Page 30 of Rough Ride

Without an ounce of gentleness, he grabbed a handful of her hair and crashed his lips down on hers in a bruising and merciless kiss.

They arrived back at the house not a moment too soon as the sky opened up and rain began soaking the ground again. It wasn’t the pleasant sort of spring rain that made the air smell fresh and helped to water the budding trees and flowers. It was the sort of rain that raged as though winter was bitter it was being cast aside, so with one spiteful act of revenge, it tore across the earth with her icy shards of water like a final slap in the face.

Eliana shucked her coat and hung it up before kicking her shoes into the corner to dry. She nearly jumped out of her skin when Kye slammed the door behind her. He was in a foul mood. It radiated off him in waves of heat. Without so much as taking off his muddy shoes and cut, he stomped up the stairs and a minute later she heard his bedroom door thump shut as though he’d kicked it.

Sighing herself, she went into the kitchen and started the kettle for a hot cup of tea. The scene in the park had taken them straight through dinner, and her stomach rumbled in hunger. As the water heated, she pulled a few ingredients out of the refrigerator to make chicken and rice. It wasn’t gourmet, but it would be warm and filling. The chicken was easy enough as she heated it in the oven with some butter and salt while the rice seeped in the same hot water from the kettle she used to make her tea.

There were no sounds in the house without Kye in the room, and the sounds of the storm grew. Unable to tolerate the silence, she turned on the small kitchen TV to the news. Unsurprisingly, the entire evening segment was focused on the weather and a handsome man in a suit was indicating parts of the coast would be flooding by gesturing to a map that replaced the green screen behind him.

Long after she’d finished her cup of lemon and ginger tea, Eliana still felt chilled. Her clothes weren’t wet, but there was a dankness that had sunk into her ever since their argument in the park. She missed her tree. It seemed childish and reminded her of the existential ending of The Giving Tree, but she did.

Her thoughts fell back to what Kye had said, ‘It’s a loss, and you cry over losing a friend’. His submission of her attachment to it because of her lack of stability as a child was spot on. Whenever her father had been too drunk to be around or the kids at school had bullied her, she always found her feet trekking back to that tree. She hadn’t realized how important it was to her, how many beautiful memories she had of it. Kye was exactly right. She’d lost a friend. She’d lost so many things.

Determined not to feel sorry for herself, Eliana stared into her cup of tea and tried to reassure herself that everything was going to be okay. The tree was an omen that, like it, she would face storms and be torn down. Maybe her life was like that little apple tree Kye had forcefully planted. While she didn’t want to be planted there, she was going to make the best of it and, in his words, ‘make the best fucking apples anyone had tasted!’

Though the statement was slightly amusing on its own, she couldn’t bring herself to smile. It seemed too exhausting to smile at the moment. Not when her heart felt so heavy. Not when images of Kye’s fierce expression still plagued her. He’d been livid at her comment about dying and being buried. More than livid, he was positively enraged. It was so unlike him.

While she’d seen glimpses of his temper since their reunion, this was something else entirely. She’d not just pissed him off, she’d offended him. Calm, steady, patient Kye was angry. Angry at her. Objectively she couldn’t blame him. He’d asked her to trust him, she’d declared that she did, then went back on that to sarcastically implicate that not only would he let her die but that he’d be the one to bury her.

Chewing on her bottom lip, she began to feel very sorry for her comments. She’d allowed her melancholy over the loss of her tree to make her reckless with her words, and she’d hurt him. Somehow it did make her feel slightly better knowing that she could affect him, though. It wasn’t in her nature to be the emotional one in the room and pitted against Kye’s unyielding resolve, she’d often been the tantrum to his temper.

Tucking the leftovers onto a single plate and brewing a second cup of tea, Eliana quietly walked upstairs. The light to Kye’s room was on, but when she tried the door, she found it was locked.

“Kye?” she asked, and there was no reply. “Kye?” she called a little louder. Waiting a moment, she still heard no response. “I wanted to say I’m sorry,” she said, hoping he wasn’t asleep, and her words weren’t lost to the oak door. “You were right about what you said. That tree was important to me. I was upset, and I let it get to me. I didn’t mean to upset you too.” She heard a little shuffling from inside the room, but the door remained closed. “The willow served its purpose,” she continued, “when I needed it, it was there. It held me up and sheltered me for a lot of years. I’d like to think the tree died after I left because it knew I didn’t need it anymore. I could stand on my own now.” She felt a little foolish being so sentimental while staring at a closed door. “Anyway, I made some dinner. It’s out here if you want it. I’m going to bed.”

