Living in Sin (Living In…) (14 page)

Kahu buried his face in her neck as the orgasm descended like a hammer blow on the back of his head, splintering him like china, and he was shaking and shaking and shaking.

It felt like there was an air bubble in his chest preventing him from breathing. All he could do was lie there, the scent of her skin, flowers and sex, the heat of her body around him. Her hands moved on his back, stroking up and down his spine.

What the fuck just happened?

He had no idea. He’d never felt like this before during sex, not with anyone, even Anita.

Lily didn’t say anything and he was glad because he didn’t want to have to think of how to reply. Her fingertips trailed up and down, and he debated just lying there for the foreseeable future and not thinking. Not feeling anything but her fingers on his skin.

It was uncomfortable. Made him feel like with every pass she was taking off yet another layer of his soul.

If you let her keep doing this, you won’t have anything left.

The thought was disturbing and he didn’t know why.

Shifting away from her to get a bit of distance, he moved to get off the bed.

“Hey, are you okay?”

The question made him feel odd. Restless and not quite sure how to respond because he’d never been asked that question after sex before. Clients hadn’t given a shit whether he was okay as long as they got off and sex with Anita had never been…

That raw?

“I’m fine,” he said, closing that particular thought down, turning to smile at her to show her that there truly wasn’t anything the matter. “I just need get rid of this condom.”

“Oh.” She rolled over onto her side. With her toes still in her ballet shoes, they pointed, making her look like she was dancing even lying down. “I know you said that this was all about you tonight, but can I make a suggestion?”

Christ. All about him… Yeah, he’d said that, hadn’t he? How weird to think that when from the moment they’d walked through the door, it had been all about her.

“Sure. What?”

“This might sound weird, but can I have a bath?”

He didn’t know why that should surprise him. Then again, everything she said seemed to surprise him, so why not this?

“I mean, you do have a tub, don’t you?”

“Of course. I’ll go run one for you.”

She lay down flat on the bed, her chin resting on her folded hands. “It’s big enough for two, right?”

It was. But he’d never had a bath with another person in it.

Sex. Keep it about sex. Don’t think about the possibility of deep and meaningful conversation. About her hands touching you, caressing you. Stripping you bare…

“Yeah, it is. But if you’re thinking of it being a relaxing option, I can pretty much guarantee that’s not going to happen.”

She flushed. “I’m good with that.”

“In that case, why don’t you wait here and get your strength back? I’ll go start filling it up.” He got off the bed and headed into the ensuite bathroom where the bath was, a big, clawfoot white enamel thing that took forever to fill.

Getting rid of the condom, he started the water running then went back out to the kitchen to get together some food and drink. Cheese and crusty bread and dip, some of the extra special fine, dark chocolate that Anita had given him a taste for. A bottle of French champagne.

“You’re a sensualist, Kahu,” she’d once told him. “You should indulge yourself more often than just sex.”

She’d liked “spoiling him” as she’d termed it. And he let her because he’d never had any of the things she’d given him. He’d loved her and the thought of refusing her gifts had never crossed his mind, even when he didn’t actually want some of them.

Not the food and drink, though, he liked that well enough.

When he got back to the bedroom, Lily was sitting on the side of the bed, her legs over the side. Her eyes lit up when he saw the tray he was carrying. “Oh my God, you read my mind. I’m starving.”

The simple pleasure on her face was another crack in the wall he hadn’t realized was there. He’d always liked looking after people, it was what had driven him onto the streets in the first place, wanting quick money after his gang-patched father had gone to jail for assault. His mother couldn’t get a job and with four younger siblings all needing to be fed and a roof kept over their heads, it had seemed the easiest way. Certainly to his sixteen-year-old way of thinking it had looked less dangerous and violent than running drugs for his father’s gang.

Pity it didn’t end up being that simple.

