Page 37 of Pieces Into Place

I hesitate before asking my next question. “It’s obvious someone hurt you. Can I ask what happened?”

A small smile curves Kane’s lips. “Obvious?”

“Well, you have the world’s largest pole stuck up your ass. I imagine someone put it there.” It feels nice to have the focus off my sad past, and I find it impossible to stifle my chuckle at the visual.

He smiles again, but this time sadly. “My ex put it there,” he says, his face solemn. “With no lube.”

I wince at the thought of it. “Ouch,” I say before continuing in a more serious tone.

“What did she do?”

“She left me for some guy from high school while I was off fighting bad guys,” he says with a sigh. “She unilaterally decided after three years that I wasn’t able to give her the life she wanted.” Kane’s voice is heavy with sadness as he recounts his story. His eyes seem distant, as if reliving the past. He takes a hefty sip from a tall glass of water and I watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows before continuing. “Here’s the real kick in the nuts, though,” he says. “She told me right after I found out my best friend had died. She was already living with the new guy, with my dog, in his house.”

“She sounds like a real twat waffle,” I reply casually, causing Kane to return to the moment and howl with laughter. This is the most relaxed I’ve ever seen him, and it makes me feel good that I’m the reason for it.

“Nah,” he says with a shake of his head. “It’s not her fault. She’s not wrong about a lot of things. I was married to my career in the military. I loved her, but she did come second.” His eyes drift off again, lost in thought as he remembers the past few years of his life.

“So they really made you leave the military because of a head injury?” I ask. He absently rubs his temples and answers quietly, “One too many hits to the old ‘noggin’. They wouldn’t let me keep doing the kind of work that meant everything to me.” His hands form tight fists as he continues.

“Did that kind of work involve killing people?” I ask.

He doesn’t speak for a while, allowing the silence to stretch between us until it’s almost unbearable. Finally, he looks me directly in the eye and nods slowly. I can feel a sudden shift in our relationship; like we are no longer strangers, but two kindred souls connected by shared understanding and pain.

My instincts compel me to go to him, to comfort him somehow. So, I get up, taking a step toward him, and he parts his legs, inviting me in. His eyes are lowered, but I can see the corners twitch with anticipation. My hands slide into his hair, and soft strands that are like feathers tickle my palms. His head falls back into my touch and a ragged sigh escapes from his lips.

My thumb passes over a raised spot on the left side of his head, just inside his hairline. I trace its outline and feel the scar. He reaches up and grabs my wrist, pulling me closer as if begging for more of my touch. I lean down to kiss the scar and leave my lips there for an endless moment, inhaling his scent.

When I pull away, Kane’s eyes meet mine. They hold the same desire that courses through my veins, igniting a strong fire between us. We’ve always felt something between us, sparkles of attraction here and there, but this is different. Something real has taken root and it’s unmistakable.

The room becomes inexplicably smaller and the air suddenly thickens. The heat around us is tangible, and every breath we take feels more charged than the last. I can feel my pulse quicken, knowing that even the slightest move would send this spark of desire into a full-fledged fire. But there is also hesitation, fear even, palpable in both of us.

I take a step back and instantly feel relief from the physical distance between us but it only makes me want him more. My fingertips ache to explore his skin and my lips yearn for his touch.

Breaking the tension first, Kane rises smoothly from his seat and recomposes himself, returning to his usual business-like demeanor.

“It’s getting late,” he announces as if nothing happened. “You should get some sleep.”

Agreeing with a nod, I headed up to the loft, knowing everything will be different after tonight.

Chapter eighteen

Olivia

When I was younger, I would spend hours lying in my bed straining to hear the distinct sounds of Shaemus’s henchmen walking the halls outside my room. I’d listen for clues about their activities: conversations being whispered, doors being opened and closed, and small rustlings in the kitchen.

The past few nights I’ve been lulled to sleep by Kane’s snores echoing through the small cabin. Tonight is different; he seems restless, tossing and turning, sighing loudly as he gets out of bed to get a glass of water. But instead of the sound of even breathing when he finally falls asleep, I can make out the sound of sheets pulled down before settling into an uneasy peace.

As I lie in bed, I hear a subtle change in Kane’s breathing. It grows faster and the pull-out sofa creaks with each rhythmic movement. My skin tingles and my own breaths get caught in my throat as I realize he is pleasuring himself.

I really should cover my ears and give him privacy, but something primal inside me needs to witness this moment of raw passion.

I slowly rose from the bed, pausing to listen for any sign that he heard me. When I don’t hear anything, I tiptoe quietly down the stairs, stopping at the landing when he comes into full view. He is a vision of pure male beauty, his nakedness unashamedly on display. The sweat glistening over his body as he succumbs to the pleasure can be seen in the dim light of the fading fire.

His legs are slightly parted, and his toned thighs flex as he strokes his cock, his movements becoming faster. I watch him with rapt attention, my own desire stirring in response. With my eyes glued to the sight of his hand fisted around his cock, I slide my fingers into my panties and feel myself slick. I start circling my clit slowly, feeling the sensations build at a rapid pace.

As if sensing my gaze on him, his eyes snap open and land directly on me. Instead of stopping or looking embarrassed or mad, his strokes increase while his eyes drop to where my hand is inside my sleep shorts. I’m too swept up in the feelings of pleasure to care that he caught me watching him, or care about what I’m currently doing.

The lustful look on his face intensifies, and his strokes become more urgent. My breathing becomes more shallow as the feelings overwhelm me, and a small moan escapes me when I increase the pressure of my fingers. Kane’s eyes darken at the sound and we lock gazes, a low groan rumbling from his chest in response. His movements become more jerky, indicating he’s getting close.