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He sat up. “Stay. I’ll order us food. Thai good?”
I nodded. “I love Thai.” I was still thinking about the BDSM club he’d gone to and the fact that he’d avoided answering my question.
He was completely unabashed as he slid from bed naked and walked across the room. I watched his tight ass as he went to the washroom. He flicked on the light and only half closed the door.
He was such a contradiction. Completely open with his body, direct, honest, but much of him was hidden and private.
He came back to the bedroom and snagged his jeans off the floor to take his phone out of the pocket.
“Killian?”
He lowered the phone and like he always did, he gave me his full attention. “Mmm?”
“Are you really okay with dating? I mean for real.”
The corners of his lips curved up. “Savvy, we’re way past the dating stage.”
I frowned. “How do you figure? Technically, this is only our second date. What stage are you referring to?” I asked.
He knelt on the bed and hooked the back of my neck, urging me closer to him. His lips an inch away from mine, he drawled, “The stage where there’s no escape.”
He kissed me, and I melted. God, this man could ruin me. He’d already ruined me for all other kisses when I was fifteen. But now… he could end this, and there’d be no one else for me. No one I’d want more than him. No one who could even come close.
And that was terrifying.
“I need to feed you,” he said and climbed off the bed. He then walked into the kitchen as he called the Thai restaurant.
I leaned up against the headboard, holding the gray sheet to my chest as I peered around his place. I hadn’t had the chance to before and I was a little shocked at the emptiness of it.
The living room, if you could call it that, consisted of an L-shaped, charcoal gray couch facing a big screen TV on the brick wall, and a metal coffee table.
To the right was the kitchen, with stainless steel appliances, granite countertops, and black cupboards. Simple, uncluttered, and it looked as if he’d just moved in. Except there were no boxes to unpack.
I crawled off the bed, wrapping the sheet around me as I walked toward the kitchen where Killian poured two glasses of wine. The sheet dragged behind me as my bare feet padded over the hardwood.
I realized what was missing. It wasn’t just furniture; it was that there was nothing personal. And I mean nothing. No pictures or artwork. No accessories like throw pillows or statues. The only personal items visible were a set of drums over in the far corner of the warehouse-slash-loft.
The only thing that said anything about who Killian was.
“No time to decorate?” I asked.
“I’ve had time,” he replied.
“Then you have something against furniture?” The two stools at the island, a couch, and a bed didn’t constitute a living space.
He walked over to me on the other side of the island and passed me a glass of red wine. “I’m not particular about where I live, Savvy. It’s not important to me. I like being able to walk away at any time.”
I frowned, my heart pounding. That didn’t sound like someone who wanted a home. A place where you smiled when you drove down the street knowing you were home. A place with memories scattered throughout.
“Walk away where?” I asked.
He took my hand and led me over to the couch. “It’s just four walls that make up a shitload of bills, Savvy.”
No home. That was what he meant. He could walk away because this wasn’t a home. Nothing important was here and why he didn’t bother locking his door.
No attachments.
“Your drums.”
He shrugged. “They’re replaceable. Everything in here is replaceable, except you.” My breath hitched. “Sit.” He held my wine as I sat on the couch. He handed it back, eyes trailing over me. “You’re losing the sheet once the food arrives. I want you naked until you leave here.”
“And when is that?”
“When I let you.” He smirked, but I had a feeling he wasn’t kidding.
The Thai food arrived, and Killian put on a pair of plaid pajama pants to answer the door, and I heard him speaking to the guy, but it wasn’t English.
And holy shit it was hot as hell listening to him.
“You speak another language?” I asked as he set out the containers on the coffee table.
“A few words here and there.”
“Of Thai?”
“Mmm. I love Thai food. Savvy, lose the sheet.”
I released the luxurious material and it pooled at my waist. He eyed me for a second because the sheet still covered my lower half, then he turned and finished opening the containers.
Picking up the controller he turned on the TV, scrolled to Netflix, then passed it to me. “Whatever you want, orchid.”