No, it hadn’t. He’d been naïve. Stupid. Hadn’t realized how terrifying it had been to give another person control over your body. To let them do things to you that you didn’t like and wouldn’t have chosen if there had been another way.

But no, he wasn’t going to be thinking about that. It was the decision he’d made and he couldn’t unmake it.

Coming over to the bed, he set the tray down and put the bottle and the two glasses he’d also been holding onto the nightstand.

“Can I take these off now?” Lily pointed one slender, ballet shoe-covered foot.

Kahu glanced down at it. Well, he’d indulged his little fetish for the time being, and if they hurt her, he definitely didn’t want her keeping them on. “I think so. But since I put them on, I’ll take them off.” He knelt, took her foot in his hand and began undoing the ribbons. “They really hurt?”

“Yeah. But it’s okay. Dance is pain.” There was a small, ironic smile turning her mouth. “And it turns out I’m pretty good at dealing with pain.”

“So you are.” He began to untie the ribbons, unwinding them from around her narrow ankle. “I guess you’ve had practice.”

She sighed. “Tell me about it. Nothing like cancer to test your pain threshold.”

He slid off her shoes, noting the bruises on her toes and the cracked nails. Apparently she was telling the truth about dance being pain. He stroked the sensitive hollow behind her ankle and looked up, studying her face. “You were in the hospital a long time.”

“It was a long time. I had complications with my treatment, stuff like that.”

“What happened with your dancing?”

Her full, pouty mouth tightened. “Nothing, that’s what happened. Cancer pretty much screwed my career. That’s why I’m trying to get this audition. I’m trying to make up for the three years I lost.”

Three lost years. A long time for a young dancer. A long time for a sixteen-year-old girl who should have been at school enjoying her life with friends and boyfriends and parties and all that kind of shit.

“You have to do it now? You can’t sit back and enjoy life for a bit?”

She frowned. “No. I don’t have time. A ballet career starts young. I mean, all the other girls I knew are dancing overseas already. If I want a career, I have to do this now before I’m too old.”

Christ. Too old at twenty. “Life is more than just ballet, sweetheart.”

Abruptly, she looked away. “Yeah, well, it may be for other people. But I don’t have anything else. I had to focus on something to get me through the cancer and ballet was it.”

“Come on, you don’t have any other interests? Or friends?”

“No,” she said dully. “For the past three years I’ve been trying not to die, so I didn’t have time to develop any other hobbies.”

I’m so fucking lonely, Kahu…

He didn’t want her to be lonely. He didn’t want her to be in pain. He could see himself in her, the teenager lost to the streets. Who’d eventually been kicked out of his home when his father had gotten out of jail and found out how his oldest son had been keeping the family alive.

Both he and Lily had had something taken from them. An essential part of themselves.

The crack in the wall inside him widened, getting larger.

“You have me,” he said before he could stop himself. “I’ll be your friend.”

The tightness around her mouth relaxed and she smiled, full-on and bright, an unexpected gift. “Yeah? I’d like that.”

Bits of the wall were crumbling now, like bricks under a wrecking ball.

Fuck’s sake, stop.

He looked away, his heart pounding, busying himself with the ribbons on the other shoe. “I have lots of hobbies I can introduce you to.” He pulled at the knot. “Drinking French champagne in the bath, for example. The number of orgasms it’s possible to have in an hour. How many shots of scotch you can have before you fall over.”

Shut the fuck up, you idiot. You’re babbling.

Cool fingers slid over his own at her ankle. “Kahu?”

He didn’t look up, staring at her pale hands over his. “What?”

“Are you okay?”

No. You’re not okay.

Gently he shook her hands away and finished with the knot. “What makes you say that?” He unwrapped the ribbons and slid her shoe off, trying to mask the fact that his fucking hands were still shaking.

“You seem…I don’t know…nervous or something.”

He placed the shoe on the ground. “Sure. I’m worried about the bath overflowing. Hang on while I just go check it.”

Liar. Liar. Liar.

