Page 58
Story: King of Depravity
That’s when he whispers in my ear. “You’re the only woman for me, Chloe. There will never be another.” And then he pulls me up the bed and settles me under the covers, his body curling around mine.
I’ve spent most of my life alone. To be held like this, to be this close to Killian, is like a balm to a wound.
But also…it’s a danger that is like walking on a knife’s edge.
It’s my last thought before I fall asleep.
I wake in the morning, sore but satisfied.
Killian is still behind me, his arms tight around me. “Good morning,” he murmurs close to my ear.
“Good morning.” I smile a little, so comfortable I don’t want to move an inch.
“Painting today?”
“Sleeping,” I mutter back as he smiles into my hair.
“Should I make you something to eat?” he asks. That’s what pulls me awake as I turn my head around to look at him.
I touch his face, “No. I’m all right.” I know I need to revisit last night. I both feel closer to Killian and further away.
I’ve touched one of his sharp edges and I’m still smarting.
I close my eyes again, wondering if I might be able to go back to sleep. I will say one thing about Killian’s place. It’s so quiet and comfortable, I’ve slept better here than I have in years.
He kisses across my shoulder. “You said you wanted to get some stuff at your place?”
“Yeah. I have to pay rent too.”
“Why not give up the place?” he says, his hand skating over my hip. My lips purse, my eyes opening again. We are not ready for that. I’m not ready to be that tied to Killian, no matter how deep the feelings are getting.
“This is just for a few weeks, remember?”
“What time do you want to go over to the club?” he asks, as he pushes up on his elbow.
“Nine. That’s when the manager usually arrives for the ten o’clock opening.” I touch the bruises on my face. He’ll have a hard time arguing with my position.
But now, I’m awake and so I get out of bed, stretching before I start for the bathroom. Killian follows, turning on the shower while I brush my teeth.
These moments are so easy, I could forget the other side of Killian. “Have any work to do today?”
“I’ve got some paperwork that needs to be done,” he answers over his shoulder.
“Maybe I’ll paint then,” I start for the bathroom door. I need to pee, and I don’t think we’re at the stage where we go in front of each other.
“I’ll bring my stuff out to the counter and work while you do.”
I cock my head, looking at Killian. It’s the strangest thing. He started so cold and now he doesn’t even want to work in a separate room… “All right. Sounds good.”
We take a shower, the kind that takes forever and is thoroughly satisfying. Then we eat and start our Monday.
I’m making great progress on the piece, and I feel good about it. Killian sets up at the island, working the morning and afternoon away. At one point, he takes a call, disappearing into his office, where I hear the beeping of the fax machine.
As the sun sets, he stretches, picks up the phone and orders dinner. “Mind if I turn on the telly?”
“Not at all,” I say, assessing the shadowing I’m completing on the chin. It’s got to look strong, commanding, but I don’t want the look to be too harsh. The longer I know Killian, the more I feel his softer side.
I distantly hear the news playing as I mix some of the blue with black, dotting an almost stubble along the jaw. He somehow sports a constant five o’clock shadow.
I’ve spent most of my life alone. To be held like this, to be this close to Killian, is like a balm to a wound.
But also…it’s a danger that is like walking on a knife’s edge.
It’s my last thought before I fall asleep.
I wake in the morning, sore but satisfied.
Killian is still behind me, his arms tight around me. “Good morning,” he murmurs close to my ear.
“Good morning.” I smile a little, so comfortable I don’t want to move an inch.
“Painting today?”
“Sleeping,” I mutter back as he smiles into my hair.
“Should I make you something to eat?” he asks. That’s what pulls me awake as I turn my head around to look at him.
I touch his face, “No. I’m all right.” I know I need to revisit last night. I both feel closer to Killian and further away.
I’ve touched one of his sharp edges and I’m still smarting.
I close my eyes again, wondering if I might be able to go back to sleep. I will say one thing about Killian’s place. It’s so quiet and comfortable, I’ve slept better here than I have in years.
He kisses across my shoulder. “You said you wanted to get some stuff at your place?”
“Yeah. I have to pay rent too.”
“Why not give up the place?” he says, his hand skating over my hip. My lips purse, my eyes opening again. We are not ready for that. I’m not ready to be that tied to Killian, no matter how deep the feelings are getting.
“This is just for a few weeks, remember?”
“What time do you want to go over to the club?” he asks, as he pushes up on his elbow.
“Nine. That’s when the manager usually arrives for the ten o’clock opening.” I touch the bruises on my face. He’ll have a hard time arguing with my position.
But now, I’m awake and so I get out of bed, stretching before I start for the bathroom. Killian follows, turning on the shower while I brush my teeth.
These moments are so easy, I could forget the other side of Killian. “Have any work to do today?”
“I’ve got some paperwork that needs to be done,” he answers over his shoulder.
“Maybe I’ll paint then,” I start for the bathroom door. I need to pee, and I don’t think we’re at the stage where we go in front of each other.
“I’ll bring my stuff out to the counter and work while you do.”
I cock my head, looking at Killian. It’s the strangest thing. He started so cold and now he doesn’t even want to work in a separate room… “All right. Sounds good.”
We take a shower, the kind that takes forever and is thoroughly satisfying. Then we eat and start our Monday.
I’m making great progress on the piece, and I feel good about it. Killian sets up at the island, working the morning and afternoon away. At one point, he takes a call, disappearing into his office, where I hear the beeping of the fax machine.
As the sun sets, he stretches, picks up the phone and orders dinner. “Mind if I turn on the telly?”
“Not at all,” I say, assessing the shadowing I’m completing on the chin. It’s got to look strong, commanding, but I don’t want the look to be too harsh. The longer I know Killian, the more I feel his softer side.
I distantly hear the news playing as I mix some of the blue with black, dotting an almost stubble along the jaw. He somehow sports a constant five o’clock shadow.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 88
- Page 89
- Page 90
- Page 91