Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Tess
When we step into the lobby of the resort, it’s absolutely bustling. Five o’clock is prime check-in time, and the crowd of new arrivals threads through that of those headed out for the evening, whether that be for dinner or some other off-property activity. Flip-flops thwack against the opalescent tile. Voices echo from the high ceilings. I’m shocked that Jenna even spots me through the masses, but before I know it, her thin arms encircle me, competing with Kit’s hand at my back to give me warmth.
She pulls back, cupping my face in her hands. “Tess, are you okay? Alex said there was an accident.”
One sidelong glance of Kit’s sheepish shrug tells me he made good on his promise to order dinner ahead. Must’ve been while I dozed off. I sigh, then turn back to my friend. “We’re okay. It wasn’t us. We came up on a hit-and-run on the interstate. A mom and her young son had totaled their car.” I don’t have it in me to try to be convincingly unaffected, and it shows. I sound every bit as bedraggled as I feel.
Jenna’s brown eyes are wide, her lips bracketed by deep frown lines. “Is everyone okay?”
“They’re going to be fine,” Kit inserts. He offers the hand that’s not holding up the base of my spine to Jenna. “I’m Christopher, but most people call me Kit. You’re either Mara’s mom or her sister, right?”
Her olive cheeks turn a deep shade of rose. “She mentioned she’d chatted with you,” she replies warmly, taking his outstretched hand. “Jenna. Nice to finally meet you. And yes, Mara’s my daughter. Her father and I own the resort.” She smiles, pride bubbling from her words. Her gaze dances between us as she adds, “I’m so glad the woman and her boy were okay.”
“We are, too.” I can feel myself wilting with every second that passes. As happy as I am to see Jenna—and even, deep down, to introduce her to Kit—I’m not sure how much longer I can maintain this conversation. Not since the events of this afternoon have effectively chewed me up and spit me back out again.
She must sense it, because a wrinkle forms between her brows as she measures me from head to toe. “I won’t keep you two. Just had to be sure you were all right. Alex said your dinner would be waiting for you in your room, Tess. Let me know if I can send anything else. Some bubble bath, perhaps?”
Kit chuckles softly, and I shake my head. “Not this time, Jenna. But thanks for offering.”
She pinches my side playfully. “Any time.”
The wheels of my suitcase click over the tile as Kit pushes it toward the elevator bay. His bag is slung over his shoulder, leaving his hand free to continue guiding me down the hall. It should feel overbearing, but it doesn’t. In fact, I’m already dreading the moment we part ways and that steady pulse of warmth leaves me. That bit of contact that anchors me on this side of my sadness.
Before the elevator door has even closed, Kit is smirking at me. “Bubble bath?”
I press my lips together. “There was an incident when I was nine. I may or may not be the reason the whole hotel got upgraded carpet that year.”
His laughter drowns out the hum of our upward climb. It’s a welcome buoy after hours spent below the surface, struggling for gasps of air. I somehow manage to giggle in return, though it sounds weak even to my ears. We spill out onto the third floor, and despite the fact that both of us were blessed with long legs, we make our way slowly to the very tip of the building where our rooms await our return.
I was so sure when I walked out of here with him just a day ago that I was only tagging along to support him. So how is it that I’m crawling back wounded, and he’s the one who picked up my pieces in the end?
We pause awkwardly outside my door. The Marilyn Suite placard has been freshly polished, welcoming me with its gleam. I thumb through my purse, find my key card at the very bottom, and try to ignore the ache in my throat when the mechanical whir of the lock announces I’m free to enter.
The moment I’ve been dreading comes. Kit’s hand slips from my back to open the door. I walk through the gap he’s created like I’m leaving home rather than returning to it. The wheels of my suitcase make hardly any noise as he pushes the bag across the plush carpet. He opens the door that leads to the separate bedroom, where he deposits my suitcase right next to my bed. When he returns to my side, his gaze follows mine to the room-service table sitting in front of the armchair in the corner of the living room. After a long pause, Kit clears his throat.
“Well, food’s here. So I’ll give you some privacy.” His tongue wets his bottom lip, and he draws in a ragged breath. “If you need anything?—”
“Stay with me.”
His mouth clamps shut with an audible click. We both wince at the sound. The truth is, I can’t eat right now anyway. The bottom has dropped out of my stomach. I can’t think about food, or a shower, or anything else besides what I should do and what I want to do, and how those two things never seem to overlap. Especially not now, when the thing I want most is to not be alone. One glance at Kit’s rain-mussed hair, and suddenly the sensation of his muscular arms encircling me while I fell apart after the accident reappears like a phantom limb.
He may be a bad idea, but I’m tired of pretending like I’m known for making excellent choices.
