7. Chapter 7 These Thoughts Arent For You.
Chapter 7: These Thoughts Aren't For You.
Madison
I couldn't sleep.
After we returned last night, I made my way to my room and locked it.
Why did I kiss him?
The question stays in my head, silently judging me for being so quick to let panic be my decision-maker.
Did I have to kiss him?
I could have threatened him with the police, and Killian would have followed up.
Logically thinking about it, how does kissing him actually solve the problem?
Will it be enough to chase Steven away?
What if he finds me at the club again?
"Never mind that, as I'm never going back there anyway," I say to myself.
Killian has promised that he'd protect me if I ever wanted to go anywhere.
I don't need his protection. The last thing I want is to have him become overprotective like my brother. I'm okay with the illusion of freedom he offers, along with his curfew.
Killian.
I'm trying my best not to think about it, but the thought of having his arms around me, pulling me close to himself, and my blissful ignorance of his member pressing against me keeps coming back. In fact, that last part makes me feel more powerful for some reason.
The emotionally passive Killian got a human reaction out of me. His stubble grazed against my shoulder as he rested his chin there, causing me to shiver a little.
Then his lips…
Oh God, his lips.
I've had a lot of kisses from past boyfriends or flings, but he tasted so differently. I felt drunk from his lips, and he hadn't even had any alcohol that night.
When he kissed me again, I was gone.
If not for the show we put up for Steven, I couldn't really let him go.
Then he held my face in his hand and leaned in far too close without me being able to stop him. God bless Gwen for interrupting.
Speaking of Gwen, why did I stop her from wanting to hook up with Killian?
I don't feel anything about him, so why should I care that she wanted him?
I need to sleep.
But as I lie down to sleep, it never arrives. My mind is occupied with the sounds of my heart beating, desiring the kisses of a man I can't stand.
***
It's Monday.
I'm trying my best to work on the novel that I'm ghostwriting, but it's not flowing.
Killian is still holding my thoughts to ransom, and I'm powerless to do anything about it.
"Madison, I'm leaving… are you awake?"
I hear him call to my attention before leaving for work. He knocks on my bedroom door, but I keep silent.
I am not upset with him, but just hearing his voice is reminiscent of last night.
"Come on, girl, get it together," I murmur, pinching my cheeks and trying to hype myself to get back into the funk.
My phone pings… a text from Gwen:
'Last night totally rocked. Hope you got home safe with your… not-so-boyfriend; mine was splendid. Good sex knows how to keep a girl's skin smooth. Text me if you want to talk about our night plans.'
She's enjoying her life while I'm here agonizing over a measly kiss.
Can it get any worse?
My phone starts to ring… it's Nathan.
Usually, I wouldn't be bothered, but judging the fact that he and Killian are close, there's a chance he's already called Killian and heard everything.
Play it cool.
Act like you usually do.
"Hello, Nathan?" I answer the phone.
"Good morning, how are you?" he asks.
"I'm doing good. A little tired and all. Trying to get inspiration from my current job, but everything else is going okay," I answer and ask, "What about you? How's everything in Singapore?"
He's silent. Maybe the line's gone dead?
"Hello?" I call. "Nathan?"
"I'm sorry, who is this?" he asks.
"Huh? What's with you? You're clearly speaking with me," I frown.
"Ah, there she is. You were strangely nice earlier," he says with a relieved tone. "You even told me about the challenges you were having. For a second, I thought you were possessed or something."
"What's that supposed to mean? That I'm not usually nice to you?" I'm slightly pissed that he thinks that way.
"Before you grill me, think about it. When was the last time you were this kind to me?" he asks.
I pause to think about it.
I suck my teeth in frustration.
"There you have it," he says, and I can visualize the smirk in his voice. "So, what did you do this time?"
"I didn't do anything," I reply quickly. "What do you want?"
"Maybe I shouldn't have said anything and just enjoy my little sister depending on me," he sighs. "I sent a mail package to Killian's house. But I know he leaves very early. So, I want you to help me give it to him."
