Lowlander Silverback(38)

The snarl in his throat grew louder. Almost there. The pressure filled her entire body, from her middle to her fingertips. She arched her back as he gripped her hair and clamped his teeth onto her shoulder. Not hard enough to break the skin, but hard enough to draw the first pulse of a body-shattering orgasm from her. Kong froze on the next stroke with her name rasping from his lips. Jets of heat shot into her, and he bucked into her again and again, matching her orgasm. With one last growl, he pushed her chest onto the bed and pumped into her again where he stayed locked deep inside of her, emptying himself completely. His body relaxed against her as he kissed the back of her neck, over and over.

“I love you. I love you,” she chanted in a whisper because it felt so important that he knew right now.

He smiled against her skin and bit her softly again. Sexy. Bitey. Kong. With a sigh, he slid out of her and pulled her flush against him on the bed. He spread the covers over their legs and kissed her softly. It wasn’t the passionate kisses they sometimes had when they were overwhelmed with each other. This one said those three important words back to her without any sound. He cupped the back of her head like she was precious and sipped her until she smiled sleepily and hugged him close.

He inhaled deeply and pulled her body close as he rested his chin on top of her head. “Thanks for forgiving me,” he murmured so softly she almost missed it.

Shaking her head against the soft pillow, she said, “There was nothing to forgive.”

And as she traced the scars on his body, the ones he’d received avenging Mac and choosing her, she was struck with how lucky she was to be in this moment. Wrapped in the arms of the man she loved. A week ago, this wasn’t a possibility, but here she was.

And suddenly, Kong’s earlier question took on a new meaning.

You ready to go home?

Home wasn’t a place anymore.

She smiled against his skin and kissed a scar right above his heart.

Home was Kong.





Chapter Thirteen




Kong’s cell phone rattled across the bedside table, kept from falling off the edge only by the cord that was charging it. He scrubbed his hands over his face and squinted at the glowing caller ID on the screen. Five in the morning, and why the hell would Kirk be calling him this early, or at all? Kong hadn’t talked to him since the night Fiona had given the order to kill Mac.

He accepted the call and murmured, “Hang on.” Then he looked over at Layla who was still sleeping peacefully beside him, her arm thrown over his middle and a slight frown drawing down her delicately arched, sandy-blond eyebrows. No make-up and clad in nothing but a pair of cotton panties and a tank top, and damn his mate stole his breath away.

He slipped out from under her arm and pulled the covers over her, tucking her in tightly before he unhooked the phone from the charger and padded out of the trailer.

“What do you want?” he asked low as he leaned on the front porch railing. The Gray Backs would be up soon to go to work on the landing, but he didn’t want to perk up their oversensitive hearing and make them lose any sleep.

“I just got a call from Fiona.”

Kong’s heartbeat stuttered and then picked up double time.

“Kong, she’s not done coming after you and Layla.”

“Why would you tell me this? Aren’t you one of her henchmen?”

“No.” Kirk’s voice sounded off. Defeated or disillusioned, perhaps. “I’m already dead, Kong. I have been since she gave the order to take out Mac. I was supposed to help Rhett, but I didn’t. Couldn’t.”

“I thought you were playing watch out while Rhett—”

Kirk made a clicking sound behind his teeth, and static blasted across the phone as if he had rubbed the speaker against his shirt. “I told you I didn’t choose to be your guard. This is a courtesy call. I’m handling the sawmill until you’re ready to take it over again. I just wanted to say you don’t have to worry about the business. I’ve got this until she comes for me. It’s the least I can do for what I was a part of.”

“But you said you weren’t a part of Mac’s death.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about. I mean for what I’ve had to do to you. Controlling you, watching you, berating every little thing you did wrong. You didn’t do anything wrong, Kong. You’re still not doing anything wrong. Our people are fucked up. Fucked. Up. I told Fiona I’m rogue now, but before I did, she asked where you were staying. I didn’t tell her anything, but she’ll find you. She asked me what happened to Gordon and Ivan. To Rhett. She said they hadn’t called or come home. I didn’t answer, but that was answer enough for her, you know?”