Bound (26 page)

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Authors: Brenda Rothert

BOOK: Bound
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With one last glance at him, I turned to go. His body was angled away from his friendly fan, but she looked as enthusiastic as ever. I understood her interest. He hadn’t shaved in a few days, and his dark stubble got me every time, too. I was hoping to find out later if it felt as good as it looked.

But first, I had to go rescue mom, which was fitting since she’d rescued me dozens of times over the years, and then meet with Quinn. Just the thought of seeing him made my stomach knot nervously. Bad memories were easier to deal with when they weren’t staring you in the face.

 

Chapter 12

 

Quinn sat on a stool at the deli’s counter, his gaze focused on the white mug in front of him. I’d just stepped in the front door, and I considered turning around and walking back out. I didn’t owe him anything. If he was feeling bad about things, it was probably because he was a selfish asshole.

But the slump of his shoulders made me decide to give him five minutes. It wasn’t possible for him to hurt me now, anyway. Any faith I had in him was long gone.

I approached him with a forced smile.

“Kate.”
He turned my way, and a cool breeze of sadness and disappointment passed over me. I said nothing, just slid onto the stool next to him and waited. His hair was shorter now, the golden waves traded for a practical cut.

“You look good.” Was that relief I heard in his voice?

“I am good.”

“So . . . thanks for coming. I don’t want to keep you here long, I’m sure you’ve got stuff to do.” He cleared his throat and glanced around the nearly empty deli. “Did you want to order anything?”

“No, I’m okay.”

He nodded and sipped his coffee, staring straight ahead at the chalkboard that had “blackberry pie” scrawled across it. “I guess what I’d like to say to you is that I’m sorry, Kate. For . . . everything, really. From the time you told me you were pregnant, I didn’t do one thing right.”

“I didn’t need you,” I said, surprising even myself with the words. “Your support would’ve been nice. Just not dealing with your hostility would’ve helped. But it didn’t take long for me to realize I could do it on my own. I could have.”

Quinn
just nodded again, silent.

“What broke me was losing the baby,” I said. “Not losing you.”

“But I should’ve been there for you.” Even behind his glasses, I could see the swirling emotions in his hazel eyes. “I hate myself for the way I treated you. You’re a good person, and when you needed me, I bailed. I left you holding the bag.”

“Yeah,” I said softly. “But I
got through it. You know, when I’m old and gray and I’ve had a full and hopefully happy life -- when it’s time for me to leave this world -- a part of me will look forward to finally meeting my baby. I could have a dozen children, and she will always be my first one. But I won’t even remember you. I’ve already moved on from what went down between us, and you need to do the same. I forgive you, and I hope you’ll forgive yourself soon.”

I slid off of the stool,
knowing this was probably the last time I’d ever see him. It was possible we’d see each other in a crowd one day, living in the same city, or that I’d end up behind him in line at a coffee shop. But we wouldn’t smile, hug and catch up. This was it for us.

“Bye, Kate,” he said, his tone telling me he knew it, too.

“Bye, Quinn.”

“I hope . . . I mean, I just wish you all the happiness in the world. Really. You deserve it.”

I smiled as I wrapped my scarf around my neck, not thinking of Quinn, but Ryke. “Thanks. I think maybe I’ve found it.”

 

***

 

The light chill in the parking garage nipped at my cheeks, and I took in a cleansing breath. A walk in the brisk fall weather sounded perfect right now. I was going upstairs to see if Ryke would join me. I didn’t feel like talking about my conversation with Quinn, but I wanted the solid reassurance I got just from Ryke’s presence.

On the elevator ride up, I remembered my nervousness about seeing Quinn tonight. But it hadn’t bothered me. He was just the guy who bailed after our brief fling, and memories of our time together had already faded for me.

I walked through the front door and found Ryke sitting in a leather chair in the living room, his shoulders slumped forward and his elbows on his knees. When his eyes met mine, I saw something there I couldn’t place. His jaw was set tensely and it was obvious something wasn’t right. Was he angry?

“What’s the matter?” I asked, walking to him as I pulled my scarf off.

“That woman at the bar was nothing to me,” he said, his tone earnest. “That happens, and I don’t want you to think—”

“I don’t.” I slipped out of my coat and tossed it on the couch, si
tting down on the coffee table so we were at eye level. “I didn’t even know you saw me at the bar.”

“Luke saw you, but you were walking to the door and I couldn’t find you by the time I got outside. And you’ve been gone, and I couldn’t reach you.”

The drawn lines of his face told me he’d been sitting here worrying that I was upset with him. Geez, Maggie had really done a number on this poor guy.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I had my phone turned off because I was meeting with Quinn.”

“Quinn?” Now anger lit his eyes. “Goddammit, Kate, why the hell were you with him?”

I arched my brows and just looked at him for a few seconds. “I’m pretty sure I can see whoever I want.”

He shook his head and glared at me, raising his shoulders. “Yeah, see whoever you want. You’re right.” His detached tone told me I’d hit a nerve, but he had, too.

“It was nothing, Ryke. He wanted to apologize in person, and I guess I agreed to it for closure.”

“Who gives a shit if the guy gets closure? He’s an asshole and a coward—”

“Closure for both of us,” I said, reaching forward to touch his knee. “You know I have no interest in Quinn.”

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Yeah, I know. Every time I try to figure you out, I end up frustrated and pissed.”

“Why do you need to figure me out?”

“I need to know what you like . . . what you want. What makes you happy.”

“You’ve already got those things figured out,” I said, scooting closer to him.

He shook his head, his perplexed expression making me smile. “I’ve been sitting here waiting to explain that I wasn’t flirting with that woman, but you’re not even mad about it.”

