P.S. I’m Still Yours: Chapter 18

Kiss number two dominates every inch of my brain for days after Jamie’s party.

I spend most of the week on autopilot, picking up as many shifts as possible and staying out of the house to avoid Kane.

Going straight home after work would increase my chances of accidentally running into Kane, and if the seven minutes we spent in that closet taught me anything, it’s that what my brain wants and what my body wants are two very different things.

I can’t be trusted around him.

Whatever resentment I harbor for what he did five years ago is nothing compared to the desire overwhelming my body whenever we’re in the same room.

Hence my new goal in life: pretending like nothing ever happened and avoiding Kane by any means necessary.

Unbearable attraction aside, I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been racking my brain trying to figure out how Kane pulled it off.

How he managed to sneak into the closet without anyone noticing and why, when I came back out, he was sitting on the couch, looking like the picture of nonchalance. Not to mention Cal was nowhere to be found.

You can imagine my surprise when Cal walked back into the room a beat later and apologized for taking a phone call and keeping me waiting.

Maybe it was a coincidence.

Maybe Cal got a phone call, and Kane saw an opportunity to take his place.

I thought I was going to be sick when Cal turned to me and asked if I still wanted to go in the closet with him, completely unaware that I was just touching Kane’s cock a few minutes prior.

Embarrassment rose to my cheeks, and I made up a story about having a terrible headache and wanting to go home—that should’ve been my excuse from the start.

Like that was Kane’s cue, he pushed off the couch and said he was beat, too, and calling it a night. Brooke seriously looked like she was about to cry when he said that.

Scar and Drea decided to go with Kane, and that was the end of seven minutes in heaven.

At least Jamie and Shay got to play.

They were the first to go into the closet.

They came out holding hands afterward, and Jamie texted me the next day saying they’d spent the night together, so that’s a win in my book.

I’ve had enough of coming home late and not being able to focus on my craft. My storefront’s been getting more traction, and though I haven’t had any more orders since Drea bought a few paintings, I’ve never been more motivated to make my dream come true.

I’m fighting off a yawn by the time I pull up into the beach house driveway. I had to open and close up the restaurant today, and my body is begging for some rest, but I’m determined to get some painting in before I head to bed.

I only work late in the afternoon tomorrow, so I should be able to sleep in.

Plus, I love sitting down to paint while the world is asleep. There’s something satisfying about being the only person awake.

I climb out of my mom’s car and drag my feet to the porch, typing the combination onto the keypad before walking in.

The house is silent as I jog up the stairs. I make a quick pit stop for some clothes, entering my room and changing out of my work clothes into shorts and a T-shirt.

I’m heading down the hall toward the sunroom when I notice the door is ajar. I glance over my shoulder.

I’m pretty sure I closed that the last time I went into the sunroom two days ago.

I tell myself the maid must’ve gone in, and I push the door open, stopping so abruptly I almost slip on the waxed floors.

I was right. The maid did go into the sunroom. But she’s not the only one.

Something in my chest gives a jolt when I see Kane sitting at the grand piano with his head down.

He looks up right away, green eyes finding me across the room. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days, the dark spots under his eyes and his disheveled hair drawing a clear picture.

Is something keeping him up at night?

It takes me a fragment of a second to spot the notebook on his lap and the pen trapped between his fingers. Moonlight envelops the room, creating a dim glow around his silhouette.

I’m happy to see he’s writing songs again.

I think I see his eyes flare when he gives me a once-over, and the heat diffusing through my bloodstream makes me want to turn my ass around and walk out.

The last time we were in this room, all we did was talk. So why do I feel like the sunroom is a trap, Kane is the most delicious piece of cheese, and I’m the stupid little mouse about to meet her end?

I clear my throat. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were in here.”

He stares for a moment, and then he rips his eyes away as though he can’t bear to look at me any longer. “It’s fine. I was done, anyway.”

My mouth falls open, my gaze glued to his muscular frame as he picks up the notebook, pushes off the piano bench, and makes a beeline for the door.

Okay?

Just like that, we’re back to the start. Back to when he bounced the second I walked into the room.

It makes no sense.