His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “You got soaked out there. You probably need a shower. I know I do. I can come by after…”
“Shower with me.” I don’t know whose voice that is. So sure of itself. So quietly desperate. A shudder runs through Kit, then finds its way to me. Soon I’m outright shivering. The cranked-up AC in the room hits my clammy skin, pimpling it with goose bumps. I mindlessly rub at my forearms, unable to look away from Kit’s wild, tortoiseshell gaze.
He shakes his head slowly, disbelief pulling his jaw taut. “You don’t mean that.”
“I do, though.” I chance a step forward, knowing very well that if my legs give out, he’ll catch me. “I don’t know what it means, or how much it will change things between us. But I do know that you’re the only person in the world who makes me feel even a little less alone. So please don’t make me beg, Kit.”
Every hollow in his angular face is painted in shadow. His back is to the sliding glass door that leads to the balcony. Orange afternoon light gilds him at the edges, making him look more like a dream than a man. And hasn’t he always been, at least a little bit? Exactly what I needed, even when I didn’t have the words to give the request shape. Someone only my subconscious could’ve contrived, all while I wasn’t paying attention.
He swipes a hand through the mess of his hair, his forearm flexing as he tightens a fistful in his grasp. “Okay.” His voice cracks, splitting the word in two. “If you’re sure.”
I’m tired of speaking. Words feel so heavy right now, so cumbersome. Instead I tug my shirt over my head and let it fall to the floor. Let that be my answer. My shorts follow after, and when I’m standing in front of Kit with nothing but a pair of underwear and my bralette to cover me, he jolts into action, yanking his own T-shirt off in one smooth motion.
“I’ll get the water warmed up,” he says. I’m standing between him and the bathroom, though, so his escape brings him right past me. Our skin brushes, and I’ve never been more aware of every nerve ending in my body. Of how they burst and fizz when they make contact with him. Somewhere behind me, the glass shower door slides open. Seconds later a faucet shrieks to life.
I get to work unclasping my bralette. Shucking my underwear. Kit’s back is to me when I step through the bathroom doorway. Steam billows from the shower, coating my skin in warmth, but even so, I shiver when he turns.
“Tess.” My name comes out as a low rumble. A warning, almost. Even with shorts on, I can see how much the sight of me affects him. His thick length strains against his zipper, and I have to force myself not to reach forward and free it.
Desire pools low in my belly. An ache builds between my thighs, pulsing with need. I have to drag my eyes back to his, heavy-lidded with lust. “Aren’t you going to undress?”
He shakes his head. “You know, it’s really difficult to be your friend when you look like that.”
My nipples pebble at his praise, aching with the need to be touched. And it is praise, of that I have no doubt. I can’t quite put a name to the look in his dark gaze, but gun to my head, I’d call it worship.
“I don’t want to be your friend, Kit.” As soon as the words are out, my chest inflates with relief. I hadn’t even realized how much the lie was weighing me down. Hadn’t admitted to myself it was a lie in the first place. But of course it was. How could someone feel the way I do when he is near and mistake it for anything so mundane as a friendship?
I draw in a steam-soaked breath. “I have tried so hard to convince myself I don’t want you, and that only makes you harder to resist. I’m tired of fighting it.” I shrug, letting my hands slap my thighs in exasperation. “I give up.”
A single brow lifts. “What are you saying?”
“I have no clue,” I say, laughing harshly. “I don’t know what this feeling is, or where this could even possibly go. All I know is that it’s what I’ve wanted since the very first time I saw you.” My chest is on fire, scalding me from the inside out. I swallow hard. “Isn’t that enough?”
He smiles like it’s the most painful thing in the world. “Yeah, Tess. It’s enough.” Then he holds out his hand.
I take it. Let him guide me into the onslaught of steaming water. He quickly strips, then joins me beneath the downpour. His body is perfection. Studying him is like tracing my fingers over a topographical map. The line carved from his sternum to his navel is a river I want to float down. The ridge of his hip bone, a precipice I want to lounge upon. A valley of muscle draws my gaze downward, and I swallow thickly at the sight of his length, so hard for me already.
“Uncircumcised,” I note, sounding so unlike myself. “Nice.”
Laughter rattles the cage of his ribs. His shoulders dance, and he throws his head back into the flow of water, mouth wide open and gasping. “I can’t believe that was your opener.”
I flush crimson, embarrassment licking all the way from between my breasts up to my temples. “Sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”
His lips seal in a wry grin, and he reaches for me, capturing my hand and tugging me close. Our bodies meet, his cock pressing into the softest part of my abdomen. Dark chest hair scrapes my breasts, making my nipples ache. He presses a kiss to my forehead, husky laughter brushing my skin. “It’s fine. It was cute.”
