Effortless (Thoughtless, #2)(17)

As I fingered the smaller, silver guitar around my neck, the symbolic keepsake of him that he’d given to me when we’d been breaking off our affair, a keepsake that never left my body, I twisted my head to look at what had awoken me.

47



The sheets tangled and twisted around his body, his bare chest silver in the faded light pouring through his window, Kellan moved restlessly beside me. His brow furrowed, his face distraught, he was shaking his head and murmuring something I couldn’t make out. I twisted around to touch his cheek, but he flinched away from me like I’d hurt him.

“Kellan,” I whispered, “you’re dreaming…wake up.” His hand fisted the sheets near his hip. His breath picked up as he shook his head again and whimpered. Carefully adjusting my body to a comforting position beside him, I leaned over and soothingly hushed him. Draping my arm over his chest, I could feel how rapidly his heart was racing. Tears pricked my eyes as I wondered what he was dreaming about. With Kellan, it could be any number of horrible things.

Leaning my head against him, I kissed his shoulder. “Wake up, baby, it’s just a dream.”

He started saying, “No,” then, “Please.” His face cringed away from me. His legs drew up to reflexively curl into a ball. Kissing his shoulder again, I lightly shook him. “Kellan, wake up.” Taking quick, shallow inhales, his body trembled under my fingers.

Just as I considered turning on his lamp to wake him up, he gasped and his eyes flew open. Immediately propping himself up onto his elbows, he shied away from my embrace. Looking around with wide eyes, he seemed lost, like he didn’t know where he was. With his breath still quick and his body still quivering, he swallowed over and over.

I reached out and cupped his cheek, forcing his gaze to mine. His confused eyes narrowed. “Kiera?”

I nodded, scooting closer to him. “Yeah, it’s me. You’re okay. It was just a dream, Kellan.”

His rigid posture slumped back and he closed his eyes and hung his head. “Just a dream,” he muttered. My heart cracked a little watching his face. Kellan’s bad dreams weren’t really just dreams. They were more like memories. I wasn’t sure which bad memory Kellan had been reliving, but I knew it had terrified him.

48



Inhaling slowly, he took a couple of deep breaths. When he was calmer, he peeked back up at me. Running a trembling hand across his mouth, he shook his head. “I’m sorry if I woke you up.” Swallowing the emotion in my throat, I flung my arms around him and crushed my bare body to his. His arms loosely came around me and I could still feel his heart surging as adrenaline coursed through him.

“It’s okay.” Kissing his cheek, I gave him a few moments to collect himself. When he settled back down to the pillows, his fingers rubbing the bridge of his nose like he had a headache, I propped myself up on his chest. “You want to talk about it?”

Bringing my hands up to his temples, I pressed my thumbs into the soft spots, taking over his headache reducing massage. He closed his eyes and relaxed into my touch. “I was back at home and my dad…” he stopped and swallowed, “it was nothing…just a dream.” I bit my lip to stop my sigh. His past was just something he didn’t like to talk about. In fact, I was pretty sure I was the only human on earth that he’d ever confessed his history to. While Evan was aware that he’d been beaten badly, since Kellan had drunkenly spilled the beans once, and Denny knew about the abuse, having witnessed it himself, Kellan had never told them that his father wasn’t his father. No one else knew that his mother had had an affair on her husband and gotten pregnant by another man. Then that horrible woman had claimed that she’d been raped. Because of the lie, or maybe because of the truth, the man who’d raised Kellan had been brutal with him…and his mother had done nothing to stop it.

I hated them both.

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?” I whispered, kissing his jaw.

He stirred, inhaling deep. Opening his eyes, he gently pushed me off of him and rolled me to my side. Pressing his body into mine, his no longer shaking, he cupped my cheek and tilted my head up. Attaching his warm lips to my neck, he murmured, “Yes, I’m done with talking.” 49



My heart picked up its pace as his hand left my cheek to run down my side. I knew he was diverting his mind with my body. I knew it, yet I couldn’t seem to stop him from doing it. He pushed me to my back, leaning over me as his lips worked their way down my throat. My fingers automatically locked into that marvelous hair as every section of skin that he touched on me suddenly burned.

My breath was embarrassingly fast as his hand rubbed a circle into my hip. He was purposely avoiding every spot I most wanted him to touch and it was driving me crazy, shutting my mind off. I shoved his head down a smidge when he kissed along the top of my breast and he chuckled before conceding. All thought of his earlier grief was gone from both of us as his mouth closed around a nipple, his tongue drawing a circle around the peak. Aching, I cried out and rocked my hips towards him.

A deep sound of satisfaction rising up his throat, he seemed just as pleased being the one giving the pleasure as I was receiving it. As his teeth lightly dragged across my tender flesh, his finger, equally as light, ran right between my legs. I was already ready for him; I think I was in a constant state of semi-arousal just being near him. I arched my back and ran my hands over my face and through my hair.