Uppercut Princess (The Heights Crew #1)(75)

This time, I initiate a kiss. His poor, confused soul. I press my lips into him like I’m trying to resuscitate him. I’m trying to infuse his soul. I’m trying to make him feel, not just at the surface, but bone deep. To the depths of his core. In every cell. I don’t know why I just haven’t given up on him yet. The pretty words he’s said are just regurgitation from thinking that’s what he’s supposed to say.

I want to light a fire in him. I want to help him like I want to help Oscar and Brawler. Maybe I see something in him, something that tells me even though he has evil DNA running through his veins, that this isn’t the life for him. He shouldn’t be going to meetings with talk of territories and fighting and murder and death. He should be going to college for crying out loud. It’s obvious he’s smart. You have to be to survive in this business, but his energy is going in the wrong direction.

That’s what I try to say with the press of my lips to his and the sweep of my tongue. He kisses me back with the same passion, but it’s short lived.

He backs away. “I have to go.”

He has to go scheme with his father. He hasn’t heard me at all.

“Yeah,” I say.

“Hey.” He cups my cheek. “Don’t be sad.”

I shake my head. “Just a long day.”

He kisses my forehead, his lips a soft press against skin but nothing more. At least not yet. “Get some rest. Tomorrow you’ll start training.”

He’s right about one thing. I don’t know one guy who would let his girl fight his battles for him if there was anything he could do about it. His words make me think he’s halfway to caring, but on the other hand, I don’t know if he’ll ever get there. If he’ll ever see he can have a better life.

He squeezes my hand. “Brawler should be inside.”

I press my lips together. Fucking wonderful. This day is about to get worse.

Just when I think he’s going to leave, he stays while I open the door, sending a warmth through me. Brawler stands from the recliner, his gaze staring holes straight through me. Johnny presses a hand at my back, ushering me in when the last thing I want to do is confront Brawler. “Bye, babe.”

I don’t answer. I’m too caught up in Brawler’s stare. As soon as Johnny’s footsteps fade away, I shut the door behind me. Everything I want Johnny to feel is seeping out of Brawler. From his every pore, from his eyes, from his chest heaving, he’s telling me he cares. “You aren’t fighting Evan.”

“I don’t have a choice.”

“We all have choices.”

“Then my choice is to stay here.”

I turn, clicking all the locks into place. The heat of Brawler’s gaze makes my movements hurried. It’s amazing how rapid the feelings grew between us. Then again, it’s not all that difficult to understand. When you live a life here, you never know which day will be your last. Brawler knows that more than most.

The two tattoos gracing his neck tell his story, but they also tell a cautionary tale. You don’t even have to be directly involved in shit to become a victim of hate. When you never know what might happen, you find that the world opens up to you. You find beauty in strange things. You find feelings in the tiniest of moments. In that, him and I are the same.

The heat from his body washes over me before his fingertips graze down my arm and back up, circling where he patched me up from the day Johnny slammed me against a wall. His fingers trail down my arm, across my wrist, until they tangle with my fingers.

He kisses my neck, and I drop my head to the side, allowing him space. “I asked for you,” he breathes. “I asked for someone to give me a reprieve from all this fucking pain. You’re the first person to draw me out, to make me stop. You, Kyla.” His soft lips trail to the spot behind my ear, and my body shakes as the sensations roll through me.

He grips my hand before moving them both to my stomach, splaying our fingers there, pushing me back into him until his hard cock presses into my lower back. He takes my cell phone out of my back pocket and tosses it onto the recliner before fitting himself behind me again, making delicious waves of pleasure tighten my core.

“I know I can’t. I know I’m just sentencing myself by even touching you like this, but when you’ve lived in the dark for so long and only one thing brings you out, that’s not the time to go running scared. I don’t care, Kyla. There was never much hope for me anyway, and I’d rather die at your altar than turn away.”

I breathe in a shaky breath, letting my head fall back onto his shoulder. He presses more soft kisses to my skin, making my body come alive under his touch.

He’s right. I came here to the Heights so I could have moments like this after I took my life back. Taking Big Daddy K out means taking control of my life. It means having moments like this, a reprieve from the thoughts that have haunted me.

“I asked you once if I could touch you, if I could kiss you. Please tell me yes.”

My body aches. It can’t hold back anymore. “You’re already kissing me, aren’t you? You’re already touching me.”

His fingers tighten on my stomach. He breathes out, his hot breath teasing my already sensitive skin. “I need to hear you say it.”

Growing some lady balls, I turn in his arms, facing him. I want him to see how much I mean it when the words come out of my mouth. I lift my hand and press my palm into his cheek. His blue eyes light with desire. “I want you to touch me. I want you to kiss me until I can’t breathe anymore and then kiss me again to fill me back up.”