Butterflies fluttered in my belly. I wanted to ask him what exactly he felt, but I wasn’t brave enough. Instead I teased, “And how long have you been planning to seduce me with your eye smolder?”
His lips twitched. “Eye smolder?”
“Yes. Eye smolder.” I turned onto my side, bracing my elbow on the bed and my hand on my head. “You smoldered me.”
“I didn’t know that was one of my special powers.”
“Well, it is.”
“I didn’t plan on anything. You know I didn’t.”
“I guess what I really mean is . . . how long have you wanted to throw me on the floor and fuck my brains out?”
His brows drew together. “Is that what I did?”
“Don’t worry, I liked it. Or did my almighty orgasm not make that clear?”
He flashed me a wicked grin. “No, that was very clear. And I don’t know. I don’t know when admiring you, your music, turned into something else.”
I nodded because I understood. “I don’t know when it turned into this either. But it happened. And you haven’t looked at me blankly and told me it can’t happen again . . . so what now?”
“Do you want me to say that?”
“No. I want it to happen again,” I admitted. “I feel . . .” How much did I say without scaring him away?
Killian reached out and drew his fingertips softly down my cheek to trace my lips. “You feel?”
I held his gaze and whispered, “I feel.”
He squeezed his eyes closed briefly and then sat up, sliding his hand around the nape of my neck to pull me to him. This time his kiss was soft, lush, and so sweet, I found myself melting into him. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and shifted so I was straddling him. He wrapped his arm around my back, pulling me flush to his body. I luxuriated in the joy of being held against the solid, strong weight of him.
We kissed. Learning every curve of each other’s lips, every dance of our tongues, our taste.
It was the first time in forever that I didn’t feel alone.
“What are we doing?” I panted as we finally broke for breath. I leaned my forehead against his and closed my eyes, sending a wish out to the universe that this moment could last forever.
“I don’t know,” he answered, giving my waist a squeeze. “I only know I don’t want to stop.”
“But the . . .” I didn’t want to mention the album. I didn’t want the reminder of our bargain.
“We could keep it a secret.” He pulled back so I had to look into his eyes. “See each other in secret until the album is out and the dust settles. Then no one will give a fuck if we’re seeing each other. My uncle won’t care as long as we’re making the label money. And I’m not famous, Skylar. Your fans won’t care.”
He was looking that far ahead? This really wasn’t just sex to him? The question tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop it.
Killian frowned at me in displeasure. “Do you really think I’m the kind of man who would risk my career and yours for a simple fuck?”
I shifted on his lap, feeling the evidence of his desire. “Attraction can be a powerful thing. And I know about Yasmin and your many nonstarter relationships.”
His scowl deepened to a glower. “Who told you about Yasmin?”
“More to the point,” I loosened my hold on him, “why didn’t you tell me about her?”
His grip on me tightened, pulling me back into him. “Because it was a casual relationship that didn’t mean anything and didn’t go anywhere.”
“And you didn’t want me to know you had a girlfriend?”
“I didn’t want you to worry that there was a woman waiting for me to come home when I wanted you to be in the moment with me, working on your songs. And she wasn’t waiting on me to come home because we never lived together.” His hand tightened around my nape, his expression fierce. “I broke it off with her when I realized that the first person I thought of every morning when I woke up was the same person I thought of last before I went to sleep.”
Realization made me melt into him. “I knew you cared about me.”
“What I feel is a little stronger than that, Skylar.” He stared at me with pure need. “You’re mine.”
A thrill shot through me, tingles and heat prickling my skin. I shook my head, holding staunchly to my independence. “Micah used to say that too, but I don’t belong to anyone.”
He let out a low growl, like a freaking caveman, and flipped me onto my back, pressing me into the bed. “If you were his, my dick wouldn’t have been inside you thirty minutes ago. You’re mine, Skylar Finch. I think somehow I’ve always felt like you were mine. That’s why I didn’t go after Jonathan Welsh myself because I would have killed him,” he hissed. “Killed him for hurting you.”
“Killian . . .” I shook my head, feeling unsure, confused, wondering why a part of me wanted to scream in revolt while another was howling with exultation.
“And I’m yours,” he softened, brushing his mouth gently over mine. “Yours.”
Mine.
Hadn’t I thought that before? Hadn’t I thought that in the bar when those girls were eyeing what was mine?
I slid my hands up his shoulders to clasp his familiar face. My feelings for him were complicated. I had feelings I didn’t want to acknowledge because they would ruin the bliss of being with him like this. Of having Killian O’Dea look at me like I meant the world to him.
A man who did not love easily.
And he wanted to belong to me.
“You’re mine,” I agreed. “I’m yours.”
Killian kissed me hungrily in answer. A kiss that led to us shedding our clothes so he could slide inside me slowly and deeply. We took our time. We touched and stroked and kissed.
While he moved inside me, he stared deep into my eyes, and although the words were never said . . . I felt loved.
SO ATTUNED TO KILLIAN, I knew even in sleep when he was pulling away from me. The bed moved and the sound of rustling filtered into my conscience.
I blinked slowly, my eyelids feeling heavy like I hadn’t had enough sleep, and I turned my head on the pillow to see Killian sitting on the bed in his jeans, tugging on his shoes.
Light filtered into the room through the split in the curtains.
Was he not going to wake me?
Did he regret last night and had decided to sneak out?
I groaned sleepily and sat up, not about to let him have the satisfaction of hightailing it out of the apartment without an awkward confrontation.
He looked over his shoulder at me and smiled softly. It made my tense muscles relax. “I was trying not to wake you.”
I pushed my fingers through my hair to get it out of my face. “What time is it?”
Killian stood and rounded the bed to pick up his T-shirt. “Back of eight.”
Hearing the disgruntled tone, I couldn’t help but grin. “Have I fucked with your schedule, Mr. O’Dea?”
He gave me a wicked grin that I was quickly growing addicted to and then tugged his T-shirt over his head. “Quite literally.”
“What time do you usually get up in the morning?”
He hesitated, as if unsure about telling me. Then, “Five.”
Horrified, I gaped. “Why?”
Killian chuckled. “I like to swim and then hit the gym before my day starts.”
“I knew it.” I eyed him as he came toward me. “No man has a body like yours without working for it.”
“Aye, well, some of us aren’t lucky enough to wake up as sexy as you without having to work for it.” He braced his hands on the bed in front of me, his dark eyes dancing. I was at the point of squirming under such intense focus when he murmured, “You have the most extraordinary eyes. The first time you really looked at me, I was stunned.”
I smiled, feeling stupidly giddy at the idea that even as a homeless waif, I’d had the power to stun Killian O’Dea. “I never would’ve guessed that.”
“Well, it’s true. I knew you had different-colored eyes because when I was researching you, there were a few internet articles about it. But you can’t truly appreciate how beautiful they are until they’re staring back at you.” He smoldered. “Or how good it feels to gaze into them as you come around my cock.”