Meet Killian?
"Can't he just have it when he comes back?" Frankly, because I'm not in the mood to see him yet.
"It's medical equipment," he says. "That means urgent. Unless… something happened?"
"Nothing happened. I'll have it delivered to him," I say as I change my mind. Though I'm not in the mood to see Killian, I'm nowhere near the mood to explain anything to Nathan.
"You're acting really strange today. Are you on your…"
"Thanks, Nathan. I'll hear from you later," I say before hanging up.
I take a deep breath and go to the mailbox. Let's just get this over with.
***
I'm here.
I'm not too good with hospitals after my parents died.
I stare at the brown packaged box in my hands and sigh.
As I make my way into the hospital, the place seems less busy. Judging by the relaxed looks on the medical practitioners present, I can tell it's a rare moment.
"Excuse me," I say to one of the nurses at the front desk. "I'm here to see Dr. Killian Ray. I have a package for him."
"Oh, he just left like a minute ago," she says. "Are you Madison Taylor?"
"Yeah."
"Just head down. If you're fast enough, you can catch up to him," she says as she points in the direction Killian would have followed..
I thank her and hurriedly make my way down.
I see him about to get into the elevator.
"Killian! Wait!" I call to his attention.
He turns around. He's already in the elevator, and the doors are closing.
He holds the door open, quickly stretches his hand, grabs me by the arm, and pulls me into the elevator.
I drop the box due to the sudden movements, but he catches it easily with his other hand that has left the elevator doors while the other hand secures my waist.
That is an almost superhuman feat.
"Are you okay?" he asks.
His face isn't close to mine, but it feels like he is. I'm out of breath… images of last night flash in a violent neon purple manner, and I pull away from him immediately.
"I'm sorry, was that too rough?" he apologizes as he adjusts the package in his arms.
I look around me; the elevator seems too small, and it feels like it's closing in as it begins its ascent.
I start hyperventilating.
"Madison? Madison?" Killian calls as he rushes over to me.
I hug him tightly for support. His body is safe. And I can calm down for a bit.
"Claustrophobia?" he asks.
I nod repeatedly as my hands tighten around him in a vice-like grip.
He strokes my hair gently, "Don't worry, I'm here. You'll be fine."
It's humiliating.
Why does the phobia choose now of all times to kick in?
And in front of Killian of all people.
"We're almost there," he says softly.
His voice is soothing, and now I've lost all willingness to let go of him.
I hate how safe he makes me feel.
I hate how I want him to hold me tighter.
What is wrong with me?
The sound of the elevator coming to a stop and the slow hum of the doors opening should be a relief, but my legs are frozen in place, and my hands refuse to let him go.
"I'm going to need you to loosen your grip a little, or we both can't get off," he says.
"Just… just do something!" I yell at him.
He sighs and slowly drags us out of the elevator.
He holds my waist and leads me to his office.
I find my footing as we get to his door, but I don't say anything.
"For someone as sharp-tongued and bratty as you are, a phobia like that is almost unbelievable," he says with a light-hearted tone, obviously trying to make me feel better.
"Is that so?" I raise a brow.
"Yeah, now I'm worried because my office is just a storage closet," he says before opening his office.
It's a lie.
The office is huge.
He sets me down on the couch and sits next to me, placing the package on the small table in front.
"Are you feeling better?" he asks.
"I can't believe I had to rely on you again," I groan.
"You say it like it's a bad thing," he sighs. "Well, at least this time, we didn't have to kiss."
"Why? Did the kiss bother you that much?" I frown.
"No… I thought," he looks at me in confusion. "I thought you were the one who'd be uncomfortable with it. I did it twice, after all."
"That was nothing; it was just to get the point across," I say and look away.
"Is that so?" he asks rhetorically, then whispers, "I didn't mind trying to get the point across a third time."
I turn my attention to him, and he's inspecting the package. The calmness on his face makes me feel like I'm the only one bothered about his statement.
