Razed (Barnes Brothers #2)(94)
She might even set up a couple of funds in her mother’s name—having Paul handle everything, of course. And if there were cards or letters that came in, he could forward them on to her darling mother.
The thought made her smile as she lugged her suitcase out. The smile turned sardonic as she tried to figure out how to get the suitcase into the Bug, though. It wasn’t going to fit all that well. Zane’s smaller suitcase and his camera equipment had been one thing.
This, though?
She managed, after some clever maneuvering.
Then she sat in the car and debated.
Home?
Zane’s?
Flipping the mirror down, she studied her reflection for far too long.
*
The sight of the car sitting in the parking lot of Zach’s old building had Zane’s heart jump up into his throat.
He sat in his Jeep for a long, long moment and then he climbed out, looking up at the soft glow of the lights.
Tugging out his phone, he eyed it. She hadn’t called.
She hadn’t texted or emailed.
But Keelie was home.
He managed, barely, not to rush the place and kept his steps slow and measured as he headed inside. He even managed not to race up the steps. He took the elevator. Nice and cool.
All of that nice, cool calm shattered though when he unlocked the door and found her sitting inside, flipping through a magazine.
Her gaze slid up to his.
His heart stuttered to a stop.
I missed you.
I have something to tell you . . . I’m in love with you . . .
Those words tangled in his throat as he crossed the floor.
She sat up as he lowered himself to sit on the low, square chunk of polished wood that served as a coffee table. Keelie met his eyes, that familiar smile quirking her lips.
“How did you get in here?” he asked.
Yeah. Smooth, man. Real smooth.
She shrugged. “I’ve had a key for ages. Zach? Great guy. A little scattered.” Her grin widened. “He locked himself out about once a month. I have a set of keys. Abby. I think he was going to make up a set for Javi, but never got around to it.”
“Ahhh . . .” He reached, brushed his fingers through the pale strands of her hair. “Blonde. I like it.”
“It’s boring. I haven’t done anything this boring in ages.” She rolled her eyes. “It will work for now. It’s . . . ah . . . well. Pretty much my natural color. They had to bleach all the other color out, but I might keep it this way. Who knows?”
He pushed his fingers into the strands. It was so short now that was all he could do. “There’s nothing boring about you, angel.”
When he tugged her closer, she came.
He didn’t kiss her, just wrapped his arms around her. She made a soft little sound in her throat that hit him square in the chest.
Closing his eyes, he pulled her into his lap until her knees settled on either side of his hips. Now he let himself say some of the words trapped inside. Mouth pressed to her neck, he said, “I missed you. You were gone too long.”
“It was only six days.”
“Too long.”
She lifted her head and lifted a hand, pressed it to his cheek. “Yeah. Too long.” Then she winced. “I’ll have to leave again. The trial. All of that.”
“I’ll go this time.”
“Yes.” She leaned in and pressed her mouth to his. “You’ll go this time.”
She nibbled at his lower lip until he opened for her and the hungry little moan went straight to his dick.
He had a desperate need to get her naked. Once he had her naked, tucked under him, he’d feel a little better, he decided. Well, a lot better, if she was wrapped around him, wet and hot and as close as they could possibly get.
But even as he went to push his hands under her shirt, she slid back, easing off his lap and holding out a hand. “Can we go for a drive? I want to show you something.”
He eyed her hand. It was painful standing up, his cock already a pulsating ache in his jeans. Grimacing, he glanced down and then back up. “I had other plans . . . but for you, anything.”
“Why does it seem like you really mean that?”
He hooked one arm around her waist and tugged her against him. He took her mouth, too hungry and impatient to be gentle, and she was panting when he lifted his head.
“Because I do. I’ve all but been your slave for the past three years, Keelie. You just never noticed.”
*
Her hands were slick on the steering wheel as she drove.
Did he really think she could concentrate now?
Really?
I’ve all but been your slave . . .
With her heart rabbiting in her chest, it felt like she was breathing in syrup, the air thick, heavy. And full of him.
Her VW Bug was too small for him. She’d already started trying to figure out what kind of car she wanted to get—the Bug had been yet one more way to live a life as far apart from the one her mother had lived as possible and she was done with that, but now, with his large body taking up all the space, she had to wonder.
Cramped as it was, driving in this car with him was actually . . . nice.
He grunted as his knee banged the dash and she bit back a smile.
Maybe not for him.
“Where are we going?” he asked after a few more minutes.