Page 43 of Unmask (Crew of Elmwood Public #2)

KREED

K aylor climbed into the car and immediately turned toward the window, her shoulders hunching inward like the weight of the world had settled there and was slowly crushing her from the inside out.

Her spine was rigid, and her hands were folded in her lap, holding herself together, as if she let go even for a second she might shatter into pieces too small to put back together.

I hated it. Hated seeing her like this, hated that I’d been part of what drove her to this breaking point.

The engine hummed beneath us as I reached for her, then stopped short, my hand hovering in the space between us as if I’d hit an invisible wall.

She looked so damn fragile sitting there, her reflection ghostlike in the window, and I didn’t know if touching her would help or make her break faster. The uncertainty was killing me.

Then I heard a soft, choked breath she tried to smother behind her hand.

Fuck this.

I slid across the seat without hesitation, reaching for her gently as if she were made of spun glass and might dissolve at the wrong touch. “Come here, little raven,” I murmured, my voice rough with emotion I couldn’t name.

Her head shook in automatic denial, but her resistance was weak. She glanced at me with eyes too bright, too glassy, and folded herself into my arms as if she’d been waiting for someone to say it was okay to fall apart.

My arms wrapped around her instinctively.

She trembled with the force of her grief, silent sobs shaking through her.

I held her tighter, one hand cradling the back of her head where her hair was silky soft against my palm, the other wrapped around her waist. She twisted the fabric of my hoodie hard enough that her knuckles pressed against my chest as I unbuckled her seat belt and pulled her onto my lap.

“It’s okay,” I murmured against her hair, breathing in the scent of her shampoo mixed with salt and fear. “I’ve got you.”

She buried her face into the curve of my neck, and with that surrender came the flood of emotions she’d been working so hard to keep wrapped up inside her.

Her tears were silent, but they soaked through my shirt.

Every shallow breath she took, every stiff shake of her shoulders, each one felt like a nail being driven into my goddamn ribs.

My hand stroked down her spine in long, slow movements, trying to soothe the tremors that kept rolling through her.

I pressed my lips to her temple, feeling the flutter of her pulse beneath the delicate skin, then to beneath her eyes where tears tracked silver lines, then to the corner of her mouth, brief, barely there touches but enough that her breath hitched and caught.

She looked up at me with those light-blue eyes, now shiny and red-rimmed, full of sadness.

Her cheeks were flushed pink from crying, her lips parted as she tried to catch her breath.

My hand found the curve of her jaw, my thumb tracing the line of her cheekbone as I tilted her face to mine.

Her palm settled over my chest, right where my heart was hammering hard enough that I was sure she could feel it.

The air between us grew charged. I wasn’t sure who leaned in first, only that the space between us got smaller until it disappeared entirely.

My breath mingled with hers, and I could feel the heat rolling off her skin, could taste the salt of her grief and the temptation buried beneath it, so sweet and dangerous and impossible to resist.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered against my lips. “I hate crying. I hate being weak.”

“You don’t ever have to apologize to me. And you’re not weak. You’re the strongest person I know.”

Her gaze dropped to my mouth, lingering there. “You can’t say things like that to me. It makes hating you so freaking hard.”

“Good—”

Her mouth closed over mine, and it was becoming my favorite thing when she stole my words with her lips.

The kiss was tentative at first, her lips trembling against mine, but with us, a quiet kiss was hardly enough.

She pressed closer, her mouth opening slightly as a soft sound escaped her throat that was part sob and part need.

Her hands fisted in my shirt, pulling me down to her.

As if I could ever deny her anything.

I kissed her back because I’d been selfishly craving her taste for weeks, the sweetness of her lips, the way she fit against me like she was made for this, and the few moments I’d stolen were hardly enough to feed the craving.

But even as my body responded, even as heat pooled low in my stomach and my fingers pressed into her waist, I wouldn’t take advantage of her. Not ever again.

I’d give us both a few minutes of distracted heaven before forcing us back to the darkness waiting for us outside this car. Let myself taste her sadness, her fire, her need all mixed together on her tongue. Let her feel through the desperate press of my mouth how badly I wanted her.