He got up and walked back into the bathroom, checking on the water level then turning the tap off before leaning against the white porcelain vanity and closing his eyes.

He didn’t know what she was doing to him, because it was definitely something she was doing. Out of all the women he’d had in his bed, she was the only one who was getting to him. Like a sapper digging a tunnel beneath the castle walls, she was undermining some part of him that needed to stay strong.

To keep people out, right?

Soft footsteps. The scent of flowers and musk. “Kahu?”

He opened his eyes and found Lily standing in front of him, naked and beautiful, a look of concern on her face. “Something’s wrong, isn’t it?” She lifted a hand to cup his cheek.

“Don’t touch me.” The words broke from him before he could stop them, a harsh sound. And the instant he’d said it, he regretted it.

Her eyes widened, a spark of hurt flaring in them, and her hand dropped. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

Already he could feel the side of his face aching from the lack of contact. Almost as if his soul was yearning for the connection. Was hungry for it.

She will break you if you let her.

And she would. Those cracks kept running through him and with every touch, with every glimpse of her brave, determined spirit, they just kept deepening, widening. He didn’t want to know what would happen if the wall crashed down. Something terrible. Something he didn’t want to face.

But he also didn’t want to hurt her. And he had.

“No,” he said harshly, suddenly furious with himself. “I’m sorry. But you should know I’m not up for any heart-to-heart chats, okay?”

Her expression shuttered. “I wasn’t asking you for heart-to-heart chats. I just wanted to know if you were okay. But hey, clearly you are, so forget I asked.” She began to turn away.

Fucking hell, he was ruining this.

Reaching out, he grabbed her arm, turning her back to him. “I’m sorry, Lily. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

Anger simmered in her eyes. “I thought you said you were going to be my friend. Or didn’t you mean it?”

“I did mean it… Christ.” He pushed his hand through his hair, feeling out of his depth. He didn’t want to tell her anything, reveal himself, and yet he hated the thought of hurting her. “I just don’t like talking about myself very much.”

“I only asked if you were okay. I didn’t want your life story or anything.”

No, she hadn’t. And she’d given him hers in the bargain.

Don’t tell her. Keep yourself safe.

Her skin under his fingers on her arm was warm and soft, and it didn’t take much pressure to pull her closer, to get that warm, soft skin up against his. The breath hissed out of her in a little rush as he slid an arm around her waist, his palm curving over her butt, fitting the hot, damp heat of her pussy against his hardening cock.

Yeah, this was it. This was all there ever was. Heat and slick flesh and hungry mouths. Like good food or fine wine, a brief spark of physical pleasure in the darkness. He
was
a sensualist. And why not? It was a damn sight better than any kind of emotional crap that was for sure.

Maybe that was the key. Bring it back to why they were here. Sex and control. Nothing more.

“Just as well. My life story would make for depressing reading.” He bent his head and brushed her mouth with his, coaxing her lips to open. Sliding his tongue in to taste her. “Now,” he murmured after a moment. “Like I said, you’re here for me and what I want is your ass in that bath.”

Yet Lily had stiffened in his arms and when he raised his head, he saw that the anger in her eyes hadn’t faded. It was burning there still.

“Ballet,” she said.

Chapter Twelve

His jaw hardened as she said the word, but she didn’t look away and she didn’t back down. His body was hot against hers and all she wanted to do was press herself against it, but she wasn’t going to do that either.

She didn’t have a lot of experience with friendship, but she did know it was about give and take. And that she didn’t want to be the one doing all the taking, she wanted to give as well. Especially to him. Whatever he’d done with that pain/pleasure thing had been incredible, like he’d reset her somehow. The experience of the leukemia would always be there and he hadn’t wiped it away just like that, but something inside her felt easier, as if a pressure had been released. And now she wanted to do the same for him, except he seemed hell-bent on preventing her.

