Under Pressure (20 page)

Climbing back onto the couch, Kennedy spread her thighs wide, bracketing his hips.

She was soft and fragrant. Warm and welcoming.

The heat of her sex rubbed against his throbbing erection. She was wet, the evidence of her desire leaving him slick.

Sweeping his hands through her hair, Asher pulled it back, wanting to see her face, watch her expression. And there was something there. Something deep inside those whiskey eyes that made his throat tighten and chest ache even as she reached between them, guiding him to the entrance of her body.

Slowly, she sank down, taking him deep. Asher’s eyelids closed, blocking out everything except the pure feel of her.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to how perfect you feel,” he growled, his hands on her flexing to bring her closer.

He held them both still for several seconds, simply soaking up their connection. The warmth of her broken, passion-saturated breaths. Her spicy, sweet scent filling him up. He wanted to savor this. Her. Them.

But Kennedy wasn’t content with that. Her hips began to move, and Asher was powerless to fight the friction and rhythm she was creating.

He followed her pace, enjoying the freedom to run his hands across her body, to suck her nipples into his mouth. He could feel her tighten, muscles clamping around him deep inside her body.

They were both panting, quickly reaching the edge of patience, wanting more. Asher’s hands were on her hips, urging her faster, harder. The soft sounds of her whimpers roared through his head. Her body trembled against him. God, he loved it when she trembled with need, searching for the relief only he could give her.

But tonight, he wanted more than an orgasm, no matter how mind-blowing it might be.

“Look at me,” he said.

Kennedy’s eyes popped open, glowing tawny brown, and immediately found his. Chest to chest, so close, there was no avoiding the emotions building between them, right along with the impending orgasm.

There was no hiding. Asher might feel the most vulnerable in his entire life, but in that moment, he wasn’t the only one open and bare.

What he saw in Kennedy’s gaze gave him a burst of hope. She wanted him. Felt something for him, the same deep connection he’d been desperately fighting.

Maybe, maybe...

The thought spiraled away, along with the crash of Kennedy’s release. Her body clamped hard around him. His hips bucked against hers, even as she ground down against him, milking every speck of pleasure from the moment.

Her lips opened, sighed a single word...his name.

The way she looked, lost in ecstasy, his name on her lips...it was too much. His own body shuddered and then exploded, everything spilling out with several deep, hard thrusts that left him spent.

At some point her fingers had tangled in his hair. Her heated skin pressed against him, but he never wanted her to move.

If he could, Asher would stay in that moment forever.

But reality slowly encroached. Somewhere behind them, Max perked up from his spot on the floor, the tags on his collar jingling an alert that came about thirty seconds too late.

The side door, the one all of his friends used to walk straight into his place, opened and slammed shut.

And a voice rang out, “Hey, man, what’s Kennedy’s car doing in your driveway?”

* * *

O
H
SHIT
.

Kennedy barely had time to react, her brain still cloudy from what she and Asher had just shared. But she didn’t really need to do anything because the minute her brother’s voice sounded, Asher was in motion.

She was off his lap, on her feet, and the shirt he’d been wearing not an hour ago pulled over her head and dangling past her thighs.

Asher was zipping up his shorts when Jackson crossed the threshold into the room and stopped mid-stride.

Her brother’s quick gaze swept across the scene, taking in every little detail that told a story difficult to misinterpret.

A crease wrinkled the spot right between his eyebrows. His words were slow and deliberate when he asked, “What the hell is going on?”

Part of her expected Asher to distance himself, to put as much space between them as humanly possible. Instead, he stepped right up to her, his chest to her back, and wrapped a possessive arm tight around her.

The frown tugging at Jackson’s lips deepened as he rounded the couch. He didn’t stop until he was looming over her, face-to-face with Asher.

“She’s my sister,” he growled.

Asher applied pressure, urging her to the left, out from between the two of them.

“I’m aware of that,” he said, his voice low and even. “But it isn’t what you think.”

“No? So I’m wrong in assuming one of my best friends, a guy I’ve bled with and fought with, just got finished screwing my sister?”

Kennedy watched the blood drain from Asher’s face. And then it all flooded back, burning red with anger and indignation.

Crap
.

The last thing she needed was for Asher to lose his temper and deck Jackson.

And she refused to be the reason these two friends came to blows. Especially now that she understood just how important Jackson and Knox were to Asher, how alone he would be without these brothers.

Pushing between them, Kennedy put her palms in the center of Jackson’s chest and shoved. He didn’t move much, but it was enough. At least she had his attention.

Jackson’s gaze shifted from Asher to her, and for a few seconds she wished it hadn’t.

The anger and anguish there sent a bolt of pain through her own chest. She could handle just about anything, except her brother’s disappointment.

“This isn’t his fault, Jackson.”

“No? Then it’s yours?”