Then I catch him glancing sideways at me repeatedly and back to the package.
He's bothered about it.
"Why did you do it the second time?" I ask.
"Just like you said, I was trying to get the point across," he says as he shifts his gaze to me.
I watch his lips.
"And what did you mean…" I steady my breathing. "What did you mean by the third attempt?"
"When I had my hand on your face… before we were interrupted," he explains.
I remember.
I remember how my heart screamed yes against my brain's judgment.
And right now, my heart is screaming again.
"Did something like that happen?" I ask as I adjust my posture, facing him.
He notices the subtle change in my attitude. His hand reaches for my face, pushing my hair behind my ear.
"I think it did," he replies, his voice commanding yet gentle.
"I see…"
What is this?
Where is this weird, relaxing vibe coming from?
His fingers move further behind my ear, slowly holding onto my nape.
He doesn't move. His eyes seek permission before doing anything, and I'm grateful for that moment of humility.
"You're not saying anything," he says.
It's a phrase with a double meaning. I know he's indirectly asking for permission to do anything.
"I…"
It's no good. I can't think of anything. His fingers are slowly caressing my nape, dulling my senses.
How is it possible to feel this good just from having someone touch your nape?
I like this… I like it a lot.
But why does it have to be Killian?
Why are his eyes so smoky, like he's enthralled by me?
His fingers touch the base of my neck lightly, and I whimper a little.
I don't even know when he has started moving his face closer to mine.
I close my eyes. My lips open slightly. I'm making another mistake. Gwen isn't here to stop us.
Stop him.
Stop him!
Stop him!!
My brain keeps saying… but my heart?
Just a little bit.
Don't you want to be sure that he's really the reason I'm pounding this way?
Maybe the kiss last night was a fluke.
Kiss him, and you'll see it was all just in your head.
I'm losing an argument with my own mind.
His lips crash into mine, and I melt.
It's bliss, and I can taste the faint hint of chocolate.
He stops the kiss and looks at me.
I grab his collar, saying, "Again."
He doesn't even hesitate and kisses me again.
I lean backward, but there's nothing to support my back. He stops the kiss momentarily and lets me lie properly on the couch before getting on top of me.
"Your mouth, open it," his baritone sounds sexier, especially as he commands me.
I open my mouth weakly, a bit scared about being taken aggressively by him.
As my mouth is weakly open, he kisses me again, but this time he introduces his tongue. The wet towel of his mouth enters mine, exciting my body and not just my heart.
His tongue starts prodding and tasting my mouth, licking my teeth and returning to my tongue.
We twirl our tongues around each other, and as he retreats to his mouth, my tongue chases after him, and he ends up trapping my tongue in his mouth. Gently sucking on it causes me to whimper.
I leave his collar and hold his head, a feeble attempt to stop him from going too hard on me.
His hands start to touch my body, holding my waist and going under my T-shirt to touch my bare skin.
His fingers against my skin are causing flames. I want more of him.
But… his phone starts to ring, finally breaking whatever spell we are both under.
He sits up and takes the phone call. I'm upset that he stopped, though.
"Oh, hey Nathan, yeah, I just got the package," he says.
All of a sudden, I'm not mad at him for stopping anymore.
"What? Madison?" He turns to look at me.
I shake my head negatively. If I answer that call right now, I'll make things worse.
"No, she left immediately after dropping it at the receptionist," he explains. "I guess she had something to work on."
I let out a sigh of relief.
"Okay, thank you. Let's talk later," he says before ending the call.
He looks at me, and just like last night, everything is awkward again.
"We shouldn't have done that," I say as I get to my feet.
"Madison…"
"I shouldn't have done that," he says as he watches me prepare to leave. "Do you need me to escort you to the elevator?"
"I'll use the stairs, but thank you," I turn him down politely as I leave his sight.
He gets up and wants to follow after me, but…
"Please let me go home alone," I demand, and he stops.
As I walk out of his office, I can't help but wonder what is wrong with me.