Well, shit. She’d learned about surrender from him, but this wasn’t about surrender. Now was the time to fight.

“Ballet, huh? You’re playing a mean game, little girl.” The anger in his eyes was swiftly masked and an offhand, casual note entered his voice. “And your damn bath is going to get cold.” Releasing her, he eased her away from him.

Lily folded her arms, shivering at the sensation across the tips of her sensitive nipples. She felt cold and really wanted that bath, but she wasn’t going to back down here.

She didn’t know why he’d gone all weird when she’d tried to touch him. She didn’t know why he’d gone all weird now—she could feel the distance he was putting between them—but one thing was certain: she was bloody well going to find out.

Her main problem was trying to get through that jaded, cynical wall he kept throwing up when she pushed him. And she was sure it was a wall and that he was using it to protect himself.

You’re going to ruin this if you’re not careful.

She might and if she wanted an easy life, doing what he said and getting in that bath were the best way to get it. But she couldn’t leave this alone. There was more to Kahu Winter than the jaded, cynical man she’d come to know, she was sure of it. And she wanted to find out what more there was.

“I don’t care,” she said, lifting her chin. “I want to know why you didn’t want me to touch you.”

His eyes were opaque and blacker than obsidian. “Sorry, sweetheart, but I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

“You don’t. I thought you might like to, though, seeing as how you were quite happy for me to touch you not five minutes ago.”

“Jesus. Okay, we’ll do it your way.” He pushed her gently against the side of the tub. “Sit down and let Uncle Kahu tell you a story.”

The enamel was cold but colder still was the irritation on his face. And the boredom. “What story?”

“Since I’m clearly not going to get to fuck you until your curiosity is satisfied, I am now going to satisfy it. And then you’re going to get into that bath and onto my cock. Are we clear?”

She narrowed her gaze. Oh he was definitely protecting himself, the way he always did with shocking words issued in that voice redolent with manufactured boredom. The armor he wore to keep the world at bay. “Crystal,” she said. “But let’s also agree that I didn’t ask you for this. You wanted to give it to me.”

Another lightning flash of anger moved through his eyes then it was gone. “Yeah, whatever. Consider it a present.” He backed away to lean against the vanity, the cold light of the bathroom shining over the bronze skin of his abs and the heavy plane of his chest. He was still hard and standing there, looking down at her, he seemed like a kind of warrior god. Powerful, strong, intensely masculine.

Hell, he was such a beautiful man. Was she mad to push him like this when she could be in the bath right now? In the warm water with his arms around her, his cock inside her, giving her so much pleasure?

Yeah, you’re fucking crazy.

Lily hardened her jaw, keeping her arms folded. And waited.

“Here’s the facts, ballerina,” he said, his voice uninflected. “My dad was a gang member and when I was sixteen, he went back to jail for the fourth time for assault. My mother had no money, no qualifications, nothing but the benefit. And I had four other siblings. We had to find some cash to keep everyone fed and pay the damn rent otherwise we’d be out on the streets. Dad wanted me to be a gang prospect but I hated them. They were murdering scum and I wanted nothing to do with them. I didn’t have any qualifications and since I left school at fifteen, no damn education either. I had two choices, running drugs or stealing.” He shifted against the vanity, his hands behind him, fingers gripping onto the white porcelain. “I hated either of those choices. Both were dangerous and if I got caught I’d go to jail too. Then I noticed a mate of mine had this fancy new jacket. He had no money so I asked him where he’d got it. He wouldn’t tell me. Eventually though, after a lot of beer, he told me he’d been sucking the dicks of rich,
pakeha
guys. It was easy, over in five minutes and he got cash for it.”

Lily’s chest felt hollow. She tightened her arms, holding the feeling inside. The look in his eyes was full of a kind of fatalism that made the hollow feeling even worse, but she didn’t look away. If he could bear to tell it, she could bear to listen.