I know why I’m avoiding him.

Because he hurt me, and I’m scared of what this attraction could turn into, but he’s gone from taking my breath away with a gutting speech in the gazebo to trapping me in a closet and owning my mouth to running… again.

Why is he sending me so many mixed signals?

“That’s it?” My voice is close to a screech.

He stops dead.

“We’re just going to pretend like nothing ever happened?”

He spins to face me, his cold expression unwavering. “What are you talking about?”

“I know it was you last week. Cal got a phone call, and you took his place somehow, and then you…”

What I can only describe as a cunning smirk warps his lips. “And then I what?”

Just say it, Hadley.

“And then you kissed me.”

A scoff leaves his mouth.

This is the part where he denies it.

Kane parks himself inches away from me, leaning forward until his breath hits my parted lips. “So what if I did?”

That is not how I expected this conversation to go.

“You… You had no right to do that.”

Another scoff. “What part? Kissing you or licking whipped cream off your tits?”

His blunt response shocks me to my core.

“W-What the hell is your problem?”

His eyes narrow into slits. “You.”

“What?”

He clenches his jaw. “It’s you. You’re my fucking problem, Hadley. Sharing a house with you is making my life fucking miserable. You happy now?”

Again, what?

He starts to walk away.

“What did I ever do to make you hate me so much?” I snap before he walks out.

The move he makes next makes me wish I could rewind time and unsay that last sentence.

Without a word, Kane shuts the door.

And locks it.

“You think this is because I hate you?” His voice is barely above a whisper.

I’m at a loss for words.

He turns to face me, pinning me with a look I feel deep in my bones. “You think I’m fucking killing myself not to go anywhere near you because I hate you?”

As scared as I am of the point he’s trying to make, every nerve in my body is imploring me to get closer. I take a few steps forward, stopping when Kane beats me to the punch, meeting me halfway.

“If I hated you, this wouldn’t be so fucking hard.”

My entire body freezes when his hand lifts around my throat in a single move. He’s not cutting off my airways, but his grip is tight enough to make breathing more difficult.

“Being near you feels like suffocating.” He moves closer, his breath crashing against my lips. “Like the air in my lungs is thinning with every fucking second that I don’t have you, and I’ve been going mad knowing that I can’t. I’m fucking begging you, Hadley. Do not push me right now…” His mouth grazes mine, the contact so soft and light it makes my body ache.

I have no idea why he won’t let himself be with me.

But in a moment of madness…

I want him to change his mind.

I throw caution to the wind, letting my tongue trace the seam of his mouth.

That’s all it takes for his self-control to snap.

The impact of our mouths colliding nearly sends me to my knees. His tongue immediately slips past my teeth to capture mine, and I let him take what I promised he’d never have again.

His big hands curl around the backs of my thighs and he lifts me up so fast I yelp, but his mouth muffles my surprise, his kisses so powerful and possessive I’m panting in his arms.

“I fucking warned you,” he says through a clenched jaw, and I wrap my legs around his waist, the bitter taste of defeat flooding my mouth.

Kane’s tongue meets mine again, the sounds rising in his throat telling me what I’ve been too afraid to admit.

Kane Wilder is the biggest mistake of my life.

The one I never learn from.

He’s the bad decision I continuously make.

Letting him in is like drinking from a poisoned cup while knowing damn well it’s going to kill you.

And the worst part?

I drink it all the same…

Kane carries me across the room, his mouth never leaving mine, and I grip his face with both hands, losing myself in his kiss. I think he’s going to take me to the couch against the wall until something cold touches my ass cheeks through my shorts.

I sever the kiss just long enough to realize…

He didn’t drop me on the couch.

H dropped me on top of the grand piano.

He set me down where the music rack normally goes, and I have no idea when he even removed the rack, but his lips finding mine immediately expel the questions from my mind.

He pulls back a few seconds later, heat blazing in his green eyes, and rests a final kiss on my lips before sitting down on the bench.

“Spread your legs, baby.” His request rumbles deep in his throat, and I must’ve left my sanity at the door because I do just that.

