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He leaned back, resting his head on the back of the sofa, one hand behind his head, and stared off into the night’s twinkling sky. “However many that is… How will we know it’s the end?”
“We will. We’ll know.” She turned to the side facing him and pulled her legs up under her resting her head on hand with a propped elbow on the back of the sofa. “I’m sorry, Killion.”
He whipped his head in her direction. “Why are you sorry?”
“Because I did this. I brought Lindstrom and his crew right to you. While he was hunting for me –– before and now –– he found you. You’re the bigger prize.”
“None of that matters, Rainy. We can’t know that. For all we know, he had his sights on us for different reasons, and our paths happened to cross, making it easier for him.” Killion went on, trying to ease her guilt without releasing his own. “The number of related cases and how perfectly orchestrated it’s all been for years… Our identities were bound to get out.”
She shook her head, refusing his easy out. “But if I hadn’t pursued you before…”
“Whoever is behind all this used Lindstrom and they’re still using his people. Knowing how to use them that way tells me this enemy has been studying us for quite a while.”
“We’ll probably never fully know.” She sighed. “Sometimes I wish I’d just stayed away to begin with –– or never came back.”
In an intimate moment, Killion stroked the side of her face and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “We wouldn’t have Meyer and Jolie if you stayed away.”
“They’re the reason I came back.” She sniffed. “The reason I fought back. I couldn’t keep your children from you and certainly wasn’t about to raise them without you…”
Rainy paused, looking anywhere but at Killion. “I grew up without a father in the picture and may as well have not had a mother. I wanted more for them.”
Rainy was referring to the rough and traumatic upbringing of her and her brothers, Wit and Hen. They’d grown up with the explanation that their father was a war hero who died in battle. Meanwhile, their heartbroken mother spiraled, finding solace in drugs, which then led to even more heinous things. The children were severely neglected as their mother’s addiction was beyond crippling, and it invited in the worst kind of riffraff that led to the kind of abuse a child could experience. When their mother died, the children were separated and washed away from one another in an equally flawed system that allowed Rainy to inevitably land in one of the country's largest trafficking rings at a very young age, and her handler was none other than the ringleader, Omar Lindstrom.
“I’m so glad you came back,” Killion said, running his hands through her hair. “I looked for you. I looked everywhere. Hell, probably qualified as stalking. I missed you, Rainy. Having you back… and the twins…”
He couldn’t finish his thought. Sharing his feelings was overwhelming and foreign; he was suddenly pouring his heart out, but it was too much to consider or reconcile. She made him want to, though.
“I’m sorry, Killion,” she whispered, emotion flooding her words. “I wish it could have been different. I wish it could have been… simpler. But I’m not sorry for how I feel about you or where it led us. I—”
“I know.” He cut her off, pulling her onto his lap. “I know…”
Killion ran his hand through her hair and looked at her. His eyes searched her expression for the words he wanted to share. Needed to share. His gaze roamed her body, and his hand trailed right behind, remembering every peak and every valley, the softness of her skin, her silky hair. Words weren’t hard for him. He had something to say about just about everything… except her. He couldn’t put Rainy or how he felt about her into words.
There was this insane feeling consuming him, and it grew stronger and stronger, and though it often confused him, he welcomed it because whatever it was… it came with her. It was an emotional pull, which was why he struggled to put it into words. Emotions were complicated for him, and he only recognized them because others told him it was what ever-growing, everlasting sense that filled him… when she was around. It was also what left a thorny ache in his chest when she wasn’t around.
How does one share that with another when they can’t explain it themselves? How did he tell Rainy –– describe to her –– what was coursing through his veins and flooding his mind? If you’re Killion O’Reilly, you don’t… you just show her.
Killion took her mouth. Soft at first like he was feeling her out, making sure he was reading the moment correctly –– reading it as intimate. When she kissed him back with more intensity, he knew he’d reacted the right way and maybe she felt the same way he did. With his mouth on hers, his hands continued to retrace long-lost fiery steps and get reacquainted with her body as their kiss intensified and her body moved against his with every burning touch. Rainy swung her leg over him to straddle him, making their connection more intimate and sensual as began to grind against him, returning the pleasure he was surely giving her.
His soft, slow burning touch became more intense and gripping as he dragged his hands down to cup her ass and help her move against him. Her chest was pressed against his as she sought the friction their movement caused, tantalizing her breasts.
Killion pulled away and gently sat her back on the sofa at his side as he attempted to catch his breath.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“I… I don’t understand,” she muttered in confusion. “Did I say something? Do something?”
“No,” he reassured. “It isn’t you. I should have known better and not let my feelings get… carried away.”
“Killion, I don’t understand.”
“I don’t want to hurt you. I never want to be a source of pain for you,” he admitted.
Awareness came over her, and she nodded, realizing he was referring to her past. “So I’m different now? Now that you know what happened to me all those years ago?”
“No,” he countered. “I mean, yes. It’s complicated.”
“It wasn’t complicated before, Killion. We had quite the physical relationship. Hell, got two babies out of it.”