“I can’t believe we’re touching. Naked.”
“I know. You think you’ve wanted this since we first met. You have no idea how often I’ve imagined this exact scenario. You know, minus the circumcision comment.”
“It just surprised me, that’s all!” I try to pull back to face him, but he squeezes me tighter, shaking with laughter once more. Over the spray of water, I can hear the rasp of it in his lungs. The sound melts my core until it’s molten and full of yearning. After a second he relaxes his grasp, and I lean back to meet his heavy-lidded gaze with one of my own. “When you thought about it before, did you touch yourself?”
His expression hardens. I can tell he’s chewing at the inside of his lip, probably gauging how much is too much to tell me. “Tess, if I told you how often you were the reason I had to fuck my hand these past ten months, you’d probably want a restraining order.”
A spark runs down my spine, stoking the flame in my core. “Wouldn’t it be better if I did it for you?”
A groan rips from his throat. His fingertips trail down my back and dig into the soft flesh of my ass so hard it’ll probably bruise, and for some reason that thought thrills me.
“We can’t do this right now. You’ve been through a lot today. I came in here to help you, not to seduce you.”
I quirk a brow. “And what if I seduce you instead?”
“Consider me thoroughly seduced.” He shakes his head at me. His pupils have dilated, blotting out every shade of green in his eyes. All that’s left is the darkness. He looks positively sinful with water pouring from his stubbled jaw. “Need I remind you, you haven’t yet asked me to kiss you again.”
“Need I remind you ,” I retort, since we’re apparently going for debate-speech-level formality here. I lock my hands against his tailbone and pull him closer, though there’s no space left between us. “You already kissed me today. At the accident. It was a peck, but it counts.”
His lips part, an exasperated grin tipping the corners upward. “After all that happened, that’s what you remember?”
I shrug. “I’m just saying, bet’s off.”
“It was never a bet.” He says it quietly. More to himself, it would seem, than to me. Then he leans down, and amid the unrelenting stream of warm water, our lips meet. I vault onto my tiptoes, dragging my breasts over his chest as I go. It draws a moan from deep in my lungs, which spills into our kiss. He swallows it like he’s a drowning man searching for air. Our lips part, tongues slipping alongside each other. Kit’s hands knead my ass, fingertips getting so close to where I want them yet never close enough. He deepens the kiss, and just when I think I will shatter from the pressure of my desire, he drives me backward into the cool shower wall, holding me together with the weight of his body.
I can no longer tell where he ends and I begin. Only that, when a growl rips from my stomach, it rattles us both.
We part on shaky breaths. Not because I want to. In fact, I cling to him desperately. But Kit loosens my grip easily, plucking my hands from his body and placing them at my sides. His cock is hard and pulsing between us, clearly as upset as I am at the turn of events.
“We’ve got to get you fed.” Kit reaches for the tiny hotel shampoo bottle and uncaps it, squirting a dollop into his palm. “Turn around, and I’ll take care of you so we can get out.”
“Ugh.” I do as he says, reluctantly giving him my back just as my grumble bounces off the walls. “I wish that meant the same thing to you as it does to me.”
Kit buries his hands in my hair, lathering until the scent of a beach holiday coats the thick air. Coconut and hibiscus and some unique musk that I always associate with the Carmen. He kneads my scalp, drawing a moan from my lips. At that, he uses my hair to pull me into him, so his cock is nestled in the seam of my ass. His lips meet my throat, and he grazes his teeth over my pulse point before whispering, “Believe me, I will take care of you in every way possible. You think it doesn’t kill me to see you dripping wet and naked, your perfect nipples so tight with want, your pussy so ready for me that I can feel its heat against me now?”
I gulp, and he licks the hollow behind my earlobe. “It does, Tess. But I can’t have you the way I want you if you’re exhausted and hungry. So let me do this for you. There will be time for everything else later.”
My bones turn to liquid. I dissolve into him, pliable to his every touch. He bathes me thoroughly. Washes and rinses my hair. Drags a washcloth over every sensitive nerve ending, then quickly repeats it all on himself. He towels me down, and even though we both know I could do it, I let him. Because I can tell he needs this, almost as much as I need him.
We eat pasta, eventually trading the sunset for the flickering blue light of shitty cable. I don’t bother changing out of my towel, and neither does he. Eventually, when our stomachs are full and my lids weigh heavy, he guides me to the bed and pulls back the covers, gesturing for me to climb in. We curl into one another, every inch of us bare, and drift off to sleep to the distant sound of waves crashing.
It’s the best sleep I’ve had in years.