The Man I Want to Be (Under Covers)(24)

His hands curled into fists as he stomped across the room. He opened the  mini fridge, looked in, but couldn't focus enough to see what was  inside, so he slammed the thing closed.

Finally, he heard someone sliding the card into the door and then the handle clicking open.

She walked in and he released a long breath.

Thank Christ.

Without acknowledging him, Kenna dropped her bag onto the dresser  closest to the door and then walked across the room, sliding the door  open to the balcony. Once outside, she leaned on the railing with folded  arms, her head falling forward and shoulders lifting up and down on  deep breaths.

He followed her out, resting back against the glass door. "You did good tonight. You were smart and kept your cool."

"Gee, thanks," she said, not turning.

He pushed to stand. "I'm serious. I was impressed."

She snorted. "Because that was my main focus. To impress you."

His jaw locked down, and he worked hard not to lash out at her. It was  their thing. Going at each other like a pack of rabid dogs. She'd say  something sarcastic, and then he'd go back at her with something  hurtful. He knew she was frustrated at not finding the missing items, so  he was trying to be patient.

But he was Tyke, and his patience only went so far.

"Kenna," he said, moving toward her, stopping just before making contact.

She whirled and shoved him in his chest. "I don't belong to you anymore. Get that through your big head, okay?"

He stumbled back a step. "What the hell are you-?"

"You don't have the right to make me feel this way," she went on, her  eyes blazing. "You're the one who didn't come back, remember? Not me."

He touched his chest to hers. "I know what the hell I did. You don't have to keep reminding me."

"Yes, I do!" she shouted into the dark night. "Because you don't listen!"

"I don't listen?" He let out a sharp laugh. "Look in the mirror,  sweetheart. You're the one who went traipsing into some other man's room  with the pretense of sex."

Her mouth dropped open. "Traipsing? You've got a lot of nerve, Bryan. If  you hadn't … " She slammed her lips together. "Maybe I wouldn't have had  to be in another man's room if you hadn't … if you hadn't … " She looked  away, her jaw working.

"If I hadn't what?" he said, bringing his face closer to her level. "Go  ahead. Say it. What did I do this time?" He'll just add it to the list.

"I had to do it," she bit out, ignoring his question. She was staring to  her left at the vast expanse of darkness. A few faint glows from some  of the resort activities below illuminated the outline of her face. When  she brought her gaze back to him, her eyes were hard and unwavering. It  was turning him on, watching that fire ignite and burn out of control.  "I had to go to Michael's room. I had to act like I was interested in  him. My ring is gone, and I need to do whatever I can to get it back.  Whatever it takes."         

     



 

He brushed the backs of his fingers down her cheek. In a rasp, he said,  "I told you I'll handle it. I'm gonna get it back for you."

She let out a dark chuckle. "Like I'm going to trust you to keep your word."

His hand dropped. How the hell was he supposed to prove to her that in  this instance she could trust him? He was going to come through for her.  He might've failed her in the past, but just this once he was going to  make things right.

"Kenna, I know it goes against your naturally stubborn-ass nature, but  please. I'm begging you. This is what I'm good at. Let me do it. Let me  make this right for you." He paused. "I have to make this right."

She blinked a few times, her gaze thawing to blue liquid as she digested what he'd said.

Come on. Give in.

"I … I can't," she said almost to herself. "I can't. I have to do this.  It's up to me. I went into Michael's room on my own, and I'll do  anything else I have to on my own."

"Don't torture me like that anymore," he said, jealousy rising again.

She started, her eyes displaying her surprise. "What?"

"Don't do that again," he repeated. "It was complete torture. Knowing  where you were and who you were with, not being able to do anything but  listen. The sounds of another man touching you. Putting his mouth on  you. It took everything I had not to march in there and break his  fucking neck."

Kenna swallowed, but she didn't look away.

