“Tell me the story,” he urged.
I tossed back the rest of my drink and pushed to my feet. “It’s not important.”
I could feel Kieran’s eyes on me as I moved over to the sideboard and poured more scotch into my glass. I tossed it back, hating the fury I felt whenever I thought about my mother and what she’d done. But my anger wasn’t because of my disappointment in her. No, I was pissed because of how Emily had been hurt by it all. Cast aside as though she hadn’t mattered. By God, she mattered. To me, she was everything.
I added more to my glass, but before I could pick it up, Kieran stopped me, gripping my arm.
“I want to know.”
I turned to face him, met his gaze, and held it momentarily.
“I want to know everything about you,” Kieran said, stepping into my personal space.
I’d gotten used to his forwardness in the time I’d known him. Kieran had been making advances since the very first day I’d been introduced to him. At the same time, he’d gotten used to my rejection, but that never seemed to deter him. No matter how many times I pushed him away, he always came back for more, pecking away at my restraint, looking for a way in. I got the feeling he knew he was close to accomplishing his goal because he was getting more insistent, more seductive with his methods.
I studied his face, the high cheekbones, the perfect lips. “You know the important things.”
His voice lowered as he leaned closer. “I know nothing.”
For a brief moment, I considered taking what this man offered. I knew if I would only give in, I could sate some of this overwhelming lust that churned in my veins. No matter how many women or men I fucked, I was never sated fully, and I suspected there were two reasons for that.
One: Emily Campbell.
Two: Kieran O’Rourke.
My initial infatuation with Emily had been multiplied tenfold when Kieran came into my life. I couldn’t even ascertain why, but something prompted me to start fantasizing about the two of them together.Thatwas what got me off during the sexual encounters with nameless, faceless people.Thatwas what got me off during the cold, lonely nights when I tossed and turned, my thoughts always returning to them.
“You’re thinking about her again,” Kieran whispered.
He was close enough now I could feel his body heat through the crisp white shirt he wore. I knew beneath that shirt was a body primed by a dedicated gym regimen and a mostly healthy diet, save for the copious amounts of whiskey he drank and his affinity for breakfasts made for kings. I found him insanely attractive, I wouldn’t deny that.
I held my ground, refusing to back down.
That was my first mistake.
I inhaled sharply when Kieran’s knuckles lightly grazed the iron-hard length of my cock behind the expensive material of my slacks.
“Don’t do this, Kieran,” I warned.
“Don’t do what?” he taunted, his knuckles brushing more insistently now. “I know you think about it. It’s time you stop fighting it.”
I narrowed my gaze, daring him to continue.
“Tell me,” he demanded, his hand turning so that he was cupping me firmly, the heel of his palm gliding firmly down the length of my cock.
“Fuck,” I hissed, my hips belying my will to resist, thrusting forward to add friction on my aching dick.
“Tell me … about her,” Kieran growled, stepping closer so that his lips nearly brushed mine. “Tell me all the filthy fucking things you want to do to her, Knox.”
I was tempted. No doubt about it, but I refrained, refusing to give in.
“Fine.” Kieran’s fingers went to my belt. “I’ll tell you whatIwant you to do to her.”
He held my gaze while he unhooked the belt, flipped the button free. I could’ve stopped him, could’ve shoved him away. Kieran gave me every opportunity, but I remained where I was, allowing him to free my cock.
“I want you to strip her slowly,” he said, his breath fanning my mouth as he lowered the zipper then slipped his hand inside my slacks.
“She’s a goddamn teenager,” I ground out.
