caring about myself at that time. And you made me feel good. The way you looked at me. The way you touched me. Gavin never looked at me like that, but I was trapped. He accused me of trying to trap him when he had pinned me down for years.”
It was my turn to stare out toward the darkened yard. The sun had set, and the solar lights Kyle had placed around the patio were glowing softly. There was a hush around us as if we were in our own bubble. I was terrified that by giving Kyle all of my secrets, he would hate me for them. I wouldn’t blame him if he did.
“I hate the choices I’ve made, but I’m trying to make better ones now. Starting with buying Mom’s house and by helping you with Katie. I want to do better for the people that matter in my life. I want to make it up to you. For being so horrible to you because I hated myself.”
I didn’t realize I was crying until I felt Kyle’s hands on my face, his thumbs wiping away the wetness. I turned to him, his palms cradling me, and I was astonished by what I saw there. He looked at me, not in disgust, but with something like wonder.
“I’m sorry, Kyle. For being so, so stupid. For not caring enough about myself to care about you. I’m just so sor—”
He cut me off.
By kissing me.
His warm mouth pressed against mine, his hands still holding my face. And I was crying. Tears coated my skin. I could taste their saltiness as he kept kissing me.
Finally, he pulled away, his lips swollen. Then he got to his feet, holding out his hand. I took it, and he pulled me to my feet. He led me into the house, closing the patio door behind us.
Chapter 13
Kyle
Whitney’s story had ripped me open in ways I hadn’t expected. I knew stuff had happened to her in Los Angeles, but I had no idea it would be something like that.
I had shared my secrets, and she had shared hers, and somehow in the middle of all of that, the icy barrier that had encased my heart for years cracked and melted around me.
This woman was amazing. She was saving my life, and I wanted to save hers. And more importantly, I needed her. I needed to erase the years of bullshit that had grown between us. The bad memories. The anger. The pain.
I needed her skin against mine. I needed her mouth. Her hands. I needed her inside and out.
I led her into the living room. She stood in front of me, unsure. I leaned down and kissed her again, sucking her bottom lip into my mouth. Taking her tongue. I ran my hands down her back and cupped her bottom, pulling her up against me where she could feel my already hard and aching cock. She moaned deep and low and then startled as if surprised by her reaction.
I chuckled, nibbling on her lips. “Touch me,” I rasped.
Her hands were tentative at first. She pressed her palms against my chest. She must have been able to feel the frantic pounding of my heart. It was going a million miles a minute. I was worried I’d pass out before anything could happen.
The memories of our first time together threatened to interfere with the moment. I remembered her looking up at me as I pushed inside her. Seeing me, but not quite. And then the way she left me alone afterward, feeling used and unwanted.
No. I wouldn’t go there. This was different. I understood her now.
And it seemed she needed me to take the reins. I unbuttoned my shirt, and she slowly pushed it off my shoulders, letting it fall to the ground at our feet. She placed her lips below the hollow of my throat. I could feel the warm wetness of her tongue as she made her way up toward my lips. Taking her time as she sucked my neck, my chin.
Then we were devouring each other.
I couldn’t kiss her enough. But there were still too many clothes between us. I all but ripped her shirt over her head and clumsily unhooked her bra, tossing it to the other side of the room, not worrying where it landed. It had been a long time since I had taken off a woman’s bra. It seemed I was a bit rusty.