Her tongue traced the seam of my lips, hesitant but hungry, and I opened for her with a low groan rumbling through my chest. When she shifted on my lap, pressing closer until there was no space left between us, the rapid beat of her heart fluttered against my chest.

My hand tangled in her hair, my fingers threading through the silky strands as I angled her head to deepen the kiss.

She melted into me, all soft curves and warm skin, her body molding to mine.

The sound she made when my teeth grazed her bottom lip was broken and needy, and it nearly undid every good intention I had.

I wasn’t used to denying myself things I wanted, and God, did I want her.

Neither one of us gave Evan a thought, so absorbed in each other.

Did I want to undress her and take her in the back of the car? With every fiber in my body, but I couldn’t let this happen. Not like this. Not when she was using me as an escape from pain instead of choosing me for who I was.

I had to pull away even though it felt like tearing something vital out of my chest. Resting my forehead against hers, our breaths came ragged and hot as they mingled in the small space between us.

Her eyes were still closed, her lips parted and swollen from our kiss, and she looked so beautiful it hurt.

“Little raven,” I said softly. I brushed my thumb across her bottom lip, feeling the dampness there, lingering on the soft fullness before trailing down to trace the line of her jaw.

Her eyes fluttered open, confusion starting to shadow the desire that had been burning there moments before. Her brows drew together in a way that made me want to smooth the lines with my lips.

“I won’t take advantage of you again,” I murmured even as I wondered what the fuck was wrong with me. “You can use me all you want, but it has to be your choice.”

“Use you—” She shoved at my chest, desire morphing into anger. The line was so easy to cross. I knew. “Is that what you think I’m doing?”

My brows lifted. “Aren’t you? It took away the numbness, didn’t it? Made you feel something that wasn’t guilt and anguish. Don’t get me wrong. I want you. Turns out, I always want you.”

She sagged against me like all the fight had gone out of her, her body soft and pliant in my arms. “I never thought there would be a day when Kreed Corvo rejected me.”

“This is the opposite of rejection, little raven.” My arms tightened around her, one hand stroking down her spine in slow, soothing motions. “This is the most selfless decision I’ve ever made. If you were any other girl, I wouldn’t be here having this conversation.”

“Why me?” she whispered, the question so quiet I almost missed it.

“Why not you?” I countered, tilting her chin up so she met my eyes. “Why wouldn’t it be you?”

Her lips parted like she wanted to argue, to list all the reasons why she wasn’t worth consideration, but no words came out. Just a soft exhale ghosting across my skin that made my heart squeeze. “What have you done with Kreed?”

She had to stop saying my name all breathless and wondering.

I was on the verge of throwing this good-guy act out the window and taking full possession of those lips, giving her exactly what she wanted and not giving a shit that we were in my car.

“I don’t fucking know,” I admitted, “but this has to be your fault somehow.”

Her chuckle was soft and short, like she didn’t want to allow herself to feel anything but guilt and misery.

It vanished from her lips as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by that haunted look that made me want to hunt down everyone who’d ever hurt her.

I guess that would include me. Make that make sense.

Her head came to rest on my shoulder, the rhythmic in and out of her breaths caressing the side of my neck, a test of my rapidly fraying will.

I couldn’t pinpoint exactly when shit had changed for me, when my concern had shifted from protecting myself to protecting her, from putting my family first to making her my priority.

All I knew was that, somewhere along the way, she’d become the most important thing in my world, and I’d break every law before I let anyone hurt her again.

The second the message came through Raine’s burner, the buzz cutting through the quiet night air, I knew we didn’t have time to waste.

We were still parked outside Brock’s house, the engine ticking as it cooled, while Kaylor was asleep upstairs in her room.

The house stood dark except for the single lamp Mason had left burning in the front window, a signal that all was well.

Mason was inside with her, stretched out on the couch with explicit instructions to stay the fuck out of her room unless the damn house was on fire.

I hated leaving her, but I’d made her a promise I intended to keep, which meant that despite every instinct screaming at me to go upstairs and crawl into bed with her, I had a lead to follow.