Killer

  Shit, I’m late taking my meds. Quickly, I down the bitter pills that keep my brain from short-circuiting and eat a few crackers to settle my stomach. I pick up my phone and delete my mother’s messages. My finger hovers over the delete button for Max’s voice mail, but for some reason, I push play instead. His voice is hurried and parts of the message are muffled so I can’t tell what it is he wants.

  “Britt, it’s… ummmm, well…. it’s Max. I…. Killer. Anyway…. so maybe…. I can’t help……”

  I stare at the phone, puzzled. No way do I have the energy to decipher Max’s bizarre voice mail right now, and I am not calling him back to find out either.

  My mind wanders to last night, that moment before Keller stepped into the cage. Something was there between us, I know it. I have no idea why he won’t admit that we work, that we need each other, that we both have demons to fight and fight them better together.

  Screw it.

  I pull my laptop out of my work bag and fire it up, impatiently tapping on the table as I wait. Once it’s on, I click through folders until I find the one with Keller’s most recent pre-fight physical. It’s my job to collect all medical paperwork and submit it to the AFL. On the top, below the name Keller Bishop, is exactly what I was looking for. I jot it down, shove my feet into my shoes, and too impatient to wait for a cab, I grab my keys.

  Fifteen minutes later, I pull into the underground garage of one of the newest high-rise buildings in Midtown. All modern design and sleek glass, this luxury condo complex is far from what I expected for a man like Keller Bishop. I blink back my surprise and push the button for the elevator. Seventeen stories later, I’m standing outside of a large gray door.

  Taking a deep breath, I lift my hand and knock.

  11

  Killer

  Knocking. Someone is knocking on my door. No one ever knocks on my door so I ignore it. It gets louder.

  Persistent motherfucker.

  I haul my sorry carcass to my feet and dump my empty beer bottle in the sink as I walk by. Instead of joining Dad at his celebration of the worst fucking day of my life, I stayed home and drank. Actually, that’s not true. I started drinking last night after the fight and just kept going when I woke up. Because I stuck to beer, I’m pleasantly buzzed, not shitfaced like I would be with hard liquor.

  The knocking starts again right as I yank the door open. My eyes widen when I see who’s standing on my threshold.

  Maybe I should have drowned myself in hard liquor.

  “Britt?”

  My head spins as the small woman who turned my world upside down pushes past me into my home. She stops a few feet in and her pert nose wrinkles, her jaw jutting out defiantly.

  “Are you drunk?”

  What the—?

  I slam the door closed and spin to face my accuser. “What difference does it make if I am? But for your information, no, I’m not drunk. I’ve been drinking, it’s not the same thing.”

  Britt crosses her arms over her chest, her confidence waning. “Oh.”

  Jesus. Today of all days, pure temptation shows up on my doorstep, literally. The one day of the year, besides Kinsey’s birthday, that I allow myself to fall the fuck apart. Frustrated, I thread my hands through my hair, tugging on it.

  “Why are you here, Britt?”

  Her face colors, those blue eyes shimmer wetly, and I know exactly why she’s here. I hurt her. On purpose. Because I’m a selfish fucking bastard.

  “I just…” she sighs, her gaze dropping to her feet. “I’m having a really bad day and…” Her lips tremble and she shifts from foot to foot. “And I missed you.” Those thick lashes flutter as her eyes flick back up to mine, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth.

  Fuck.

  I close my eyes and inhale slowly through my nose. I can’t do this. I can’t let her get close again. Facing reality is too painful for Keller, for the man she needs me to be. Besides, Britt deserves so much more than a walking corpse, someone who goes through the motions of living without feeling any human emotions except anger and violence. And guilt. Lots of goddamn guilt. I dig the heels of my hands into my eyes, concentrating on staying strong. On not pulling her into my arms and kissing her until I rob her of her breath, her kind heart, her very soul, sucking them into my body, leaving her empty.

  “Britt…” She takes a step toward me and my pulse kicks up a notch. “What are you doing?” Without answering, Britt steps forward again, now close enough for me to smell her sweet, citrusy, feminine scent. Close enough to feel the heat radiating off her perfect, unblemished skin. Skin I’d love to mark with my teeth and the tight grip of my fingers on her hips. The thought makes my cock harden and I curse under my breath.

