Break Me Slowly(19)

I beamed up at him. Somehow, he had picked up on my agitation and offered to remove me from the situation.

“You can’t go,” Tim shot out. “You just got here. Come, I’d like to introduce you to some people, Mr. Kinkade.” Tim’s eyes briefly flashed to me. “Kate, you have Simon?”

I nodded and stole a glance at Adam. His eyes were intense, watching every move I made.

“It’s okay. I’ll be right back,” I whispered, and headed for Simon’s room. There was no doubt that Adam could handle himself just fine. It was the way he looked at me, as if silently asking me if I was all right. The surge of strength and repose that came over me made me smile. Adam had done it again. Facilitating a lightning bolt of power straight to my self-esteem.

When I got to Simon’s room, I found him lying in bed, clutching his blanket. I turned on his night light and sat next to him. “Hey kiddo, why aren’t you asleep yet?”

He shrugged. “Bad dream.”

“Want to tell me about it?” I ran my fingers through his hair.

“Nah.”

“Okay, well, why don’t you tell me about your day. Did you have fun at Gavin’s house?”

He scratched his chin. “Yeah. I told him about the zoo. He was really jealous!”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah! And I drew a picture of the ostrich we saw.”

“Well, I’m so glad you had fun, buddy. We’ll have to do that again real soon.”

“Promise?”

“Of course.”

He snuggled deeper in his bed. “What did you do today, Kate?”

“Well, while you were at Gavin’s, I helped your mom set up the house and worked on my thesis a little bit. Then I had to shower and get ready…”

His eyelids started to drift and fall. It was way past his bedtime and I wasn’t surprised he was out so quickly. Some nights, when story time didn’t work, I recounted my day in painstaking detail and that usually conked him out. A six-year-old’s attention span could be a brilliant thing.

“I love you, buddy,” I whispered, and kissed his forehead. I quietly rose, tucked the blankets in around him, and turned for the door.

There was a shadow in the doorway. A sharp scream burned my throat, but I managed to stifle it. Before terror gripped me completely, Adam stepped into the dim light. My lungs struggled briefly, but after a few deep breaths, I pushed the fear away. A shadowy figure coming toward me was an instant anxiety spike.

I walked toward him, out into the hallway, and closed Simon’s door behind me.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he rasped.

“It’s okay. I’m glad it’s you.” My lips trembled slightly. “I didn’t mean to be gone that long.”

“You weren’t.” Adam’s voice was deep and laced with intent. He cupped my face in his hands. Before I could react, he kissed me. He parted my lips with his tongue and took a long, deep taste. It was quick, hard. Intense. If his goal was to steal all the oxygen from my lungs in one earth-shattering pull of his mouth, he had succeeded.

“W-what was that for?” I gasped, wishing I had more breath, but the sinful mogul had just kissed it all out of me.

He shook his head and tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. I untucked it, letting it fall back over my jaw and neck.

He frowned, but didn’t push the matter. “Are you ready to get back to the party?”

“Not really, but yeah, we’d better.”

He guided me down the hallway, his hand resting on the small of my back as he slowly led me downstairs to the crowd of people.

“I can always find something far better to occupy your time with, you know.”

“Don’t tempt me. I just may take you up on your offer.”

“About time, woman.”

Oh my God! He smiled! Bigger than I had ever seen. It reached his eyes and gave him a boyish charm. I liked this side of him. The human side. The power and dominance was still there, but there was something deeper. Many children who grew up being bounced around in the system had issues with control and a warped sense of stability. It wasn’t a mystery that being a foster child played a part in his demeanor. But there was something more. Something almost broken that seemed to be buried deep inside him. Something that called to me. I wanted to dig into that side of Adam and latch on tight.

“There you are,” Eddie Stout slurred as he ambled toward me. The party had been in full swing for a little while and the handsy, middle-aged tax attorney had already had his share of Stoli.

“You look fucking hot, Katelyn!” He raised his hand to my face. I flinched and instinctively squeezed my eyes shut.