“I wasn’t gay,” Kahu went on. “But it sounded like easy money to me and we fucking needed it. So my mate told me where to go and what to do and that’s what I did. Turns out it wasn’t as easy as I thought, at least the first time wasn’t.” The shadows of memory lingered in his eyes, a flicker, then vanishing. “But after that, it wasn’t so bad. I managed to keep the family in cash while Dad was in jail for at least a couple of years. And then he got out and came home and found out what I’d been doing. He was fucking furious. He beat me to within an inch of my life and threw me out of the house.”

She almost flinched at his casual tone. The hollow feeling intensified and she had to grit her teeth.

Kahu’s posture was relaxed, like he was relating a story that had happened to someone else, someone who wasn’t him. He even smiled at her, a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Too difficult for you, love? I told you it made for depressing reading.”

“Oh no, don’t stop,” she said sarcastically. “It’s just getting good.”

The fake smile turning his mouth eased fractionally. “So after I’d recovered from dear old Dad’s little display of love, I obviously couldn’t go home. I went into the inner city instead, lived on the streets for a while. Turned tricks on the side. You know the bridge over Grafton Gully? I lived under there. Great place. Lots of atmosphere. Indoor-outdoor flow, the works.”

“Kahu,” she said.

Unexpectedly he glanced away for a moment and when he looked back, all the amusement was gone from his voice. From his face. He looked hard. Cold. A god of anger. “And then some fucker stole Anita’s purse and I got it back and gave it to her. And she invited me back to this bar for a drink to thank me. She bought me a glass of wine—I’d fucking never had wine in my life—and we talked. All night. She wanted to help me, she said, and asked me to meet her for coffee the next day. I did. Eventually she offered me a place to stay. Food. A proper bathroom. She helped me go back to school, get some decent qualifications. She even got me into law school, though that wasn’t my thing so I dropped out.” His jaw tightened, the hard, cold gleam in his eyes becoming even harder. “She took me overseas, she showed me the world. Gave me a taste of all this stuff I’d never even thought existed. For five years I lived with her, shared her bed and her life. Then she told me she had Huntington’s disease, that she was going to be very sick and eventually it would kill her. Then she cut me off. Told me our relationship was over.”

Lily blinked, her throat dry and tight. Beneath the hard note in his voice she could hear the pain. God, this woman who’d saved him from the gutter then cut him off? Just like that? “Why?” she forced out.

“I don’t know. I told her I was in love with her, that I wanted to marry her. But she said I didn’t know what I felt. That I didn’t love her and she didn’t love me so it was a moot point.” A muscle jumped in his jaw. “Anyway, long story short, she left me the club as a goodbye present or some such shit, while I left the country for five years. When I came back to Auckland, she was in a nursing home and the illness had advanced. I visited her every week, read to her.” There was the smallest pause. “She died six months ago.”

Again, there was no obvious change in his tone but Lily could hear it. Could see the glint of it in his eyes. Anger. Pain. Grief.

“Why?” she repeated. “Why did you visit her? After she chucked you out like that?”

He shifted again. “I loved her, sweetheart. I couldn’t leave her slowly dying in a home without at least one visit.”

She stared at him. “You’re angry with her, though.”

Surprise passed over the brutally handsome lines of his face then he laughed, a strangely empty sound. “Angry with her? Yeah, well, I was. Once. It’s all water under the bridge now, though. She’s dead. End of story.” He pushed himself away from the vanity and came around the side of the bath, gestured to it. “In.”

But it wasn’t the end of the story. Somehow Anita still had a hold on him, she was sure of it. All that anger and pain and grief had to come from somewhere. Had it been from the horror of his early life or was it all Anita? Then again… The shock of it, a prostitute from the streets suddenly brought into the life of a rich, sophisticated woman. He must have thought he was entering the kingdom of heaven and Anita the goddess.