  “Keller,” she whispers, her soft breath caressing my neck.

  “God, Britt. This is such a bad idea.” My hands are twitching, aching to reach out and pull that sinful body against mine, to do unspeakable things that would have us both shouting in ecstasy. Sinking into her tight, wet heat would make me forget about today, the anniversary, and all the bullshit that I carry on my shoulders every day. The relief would be euphoric. “I don’t want to use you, Britt.”

  It’s a lie. I do want to use her. Take her flesh and pound away my guilt into oblivion. But while Killer revels in the thought of holding her down and taking his pleasure, that teeny-tiny human side, the side only Britt can bring out, hates the thought of treating her like another hole to fuck. A release. A way to forget. She’s so, so much more than that.

  Britt takes the final step, closing the gap between us. She curls her hands around my neck and gazes up at me. I can do nothing but stare back at her, trapped by those stunning blue eyes. I study them, the emotions in their depths, and that’s when I finally get it.

  Britt needs this as much as I do. Whatever her demons are, they rival mine in their magnitude. The pain and desperation I see in those sapphire eyes reflect what I see in the mirror every single day.

  When I finally allow my mind to give in to desire, lust explodes bright white and hot, eclipsing everything else in my overworked brain. I thread my hands into the silky hair at the back of her neck and tilt her head back. “Last chance to say no, Britt,” I growl, my fingers tightening on her scalp as my body vibrates with need.

  Britt licks her lips and my cock throbs painfully. “Take me, Keller. Make me yours again.”

  The sound that comes rumbling out of my chest can only be described as primal as my mouth crashes down on hers. The joining is passionate, teeth, tongue, and lips, hot and wet, sliding together in desperation. One of my hands skims down her back to grip her round ass, crushing her soft groin against my rigid length. Britt moans into my mouth and I lose any semblance of restraint.

  Tearing my mouth away, I bite down on her lower lip and tug on it before releasing her. “Bedroom, now,” I rasp. Britt doesn’t move, her eyes hazy with lust. “Right now,” I growl, taking her by the shoulders and spinning her to face the bedroom. I land a sharp crack across her firm buttocks, eliciting a squeal as Britt hurries down the hall. She peeks into several open doors before finding the right one.

  Following a few steps behind, I pause in the doorway to rein in my urges, Britt standing near the bed. Slowly, she turns to face me. I take in my fill, my eyes slowly roving up and down her perfect body, remembering how every inch tasted, how it felt beneath my hands. Britt inhales and whispers one shaky word. “Keller.”

  The sound of my name on her lips does something to the damaged man inside. I haven’t been Keller in so long. I haven’t wanted to be him. But having Britt, gorgeous and willing in my room, seeing the raw emotions in her eyes—desire, adoration, trust—makes me long for things I shouldn’t. Things I don’t deserve. But I’m weak. The chance to feel something again is too tempting. The anniversary, the alcohol, the pain of not being with Britt… the remainder of my walls collapse into a pile of rubble at her feet.

  “Britt,” I rasp, never needing anything as much as I need her.

  I
step forward, pulling Britt into my arms, kissing her lips, her throat, across her collarbone. Nose to nose, I grasp the hem of her shirt. She raises her arms, giving herself to me completely. The magnitude of her gift, her trust, makes me breathless. I tug off the fabric, tossing it aside to quickly work off the rest of her clothes.

  Once she’s naked, Britt reaches out, sliding her fingers along the waistband of my loose athletic pants. The feather-light touch across my abs sends chills up my spine, my skin a riot of sensation. “Fuck.” The curse slips free as my head falls back. I stand still, allowing Britt to undress me, allowing her the same level of trust she gave me. Small hands dig under the fabric at my lower back. Britt grabs the firm globes of my ass, kneading and squeezing them, exploring every inch as we grind together.

  “I want you. I need you,” she murmurs as she licks a path up my throat to my jaw.

