Thin Love (Thin Love, #1)(102)

Keira felt full, sated in the heavy pant of Kona’s breath, in the groans of pleasures that passed over his mouth as he sank in deeper. He planted kisses on her neck, over her face and Keira felt worshipped, wanted, cherished. With ever pull against her body, every slick swipe of his thumb on her clit, Keira’s heart pounded and she clamped around Kona inside her, loving the shudder of his shoulders and his grip on her hair.

“Wildcat, you’re so f*cking wet tonight. I… I’ll never get tired of how good you feel.” He growled once, liking how she let him lead, how Keira relaxed against him so he could drive in deep into her.

Just his praise, those softly grunted words had Keira arching, had Kona’s hips working faster, quicker and she let go and came around him, the orgasm extending, lingering because Kona knew how to touch her, knew what she needed.

She felt so swollen, so full and missed the warmth of his body when Kona jerked out of her and spilled himself moments later onto the towel.

She barely registered Kona moving around the room, tossing the dirty towel into the hamper, tucking himself back into his jeans. Then Kona pulled on her clothes, kissing up her legs, onto her thighs as he shimmed her jeans back over her body. Each kiss was a tribute and Keira slipped her fingers into his hair, over his shoulders as he stood up.

“I love you,” she said, feeling drunk, so high on her man.

His smile was slight, certain and Kona kissed her nose, took her face between his hands. “I love you too, Wildcat.” The easy grin fell when Keira tried to stand, when that dizzy wobble in her head had her feeling fuzzy. Kona grunted, eyes narrowed and stern. “I told you, you’re relapsing.”

“Totally worth it.”

“You need some more meds.” He led her to her bed, pulling back the duvet. “Call tomorrow and get an appointment. I’ll take you in.” She opened her mouth, meant to argue with him, but Kona’s kiss erased whatever protest she might have from her mind. She loved his tongue, how wide it was, how forcefully he moved it into her mouth; it was a drugging distraction that Kona often used. His cell rang and Kona sat up, took that glorious taste from her mouth when he answered the call.

“Yeah? What?” He glanced at Keira and she hated that frown, hated how he turned away from her and rubbed his fingers in his eyes. “Tonight? I’m not in the city right now.” A quick squint at Keira’s clock and Kona’s shoulders lowered. “Give me an hour. I told you I’m not in the city right now, shit. Fine.”

Keira sat up, ignored Kona’s low grunt as she left the bed to join him in front of the French doors. “That was Ricky, wasn’t it?”

“Baby,” he said, kissing her forehead once, “I told you, one last job.”

“Right now? Kona, it’s almost midnight.”

Keira didn’t like this; she didn’t like Kona’s stupid belief that he owed Ricky anything. Ricky, who he’d told her trapped him into selling steroids. Ricky who Kona said needed him for muscle.

“He moved up the drop off date because someone was trying to gank his shipment.” He moved around the room, grabbing his wallet and keys from her bedside table and Keira watched him, a small buzz of worry twisting her stomach.

“And you’re going into the middle of that?” She pulled on his arm, twisting him around to face her. “Are you crazy?” He had to know something was off. He had to know he was walking into something that had Keira’s hands shaking and the bile inching up her throat.

“Keira, this is the last time. I told you that.” Keira’s go-to reaction was always anger, especially when she was scared and right then, fright and worry overtook her, had her frowning at Kona, had her pulling away from him when he touched her. She saw the frustration on his face, that slow pull of his features that told her he wavered about what he should do. “Please don’t get mad at me.” Again, he pulled on her arms, hugging her to his chest and some of her worry eased. “Come on, get in bed and sleep. You need to rest up.” She was tired, still a bit woozy from the returning flu and the quickie against the door and she let Kona put her to bed, let him lean over her with his large arms around her waist and those tempting lips against her mouth. “I’ll call you in the morning, okay?”

She pushed him back. “Kona, no…”

“What the hell do you want from me?” She knew Kona wasn’t angry at her. He’d often been snippy, on edge since he stopped taking steroids. It was a struggle, an effort he’d told Keira that he fought every day. He’d replace that poison with her, wanting her, needing her like a drug. This anger wasn’t about her, not really. She could always tell the difference between his tempers. It was the situation, his wanting to give in to her argument that he ignore Ricky’s direction and some mild fear about the potential for something dangerous developing. Still, Kona being Kona meant that he lashed out, just like Keira, at whomever was closest. “I’m trying to cut this shit loose but I have to do this. One last time, I promise you.”

“Not by yourself.” Keira kicked off the covers, tugged Kona’s hand away from the French door handle when he tried to open it. “Call Luka. Please, Kona, don’t do this by yourself.”

“I’ll be fine,” he said, pulling his hand off the handle when she tried to stop him. “Me on North Rampart is nothing and any *s that are there will think I’m the monster hiding in the shadows.”