Page 90 of Complete Me
She marches over to my bike and waits patiently for me to swing my leg over and steady it before she slips in behind me, her arms bounding around my waist, lifting up my shirt so her fingers can touch my bare skin. She’s just as addicted to touching me as I am her, and it makes my chest fill with pride.
Instead of going straight to my house, I decide to take a detour and drive into town so she can get things from her apartment to hold her over at my place. As I slow my bike and take the turn down the small alley to park in the rear of Rogue, I feel her grip on me tighten, her body stiffening. Cutting the engine, Kinsey takes off her helmet and jumps off, swinging on me, the anger from the distillery simmering just behind her eyes.
“I don’t want to be here.”
“Sweetheart, no one’s gonna hurt you ever again.”
“I’m not ready to be away from you.”
Wait, what?
“Are you scared to go in there because of what happened?”
“No, I’ve gotten so used to spending all my time with you, with sharing a bed, with waking up to you, I’m not ready for that to end.”
My smile must reach my fucking eyes because Kinsey stands, hands on her hips, looking every bit confused, irritated, and cute as fuck.
“What the hell are you smiling about?” she snaps, making me chuckle under my breath.
“My violent little fighter,” I tell her as I grab her face with my hands, dropping a hard kiss to her mouth. “You think you’re ever sleepin’ away from me again?”
“Isn’t that why you brought me here?”
“No, baby. We’re packing whatever you need for at least a few days until I can find the time to pack the rest of it. You’re moving in with me.”
“What?” she practically whispers, and I can hear the relief in her voice.
I bend my knees to be down at her level. “I told you. Mine,” I whisper against her lips before biting the pouty bottom one. She hisses, her fingers moving to touch the sore spot.
“C’mon then, big guy, let’s get me packed. I want to see my new home!” she sings as she turns and moves toward the back steps, as if she weren’t just ready to fight me like a little demon spawn.
In two large strides, I’m grabbing her around her tiny waist, turning her around so her legs wrap around me. My favorite fucking place for her to be. Her hands find my face, delicate fingers scratching lightly at my beard as she tilts her head down and captures my lips with hers.
She squeezes herself around me as she kisses me, her tongue licking the seam of my lips, demanding that I open forher. I comply quickly, loving when she’s desperate like this. I hold her close, running my hands up her back and down over her plump ass, gripping and kneading my fingers into the flesh.
My heart sinks as we push open the door. I was expecting to have weeks’ worth of cleanup to do, but it’s already been cleaned and put back together. The walls are filled with my artwork, held by new frames, the floors scrubbed, and the furniture replaced. It looks like it did before those assholes came in and trashed it—better even. It must have taken thousands to repair all of the damage, not to mention the time over the last few days.
“Holy shit,” Kinsey gasps, and her hands cover her mouth in shock that matches my own as we take in the condition of my tattoo shop.
“You okay, sweetheart?”
“Yeah, just . . . wow. I can’t believe they did all this.”
“I can,” I admit. “Your family is one in a million. They’re the best people.”
“They’ll get over this, right? They just need a minute to process. I know they want us to be happy.”
“They will. I know just how to handle it, too.”
“Shit. I want no part of that.”
“This is between me and them now, baby. I’m going to keep you and save my friendship with them. Even if we have to beat it out of each other.”
Kinsey and I make our way upstairs to her apartment so she can pack. I take a seat on her bed, noticing the book she was reading last, the one I gave her, which reminds me.
“Kins, don’t forget to pack your vibrator.”
The pretty blue of her eyes gets wide, her tongue peeking out and swiping against the corner of her lips in a sexy, sultry move that has my cock bucking against my jeans again. Fuck, she’s gonna kill me.
