going, but I know I need to go somewhere. As I pull out of the driveway, I catch a glimpse of Kenzie through the twins' bedroom window. She's smiling, her face animated as she acts out part of the story.
The image stays with me as I drive into town, a bittersweet reminder of what I can't have. What I shouldn't want.
But what if I do?