  “Jesus, Britt. I… I never…” Words fail me. I hardly ever feel emotions let alone put them in words. There are no words to describe what Britt does to me.

  “Shhhhhh,” she whispers, stroking the side of my face. “I know. I feel it too.”

  I swallow, the lump in my throat making it difficult to speak. My eyes burn as this girl, this amazing woman, makes me feel more with one sentence than I’ve felt in ten years. Makes me feel… worthy.

  Britt pushes my pants down and I kick them to the side. Both of us naked, we spend time standing pressed together, our hands wandering as our mouths and tongues explore. When my body begins to hum with electricity and my balls grow heavy, I gently push her back on the mattress. Britt lies down, pulling me with her.

  When I line up and enter her hot depths, our eyes connected, I know without a doubt this single moment is going to change my life. This will either be my salvation or cause my complete destruction.

  This will be the first time I’ve ever made love to another person, and I pray to god I’m strong enough to come through it unscathed.

  Britt

  When Keller joins his body with mine, everything in my world becomes clear, focused… right. As much as I need the controlling pain-pleasure Keller brings me, somehow, he instinctively knows that today I need to be held. I need to be loved.

  Is that what this is? Love?

  I look up at Keller. His silver eyes heavy-lidded, his swollen lips parted as he slowly moves in and out of me. He shows me with his body what he holds in his heart and to me, it feels like love. I respond in kind, my back arching under his touch, my hands caressing the rippling muscles of his arms and shoulders, my hips lifting to meet each one of his long, deep thrusts. Keller leans on his elbows, his hands gently framing my face. He stares down at me, his expression filled with such wonder, tears spring up in my eyes unbidden. Unashamed, I let them flow down my cheeks to be absorbed by the sheets and gasp as the intensity of Keller opening his emotions takes me to the edge.

  My heart stutters and my breath catches. I’m in love. In love with this dangerous, tortured, violent man. This man who is also kind, protective, loyal, and gets me like no one else does.

  “Britt… I….” Keller’s eyes flutter closed and he increases the pace, his hips snapping faster, harder, his breathing becoming more labored. His cries are raw, real, emotional as he clings to me as if I’m the only thing keeping him grounded.

  “Keller…” I moan, sparks exploding into fiery heat as his cock rubs a spot deep in my pussy, growing into a powerful orgasm.

  Keller grabs my hands, bringing them over my head and threading our fingers together. “I’m so close, Britt. Tell me you are too.” His voice is strained but his rhythm never falters, his beautiful, muscular body undulating over mine.

  “Yes. I-I… ohgod, Keller!” My breath is cut off as my body tightens, sensation overwhelming me. It tips me right over the edge. Keller shouts as I contract tight around his cock, pulsing around him. I arch back, my head pressing into the bed as my orgasm rips through me, liquid fire running up and down my body, hitting every nerve ending, and making my toes curl. Spots flash behind my eyes as I shudder and moan.

  “Fuuuuck, goddamn, Britt!” Keller fucks me through my release, causing me to scream and thrash as the pleasure becomes almost unbearable. He lets go of my hands and pushes into a kneeling position between my thighs. Grabbing my hips, Keller pounds in once, twice more, shouting as he comes deep inside me. I stare in wonder at this stunning man, his muscles tight, tattooed skin shimmering with sweat, his head thrown back in ecstasy.

  It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life.

  When he’s finally drained, Keller collapses on top of me, careful to keep most of his weight to the side so he doesn’t crush me. I wrap my arms and legs around him, burying my nose in the crook of his neck. I never want to lose this feeling, never want to separate from this man.

  I’m in love with Keller Bishop and I’ve never been happier.

  After a nap and a shower, Keller brought out his dominant side, forcing me to kneel on the wet tiles to suck his cock before yanking me up, spinning me around, and fucking me into the shower wall until I became limp in his arms. Eventually, we ended up in the kitchen, starving and thirsty after our activities.

  Now Keller is bent over, peering into his fridge, gorgeous round ass on full display.

  “Britt?”

  I blink. Keller is staring at me, holding two bottles in his hands.

  “Huh?”

