Page 71 of Kane

How many women has he brought here?

She blinked away the mental images assaulting her brain.

“I’m, uh, going to go get changed.” Kane stood next to a tall dresser, clothes in hand. “Help yourself to anything in the top drawer if you want to get more comfortable.” He disappeared into the adjoining bathroom and shut the door.

Part of her wanted to dig through every one of his drawers, look under his bed and inside the closet. She wanted proof he wasn’t too good to be true, proof she wasn’t a fool to trust him, but trust didn’t come from proof. So, she opened only the drawer he offered and pulled out a gray t-shirt and a pair of black boxers. Quickly, she stripped down to her panties and donned his clothes. They smelled like him.

So do his sheets,she noted as she climbed in his bed. Did he still prefer sleeping on the left side? Unsure, she situated herself in the middle. It was still early evening, but her body was wrecked.

Minutes later, Kane returned, wearing some sweatpants cut off at the knee and a thick white-T. The black and red ink of the tattoos on his arms contrasted sharply against the fabric. She couldn’t take her eyes off them as he climbed into her right and leaned back against the pillows on the headboard.

Her fingers traced over the various devils and angels in the design. Each one was slightly different from the next, but they were all women, either with wings or a pitchfork and horns. The other arm featured a collage of skulls. “Tell me about them,” she whispered.

He scooted down so she could rest her head on his chest. “The tats?” His chest shook a little as he chuckled. “I wish I had some deep meaning behind them I could share, but I don’t. They aren’t based on any real people or anything. The angels and the devils, I guess, they—women can be either. Or both. Or neither. Obviously, my feelings about the opposite sex are complicated.”

He paused. “No, actually. My feelings aboutyouhave been complicated. I didn’t really have feelings about any of the others. They were just…there. Shitty of me, I know, but I never lied to them. I never pretended there could be any kind of future for us. I was too dead inside, you know? I was always looking for something to make me feel alive.”

His palm smoothed over her hair. “I got the first devil a year after we broke up. I got a new one every year. Every October twenty-fifth for twelve years after, some remembered the good times, some didn’t.”

“They’re all about me?” she croaked.

“No. Well, not really. More about how I felt about relationships and women at first. Later, I guess, it got to be a tradition. And the skulls, they’re obviously about the club. I got those whenever I got the urge to go back under the needle. Like what I was saying before, I was looking for ways to feel alive. The sting did it. So did my brothers.”

She itched to stop him there. She didn’t want to talk about the club or hear about it. What if it was the one thing ultimately destined to keep them apart? Once they put all their cards on the table, this fantasy of a happy ever after between them would be ruined. Maybe she needed a boot in the ass, though, a swift kick of reality.

Kane kept talking, oblivious to her internal battle. “I know we’re both tiptoeing around the club thing, and I guess I’m a bastard for bringing it up now, but we need to face reality. Okay?”

She squeezed her eyes closed and nodded against his hard chest.

“My feelings about the club are complicated. All the shit I hated about the culture before, I still hate. The thing is, I’m probably a big fucking hypocrite because I haven’t treated women a whole lot better since I patched in, but it’s different with you. I have never and will never treat you the way the club treats the old ladies.”

He pulled back to look at her face. “If it was only about my dad, I would walk away without ever looking back, but some of the other guys, like Cue Ball and Frank, they’re what family is supposed to be. They’re more than friends to me; they’re my brothers, Mandy. They picked me up every time I fell down. Scott too. They would lay down their lives for me. What kind of brother—what kind of person—would I be if I pushed them aside the minute you came back into my life?”

She didn’t even try to answer. A thousand words wouldn’t have been enough to hash it all out, and it hurt like hell to try to say any at all. She shook her head and touched her throat with a frown.

“I know.” He hugged her to him again. “The sad thing is, even if you could talk, I don’t have all the answers. There are days I want out, and it doesn’t even have anything to do with you. Sometimes, I just want to get away from all the stupid fucking choices they’re making, because I can see they’re headed for a disaster, and they won’t listen. I keep thinking I can save them, but every time I try, it’s like I’m beating my head against the wall.”

Two truths shone like beacons in her head. One, Kane wanted out of the club, and two, the only way their relationship could survive was if he made the decision to leave on his own. The way he was talking, it might actually happen. She tipped her head to kiss the spot on his chest above his heart, then burrowed into his warmth.

“Let’s get some sleep.” He flipped the switch above his nightstand, casting the room in darkness.

There would be plenty of time to talk tomorrow. She relaxed into his arms, and for the first time she allowed herself a glimmer of hope. Maybe this time they’d get the happy ending they were long overdue.

***

Amanda woke up with a radiating heat against her back and a rock-hard dick nestled against her ass. She squirmed against the iron grip locking her in a man’s arms. Tattooed arms. Kane.

He groaned, his breath hot on her neck, and his hand moved to cup her breast. The touch sent a zing of awareness between her legs.

How many times had they made love this way? Him pushing in slowly from behind, his fingers plucking her nipples or strumming her clit. There were nights she dreamed of it, waking with his name on her lips and her own hand beneath her panties.

The reality was so much better, even without the penetration she was already craving. But it didn’t have to stop here. She covered his hand with hers and dragged it down to where she wanted to feel him most.

Kane didn’t disappoint. His fingers slid beneath the silky fabric of her panties, over her mound, to the slick slit beneath. His middle finger parted her folds. “Fuck. You’re so wet.”

She tilted her hips toward his hand. “It’s what you do to me.” She moaned as he slid his finger inside her. “It’s what you’ve always done to me.”

The pressure against her ass intensified with his answering thrust. “Feel what you do to me.”