Page 14 of Hush, Hush

“Like the Knights,” he seethes.

I don’t even know what to do with that. These are exactly the types of opinions I’m trying to change. Backing down isn’t an option for me. “You’ve always known I wanted to work. Dad’s expecting me to take over his hospitality businesses. Iwantto.”

He starts forward, and I step to escape him until the backside of my knees hit the bed. I sit ungracefully, and he towers over me. “You know what I want? My wife to be waiting for me when I get home from a long day’s work. Maybe in a sexy, silk robe. Maybe in absolutely nothing. I want to be buried inside her so deeply that I forget all about the tedious shit I had to do that day. I can’t do that if my wife is still at the office.”

My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth. I breathe in, chest heaving. He smells like expensive cologne, the kind he used to steal from his father’s walk-in closet so he could pretend he was grown. He’s not a little kid anymore, though, and the scent wafting off him is an aphrodisiac to my traitorous body, surrounding me in a lust-filled haze. My heart beats in my chest, a rhythm that is in stark contrast to my head. Keegan’s allure undermines me, but I can’t help falling for it every time. “Maybe we’ll fuck the tedious shit out of each other when I get home,” I tell him, hopeful.

“Says the girl who won’t let me touch her.”

“Do you want to know why, Keegan? Have you bothered to ask yourself that question? You keep telling me that I want to, and you’re obviously right. But once I let you go there, you’re going to have the power to break me—more than you already do.”

“Give in,” he growls, placing his hands on the bed on either side of my hips.

He forces me back. Placing one knee on the mattress, he begins to crawl over me. I clamp my knees to his hips, trying to stop him from going any further. “You give in,” I urge. “You know what I want. You can read me so well, you always could. Don’t play dumb when it comes to this just because you’re thinking with your dick.”

He drops his gaze to my chest, zeroing in on the slight peek of cleavage poking through the scooped neck of my shirt. He lowers his stare until he places his palms on my knees and forces them to the bed. I’m wearing jeans, but I still feel exposed as he focuses on my inseam. Drifting his hands inward, he curves his palms over my thighs until he rubs his thumb in circular motions directly over my clit. How he pinpointed that exact spot through my jeans is beyond me.

“Keegan,” I warn, but my frail attempt has less to do with him and more to do with me. I should be shouting my own name, alerting myself to the major screw-up that’s about to happen, but I don’t want him to see my weakness. The truth is, I like the picture he painted of our marriage. Me, laid out on the bed, counting down the minutes until he walks in with his sexy suit and tie. Or me, waiting for him with my bikini on in the hot tub. I can see it all, just as picture perfect as he made it sound.

“Give in,” he breathes.

“Do you want me?” I squeak out, telling myself not to focus on the way my body responds to him. “Not sex.Justme.”

“They go hand-in-hand, Dee.”

I shake my head as he quickens his tight circles over my clit. He has to press hard to get me to feel it through the thick material of my jeans, and it scares me a little that he knows the right amount of pressure. “You know I’ve always wanted you,” I plead, attempting to elicit a response from him. I told him the same thing the night I found out he cheated on me. Sobbing, I called him up to reveal my biggest secret: I’ve loved him ever since he saved my life.

He said nothing at the time. The line went mute. After a minute with no response, I hung up the phone. It didn’t stop my tears from coming. In fact, it only made them worse.

I meant it when I told Tim that the story between Keegan and me was a long one. It’s filled with cracks and potholes, barely ever a smooth surface in sight.

He reaches for my zipper, and I don’t stop him. Maybe I want to pretend that he could be good for me. Just this once. His fingers curl around the top of my jeans, and he pulls them down past my ass and thighs.

His pupils are huge as he takes in my damp panties. He runs his fingers along the edge, flirting with the lace. “You’re so wet for me.” My clit is begging for more attention, and I have no doubt I dampen my panties further just as he watches and waits.

“What are you doing to me, Delilah? I should be off nutting with some other girl who’ll actually let me fuck her right now.”

“Why don’t you just take it?” I ask. He already knows I clearly want it, but yet, he hasn’t taken it that far. It’s the one saving grace I’ve been leaning on when I think there’s no good parts left in Keegan.

“Because I want to make you beg for it.” The hope I’ve built up squashes. The Keegan staring back at me is sinister and dark. “Not until you’re on your knees, pleading for me to fuck you will I ever enter your pretty little cunt.”

If I was expecting poetry, I was dead wrong. Of course Keegan would be wanting me in some way that humiliates me, not builds me up. I swallow, tasting the wrongness of his words on my tongue. “You’ll have to wait a long time.”

He reaches out, grips my panties, and shreds them into two. The unexpected cool air caresses my sensitive flesh, and my pussy clenches. “Not as long as you think,” Keegan smirks.

When his hands reach toward my core, I think it’s because he’s going to play with me again, sink his finger inside me. He doesn’t. Instead, he spreads my folds and bends over to lick up my pussy. My hips jump off the bed. “Keegan.” It’s too intimate. It’s too far. My mind yells these two things at me as my body has other ideas. It searches his tongue out, following him as he ravishes my core.

My fingers curl into my sheets. I brace myself, trying to get my mind and body on the same page, but my mind eventually gives in to my impulses. It’s as if I don’t care that he completely humiliated me in front of a Knight elder a little while ago. Or I’ve forgiven him for the virgin stunt he pulled this morning in front of the biggest gossip at Carnegie. Or I’ve completely forgotten about the fact that he just told me he doesn’t want the type of wife that I want to be. It’s as if my mind doesn’t catch up to the fact that we’re completely wrong for each other when he’s making my body feel the opposite.

Keegan pauses, gingerly drifting his lips across my sensitive flesh. “Tell me it feels good.”

I clamp my jaw shut, but my breath still ravages in and out.

“Dee...”

“My breathing isn’t evidence enough?” I snap, waiting for him to start again.

“No, not nearly,” he says. “Tell me, and I’ll finish you off. Tell me how damn good I’m making you feel.”

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