Chapter 11
ELEVEN
JESSICA
Kane won’t leave me alone.
The phone pings in my pocket for the third time. Turning off the tap, I head out of the kitchen with my sandwich and glass of water. It’s him again. There’s no need to check. The man has been blowing up my phone since I left the hospice.
Slouched on the couch, Chris barely spares me a glance when I walk past the living room. We haven’t spoken a word to each other after our interaction earlier. I don’t have the energy to get into any more arguments.
Malice’s eyes flick up as I pass the doorway. He’s rolling a joint on the coffee table while Jackson is on the phone, laughing at the person on the other line.
It’s almost on the tip of my tongue to ask them if they have homes, but that would be a pointless argument. They always hang out together at our place.
“You alright, sunshine?” Jackson calls out after me, earning him a glare from my brother. I would flip him off, but my hands are full. Jackson snickers as he reaches across the couch and shoves Chris. “Relax, bro. You’re too fucking easy to wind up.”
“She’s off limits,” Chris mutters, propping his beat-up shoe on the edge of the coffee table. The soles of his Chucks have seen better days, like everything in our house.
God, he’s such a dick sometimes. It’s the way he said it, as if he’s got a say in who I see.
Newsflash, he doesn’t.
I raise a brow, and he challenges me with a sharp look of his own.
“Hang on, Sam. One second.” Jackson lowers the phone from his ear and puts his hand over the receiver. “What did you say, Chris? I couldn’t hear you?” he asks my brother, who silently seethes.
Turning his head, he glowers at him. “I said she’s off limits—”
“Sorry, what was that?” Jackson cups his ear, and my brother reaches for a flowery scatter cushion behind him, which he tosses at him. Jackson falls back, barking a wheezy laugh. I throw them a withering look and head for my room. They might be in their twenties, but I swear they act like kids.
Once I kick the door shut, I set my glass of water on the bedside table and plop down on the springy mattress. I still have a few episodes left to watch of the final season of Riverdale. Although the show has been out for years, I’ve only recently gotten around to watching it.
I finish my sandwich in three bites before sliding the laptop toward me and scooting farther up the bed until my back rests against the wall.
Music thumps in the living room. Eminem’s “Til I Collapse” pounds through the speakers. Sick song, sure. Doesn’t mean my brother has to wake the dead with the bass, though.
I plug in my headphones and check my text messages to see if my sister has reached out yet. She’s babysitting the neighbor’s kid tonight. He is six and a whirlwind of energy.
Never a dull moment.
I’m not great with kids, but my sister has that natural maternal air about her.
There are no new messages from Summer, so everything must be good on her end. Rain has sent me a voice message and three new reels. I’m in the middle of watching one when a new text from Kane pops up on my screen.
Kane:
You can’t ignore me forever, princess.
I tip my head back with a groan. His messages go unanswered because, let’s be real, we’re not a thing, despite him always reaching out.
What part of ‘we’re from different worlds’ is so hard to understand?
Besides, every time we’re near each other, we do insane things I’ve never considered doing before.
Crazy things… like me pulling a gun on him.
Ugh, I was gone for the spark in his eyes when he goaded me. Why was it so hot?
I squeeze my thighs together and bang my head against the back of the wall. Screw you, Kane Ravencourt.
Why does he arouse me this much? I don’t get it. What is this deviant part of my brain that he lit up that day in his office when he overpowered me and I pulled my gun on him?
My hand trails south, and my teeth sink into the flesh of my lip. Don’t judge me for touching myself, okay? It’s not ideal.
Trust me, I’m aware.
But I can’t help how my body reacts to Kane. As it turns out, the guy has a direct link to my clit.
The phone vibrates again, but I ignore it, slipping my fingers beneath my waistband.
The slickness there gives me away, every nerve ending alive beneath my touch.
I imagine how intensely he watched me that night while stroking himself.
Kane practically vibrated with the desire to take control of the situation.
Which was so hot.
I part my pussy lips and trace my fingers through the slickness and over the sensitive pearl.
The boys’ voices drift through the thin walls, and Jackson’s raucous laugh sounds above the heavy base.
For once, I’m grateful they are loud and can’t hear the breathy moan that tumbles from my lips.
I bite down on the plump flesh, but it’s already too late. The moan is out.
