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“You think I’m sick?”
“No,” Arien squeaked. She shook her head, fingernails denting the skin of his broad shoulders.
“Why do I love hurtin’ you?”
She stilled, and raising her head, Arien looked into dark, pain-filled eyes. “You do?”
“Yeah, I do.”
With no other warning than that, Kellan impaled her and she screamed.
“That’s what I was lookin’ for.”
The sound of her own heart beating whirred in her ears, the whole of her flesh pulsing thick, and heavy, and slow. What was happening to her? Surely, he’d split her in two and she was dying.
He moved then. Lifting his hips from the chair, he groaned, driving into her over and over and over.
All she could do was hold on for the ride.
At least it didn’t hurt so much anymore, the throbbing fullness in her backside beginning to feel oddly pleasant.
Kellan worked himself into a sweat fucking her. Then yanking her head back by her hair, his teeth at her neck, he let out a growl. He pulled her forward, his lips claiming hers, and breathless, he kissed her. “I could never, ever hurt you as much as lovin’ you hurts me.”
What the…?
Tanner came out of the shower, a towel low around his hips.
Kellan eased her off his lap, and he stood, pulling up his jeans. He glanced at her, his lips parting as if he wanted to say something, then perhaps thinking better of it, closed them again. And he left.
It was already getting dark when Matthew and the baby returned home from their trip to Jackson with Grams. Arien and her boys were watching a movie, nibbling on chips and roast beef sandwiches. Well, Kellan and Tanner were watching. She’d just been pretending to.
Something was going on with him, and it sure as hell wasn’t a hangover. Even Tanner seemed to notice. She hadn’t seen him in a funk like this in a long time…well, not since their brother was born.
Poor little guy was tuckered out.
Her stepfather was loaded down with bags in one arm and a sleeping baby in the other. Arien got up from the sofa to help him. “Here, I’ll take Benjamin and put him to bed.”
“It’s okay, darlin’, I got it,” he said, letting the bags drop to the floor.
“No, I can—”
“Dad said he’s got it. Sit down, Arien.” Kellan tugged her back beside him and he patted her knee. “We’re watchin’ a movie here.”
As soon as Matthew went up the stairs, Kellan turned his head her way. “You are not that baby’s mama. Let the man be a father to his son. If you want a baby to take care of so bad, me and Tanner’ll give you one.”
“Asshole.”
He snickered. “Yeah, but I’m your asshole now, ain’t I?”
“Kellan…” Tanner started. Arien didn’t stick around to hear what he had to say. She rose from the sofa, and turning on her heel, ran fast up the stairs.
Kellan made it so obvious—the something going on with him, was her.
The smell of fresh paint lingered. Curled up in a chair, she wracked her brain. They’d only been married a day, for fuck’s sake. What could she have done to upset him?
She had put on Miss Lilly’s diaphanous gown that she got felt up for “to get the placement of the appliqués just right”—didn’t she? She walked down that aisle alone, everyone’s eyes on her, shaking in her new white boots, without a clue what was coming.
It was like that movie on her birthday, The Invitation, except she was the offering.
