Page 76 of Killian (West Bend Saints 4)

  “Say it’s not so,” I said, rolling my eyes.

  “I have two tickets out of Denver,” he said. “To New York.”

  “Do we have a mark?”

  “Oscar has some possibilities, but nothing that’s especially struck our fancy,” he said. “But…You don’t get your ticket until I hear about the man who’s the reason for you missing the meet.”

  I shook my head. “Iver, I don’t want to talk about it,” I said wearily. “It’s - I don’t even know what it is. It’s done, I think. I’m not sure.”

  Iver leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “Tell me everything,” he said. “I’m not leaving.”

  So I told him the entire story- the history of Silas and me from the beginning to end. The whole time, Iver ate steak and I nibbled at the edge of my plate, my stomach churning. They did serve wine, and Iver ordered a glass of the house red wine, grimacing and declaring it unpalatable as soon as it hit his lips.

  When I finished, Iver leaned back in his chair and looked at me carefully. “Well, it’s settled.”

  “What’s settled?” I felt exhausted, the toll of the entire emotional day finally getting to me.

  “What should be done.” Iver wiped the sides of his mouth with his napkin.

  “What are you talking about?” I asked, feeling cranky. “I’m not taking love advice from the man who never spends more than one night with a woman.”

  “I wasn’t talking about your love life,” he said. “I was talking about the town. I’ve decided what needs to be done about that.”

  “No, no, no,” I said, holding up my hand. “You’re not bringing Oscar and Emir here.”

  “Of course I am, darling,” he said, leaning in close, his voice low. “And we’ll just have to grift the town.”

  I shook my head. “Been there, done that,” I said. “Besides, it’s not the town that’s the problem.”

  Iver waved his hand. “I know that,” he said. “But grifting the town sounds considerably more dramatic than grifting the sheriff and the mayor and the mining company. Stop trying to deny me my fun.”

  “Perfect idea,” I said, sipping my coffee. “Especially since you’ve been seen in public with me now.”

  Iver shrugged. “I’m behind the scenes this time, then,” he said. “Or you are. Either one. Details to be worked out later.”

  “I’m not on board with it, Iver.”

  “Well, then make up with your boyfriend and get on board,” Iver said. “I don’t find the concept of monogamy to be that appealing, but you’re clearly smitten with him.”

  “I’m not smitten with him,” I protested weakly. But I was. I knew I was.

  “Do I personally think you should retire from the game? No,” Iver said.

  “I didn’t say I was retiring,” I said. “Don’t even breathe that word.”

  But Iver held up his hand again. “Let me finish, darling,” he said. “You will only ever hear me utter these words one time, and if you ever tell anyone I spoke them, I’ll deny everything.”

  “This I have to hear,” I said.

  “I was in love once,” he said, and when I opened my mouth to talk, Iver shushed me. “I was married. Don’t look at me like it’s the most bizarre thing you’ve ever heard. It was a long time ago. She died. We were only together for a year before she passed, and that year was the happiest I’ve ever been, even though the last six months of it involved being by her bedside in a hospital and watching her waste away into nothing, literally a skeleton of who she was. I wouldn’t change it for anything in the world.”

  “Iver, I-”

  “Hush, darling,” he said. “I’m imparting my wisdom right now. It’s rare, finding someone who understands you. And it’s even rarer when it comes to people like you and me. Someone who can cut through all the bullshit, who sees you despite all the masks you wear? It’s impossible. When you find that, you hang onto it. It doesn’t matter if it’s for a moment, or if it’s for a lifetime.”

  “I don’t know if I can, Iver,” I said. “What if there’s nothing there, underneath it all?”

  “Everyone’s afraid, darling,” he said. “And we all feel like frauds. And everyone wears masks- grifters just happen to wear them more visibly than others. Silas sees you for who you are, and that’s something.”

  “I’m terrified,” I said.

  “Good,” Iver said. He sipped his coffee, and then grimaced. “That’s how you know it’s love, by the way. Because it scares the hell out of you.”

  38

  Silas

  I sat in the armchair, dozing even though it wasn’t that late. The knock on the front door nearly made me jump out of my skin.

  When I pulled it open, Tempest spoke before I could.

  “I don’t want you being in a goddamned fight,” she said. “Because I don’t want to lose you, okay?”

  I nodded. “Okay.”