Circling my sensitive clit, I picture Kane’s expressive eyes… that hungry glint darkening the blue sky when he’s aroused.
The way that look says, ‘Just you wait, little rabbit.’
I whimper, reaching underneath my tank top to squeeze my breast as my core coils tighter and tighter.
The orgasm is slowly building, swirling between my legs.
My hand moves faster, chasing the touch of him.
He’d like this, wouldn’t he? Knowing I can’t touch myself without thinking of him.
I slip two fingers inside my wet heat, pumping slowly, imagining Kane’s devilish touch.
The way he fingerbanged me like he wanted to prove a point. Rough. Fast.
Touching me like he owned me.
“Kane,” I whimper, and my back arches.
Close. I’m so close.
“Come for me, princess,” a voice whispers in my ear, and I almost die of fright, but before I can let out a startled scream, a large hand clamps over my mouth.
Kane studies my face with an intensity that, if he didn’t scare me so much, could have pushed me over the edge. The pulse between my legs almost outmatches my racing heart. Whatever he sees when he looks at me like that must please him because his lips twitch.
“You’re fucking yourself and thinking of me? What a pleasant surprise.”
I try to shake my head, but he grips my face harder.
“A waste, don’t you think? You could have replied to my texts. I would have come over to help scratch that itch.”
Kane has the most expressive, yet somehow mysterious eyes. Like the deepest trench, with all its secrets buried there for anyone brave enough to dive in. The chances of coming out alive are slim. I can already feel my conflicting emotions crashing in on me from all sides, and there’s no escape.
“Let me see your fingers,” he says, and my eyes flare.
No, please, no. He’ll see what he does to me. I’m already humiliated enough. How did he get in anyway? Through the window?
I try to peer past him, but he jerks my eyes back to his.
“Shhh, princess.” He peels the quilt back while my brother and the others continue talking in the next room. The door is unlocked. What if Chris comes in? He rarely knocks, no matter how many times I shout at him. One of these days, he’ll see something he won’t be able to unsee.
Warm fingers wrap around my wrist, and Kane is bringing my glistening fingers up between us, making my cheeks heat.
“Did it feel good, baby?”
Honestly? I’m dying inside. Kane’s eyes gleam with a possessive hunger that makes my toes curl and awakens something primal I didn’t know was so… starved. On one hand, I want him to go to hell. We don’t know each other well. We’ve barely had a conversation.
On the other hand, screw that shit. Let’s ravage one another. The electric energy between us crackles like it’s alive, and all I can think about is him and his hands on me, his mouth on my nipples, his cock splitting me apart.
The ache between my legs becomes too much, so I close my eyes.
Kane shouldn’t behave like that. He can’t just climb into my bedroom without permission.
That’s not okay. I should be furious about it.
I mean, that’s a major red flag, right? Although right now, I can barely even think about that.
He has me so scrambled and aroused that all I can think about is his hot mouth as he wraps it around my fingers.
A sharp breath hitches in my throat, and he sucks hard, his wicked tongue a soft contrast against my skin. Those eyes lock me in place, whispering, Watch me.
“I’m going to let go of your mouth now. Will you be quiet for me?”
I nod before I even understand what I’m doing, and Kane—confident that I won’t scream for help—slowly pulls his hand from my mouth and wraps his fingers around my throat. My pulse pounds wildly beneath his grip as he leans in and brushes his nose against mine.
Up close, he’s even more beautiful. Tousled dark hair. A small scar on his cheekbone. Lips that aren’t too full but look soft enough to make my own tingle in anticipation of a kiss I shouldn’t want but desperately crave.
“You shouldn’t be here, Kane,” I breathe, hyperaware of his minty breath on my mouth.
“You left me on Read, little rabbit.”
“Because I don’t want to talk to you.”
A wolfish grin curves his mouth. “Good thing I’m not here to talk.”
God, does he have to say hot things like that?
My thighs rub together again, and he notices, tilting his head slightly as he studies the emotions I struggle to keep in check.
If only he couldn’t read me like an open book.
If only my nipples didn’t harden when Malice barks a laugh in the other room, unaware that a ‘Heights’ is in my room.
Why is the forbidden so hot? They won’t hesitate to kill Kane if they find out he’s in here.
“Please, leave.”
“You’re shivering,” he says low.
“Please, Kane.”
Please leave. Please touch me.