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After we watch her leave, I turn back to Clay. “I—”
“Not a word,” he says.
“What could I possibly say right now? That you conceded, or that you value sex more than winning a fight? Oh, the possibilities,” I sass.
“If I didn’t have a staff meeting with Nixie”—he looks at his watch—“ten minutes more and your ass would have been mine. But when I get home, it’s game on.”
“Promises, promises,” I tease.
He shakes his head and grabs my jaw, leans in, and presses a kiss on my lips, then releases me and walks away.
I think my knees buckle a little as Ares moves beside me, and he jokingly wipes the imaginary drool from my lip. I slap his hand away, but he just laughs.
Chapter Sixteen
Ares
Clay has been gone for thirty seconds when Kayla turns to me. “I need to go to my loft. Not to stay—I’m moving out completely. I spoke to Mabel a few days ago, and she would like someone who is around more, as she enjoys the company.”
“I can help with that, but we’ll need to get Brawley’s keys. I don’t know if you should push your luck with Clay right now.”
She snorts. “I was also thinking, maybe we could have some alone time.”
“In the loft?”
She nods. “On every surface,” she adds with a wink.
I take her hand and we race off to find Brawley, locating him in his ring, sparring with Vesper. Vero is commentating. “Duck . . . ohh, too slow. That’s okay, faces are overrated, I will love you no matter what. Oh look, my paper-cut princess is here.”
“We just need Brawley’s keys to do a run into town.” Vero reaches into his pocket and throws me the keys. “Thanks, we will be back in a bit.”
“Bye, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Actually, I would do anything, so keep her safe, and don’t do anything I would do—it’s not safe.”
Kayla laughs. “He is back to his normal self.”
“He sure is.”
We go to the bar and grab some empty boxes, then stack them in Brawley’s truck. Kayla changes the radio station and messes around with a few settings. If this were Clay’s truck, it would be funny to bait him, but Brawley is used to Vero, who touches everything.
Kayla sings off-key the entire drive. She keeps the window down and the wind blows in her hair. By the time we get to her loft, her smile is so wide, you wouldn’t even guess this is a big moment for her.
Mabel isn’t here, which disappoints Kayla, but we climb the stairs to the loft, and she stops to look around.
“Okay, let’s get you all packed up. What in here is yours?” I ask her.
“Just anything personal, all the furniture was here when I moved in.”
We work together to pack all of her things—the bathroom items, a few small pictures, and candles. We are clearing out the last of the drawers beside her bed when she pulls out a single photo of her and Aaron. In it she looks really young.
“I can’t believe I thought I loved this man.” She tears the photo into a few pieces while walking it over to the trash can where we emptied her fridge. “It’s strange . . . I spent so long making sure I had a place that was mine, but now I’m here and I just want to go home.”
“We have one last thing to do,” I say, and she smiles.
I move toward her and lift her up onto the counter. Leaning in, I kiss along her throat, and she pulls at my shirt and whispers, “Off.”
I step back and pull my shirt over my head, and she leans forward to flick open my jeans, working them down until my cock is free. She lightly brushes the tip with her fingers, teasing me and drawing out a groan. Fuck this. I step back in closer and pull the oversized hoodie off her body, along with her shirt, and make quick work of her jeans and panties until she is naked.
I pull her to the edge of the counter and take both her wrists in one hand, pinning them behind her back. The position arches her toward me, so her chest presses against mine, and I’m able to feel every breath she takes. I don’t waste any time, stepping forward and using my free hand to guide myself into her. She takes me all the way in on a sharp inhale, her body tensing for a second, then she rolls her hips greedily, wordlessly asking for more before she has time to adjust.