  “Okay, like you’re acknowledging that you’re hearing what I’m saying, or okay you agree?”

  “Okay, like I understand I was being an idiot for being reckless,” I said. “And that I was being a jackass earlier, walking out in the middle of a fight. And, fucking hell, for fighting with you, too.”

  “Both of us were being stupid,” she said. “I’m not used to any of this, you know. I’m not used to being with anyone. It’s only ever been you. There was no one after you.”

  “No one that meant as much,” I said.

  “That too,” she said. “But, no, I mean, completely literally, there has never been anyone else but you. Not a hookup, not a date.”

  Seven years and she hadn’t been with anyone but me? This girl, who had to have men throwing themselves at her right and left, who was so beautiful I could hardly think straight? Shit, she’d been at the hotel with that guy from her grifter team, the one who looked like he stepped off the pages of a magazine, and I’d wanted to punch him in the fucking face immediately upon seeing him, because I thought they were together. This girl hadn’t been with anyone but me. It was ridiculous.

  I’d have laughed out loud, except she seemed so damn earnest about it.

  “Say something, Silas,” she said. “I tell you something goddamn personal and you’re staring at me like I have two heads. My hands are shaking.”

  I didn’t speak. I stepped forward, my hand at the base of her head, and pulled her toward me. I kissed her, my mouth enveloping hers, wanting nothing more than all of her. There was nothing I could fucking say right now. I had no words.

  What I wanted to say was just too much.

  So I picked her up and carried her inside, walking straight to the bedroom, where I set her down in front of me. I didn’t say anything as I peeled off her clothing and she stood completely naked in front of me. I didn’t say anything as I stripped off my clothing and stood naked in front of her.

  And I didn’t say anything as I began to apply kisses down her neck, over her breasts, down her stomach, or as I knelt between her legs and covered her pussy with my mouth. I tasted her on my tongue, but all of my senses drank her in as she came on me, clinging to my head and pulling my face into her.

  I barely stopped to let her catch her breath before I picked her up in my arms, even though the bed was only a few feet away, and carried her to the bed, laying her gently down.

  “Silas,” she whispered, finally breaking the stillness between us. “I need you.”

  I need you.

  She could have been talking about sex or more than that, I didn’t care. Arching against me as I kissed her, she moaned softly into my mouth when I pressed the head of my cock against her entrance. I paused for a minute, savoring the sensation of her wetness on bare skin, before I plunged myself into her willing pussy.

  This time, I made love to her with long, slow thrusts, listening to her shallow breaths, the way she whimpered as she became more aroused. I kissed her neck, just under her earlobe, the place that gave her goose bumps and made her moan with need.

  “You are so da

mn wet,” I whispered.

  “That’s what you do to me,” she moaned, arching against me, her hands on my waist, pulling me into her harder.

  “Is this what you want?” I asked as I drove into her so deeply I could swear I was going to drive through her.

  “Oh God, Silas.” Her voice was hoarse, her breath ragged. “Harder, yes.”

  I thrust into her again and again, deeper with each stroke. “You are so swollen,” I said. “So tight.”

  She cried out my name again. “I’m so close,” she gasped. “You’re going to make me come.”

  I leaned down, cupping one of her breasts in my hand and drawing it to my mouth, sucking on her erect nipple and grazing it with my teeth.

  “Shit, Silas,” she said. “Make me come. Please.”

  I could barely hold out. I kissed her hard, driving into her again and again. “Do you want me to come in you?”

  “Shit.” Her breath was ragged, and she looked at me, her mouth open. Panting. It was the panting that was going to do me in.

  “Tell me how much you want it,” I said.

  “Silas,” she whispered.

  “Yeah, baby,” I could barely think about anything except how much I wanted to come inside her. “Tell me.”

  She moaned. “I love you Silas.”

  Those three words.

  I thrust inside her one last time, letting go.

  39

  Tempest

  I looked up at Silas, from where I lay with my head pressed up against his chest and he looked down at me. “Do you remember what you said, or was it just one of those things you say when you’re about to come?” he asked. “Like calling out the wrong name?”

  I laughed, pulling myself up to sit beside him, my hand tracing its way lazily around his chest. “Does that happen to you a lot?” I asked. “Calling out the wrong name during sex?”

