Barely Breathing(21)

His dark eyes were steely now, his voice edged with bitterness. This was a bad subject.

“How many tattoos do you have?” I asked, reaching for another piece of bread.

A smile touched his lips as he considered. “Five.”

“Is there a story behind all of them?”

“Well, yeah. I’ll tell you the stories when you see ‘em.” His grin held interest and mischief. Seeing this side of him made my stomach flutter nervously.

“Where are the ones I can’t see?”

“My back and chest. One on my lower hip.”

I sucked in a breath as I thought about him unfastening his worn jeans and lowering them enough for me to see that hip tattoo. And more.

“So the one I can see . . .” I pointed at his arm, which had ink swirling from beneath the sleeve of his black t-shirt down to his elbow. “Tell me about that one.”

His cheeks darkened slightly and he smiled. “That one’s nothin’ to be proud of. I was in my early twenties and was wasted one night. A couple of my buddies and I went into a place and told the guy we wanted some ink. I passed out not long after he started.”

I couldn’t help the single note of laughter that escaped my lips. “Did you remember it the next day?”

“Vaguely. I have no memory of picking the design out. I think the guy at the shop had my back on that, ‘cause it could’ve gone really f*ckin’ bad.”

I held his gaze for a few seconds as a warm, heady sensation washed over me. When I was with Kane, I felt a kind of magic I’d never experienced. Seeing his lighter, almost playful side made me feel special to him. And I couldn’t get enough of that feeling.

“Are you coming in tonight? Back at my place?” I asked hopefully.

He smiled. “You want me to?”

“Yes.”

Our server approached and set down a huge round metal pan of pizza between us. Our eyes stayed locked on each other until she was gone.

“We could always eat this in the car on the way,” he said.

“I like that idea.”

He gestured to our server.

“Everything okay?” she asked, her brow furrowed as she surveyed the uneaten pizza.

“It’s great,” Kane said, his eyes still on mine. “Just a carryout box and our check, please.”

The box of pizza sat unopened on the seat between us as Len drove us back to my place. I felt its warmth beneath my hand as Kane traced my knuckles with his large fingertips.

He grunted a quick goodbye to Len as we got out of the car at my place.

“Goodnight, Len,” I said. He smiled and offered me a thumbs up.

We’d barely gotten through the door when I dropped my purse on a table and turned to Kane. He set the pizza box next to my purse and reached out toward my cheek, cupping it in his palm.

When he bent his face to mine and kissed me softly, I wrapped my arms around his neck, melting against his solid chest. His fingertips edged up the bottom of my shirt, skimming across my bare skin. I inhaled sharply and eased him toward the couch.

He got the message, bending and picking me up effortlessly. His big palms squeezed my bottom as he carried me to the couch and set me down. I laid back, moaning softly as he leaned over me and then covered my body with his, his lips returning to mine for a deeper, more insistent kiss.

“Viv,” he said in a low tone against my mouth. “You make it really f*cking hard to be a gentleman.”

I arched my back and wrapped a leg around his hip, humming a moan against his lips. “You were a gentleman last time. That’s good enough.”

He buried his face in my neck, the soft scruff of his beard brushing over my skin sending a shiver through me. It never seemed to stop; the touch of his lips and tongue to my neck sent fresh shivers down my spine. There was another one when he squeezed my ass and I felt his thick erection pressing against my core.

I pulled his shirt loose from his pants in the back and slid my palm beneath it, needing to feel his warm skin and taut muscles. He stiffened and pulled back, looking down at me with a mix of arousal and confusion.

“Fuck.”

“What’s wrong?”

He ran a hand over his short black hair and sat on the edge of the couch, shoulders slumped.

Still breathing hard, I put my fingertips on my lips, feeling the tingle of his rough kiss and the smooth scratch of his beard. Silence hung thick in the air until finally, he spoke.

“You don’t want me, Viv. I’m not a good guy.”

I wrapped my arms around myself. “I do, though. I thought we both wanted it.”

He turned his dark gaze on me. “Hell yeah I want it. What man doesn’t want to make a good girl be bad?”

“So, then?”

Shaking his head, he turned away. “It’s not right. You’re a good person, Viv. You’re the kind of person who helps people up when they’re down. I’m the guy who kicks ‘em in the first place.”

“No, you’re not.”

“You don’t know me,” he said sharply. “A couple dates isn’t enough to see what kind of person I am. Don’t be so na?ve.”

I drew back slightly at his harsh words. “You’re the kind of person who saved me from being raped.”

“That’s what this is about, isn’t it?” He sprang to his feet. “You think I’m some sort of white f*ckin’ knight, when really I’m just a guy who doesn’t allow shit at his club.”