I stretch my arms out behind me, propping myself onto my palms as Kane stares me dead in the eyes, as though he’s waiting for me to ask him to stop at any moment.

His fiery gaze locks on mine as he traps his bottom lip between his teeth and inches closer.

I gasp when he reaches for the waistband of my shorts.

He waits a few more seconds, giving me a chance to oppose.

I never do.

Then he yanks my shorts down my legs in one go.

Seeing as I thought I was going to bed after this, I went commando under my shorts. I’m fully exposed to him now, save for my T-shirt, and a wave of self-consciousness washes over me from the moment he zeroes in on my pussy. I’m so painfully aware of how turned on I am, and now… he is, too

The next thing I know, he’s resting my legs up on each of his shoulders.

“Shirt off,” he commands.

I hesitate. I’m already spread-eagled on top of this fucking piano with my pussy bared to him. My shirt is the last piece of clothing shielding my body.

“Now, Hadley,” he grits out when I don’t oblige quickly enough.

My hands are shaking, but I grip the hem of my T-shirt and pull.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he breathes as I toss my T-shirt, showing him all of me at once.

His jaw drops at the full picture, hungry eyes raking over my entire body.

“So fucking gorgeous,” he rasps and wraps his arms around my thighs, jerking me forward. “Closer,” he growls, his voice thick with impatience.

I oblige, scooting until my ass is dangling off the piano. His grip grows tighter around my thighs, his fingers digging into my flesh as he presses down to keep my legs firmly on his shoulders.

This is the same boy I used to share a shed with.

The boy who took my first kiss.

The very same boy who put all those tears in my eyes.

Turns out he’s also the one making me wet and the definition of my blind spot.

That’s when he stops to give me another chance to back out, his breath sweeping over my center as he waits.

I don’t take the out he’s offering me.

A voice in my head utters a warning as scary as it is thrilling.

This was my last chance.

There’s no going back now.

Kane doesn’t wait a second longer, filling the little space left between us and flattening his tongue against my clit.

It’s only a second.

A sharp lick.

But holy mother of…

It feels like little zaps of electricity shooting through my body.

“I need you to hear me right now. If you let me do this, I’m going to want to do everything. Fuck you, feel you, make you beg until you hate me. This isn’t a onetime thing. Once we do this, you’re mine. Do you understand?”

The pulsating point between my legs wants me to agree. But my heart can’t handle everything with Kane.

It wouldn’t survive sex with him.

Not without reigniting feelings I’ve spent years trying to bury.

“Hadley, tell me you understand.” He proceeds to sink his teeth into the side of my thigh and leaves a few bite marks behind. “Fuck, just… please.”

His begging is all it takes to make me cave. “I understa—”

I can’t even finish my sentence.

Because Kane is already sucking my clit into his mouth and making me see five times the number of stars the windows of the sunroom ever could.

His tongue practically assaults my pussy the second his teeth release my clit, and I throw my head back, fighting my moans with all my might.

Kane’s feral groan mixes with the sound of my arousal, and I attempt to close my legs to decrease the pleasure, but his grip on my thighs is so strong they barely even move.

The growl of disapproval vibrating against my core tells me he didn’t like that, and I’d be an idiot to try it again.

I can’t even describe how incredible his tongue feels, and I give myself over to the sensations, playing the words he said to me on a loop.

This isn’t a onetime thing.

And as much as I hate myself for it, I really hope not.

It isn’t long before I start to squirm, wriggling on the piano and pressing myself farther into his face. I can’t help it. I need more.

“That’s it. Ride my fucking face,” he breathes, flicking my clit with his tongue until I’m chasing my breath.

“Kane,” I moan a tad louder than I should, considering where I am and what time it is, but he doesn’t seem to give a fuck because he only goes harder at the sound of his name. “More,” I manage to whisper.

“What do you want?” He releases his hold on my thigh and stops teasing my clit. I miss his tongue instantly, but his finger sliding up and down my slit stops me from complaining. “You want my fingers in your pussy?”

He starts rubbing my clit in quick circles, and I have to bite down on my lip not to moan. I’m so sensitive I just know it won’t be too long before I fall apart.