Setting the plate and mug down, Eliana padded slowly back to her room. She waited and when she didn’t so much as hear his door open, she undressed and went reluctantly to bed with nothing but the memories of his warmth to keep her company.

* * *

Kye had finished the plate of food and left the dish sitting on the top of the dresser as he jumped into a hot shower. He’d spent the evening brooding in his room, pouring over the plans he’d been working on determined to save Eliana’s ungrateful life no matter what. Having sulked for that long, he was cold all the way to his bones and even after eating, he needed to warm up.

Standing under the steaming heat for only a few minutes, he thought he heard something. Turning the water off, he stood silently listening. The storm was raging outside, loud peals of thunder following flashes of lightning, but it was the loud scream that tore him from the shower.

Grabbing his pistol from the end table, he raced down the hallway. A second scream and he kicked Eliana’s bedroom door open sure that he was going to find one of Max’s goons, if not the man himself, strangling her. Instead, he saw Eliana sitting up in bed, blankets clutched to her chest, and sweat mixing with her tears.

“What? What is it? Did someone hurt you?” he asked, still aiming the gun at anything and everything in the room. Eliana was visibly shaking, and it took a moment for her eyes to focus as she had clearly been abruptly ripped from sleep.

“I was asleep... the thunder it sounded like gunfire, and I thought, in my dream, I was being shot at, and I thought it was… I thought it was real,” she choked out. Kye sighed, his adrenaline levels dropping as he lowered his weapon.

“It was only a dream, Eli,” he said, rubbing his face. “Just go back to sleep,” he tried to encourage from the doorway. When he removed his hand from his eyes, he caught the strange expression on her face that was illuminated by the flash of lightning that momentarily filled the room. Her eyes had been, not on his, but roaming over him in shocked curiosity. Remembering he had been showering, he hadn’t so much as wrapped a towel around himself in his haste to get to her.

“Kye…” Her voice was so quiet he could barely hear it over the rain outside. Another bolt of lightning lit up the room, and this time, her eyes found his. The look wasn’t curiosity, and it wasn’t shock. It was desire. Raw. Primal. Potent desire. He could taste it in the air.

Placing his gun on the desk, he closed her bedroom door with his foot. The accompanying roll of thunder shook the windows and masked her gasp as he pulled back the covers and climbed into bed next to her. His hair was wet. She felt it brushing against her face when he kissed her. His skin was clammy, but his mouth was hot, and when he leaned over her to press her back into her pillows, she forgot all about her nightmare and lost herself in his touch.

The room was painfully black and had no reprieve save for the sporadic flashes from outside. While this may have been a handicap should they want to see each other, it worked wonders on heightening their other senses. Eliana was keenly aware of the soapy way he smelled, and Kye could taste every delicious inch of her mouth as he devoured it.

They moved without thought, only instinct. Their minds had played this moment thousands of times since they’d first shared this bed ten years ago, so it wasn’t any surprise the way Kye slid between her legs so easily. Her thighs gripped his waist salaciously, and his hand dove under the band of her panties to stroke her.

No passing thunderclap covered the sound of the moan she let out when his finger slid inside her, and Kye felt all traces of cold leave as she poured heat into him from her body. She was groping at him in earnest, begging him with her body to fill her. Kye took hold of her hand that was reaching for his shaft and pinned it above her head.

“Slowly,” he whispered into her ear, and she shivered. Her breathing settled, and her bare chest pressed against him as he guided her with gentle rocking motions. Their hips fit together, his erection tucked between her legs, and his mouth moved back to hers. She moaned. Long and slow as his tongue slid in and out of her mouth. His soft lips moved almost lazily against hers.

She had never been kissed like this before. Languid and smoldering, he burned into her as he demonstrated exactly how he was going to take her. To fill her. To claim her. Not soon enough for her liking, but likely in just the right time for her body to be ready, Kye hooked two fingers in her underwear and pulled them off. She lay naked and spread open to him as he gazed down at her. Though neither could see well in the dark, their hands moved with familiarity.

Bowing to her, Kye kissed his way up the inside of her knee to her thigh where he left a trail of small bites that had her toes curling. He paused in his ascent to drag his tongue along her folds, and a cry of pleasure escaped her throat before he was peppering kisses on her stomach then devouring her breasts with more aggression.

“Kye, don’t stop this time, please,” she pleaded as her shaky hands held onto his shoulders. His mouth left her breast. His face moved up toward hers.