She swallowed. “That still doesn’t explain why you didn’t want me to touch you, though.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Unhidden anger glittered in his gaze. “You don’t want to get in the bath? Fine. I don’t force anyone to do what they don’t want and I don’t manipulate either. But darling, if you don’t want another screw then it’s probably better you go home. Understand?”

It would have hurt if she hadn’t known that his defense mechanisms were kicking in. That he was trying to keep the distance between them.

Abruptly she remembered being in his arms as he’d held her on the bed, sliding inside her, the pleasure of it overwhelming. And she’d felt half drunk, dizzy with desire, unable to stop touching him. Smooth skin and sweat and densely packed muscle. She’d wanted to learn every inch of him, stroke and caress him like the beautiful man he was. But she remembered the look on his face, the strange hint of fear in his eyes. He’d shook then pushed her onto her back, aggressive and hungry.

Another memory. His hands shaking as they’d undid the ribbons on her ballet shoes.

Was that her? When she was trying to close the distance between them?

That’s why he didn’t want you to touch him…

Kahu was getting into the bath, the water displacing as he sunk his large body into it. He sat at the other end to where she was perched, a weary, cynical expression on his face. “Well? What’s it to be? Another screw or are you finding your own way home?”

“I know what you’re doing,” she said quietly. “You’re trying to push me away.”

He raised a brow. “Oh, and you think you know me well enough to comment, sweetheart?”

“Does anyone know you well enough to comment, Kahu? Did Anita?” It was a guess, but she saw it hit home in another flare of barely hidden anger that glittered in his eyes. “Or did you use the same tactic with her? The stupid, meaningless endearments. The ‘I’m a jaded cynical manwhore’ bullshit?”

His mouth flattened into a hard line. “Get into the bath, little girl. Or get your ass out of here. I’m not going to say it again.”

Lily’s heart began to beat fast, her mouth drying. This was a gamble and if she played wrong, she’d probably never see him again. But shit, this was important and so was he. And if she had any hope of continuing this beyond another night, she had to win this round.

You want to continue this beyond another night?

Shoving the thought away, Lily slipped off the side of the bath. “Okay,” she said. “If that’s the way you feel.”

Then she turned and walked out of the bathroom.

Every muscle in Kahu’s body tightened in instinctive reaction as Lily turned on her heel in a flare of silky red-gold curls and walked out.

Why did she always do that? Why did she
always
do the thing he didn’t expect her to do?

Oh come on, you really expected her to jump into the bath with you after that?

His jaw was so tight it felt like it was going to crack.

Fuck her. Let her go. Let her walk. He didn’t care. He’d told her about his sordid past—it wasn’t a fucking secret after all—and if she couldn’t get past that then too bad.

Yet desire and anger and a sharp, barbed pain sat in his gut.

You don’t want her to go.

He gripped onto the edge of the bath, listening to the sounds of her in the bedroom. But there was nothing. Had she gone already? A thump. Fuck, was that the front door shutting?

Let her go. Protect yourself.

But he was moving before he was even aware of doing so, propelled by a need he hadn’t realized had grown so large. A yearning he couldn’t quite suppress no matter how hard he tried.

With a surge of water, Kahu got out of the bath and strode, dripping wet, out of the bathroom.

She wasn’t there.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

He went out and down the short hallway and came out into the lounge in time to see her on the point of opening the front door. She was dressed already, her satchel slung over her shoulder.

“Lily, stop.” He didn’t wait for her to reply or respond, he continued walking as she turned to face him, coming right up to her and reaching out, pulling her hand off the door handle. Putting one hand on her hip and pushing her up against the closed door. Pinning her to it, heedless of the fact that he was wet and she was dressed.

She looked up at him, her stubborn jaw set, her eyes full of determination. She didn’t move or struggle, just stood there, stiff as a board. Waiting while he stood there naked and hard and sick with wanting.

Anger, thick and hot flooded through him. He put a hand on her throat, the slender bones so fragile against his palm. Her pulse was racing, as fast as his.