Thin Love(174)

“My always,” he whispers and then Kona leans down, wet lips on her mouth, tongue back inside and he takes her wrists with his freehand, fingers threaded with hers on the pillow above her head as he eases back inside of her.

“Kona… I…”

“Shh, beautiful just let me feel you.” He slides his mouth to her ear, down her neck. “Let me love you for a little bit longer.”

And Keira does not argue, does not stop Kona from loving her, from touching her like it was the first time. Like it will be the last. His breath over her, his heavy body on top of her and Keira closes her eyes and lets Kona take what he needs.





Keira is naked, lying on her stomach. It takes a moment for her thoughts to organize, to remind her that it’s Kona’s bed she’s sleeping in. It’s his large hand settled on her lower back. It was Kona last night that made her body ache.

She smiles, flashes of them together, him taking her hard, then loving her and loving her again, playing like a slow loop in her mind. His touch, his mouth, his lovely, wide dick had brought her to the brink over and over. She thought no one could come that much; that the female body wasn’t capable of that many orgasms. Kona disproved all that.

A quick glance down her body and Keira sees the marks, lovely, faint purple bruises, several teeth marks that she will wear like a badge of honor. They could last a week, maybe two and the idea of more of them, twins to the colors across her skin, given to her in the weeks ahead…

The weeks ahead wipes the smile from Keira’s face.

They only had a few weeks until summer’s end. Steven’s estate would be organized by then. Those poor kids he never met, those abandoned women he treated like whores would get what remained. And then what? Where would she be? Nashville? Here with Kona?

He cares about her. She knows that. He loves Ransom. Keira had seen that in every glance Kona shot their son’s way. He is proud of the boy she’d raised. He wants to be a part of the man Ransom will become.

But where would that happen? Would he leave New Orleans and the opportunities here to live with them? Did he want to live with them?

Despite the infrequent mention of “always” they hadn’t discussed much last night. They teased each other, tortured each other with their tongues, with their bodies, but Kona didn’t say he still loved her. They hadn’t made plans for what would happen next.

He still hadn’t apologized. Not for what he’d told her that day. It was stupid, she knew, to hold onto that anger. It made no sense for that hurt, that betrayal to fester in her chest. She had Ransom. He’d been the offering Kona had made for his sins without ever knowing. Keira shouldn’t still be angry. But she thought she still needed the words. She needs that “sorry.”

A quick roll on her back and Keira watches Kona sleep. There is a small grin on his face and his features are relaxed; that forehead smooth, mouth unclenched; sated, happy. She wants to stare at him. She wants to spend the day watching him sleep. Keira wants to curl against his chest, have his arms around her. But for how long?

And then her life in Nashville comes back to her. The responsibilities she’s created for herself. The obligations.

Keira closes her eyes, feeling a hefty weight of guilt, remorse coiling in her chest. She’d spent the night with Kona free of worry; free from anything that would take her attention from his touch, his smell. She’d acted like a teenager without a care in the world. The last time she did that, she’d ended up shattered, broken and her belly swollen by a baby.

Ransom could stay with Kona. The thought makes her heart shutter, but it’s what her son needs. He’d be with Leann, with Tristan and finally have the father he needed. But Keira? Coming back here with all the ghosts of the past eager to consume her? No. She can’t do it.

Turning away from Kona, she eases off the mattress, movements slow, quiet as she searches the room for her clothes. She’ll leave him a note. He’ll have to understand. She has a life back in Tennessee and Kona isn’t a part of it. He has his own plans, his own obligations.

“Where are you going?” He sits up in bed, thin sheet around his waist, dipped so Keira could see the hard grooves of his stomach, the deep indentions near his hips.

She can’t look at him. She can’t let him change her mind. He’ll argue with her, try to convince her that she should stay. She just… can’t.

“It’s late,” she finally says, fastening her bra, ignoring how delicious Kona’s deep voice sounds, how his hair is rumpled from sleep. “I’ve got things to do today.”

She upturns the thick duvet on the floor searching for her shirt and notices Kona’s head turning, eyes on his clock. “It’s seven a.m. What could you possibly have to do at seven a.m.?”