Page 20

CHAPTER 19

CRESSIDA

" A re you sad that it's just me coming with today?" Kim walked beside me with his hand on my lower back.

I shot him a look as we walked toward the front entrance of Snatched. Sometimes we took the side entrance, sometimes we parked in the parking garage, but my favorite way to go into the club was through the front. It also seemed smart to switch up our routine. "Why would you say that?"

Kim shrugged. "Joaquin had something he wanted to take care of and Atlas joined him. You've gotten pretty close to Atlas." He glanced away, as we entered the main room.

It was morning, so it was empty except for one staff member stocking boxes behind the bar.

I pulled him to a stop so he faced me. "Kim, are you...are you jealous?" I tried to keep my voice as kind as possible. If he was, I did not want to laugh at him or make him feel less than. I knew how that felt, and I wouldn't do it to him.

He wouldn't meet my gaze, staring over my head toward the bar.

"Kim?"

He released a beleaguered sigh, then grabbed my hand, tugging me toward the hallway. He didn't stop until we were at the performance rooms, opening the door to Three and motioning me inside.

This was the masked room, with black lights hanging everywhere and mounted on the walls. They were all turned off now, with only the exit lights glowing.

"What's wrong, Kim? Is this really about Atlas?"

He wrapped his arms around me, his heart pounding against my cheek. "I love you, Beasty."

"I love you too." Even knowing he was upset, it felt good to say those words. Words that had been kept from me my entire life.

"I just–I don't care if you're with the others. And I know I was the one pushing you away but–" he wheezed and squeezed me tighter.

Pushing against his chest, I tipped my face up to see him. "Kim. I don't have favorites. Is that what you're worried about?"

The red glow sharpened his cheeks and showcased the hollows. He really was beautiful.

"I'm not enough for you and–"

"Stop!" I regretted it as soon as the word fell from my lips, and I pressed a finger to his mouth. "Don't say that Kim," I said in a softer voice. "It's not about being enough for me or not. You four were always it for me. Each of you are different and irreplaceable with the other. I couldn't choose between you if I tried."

A wisp of a thought rose to the surface, and I swallowed. "Is that what you want? Me to choose you only?"

"No! No." He dropped his forehead to mine, sliding his hands up between my shoulder blades. "Absolutely not. I just need to know that you love me as much as you love them."

"Kim," I breathed, kissing the corner of his mouth. "I love you all the same but differently." This was so hard to explain, but Kim needed reassurance so I had to try. "You're the one I loved first. I know you the best."

"But you don't, Beasty." His words were ugly as he tried to yank away from me, but I hugged him tighter.

"What do you mean?"

"I lie. Almost every word out of my mouth is a lie. Even the face I show people is a lie. If I know a specific expression will get what I want, that's what I use. If I know dominance or submissive vibes will do the trick," he snapped his fingers, "then that's what I do. It's all a lie."

I–

"When have you lied to me?"

"All the fucking time." The harsh tone was jarring coming from Kim, but I refused to let him go.

"Tell me. What have you lied about?" How did I even feel about this? I couldn't say I didn't know it on some level, but to think everything he'd ever told me was a lie...

"Atlas isn't afraid of heights, and he never fell into a Komodo dragon enclosure.” Kim froze. “Once, I told you a woman was obsessed with Geckos." He twisted to the side.

I nodded. What else was I supposed to do? I vaguely remembered those things. At the time, I thought they'd been fantastical, but I wasn't sure I believed him. I wasn't sure I knew he had lied either.

Did this change anything? How I saw him? Who he was to me?

"Say something, please." He cupped my shoulders.

"Why do you lie?" I gulped. It sounded like an accusation, not understanding like I'd wanted.

He deflated and stepped back. For some reason, I let him.

"I don't know. I've always done it."

"Since you were at that house in West Virginia?"

"Yes." It was barely more than a whisper.

But it was all starting to fall into place for me. These boys, they weren't like anyone else. They'd been through hell and back and it had marked them. Look at Lake and his obsession with pain. Or Joaquin with his gambling addiction.

Well, he might have been a gambler no matter how his life had started. He was just that good with numbers. His drinking was a better analogy.

Atlas was obsessive and mean when the mood struck him. Kim had always seemed different than them. Softer. Not as affected. I thought it was because he was the youngest. That they'd sheltered him. But instead, he was telling me something very different.