  He smirks. “You didn’t hear a word I said, did you? You were staring at my ass, weren’t you?” My face heats up, but I don’t deny it. I simply shrug. I mean, how can I not stare at such perfection? “I asked if you want coconut water or sweet tea?”

  I shake my head. “Whatever you’re having is fine.” Seated on a barstool at the island, I lean on my elbows, chin propped on my hands, and watch as Keller pours us each a glass of sweet tea.

  “Here.” He pushes one toward me while draining his own.

  “Thanks.” I take a few sips, but prefer to watch Keller, shirtless and leaning against the countertop, his throat rippling as he swallows his drink.

  “Britt.” I blink again, lifting my gaze to find shining gray eyes. Keller looks amused. “Maybe I should put a shirt on?”

  This time, my face flames up. Apparently, I can’t go two seconds without ogling the man. But really, he’s stunning, and at work I can’t get caught openly staring at him or I’d be drooling all over the gym, so I’m going to get my fill when I can.

  “Sorry.” I divert my attention to spin the stool around, taking in his condo. “This is really nice, Keller.”

  I hear him place his glass in the sink, and not gently. “Thanks.”

  I glance over my shoulder to see Keller all tense, his mouth pressed into a tight line. Okaaay. Note, don’t talk about his condo.

  Keller circles the island and presses a kiss to the top of my head. “Let me throw on a shirt and we can… I mean, if you want… I guess watch a movie or something?”

  The look on his face makes me burst with laughter. “You have no idea what to do with me when we’re not having sex, do you?”

  “Ummmmm, is it bad to say no?” Keller scratches his head and his cheeks pink up. It’s adorable.

  “Don’t worry. We’ll figure something out.” I wink, getting the serious man to smile. I nearly choke on my drink. He’s so beautiful when he smiles, positively breathtaking. It’s so rare I’ve only seen it a handful of times.

  Keller walks down the hall, disappearing into his bedroom. I slide off the stool and wander over to the tall windows on the other end of the room by the couches and television. The view is spectacular. It’s not quite dusk, so the blue sky is streaked with brilliant shades of yellow fading to tangerine along the horizon. I turn and check out the rest of the living area and frown. No art on the walls, no pictures, no personal items. It’s almost as if Keller moved into a staged home, cold and impersonal. This is a pretty expensive home for a rookie fighter. Just one more of a million things I don’t know about Keller.

  On a
small table next to the door is a pile of papers and bills. I don’t mean for it to happen, but one of them catches my eye, an embossed corner peeking out from under a larger envelope. I step closer and my heart slams against my ribcage. I shiver, a cold sweat breaking out across my skin as I approach the table.

  It can’t be.

  As if watching myself on TV, my hand reaches out, going through the motions without being aware of it. With one finger, I nudge the larger envelope to the side, exposing the one underneath.

  Panic grips my throat, sucking the breath from my lungs, and my vision shimmers. Unable to make sense of anything, I bend over the table and read the silver embossing.

  My head spins, the room suddenly too hot, the floor tilting back and forth beneath my wobbly legs. I read the return address, already knowing what it says, because I have the very same envelope sitting at home, buried under my own thick stack of mail.

  I stare at the invitation to the tenth anniversary of “the incident,” pain and confusion shattering my reality.

  Why? Why is this here? Why is his name Keller Bishop… Keating?

  I jerk back as if slapped, hundreds of images assaulting me at once—the dark-haired girl, the boy with the guns, huddling under the countertop… I cry out and press my palms into my temples. The memories are so real, so fresh, I can smell the gunpowder, the blood, the feel of the trembling girl in my arms.

  And that’s what they are. Memories. Not images. Not dreams. Memories. They’re coming back.

  Oh god.

  “Britt? What’s going on?”

  I try to focus through blurry, tear-filled eyes. Somehow, the envelope is in my hands, dotted with moisture as it drips from my cheeks.

  “How—?” I whisper, the envelope crumpling as my fingers tighten around it.

  When Keller doesn’t respond, I look up and stop breathing.

  His eyes. My world spins off its axis, hurtling me straight into hell.