The Valentine's Arrangement (19 page)

She squirmed on his lap. It had been two months since she had been with him, and the easy way his hands touched her had her quickly slickening between her legs. A raspy moan vibrated in her throat and ricocheted out of her mouth. The sounds caused Kale’s fingers to dig into the flesh of her thighs—it was almost painful, but she apparently didn’t mind pain either because she fucking liked it. She liked the way he responded to her.

His hands journeyed under her dress and slipped onto her hips. His head jerked away from her so abruptly that she laughed.

“What the hell is this?”—his perfectly crafted mouth pulled up in a felicitous grin, his eyes looking at her like she was a shiny new toy on Christmas morning—“no panties?”

Ronnie bit the corner of her lower lip, trying hard not to combust from the look he was giving her. “Do you see how tight this dress is? No panty lines on this girl,” she said, intentionally shifting her hips on his lap so she was pressed against him just right…

“Damn, Sweetheart,” he said, sliding her dress up over her hips and latching on to her ass. “I’m one lucky son of a bitch.”

His lips slammed against hers, consuming her and possessing her. His tongue parted her lips, tangling with hers, and exploring every last space of her mouth. She needed this too; she needed it just as much as he did. She didn’t realize how badly until now. She wanted him to possess her; she wanted him to claim her, to take her for everything she had to offer…and more.

“God, I’ve missed you,” he said as he brushed her hair away from her shoulder and pressed his lips to the curve near her neck. “I can’t even begin to tell you how much I’ve missed you. I thought about touching you, tasting you, every day.” His lips scattered open mouth kisses along her collarbone and up the center of her throat, causing her chin to tip toward the ceiling so he could kiss her more. His hands slid up the back of her dress as his teeth nipped at her chin.

“I’ve missed you too,” she admitted, whispering so quietly that she wasn’t sure he heard her, she wasn’t sure she wanted him to hear her. But he did.

He pulled away, his stormy blue eyes, clouded by desire, quickly cleared as he studied her face. “You did?”

She wanted to laugh, or to fucking punch him in the arm, or maybe even cry at the desperation in his words. The longing they held. It was her fault. She had let him believe that she didn’t want more; that she didn’t want him. She was so worried about protecting her heart that she forgot to protect his. She was so busy denying it, trying to convince herself that he was nothing more than sex. But she knew better, deep down she knew—and damn it, it hurt.

“Talk to me, baby.” His hand left her back and closed around her wrist, gently pulling her hand off his chest. Her eyes followed his hand as he brought her knuckles to his mouth brushing his lips across them before he kissed each finger. His tenderness plugged her throat trapping any words she had hoped to say. The way he regarded her was almost terrifying. Not even Brandon had this effect on her. He was never able to render her speechless and motionless by the touch of his lips or the heat of his gaze. No, it wasn’t almost terrifying. It was way past that.

“Ronnie”—his hand wrapped around her neck, this thumb massaging the skin below her ear—“are you okay?” His lips bushed across hers briefly before he focused his eyes on her again, trying to coat her with his reassurance.

She distracted herself, pulling up the hem of his t-shirt and lifting it above his head. His surprised expression tugging at her newly sappy heart strings.

She skimmed her nails up his bare stomach and over his hard chest. A tremble waved through him as she flicked her tongue out and licked the skin above the soft patch of hair on his chest.

“I could have missed this chance”—she lifted her head off his chest and held his gaze with her own vulnerable stare—“I could have missed the chance to tell you…to be with you again.” Moisture accumulated above her bottom lashes, her throat stinging. What the fuck was wrong with her? Well, she kind of had an idea what it could be…

Ronnie was on an emotional rollercoaster—in the last few minutes she had been up and down and around again. It was fucking exhausting.

“But you didn’t,” Kale said, bringing her back from inside her head. “I’m here.”

Yes, he was here, and she wasn’t waiting any longer. She climbed off his lap, watching as Kale’s eyes followed her every move. She stood between his thighs and pulled her dress off over her head, then reached behind her back and unhooked her bra, letting it drop to the ground.

“You’re so beautiful,” Kale sighed, drinking in the sight of her naked body in front of him.