“Y-Yes,” I croak. I sound so ashamed. So damn pathetic to my own ears, and I want to cringe, but it sure doesn’t have the same effect on Kane because he groans again, guiding his finger to my entrance.

“How’s that?” He barely moves two of his fingers inside me. They’re not even fully in. “Is that enough?”

With bated breath, I whimper, “More.”

God, what is happening to me?

“Beg, Hadley. How badly do you want my fingers?”

“Kane, for fuck’s sake.” I’m growing irritated, and he laughs at the impatience plaguing my tone.

“What did I ask you to do?”

Defeat crushes me. “Beg.”

“And is that begging I hear?”

I might just kill him before I climax.

“Put your fingers inside me. Please,” I relent, desperate for his touch.

“Such a good fucking girl.” His fingers dive inside me, stretching my walls, and I’m so wet they only hurt for a few seconds.

Pleasure envelops my body as soon as he starts curling his fingers in and out of me, slowly at first and then furiously.

“Where do you want my mouth, Hadley?” He continues to torture me until I’m seriously considering kicking him in the face.

“On my clit,” I surrender too quickly for my liking.

He groans in satisfaction. “Full sentence, baby.”

“Put your mouth on my clit, please.” I hate myself, but I need to come more than I need air right now, and I’m willing to swallow my pride if it means feeling his tongue again.

I nearly scream when he sucks the bundle of nerves between his teeth. His fingers don’t slow down, continuously pumping into me as he eats me out, twirling his tongue around the sensitive bud to the point of making my thighs shake.

I only realize I’ve gripped his hair and buried his face deep between my legs when he laps at my pussy and lets out a carnal laugh I feel in my stomach.

My impending orgasm creeps up on me faster than my body can handle, and I throw my head back with a quiet moan.

I tug on his hair harder, and he picks up the pace.

He pulls away a few seconds later, staring me dead in the eyes as he says, “Don’t come before the second verse.”

What?

That’s when his other hand lets go of my thigh and falls to the piano keys.

“What are you doing?” I ask, but his mouth is back on my clit the next second, and I take it he has no intention of answering me.

The melody he plays seems familiar, but it’s not until my orgasm reaches the point of no return that I recognize it.

He’s playing “I’m Still Yours.”

I can feel myself coming undone. “Kane, I’m—”

“Hold it.” He drives his fingers deeper inside me but abandons my clit, placing sharp kisses all over my pelvis so that I don’t come just yet.

“I can’t.” I claw at the piano beneath me, barely breathing as he plays our song.

At least, I’d like to think he wrote it about me.

I’m losing control by the time he gets to the chorus. The lyrics flash before my eyes, tugging at my heartstrings and self-control.

The moment the chorus ends, he drags his tongue up my slit and curls his fingers faster, allowing me to come all over his face.

And I do.

I come so hard I disconnect from my body, convulsing and reaching a level of pleasure I’m worried the human body can’t sustain.

I’m trying to steady my breathing for dear life, but all I can do is watch as my chest heaves furiously. I’m sure I’ve peaked until he scrapes his teeth against my clit a final time and takes me even higher than before, my juices dripping between my ass cheeks.

I can barely hold myself up, my orgasm fading and taking my strength with it. The arm I was leaning on flinches, and that seems to be Kane’s cue to slide my legs off his shoulders.

That just happened.

I knew I was naked while he had his face between my legs, but I wasn’t as aware of it as I am now. Is this the moment where I gather my clothes, dignity, and pride off the floor and run?

What exactly is a girl supposed to do after being given a mind-blowing orgasm on a piano?

I can tell he’s taken notice of my inner dialogue because he steps forward, grips my chin in one hand, and places a hard kiss on my mouth.

Next thing I know, he’s pulling me back into his arms like I’m weightless, wrapping my legs around his waist and walking out of the room.

I’m butt naked in the hallway. Drea and Scar could see Kane carrying me if they just opened their bedroom doors. I’ve never felt so vulnerable.

I circle his neck with my arms, leaning forward to whisper, “What are you doing?”

He positions his mouth next to my ear, his voice packed with need and bad intentions. “You didn’t think I was done with you, did you?”