I would bet anything that he'd started lying so he didn't have to face the truth. Could that have turned into a compulsion? Why not?

"Do you love me? Is that real?"

"Of course!" He seemed affronted, and I smiled.

"What about the others? Do you care about them?"

"You know I do, Beasty. Stop with that nonsense." He took several more steps away, toward the stage in the center.

"What about how you love to decorate and shop?"

"That's all true too." He was quieter this time. Pensive.

"Mm-hmm." I followed him. "What about when we lost our virginity together? You wanted to do that with me? Make love with me?" Saying those words like that felt awkward, foreign. I didn't talk like that. Yet making love was what we had done.

"Beasty," he snapped. "Now you're just being stupid."

"Am I?"

Kim’s back hit the stage as I edged closer. I raised my arms to bracket him against it.

"You're trying to tell me that I can't trust anything you say, that I don't really know you. I know you better than you think."

His breath came quicker as I pressed against him. "Why do you think that?"

"Because I've seen you put on a fake face. With the dancers, with Gio and that man at the Hot Spot. I know when you're telling stories, for the most part. But even if I didn't, your body doesn't lie." I reached down, wrapped my fingers around his hard cock as much as I could through his slacks.

"I know when you want me." I gave him a firm stroke before I worked his pants open. "I can tell from how your breath catches and the way you can't meet my eyes sometimes. Those are things that never lie."

Kim moaned as I stroked him. He was so hot in my hand, hard yet smooth.

"You're not disgusted by me?"

"Why would I be?" I didn't stop working him over. Instead, I pulled him completely out of his pants and lowered myself until I was mouth-level with his cock.

"Because I'm a liar."

"You're perfect just as you are. I wouldn't change anything about you."

He cried out as a little precum leaked from his tip and he throbbed in my hand.

Knowing my words, my acceptance of him, had that strong of an effect was an aphrodisiac. I slipped my hand into my pants, aiming straight for my clit as I sucked him into my mouth.

Kim cared about what I thought. He cared about me. More than that, my words wouldn't matter so much if he didn't want me here with him. That was all I wanted.

I could throw away the club, the house, literally every material thing the boys seemed to cling to, as long as we had these moments.

I could also embrace those things as long as we had these truths between us.

The salt of him hit my tongue and I moaned, twisting my hand around the base as I took as much of him in my mouth as I could.

"I can't, Beasty." His voice was strangled as he grabbed my arms to pull me up. "I want to be inside you."

Releasing him with a pop, I rose. He didn't waste any time as he lifted me, setting me on the stage and yanking on my pants. His movements were fevered and out of control as he stripped me down.

I loved every second of it.

My pants caught on my shoe, and he yanked, pulling them both off. He spread my legs, angled his cock, and thrust inside.

He groaned as I gasped. I wanted to feel his skin. I needed that extra bit of connection. As he pistoned his hips, I tore at his shirt, popping buttons off as I pushed it off his shoulders. He didn't even notice, yanking me into him with each forceful thrust.

I was a riot of sensations. The tug of him inside me. The luxurious material of his shirt gripped in my fists. The labored breaths between us and the subtle cologne radiating from his skin. It was a blur yet so crystalline clear.

With one hand, I strummed my clit as I wrapped the other around his back, anchoring myself to his hot, sweat-slicked skin.

"Kim," I cried as I started that aching descent into blissful oblivion.

"I love you. I love you so much, Beasty. That's true. That's my truth," he kept saying over and over again as his fingers gripped my ass so hard I'd have bruises.

"I love you too." I quaked in his arms as I broke apart.

Through the haze of pleasure, Kim kept saying, "Don't leave me. Please, Beasty, don't leave me again."

My eyes misted over as I folded myself around Kim. The pleasure lingered, but so did the heartache.

"I'm sorry, Kim." I kissed the side of his face. His temple. His cheek. His jaw. Until he raised his face and I sealed my lips to his. "I'm so fucking sorry."

He nodded, not saying anything else. For minutes we lost ourselves in dark kisses and desperate touches.

The black lights flicked on, and whoever it was cursed. "Sorry!" They ran, the door banging behind them.

With the lights still casting a dark purple glow over us, Kim leaned back. Neither of us had had the energy to care when the man interrupted us.

"I feel like I ran a marathon, and now I need a nap," he said ruefully.

Laughing, I tried to fix his shirt, but there was no use. It wouldn't stay together. He bent over, picking up my pants and shaking them out. My shoes went flying and he said, "Oops."

