Killian (Hope City #8) - Kris Michaels Page 0,83

of three condos that he’d joined together. The result was forty-five hundred square feet of hand-crafted cabinets, flooring, and staircases. He’d done the work himself and the love he had for his effort shone through the intricate details and flawless craftsmanship. The home was breathtaking. It was hard to remember she lived here now, too. There had been many changes in the last four months.

She grabbed two of her canvas totes filled with groceries and started up the walk. Killian, barefoot and—judging by his wet head—just out of the shower, jogged out the door to greet her. “Is that it?” He reached down to grab the bags from her, stooping to kiss her as he lifted the weighty load from her.

“Yes. You’re home early. It is too cold to be out here without shoes!” He fell into step with her as they headed inside.

“I’m not staying outside. Garret is on top of things with the build, the new office manager is working with Ryker to bring him up to speed now that he’s put in his retirement paperwork, and I didn’t want to miss saying goodbye to Thor and Oden.” He nodded to the two Irish wolfhounds sitting at the door. Duke, who weighed over a hundred pounds, seemed like a small pup as he sat patiently beside the two massive animals, waiting for his humans to come back inside.

“Blay’s back from his vacation early?” She twisted to look up at Killian.

“Called me this morning and told me he’d be here tonight about eight. He didn’t call you?” Killian entered first, holding the bags at shoulder level to avoid dog noses. Bekki shut the front door and took off her coat, hanging it on the hall tree before she took time to love on each of the dogs.

“No.” Which was strange. But Blay had been acting strangely lately. She needed to get to the bottom of the ‘why’ of that situation. She’d get with her mom and… oh, right… “Speaking of Mom, she wanted to know if we are having Thanksgiving Dinner with them or with your father.”

Killian stopped and cocked his head in her direction. “Bekki, were we talking about your mom?”

Damn it. She’d done it again. “No, but you were talking about Blay and he was acting weird and I need to talk to Mom to find out why and that led me to the comment about Thanksgiving.” Giving Killian her thought processes when she’d jumped from topic to topic was second nature now.

“Okay. That one I can follow. What time does your family usually eat?”

“Half-time of the first football game.” She hated that tradition, but with so many men who adored the sport, it was inevitable.

“My father’s invitation is for seven at night. What if we do both?” Killian walked up behind her and wrapped her in his arms.

She leaned her head to the right as his lips found her neck. “Both sounds perfect.”

“Do you know what else sounds perfect? You.” Killian’s rough fingertips found their way under her blouse. The light touch over her skin always sent shivers of anticipation across her skin, like the small rumbles of an earthquake before the major shift hit and rocked her world. She hummed some kind of affirmative response as his finger lifted the lace of her bra and teased her nipple. Duke’s nose burrowed between them.

“We need to take this elsewhere. No dogs invited.” Killian released and turned her. He bent down and swooped her off her feet. The trip to the office took less than fifteen seconds. He shut the door, leaving the excited dogs outside, and dropped her to her feet. “Have I told you how much I love those high heels?” He palmed her ass and lifted her pencil skirt up, exposing her thighs. His fingertips brushed the lace bands of her hose at the top of her thighs. “Fuck, babe. You drive me crazy.”

She stepped back and unhooked her skirt, shimmying out of the fabric before she slowly unbuttoned the silky button-down and let that fall to the ground. She’d worn the bra and thong that matched the hose. Collecting beautiful lingerie was one of her many ‘princess’ traits that Killian loved and encouraged. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his neck. “You like?”

His eyes held hers with a depth of emotion she’d never take for granted. “No. I love everything about you. Everything.” He dropped his lips to hers and the kiss seemed to detonate a hurried, desperate need in both