  Silas grinned. “You don’t have to worry about that,” he said. “I’m a one woman kind of guy. I know where I belong.” He traced his finger over my shoulder, across the outline of my tattoo. “Kind of like that swallow on your shoulder. You got that bit about the sailors right, you know. Sailors did wear them to show how far they’d traveled. But they were also for good luck - to guide them back to where they belonged.”

  I smiled. “I didn’t know that part,” I said. “But yeah, I remember what I said, and I meant it.”

  Silas nodded. “Good,” he said.

  “That’s all you have to say?” I asked. “I tell you I love you and you say, good?”

  Silas grinned. “I just wanted to hear you say it again, Tempest,” he said.

  I slapped him on the chest. “You’re an ass.”

  Silas laughed. “But I’m your ass, now.”

  I slid off the bed as Silas protested, making a half-hearted attempt to grab me, but really just lying lazily in the afterglow of the sex. “On second thought,” I said. “Maybe I should take it all back.”

  Silas jumped up, and I squealed as he reached for me, grabbing my wrist and pulling me against him. “Don’t ever say that,” he said. “You’re stuck with me now.”

  “Oh yeah?” I asked.

  He pulled away from me. “That’s right,” he said. “I meant what I said before. I’m not fucking dating you. I don’t want to see if you’re right for me, or whatever the hell regular people do. Our history is too complicated for that. You’re it for me. I’ve known it since we were teenagers, and I know it now. You’re mine. I want you to be mine. I love you. I have since I met you. I have for the last seven years.”

  “What are you asking me?” I asked, my heart pounding in my chest. “I’m not a white picket fence kind of girl, Silas.”

  Silas stepped away from me, and for a minute, I thought I’d hurt him, but he walked to his bureau, opened the top drawer, and pulled out a little box. My breath caught in my throat as he walked back over to me, still naked. “I’ve had this since we were kids,” he said. “We talked about getting married, but I was going to actually ask you, you know. Before you left.”

  “Silas.” I didn’t know what to say. We’d talked about getting married, but I never thought he’d actually gone and bought a ring, let alone kept it this whole time.

  “You might hate it and think it’s stupid,” he said. “It’s nothing pricey. In fact, it’s pretty damn cheap. But it meant something to me back then.”

  He opened the box and held out the ring. “I was saving up for it, back then. I had it made for you. It’s Pietersite. It’s this rare stone, but it’s not precious or anything. I got it because it’s called a tempest stone, because it has these swirls in it that look like a storm, you know?”

  “Silas, it’s beautiful,” I said.

  “It’s stupid and corny,” he said.

  “Stop talking and kiss me,” I ordered, and he did it. When he finally broke the kiss, he looked down at me.

  “You did understand that I was asking you to marry me, right?” he said.

  I laughed. “Yeah, Silas, I got it,” I said. “I mean, it was a naked proposal and not down on one knee or anything, but…”

  “We don’t exactly have a traditional relationship,” he said. “But if you want, I can get down on my knees again.”

  I laughed and smacked his hand away as it traveled down my abdomen, heading for its destination between my legs. “You’re sweet one minute, filthy the next.”

  He leaned in and kissed me, groping my ass cheek with one hand. “Get used to it, bright eyes,” he said. “Because that’s never going to change.”

  Epilogue

  Silas

  “It’s really quite quaint,” Oscar said, looking around. “Cold, of course. But quaint.”

  “Connectivity is shit up here,” Emir complained. “It’s below zero. It has to be, right?”

  “Thank you all for coming out here,” Tempest said, in her excessively patient voice, the one she used with me a lot. “Even though you’re bitching and moaning about everything.”

  Oscar smiled. “West Bend is lovely,” he said. “Picturesque. It reminds me of the Swiss Alps. Besides, Emir should learn to ski while he’s here. Get some fresh air.”

  Emir paused, standing up from where he’d been digging around in a case. “Oh, no, no,” he said. “I’m not skiing. This grift doesn’t involve me skiing, does it?”

  I tightened my grip on Tempest’s waist and drew her in close to me, laughing. “I can teach you,” I said. “I’m teaching her.”

  “I already skied pretty well before you, thank you very much,” she protested.

  “Oh, sure you did, sweetheart,” I said, kissing the top of her head. Then I shook my head no and mouthed the word, exaggerated, and Tempest pulled away, punching me on the arm.