stairs, only to be met with the familiar grunts of Conner.
He’s in the middle of the room, beating the shit out of a punching bag. Sweat glistens over his hard abs and ripped muscles with every punch. Black shorts hang low on his hips, drawing my eyes to that delicious V on either side. God, he’s beautiful.
My beautiful, broken boy.
I sit down on the step and watch him, not alerting him to my presence. He jabs the bag hard, in a quick combination of punches. One two. One two. One one two. He ducks and dodges, staying light on his feet. I’ve forgotten how good he is at this. How natural he makes it look.
I’m so lost in his body moving and twisting, the way the layer of sweat shimmers on his tanned skin, that the bloodcurdling roar he lets out startles me.
Pain hangs in the air. He’s hurting... and it’s all my fault.
“I know you’re there, K.” His head hangs low, refusing to look at me. “I felt you the second you opened the door.”
“You did not.”
“Did too.” He finally turns, giving me his eyes. “You should be asleep.”
“I woke up and you weren’t there.”
“I just needed to burn off some steam.” He gives me a half-shrug.
I get up and approach him. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No, I fucking don’t.”
“Conner, come on... it’s me. I know I should have told you—”
“It wouldn’t have changed anything, K. That’s the shitty thing. I want to be mad at you for not telling me, but it changes nothing. That fucker still...” He swallows the words.
“Tell me what I can do?” Because seeing him like this, lost and afraid and angry, is almost too much to bear.
“There’s nothing, Kennedy. I just have to figure this out on my own.”
Pain lashes my insides. He’s going to shut me out again. Well, fuck that.
And fuck him.
Without warning, I throw my arms around him and kiss him hard.
“What the fu—”
His words are swallowed by my tongue plunging into his mouth. Conner wants to keep me at arm’s length, but I refuse to accept that’s how it has to be.
Even if I have to keep playing dirty to show him.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Conner
Her tongue sweeps into my mouth, and my shock at her move is exactly what she needs to take advantage of the situation. She walks me backward until my back hits the cool mirror behind me.
I know she's trying to understand, but every time I look at her, all I see is disappointment staring back at me. I know that she'd have wanted me to wake her and take my frustrations out on her, but I can't. So instead, I slipped out of bed not long after the sun rose and came to make use of my punching bag instead.
The tension within me dissipated with every punch I landed. My muscles began to relax every time a bolt of pain shot up my arm.
I lost myself in my movement, in the rhythmic thud of skin hitting leather over and over.
Until she turned up.
The second her eyes landed on me, my skin tingled with awareness and it ruined all the good my workout had done.
The tension was back, the fear was back. The images were back.
"K, what are you—"
"Just shut up, Conner. Shut. Up." Her hand presses against my mouth to ensure I do as I'm told.
My chest heaves as we stare at each other, the air between us crackling with tension and explosive chemistry that I'm terrified to give into.
She raises a brow. "You good?"
I nod once, although my real answer is going to depend on what she's planning.
She takes one step back, wraps her fingers around the hem of my shirt that I told her to sleep in last night, and pulls it from her naked body in one smooth move.
"Fuuuuck," I growl, taking in her perfect body. Her tits are round and full, her nipples pink, rosy, pert, and just begging to be sucked on. Her waist is tiny before her hips flare out, perfect to hold onto as I... I shake the thought from my head. I can't go there. I can't lose myself in my imagination or I'll ruin whatever her intentions are.
"Do you know how hot you looked doing that?" She flicks a glance over her shoulder to the punching bag.
A smile curls at her lips when she looks back at me and finds a smirk playing on mine.
"Yeah?" I ask. "Giving you ideas, huh?"
"Too right." She steps up to