We both fell into giggling fits. Strange how we could go from raging lust to clogging emotions, and now to amusement. Like we cracked some kind of code in life. Or we were cracked. Either was possible.

"You're right. I'm drained, but I think in a good way." I hopped off the stage and stepped into my underwear as he held them out. Then the pants. After he buttoned them, he grabbed my shoes and slipped them over my feet.

They were flats made of recycled plastic. Apparently trendy, but also comfortable and helpful to the environment. It seemed easier to wear these than the expensive black loafers that lined my closet shelves. He'd added a few pairs of heels, but not many, as if he'd known I'd hate them.

"You've been wearing my clothes," he murmured as he stood, checking my outfit and making sure I was all sorted.

"I realized something." I took his hand, swinging it between us. It was something so simple. I'd seen hundreds of couples do this at school and on the street. So innocent, and something about it just made me happy.

"What?"

"I was fighting the wrong battles. I still won't wear some of the outrageous things we already decided to toss, but I will wear the things I like..."

"And?"

"Since I've been working at Snatched, the nicer clothes help my confidence." It was hard to admit, but it was true. "People take me more seriously."

His face lit up. "I told you, Beasty. Clothing is a tool. It's like armor, and it can be used in so many different ways. I can show you. You want people to take you seriously, a black simple suit all the way. You want to show people that you'll cut their throats if they even think about offering you a sour deal, the So Kates are what you want."

He pulled me to the door, speaking animatedly about how he would style me for each situation. It was overwhelming, and overstimulating, considering what just happened, but I couldn't interrupt him.

Mainly since Kim seemed truly happy like he'd lost ten years of stress.

No matter what he said, this was the real him. The man behind the lies. He could say he lied to everyone, but I doubted he lied to the guys. Well, I bet he did, they just knew his tells and knew him enough to know when he was pulling their leg. I wanted to be the same.

It was possible. Even now, I knew enough about Kim to know when he was telling the absolute truth.

He opened the door and light streamed in from the hallway. We stepped out and he came to an abrupt stop, his face losing its warmth.

I followed his gaze to see what had killed his joy, ready to rage on his behalf but froze.

In the hallway, walking with Holly, one of the day managers, was a man I'd recognize anywhere.

He was a few inches taller than me, with light brown hair brushed to the side. Dressed in a decent suit that was nothing like the stylish clothes the boys wore. Faint crow’s feet surrounded his eyes as if he smiled often.

Books .

Holly said something to him, and he nodded, watching the floor. Then he glanced up, and his brow crinkled when he saw Kim with his shirt hanging open.

He stopped walking altogether when his gaze landed on me.

"Cressida?" He said my name like he knew I'd be here. Not with the surprise I would have expected running into him in a hallway at Snatched.

"Books?" I squeaked, rubbing my sweaty palms on my pants. I tried to pull away from Kim, but he gripped my hand tighter.

"Mr. Kim?" Holly asked tentatively as she turned her body so that she could see both Books and us. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Holly. Who is this you're escorting back here during closed hours?" Kim raised himself up, his expression stern and his tone glacial.

This was one of those faces he told me about, but why use it now? Why had he stopped when Books hadn't even noticed us?

He knew who this was. The question was whether he’d always known, or if it was only after Bishop helped me save them.

"Um..." She glanced at me, looking for help. I had none for her. Since the time I saw Books walking through the club, I'd wondered why he was here. I'd just forgotten with everything else happening. "He's helping Mr. Amaya with something."

What the…

"You work with Joaquin?" I stepped forward.

"Cressida, I'm actually here today to see you." Books cleared his throat as his gaze skated over Kim and Holly. "Can we talk? In private?"

"No. You know Joaquin?" When I'd been in his office all those years ago, he'd known who the boys were, but he didn't act like he knew them. My chest burned from this new knowledge. Why did this feel like a betrayal?

"Only in the last year. There was an opportunity that worked for all parties." He was still watching the other two. "I'd really like to take you to lunch–"

"Why?" I asked.

"Why what?"

"Why are you here now, acting like me being here is a surprise. If you were working with Joaquin, following the club's opening, you would have known I was here. Why wouldn't you come see me? Why did you pretend you didn't know them when I called?"

"I didn't pretend anything. You didn't ask, and it wasn't the right time."

"Why now?" I repeated.

Books sighed.