She leaned over him, hooked her fingers under the waste of his shorts, and pulled them down along with his boxers, his erection springing free. She pulled them down around his ankles and he lifted his feet so she could pull them completely off. She rose back up; still standing between his massive thighs, and when she looked back down at him, her heart slammed so hard against her lungs she had to force a sharp intake of air into them in order to breathe.

Kale followed her gaze down to his mangled leg. “I know…” he sighed.

She met his eyes briefly, her chest heaving with the need to calm down so she could breathe properly. His thigh looked like it had gone through a meat grinder. She thought the side of his face was bad, but nothing compared. She couldn’t imagine the pain he felt—it physically hurt her just to look at it. She didn’t know how his leg survived such an injury, how he survived.

She didn’t know what to say, so she didn’t say anything, she just kneeled between his legs. His face went stoic, watching her carefully.

She slid her hands gently up his calves and up to his knees. When she reached the start of his thighs, she met his eyes. His breathing was ragged, his jaw was flexed, his body still, but his eyes—they were easy, soft, and a little bit sad. She slowly and carefully trailed her left hand up his thigh, her fingertips brushing over the tangles of hills and valleys of tissue that rose up off his skin, his leg muscles flexing beneath her touch. She trailed her right hand down his inner thigh until her nails skimmed over the smooth skin at the base of his shaft. His head rolled back and rested against the back of the couch.

She leaned her head forward, fighting back the tears that threatened to form as she looked down at the evidence—at the ugly truth of what he went though. She pressed her lips to the base of the scars that had already started forming on his healing flesh. She dotted kisses up over the ridges, and mounds of angry skin, each dusting of her lips causing Kale’s body to relax, softening beneath her touch. A wetness she was unaware of streamed hot down her cheeks and splashed in tiny puddles on Kale’s leg.

“Baby,” he whispered. The tremor in his voice had her stomach momentarily flopping over.

She lifted her head, her eyes zoning in on his intense gaze. “I’m so sorry,” she whimpered. The sound was so foreign to her, the commiseration in her voice startling her. She hated that this happened to him. She wanted to kiss away his pain, kiss away this horrible nightmare.

“Don’t be”—his hand cupped the side of her face, his thumb rubbing patterns over her lips—“I’m not.” His thumb moved over her cheek, swiping at the tears as they fell.

Ronnie stood. She stood in front of Kale, completely exposed in front of him, never feeling more beautiful in her life. He leaned forward on the couch, quietly grunting as he put pressure on his leg. His large hands clung to her waist and he pulled her closer, her knees hitting the top of the warm leather couch. His fingers traced the tattoo on her hip as his other hand slipped between her legs, his finger testing her dampness. A deep low moan rumbled in his chest as he plunged another finger inside her heated depths. Her head fell back and she wasn’t sure her legs could support her. Just when she thought her knees where going to give out on her, Kale wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her firm, holding her in place as he twisted his fingers inside her, hitting that spot, making her insides clamp down hard on his long fingers. And just like that, just as she was ready to explode, he withdrew from her.

He smiled through his eyes, knowing exactly what he had just done to her. “Come here,” he said softly, pulling her down on his lap. “I want to feel you come around me.” His erection flicked over her clit and she just about came undone right then. She wanted to feel that too. She wanted to feel him buried deep inside her until she could no longer think straight. She couldn’t wait any longer. She lifted her hips, his length springing underneath her, the tip hitting her entrance. She felt a warm drop of his arousal touch her as she slowly started to lower her hips.

Kale’s hands grabbed a hold of her, stopping her descend. “Wait, we need a condom.”

She leaned her forehead against his, her body trembling with the need to feel him fill her. “It’s okay, I’m on the pill.” Her voice was shaky.

“Are you sure?” he asked, but his grip on her loosened.

She nodded and sank onto him, slowly allowing her body to stretch to accommodate him. He sighed and he fell backwards, pressing into the back of the couch.

“Damn, baby. You feel so good,” he said, as she pressed down harder, angling her hips to hit just the right way.

