7. Kieran #2
Kyler groans, and I pull away. He comes, his hips stuttering, his cock pulsing inside her as he fills her. She collapses against him, her breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps, her body trembling with aftershocks.
I press one last kiss to her thigh before standing up, my lips curled in a satisfied smirk. Kyler's hands slide up her body, his fingers brushing over her skin as he presses a kiss to her shoulder.
She's limp between us, her eyes heavy-lidded, her lips parted, her chest rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths. Kyler's arms wrap around her, holding her close, his lips brushing her ear.
"Good night," he murmurs, and her eyes flutter shut, a soft sigh escaping her lips.
* * *
The afternoon sun slants through the floor-to-ceiling windows, painting the mahogany desk in stripes of gold as I drag my pen across the document. The numbers blur for half a second before I blink them back into focus. That's when the office door swings open without so much as a courtesy knock.
"Hello."
I look up. It's Kelsey.
"Hi." My eyes flick back to the contract, but the words swim. I exhale through my nose. "You need something?"
"No."
"Then why are you in my office?"
"I was bored."
My gaze snaps up, and there she is, leaning against the doorframe like she owns the place. Cornflower blue eyes spark with mischief, her cognac brown curls tumbling over one shoulder.
She's wearing those damn cutoff shorts again, the ones that hug the curve of her hips just right, and a faded band tee that's been washed so many times it clings to her like a second skin.
"That sounds like a personal problem."
She shrugs, all nonchalant. "Or an 'us' problem."
I smirk, and she tilts her head, studying me like I'm some kind of puzzle she's determined to solve. The silence stretches, thick and charged, until she finally pushes off the doorframe and saunters in.
I force my attention back to the document, but the words might as well be in another language. Then the chair across from my desk creaks under her weight.
"What does that word mean?"
I don't look up. "What word?"
Her finger jabs the air, pointing at the document like it's personally offended her. "That one."
"It means indemnification."
"What does that mean?"
"I don't have time for this."
She grins, all teeth and challenge. The kind of smile that says she's already won, even if I don't know what game we're playing.
I narrow my eyes. She doesn't flinch. Just sits there, looking entirely too pleased with herself, like she's just discovered the world's best-kept secret.
"You're working too much."
"I've been pushing it off lately… because of a certain someone."
"You could take a break."
"I took one yesterday."
"That was not a break. That was two hours of listening to Kyler complain about the plot of the movie you've chosen."
"Still took one."
She leans forward, elbows on her knees, curls spilling over her shoulders. "He was right, you know."
"He wasn't."
"He definitely was."
I sigh, the sound sharp enough to cut glass, and resume reading. She watches the movement, her fingers drumming against the arm of the chair.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
I ignore it.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
"Kelsey."
"What?"
"Stop."
She stops. For three whole seconds. Then her fingers start up again, the rhythm quickening like she's testing how far she can push me. My jaw clenches, the muscle jumping under the skin. I stare at her, unblinking.
She smiles.
I try to return to my work, but she continues with her game. Her questions come:
Why do I use this pen instead of that one?
Why are the files arranged this way?
Do I actually read every page of every contract, or do I just skim?
They get more ridiculous with every breath until I finally slam the pen down, the sound sharp in the quiet.
"You're doing this deliberately."
She blinks, all wide-eyed innocence. "Doing what?"
"Distracting me."
The corners of her mouth twitch. "Is it working?"
"Yes."
She laughs, the sound bright and unapologetic, and something in my chest loosens. I lean back in the chair, the leather creaking under my weight, and finally give her what she wants… my full attention. The afternoon light catches the gold flecks in her eyes, turning them molten.
"There. Happy?"
"Very."
"You've accomplished absolutely nothing."
"I got you to stop working."
"For what?"
"For my amusement."
I shake my head, but the smile tugging at my mouth is impossible to ignore. She catches it immediately, her own grin widening like she's just won the jackpot.
"You smiled."
"No, I didn't."
"You did."
"You're imagining things."
"I saw it." She grins wider, and the room settles into something warm, something comfortable. Like the hum of a well-oiled engine, or the quiet crackle of a fire on a cold night.
Eventually, she pushes out of the chair and circles the desk, her bare feet silent against the hardwood. My pulse kicks up a notch as she leans over my shoulder, close enough that I can feel the heat of her body, smell the vanilla in her hair. My fingers twitch against the armrests.
"What are you doing?"
"Looking at your paperwork."
"It's boring."
"Maybe." She laughs again, the sound low and throaty, and for a moment, I just watch her. The way her curls catch the light. The way her lips part when she's amused. The way her eyes dance with mischief.
This kind of interruption would've usually had me snarling. But when it's her? I find myself wanting it. The realization hits me like a punch to the gut.
She's become woven into the ordinary rhythm of this house.
The way her voice drifts through the hallway in the morning, bright and unfiltered.
The way she wanders into my office whenever she decides I've been working too long.
The way she argues with Kyler over breakfast, or steals the last slice of bacon just to watch him scowl.
The way she fits here, like she's always been here.
And somewhere along the way, I've started feeling fonder of this house. It's become home because she's in it.
"Earth to Kieran."
Kelsey leans forward, her face inches from mine. My hand finds the back of her neck, fingers tangling in those wild curls. I pull her closer, and my lips land on hers, her fingers clutching at my shirt like she's afraid I'll let go.
But she shouldn't. Because she's intoxicating. And I'm already addicted.
The shrill ring of my phone stops us. I glance at the screen, declining it.
We start kissing again, but then my phone rings again.
Kelsey straightens. "You should take that."
"It's not important."
"It probably is." She smiles. "We can just continue later… with Kyler. Who knows what he'll say when he finds something happened without him."
I chuckle. She turns toward the door, her curls bouncing with the movement, and something tightens in my chest. I don't want her to go.
"Kelsey."
She pauses, one hand on the doorknob, and glances over her shoulder. "Yeah?"
"Thanks for the distraction."
Her smile softens, turning something in my gut to liquid. "Anytime."
She slips out, the door clicking shut behind her, and I'm left staring at the empty space where she stood. The silence in the room is deafening. I pick up the phone, but I don't answer it right away.
Instead, I sit there, the weight of the device heavy in my hand, and think about the way she laughed. The way this house feels different when she's in it—lighter, warmer, alive.
Kelsey hasn't just become part of my life.
She's become the most important aspect of it.