“What’s to be mad about? You weren’t even paying attention to her.”

“I know, but—”

“I’m not Maggie,” I said softly. “Not to sound like I’m judging her, but I think you base your assumptions about me on her.”

He nodded, a shadow crossing his face. “Are you just the least jealous woman I’ve ever met?”

I laughed lightly. “I’m sure I’ve got it in me, but . . . is there someone I should be jealous of? I didn’t think you were seeing anyone else.”

“No, I’m not. And you’re not either, right?” His look of vulnerability tugged at my heart. Never had I expected such a sexy, successful man to want me all to himself.

“Of course not. I’ve had a mad crush on you from day one.”

His eyes flickered with warmth as he leaned forward and grabbed my hips. “I’ve had a mad crush back.”

I lunged, he grabbed, and we ended up in the chair, with me straddling his lap. His arms wrapped around my back tightly, molding our bodies together. The crush of his mouth against mine created a wave of desire in me, but there was something more
than just want in it. I knew it was time. I’d been shattered into pieces nearly a year ago, and it was time to put one of those pieces back into place.

Ryke stood, picking me up with him easily.
He walked toward the bedroom, his mouth never leaving mine. I raked my fingers up his back, winding them into the fabric of his shirt to slide it up. He paused, one hand cradled under my ass while the other whipped his shirt over his head.

My hands glided over ridges of muscle on his biceps. I squeezed his shoulders and pressed my hips against his
, a muffled moan escaping my lips when he pulled my shirt off and the warmth of his skin met mine.

The voice in my head was telling me to go slow, to savor this and relish every deep sensation. But I just couldn’t. When Ryke eased me onto the bed, hovering over me, I pulled at the waistband of his jeans, desperate to get them off.

The scrape of his scruffy cheeks and chin on my neck and chest as he kissed me was blissful torture.

“Now,” I said, the word coming out in a pant. “Please.”

His lips trailed slowly and deliciously back up my neck to my ear. “You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

His eyes darkened a shade, and we tore at each other’s clothes frantically. I’d waited almost a year, and now I wasn’t sure I could get through a full minute without this.

I laid back and waited as Ryke dug into a drawer in his nightstand, my chest rising and falling faster than usual. I couldn’t look away from the steel rod of his erection, which was as impressive as the rest of his body. Hopefully it would only hurt at first.

Ryke met my eyes as he opened the box of condoms. “I bought these for when you were ready. It’s not . . . I don’t want you to think I fuck women in here all the time and this is my stash.”

“Let’s fuck now and talk later,” I said. “I appreciate it, really, but just looking at you is going to make me come if you don’t hurry up.”

“Just this time,” he said with a tiny smile, rolling the condom down his length. “After this I’ll be calling the shots in bed, and there won’t be any hurrying.”

He kissed me, and I got so lost in the tender warmth of his lips that I cried out with surprise when he pushed himself into me.
Fuck
, it hurt, but I gripped his shoulders and urged him on. He went slow, and soon my body relaxed enough that I was arching myself into him, begging for more.

I couldn’t hold on long, and all inhibition left me as the wave of my climax swept through me.
I cried out Ryke’s name and buried my nails in his back. A stream of profanity mingled with moans until I finally started to come down, and the look of strained satisfaction on his face told me he’d come, too.

“Fuck,” he said softly, rolling onto his back. “I’m glad this place is sound proof. I’ve never been that loud before.”

I sat up on an elbow and looked at him, confused. “You were loud? I didn’t even hear you.”

“I think we were both loud,” he said, grinning.

I laid back down, lazy with satisfaction. “Even though I’m on the pill, you know . . . the condom was okay? It didn’t like, break or anything?”

“It’s good. No worries, Kate.” He laced his fingers into mine.

And the truth was, I wasn’t worried. Sex was a wall I hadn’t been sure I’d ever be able to climb again. And making it over had been well worth the effort.

 

***

 

Ryke

 

I dropped my head, faking disappointment for the dozenth time as the puck slid into the slot on the air hockey table.

“You’ve got some skills, man,” I told the skinny blond boy who was celebrating his win
by jumping up and down.

“Charlie, settle down,” a nurse in cartoon-covered scrubs said. “
We don’t want you to fall.”

“I’m next!” a teenage girl said, sliding into Charlie’s spot. She was pretty, bald and all, with pale blue eyes and a bright smile.

“You already played twice, Emily,” the nurse said. “Lunch is coming around, so we need to get you guys back to your rooms.”

The collective groan from the half dozen kids in the room did more for me than thousands of cheering fans had the night before. Some
of my teammates had to put on fake smiles when they visited the children’s hospital, but not me.

“Guys, what if I come back next week?” I said. “We’ll get the new video game stuff here and I’ll come play it with you.”

Their cheers made my eyes watery. What a pussy I was, tearing up like this. I rubbed a hand down my face to clear my head.

A young boy with dark skin and huge brown eyes stared at me from a wheelchair. He wasn’t celebrating with the rest of the kids, who were wound up over my offer to replace the children’s hospital
’s outdated video game system and tiny TV.

“Hey,” I said, kneeling in front of him, “Did you get
to play air hockey?”

He shrugged silently.

“Did he get to play?” I asked a nurse who was gathering up the jerseys I’d brought for the kids.

“Oh,” she said, walking over to us. “Deacon can’t play air hockey. He has very little strength in his arms.”

“Can he talk?”

She smiled and ruffled a hand through the boy’s dark hair. “He’ll talk your ear off. He’s just a little shy.”

“Deacon, what could we do together?” I asked. Another shrug.

“You could have lunch with him in his room,” the nurse suggested. Deacon’s eyes lit up and I nodded.

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