Ronnie leaned down on his chest, her breasts pressing into the splatter of hair that curled between the muscles. He felt good too—better than good. So warm, so….here.

His hands held her face and he kissed her. The feel of his lips ignited a fire that flowed through her body, straight to core. She rolled her hips, allowing his length to ease out of her slowly. She was careful not to rest her weight on his bad leg as she rocked her body back and forth.

****

Kale hung onto Ronnie as her body seeped onto him, swallowing him in her warm depths. Thirty minutes ago, he was trapped in his own head, engulfed in the silence that stretched around him, but now he was so consumed with this confusing woman; and he was grateful for the distraction—more than that, he was just grateful for her.

He could feel the wanton desire dripping from her, adding a thin layer of silk between her thighs, encasing him in her sweet honey. God, she was perfect. He never knew it could feel like this—and he wasn’t referring to the sex.

The scar along his face was pulsing along to the rapid beat of his heart and his leg was screaming out in an excruciating pain, but neither one made a dent to the way his body felt having this woman on top of him again. Her body clinched around him, squeezing him tightly as she rolled her hips down, pressing him deep inside her.
Fuck.

Her lips were soft and sweet as she kissed him. He wanted to feel her come undone around him, and he would, but right now all he wanted was to flip her beneath him—he wanted it so damn bad. He wanted to cover her thin body with his and press her into the leather of the couch. He wanted his mouth on hers, everywhere. He wanted to taste her, smell her, kiss her. He wanted to, his leg be damned.

He lifted her off him, her face screwing tightly as his erection left her body.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice breathy and coarse as he laid her next to him on the couch.

“I’m trying to get my fill of you,” he said as he bit his teeth together and slowly but surely repositioned himself over her. “Although, I’m not sure that is entirely possible.” He knew it wasn’t. He would never have enough of her. But if this was the last time he had with her, he was going to make sure she remembered it.

His lips found hers again and he kissed her like he was a starving man, which wasn’t too far from the truth. He had never felt hungrier in his life, hungry for her. He brushed his lips over her mouth once more before he led the way down her body, taking his time with her breasts, swirling his tongue around her budded nipples. When he was satisfied with the attention he gave to them, he continued down her body, dotting warm kisses along the way. His lips traced over the tender skin above her public bone, her stomach trembling from the sensation.

“Kale—” she pleaded, and he loved the way her voice sounded when she begged for him. He would keep her begging for him all night long if he didn’t need her so badly himself.

“I know, baby, I know.”

He lowered his head, placing his mouth on her soft folds, breathing in, trying to memorize her sweet scent. She was so wet, dripping with arousal. He slowly and deliberately swiped his tongue from the base of her opening to her clit. She bucked and trembled and arched her back off the couch and he splayed his hand out over her stomach to keep her still.

She tasted so sweet, he wanted to savor every lick—he had to. Slowly, he circled her clit with his tongue, tracing over all the other spots he knew would make her squirm. Her legs dropped to the side and he couldn’t help the urge he had to dig his fingers into the soft flesh between her ass and her thighs. She moaned and pushed against his mouth, and he adjusted his speed to keep up with her circling hips.

He felt her body quickening; her breaths coming in short quick pants, her hands raking though his hair. He smiled against her glistening opening and plunged his tongue inside.

“Oh...Kale…please…”

He withdrew his tongue, replacing it with his fingers, and licked a path back up to her clit. He stayed there, licking, sucking, and blowing softly while his fingers found her spot, stroking it over and over…

Her internal muscles tightened around his fingers as her climax rippled through her, soft moans turning into breathy cries. He rode it out with her, slowing his fingers as the aftershocks contracted around him.

“Kale, please…” she whispered, and he knew exactly what she needed, because he needed it too.

Chapter 15

Ronnie could tell Kale was struggling to lift his body back over her. She could see the vein in his neck bulge as his teeth crushed together—his biceps pulling all of his weight as pain radiated throughout his body. But she could also see the determination in his eyes. His was going to have her this way even if it killed him—she just hoped it wouldn’t.

When his heavy body finally covered her, she wanted to fucking sigh at the elation that she felt coursing through her veins.