"Worse," he went on, heat beginning to course through him. "I started  picturing me in that room with you." He ran a hand down her side,  gripped her thigh, and hoisted it up over his hip.

Her breath hitched.

"Everything," he said in a strangled voice. "I remember every goddamn  sound you used to make when I touched you. It fucking haunts me every  time I close my eyes."

He spun them so her back was against the glass door. He pulled her other  leg up around him and stepped into her spread legs, covering her with  his body. He dipped his mouth to her throat, running his tongue along  the warm, bare skin, giving him the satisfaction of hearing her quick  inhale.

"Bryan," she breathed, gripping his shirt like she was ready to rip it off.

"This," he growled. "This was what I was doing to you. Not him. Me."

"W-what else?" she said. "What else did you do to me?"

He grabbed hold of the tangles at her mid-back and tugged. Her chin flew  up and her back arched off the door, exposing the rest of her neck. He  took full advantage, working his way up with his teeth and tongue.

She locked her legs and writhed her core against him.

Pulling back slightly, he cupped one of her breasts over her dress. "Now  these … these are a hell of a lot bigger than I remember." He kneaded her  through the fabric, but it wasn't enough. Forcing her strapless dress  down toward her stomach, he coaxed her tits from the tight hold. They  fell out, heavy and full. They were his for the taking. He roughly  played with one nipple, which was now at full alert. Squeezing her  breast, he tipped it up and sucked the ever-loving fuck out of the  thing.

Kenna groaned loud and forceful, which sent his desire into overload. Goddamn, he missed that sound.

Bracing an arm under her ass, he reached between them, searching for  what he knew would be his undoing. One quick slide of his fingers  against her heat, and she gasped. He wanted more. A hell of a lot more.

Tyke wrapped his fist around the front of her panties, feeling the  smooth, silky skin underneath, and gave the skimpy fabric a forceful  tug. It shredded in his hands and fell to the balcony floor beneath his  feet.

When he touched her without any barrier, feeling her wet and ready for  him, it made him so hard he didn't think he'd ever find release. He  couldn't. He'd been this way from the moment he'd left, and he'd  continue this way for the rest of his life. Only with Kenna. She was his  ruin.

"Bryan," she said, her voice soft and pleading. "Oh God, Bryan." Grabbing at the hem of his shirt, she jerked it upward.

"Forget it." He sure as hell wasn't taking either hand away from her to help get the shirt off.

"But I want to see you," she whimpered. "Touch you."

"You wanna touch something? Here. This is what I need you to touch." He  pulled back enough to pop the button of his shorts and lower the zipper.  His erection sprang out of his pants, and with the way she started  working herself against him, it landed just right to ignite his climb.

She moaned as she slid along his shaft in long, fluid motions.         

     



 

He closed his eyes and dropped his forehead to her shoulder. Fuck. He wasn't even inside her yet, and he was ready to blow.

"Kenna," he said, clamping a hand onto her full hip. "Slow down."

"No." She reached for his dick and lifted herself up, trying to seat  herself on him. "I … I want … I don't know. Just do it." Her voice was wild.  Frantic.

He wanted her. More than anything. He needed the release, and he wanted  to be the one to give her one. But not like this. Not because he was  jealous out of his mind and because she was desperate to forget.

They had a shit ton of baggage and sleeping together tonight wouldn't do  anything to solve that. If anything, it would make it worse. She  deserved not to be screwed over. He'd done that enough for one lifetime.

He stopped moving and loosened his hold on her ass. After a few seconds, she got the message and stopped, too.

She glanced at him with a confused expression. "What is it?"

"Kenna … "

She must've seen something extinguish in his eyes, because hers hardened  and her lips pinched. She wiggled against him, which didn't do anything  to help his hard-on die. He let her drop, and once on her feet, she  looked up at him and cracked her palm across his cheek. "Fuck you."

Kenna stomped into the room, slamming the glass door closed behind her.

He stood on the balcony, dick hanging out of his pants, staring after her.