“It’s no one’s fault. We’re both adults, perfectly capable of deciding who to let into our beds.”

Jackson glared at her, his laser-blue gaze cutting straight through her. “Maybe, although you don’t exactly have a great track record where lovers are concerned, do you, Kennedy? Indecent exposure, really?”

Kennedy gasped. It was her turn for the blood to drain from her face. She felt light-headed, and the room began to spin. Heavy hands gripped her shoulders, holding her still and anchoring her in place, when, for a few seconds, it felt as if her entire world had exploded.

“How, how did you know?” She twisted around, glaring at Asher. “Did you tell him?”

“No,” he growled, his gaze thunderous.

“He didn’t,” Jackson tossed a glare at his friend and then ran his hands through his hair, tugging at it several times before looking at her again. “Did you really think I wouldn’t keep tabs on you? You’re my only sister, Kennedy. I have specialized skills and friends all over the place. Of course I knew what was going on with you.”

But... “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“Because I figured if you wanted my help you’d come to me. I wanted you to trust me with the truth, but you never did. You’re not great at letting people in.” His lips twisted into an unhappy frown. “It’s a trait you share with him.”

Kennedy turned her head, looking at Asher over her shoulder. Jackson wasn’t wrong.

“You’re both strong-willed and stubborn as hell. Cautious even though you like to pretend that reluctance is by choice and not because of past experiences.”

God, he was right.

“You don’t have to worry about this affecting our work. Even though there are still a couple days of filming, it’s temporary. I’m leaving for Seattle in less than a week, after all.”

Instead of calming him down, that only made Jackson glare at her even more.

“Just one more reason this was a bad idea. But I guess it’s too late to stop it, now.”

Spinning on his heel, Jackson disappeared through the door he’d entered. It might have made her feel better if he’d slammed it, but he didn’t.

Guilt, fear and pain rose inside her, a churning sludge that made her belly cramp.

Behind her, Asher dropped onto the sofa. The springs groaned in protest, but he didn’t seem to notice. Instead, he scraped both hands up and down his face, as if he could wipe out the past several minutes.

Walking over, Kennedy crouched in front of him, placing her hands on his knees.

Asher moved his legs away from her touch, letting her hands fall empty on to the sofa. The one where they’d just spent the past hour snuggling. Making love...

He didn’t even bother looking at her when he muttered, “Go home, Kennedy.”

“I’m going to fix this, Asher. I promise. I’ll talk to Jackson, smooth things over. I won’t let him get upset with you for something I chose to do.”

When he didn’t respond, Kennedy reached for his hands, prying them away from his face. When he finally looked at her, his expression was completely blank.

“There’s n-n-nothing to fix. You’ll be leaving in a few days. And I can handle your brother. But he’s right and this is over. So, go home.”

A hard lump formed in her throat. Kennedy tried to swallow it back, but it wouldn’t budge. Something told her neither would Asher. At least, not tonight.

* * *

K
ENNEDY
’
S
WORDS
HURT
, more than he wanted them to.

They were the reminder he’d desperately needed, especially after making love to her on the couch. He hadn’t meant to, but he’d been powerless to hold anything back.

And for a brief moment, he’d thought maybe she’d felt the same soul-stirring connection he had.

But she hadn’t.

To her, what they’d shared was just sex and nothing more. In a few days, she’d be gone, and once again, he’d be left shattered.

A sharp pain lanced through his chest, but Asher ignored it. He was used to pain. Could handle it just fine. And this would be no different.

Kennedy stared at him, the expression in her eyes nearly killing him. Anguish. Regret. He didn’t want her regret. He wanted her to stay.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

He wasn’t certain what she was apologizing for, but it really didn’t matter.

Words raced through his head. Things he could say to change the outcome. But he didn’t want to convince her to stay. He needed her to want to be with him. Was it too much to ask that someone, anyone, would choose him?

“Go home,” he said again, his voice even.

She stared up at him, hesitation in her gaze, and for a second he thought maybe, just maybe, he was wrong. That she was going to wrap her arms around him and say she didn’t want to leave.

Instead, she gathered her things, put her clothes back on and walked up beside him. Her soft hand rested on his arm. The heat from her body radiated out, touching him as surely as any caress she could have given him. And his traitorous dick responded, wanting nothing more than to be buried deep inside her again.

He longed for that physical connection, even though he knew now that it was empty.

“I won’t let this ruin your friendship or jeopardize your business, Asher. That I promise you.”

He didn’t give a damn about the business.

“It’s fine,” he said, even if deep down he knew it wasn’t.

She squeezed his arm, holding on just a few seconds longer.

And then she was gone.

16

A
SHER
WALKED
THROUGH
the front door of Trident the next morning. After a long, sleepless night, his resolve was set in stone.

Kennedy was leaving. And he wasn’t sure he would have stopped her even if he could. This was a major opportunity for her. She’d put all of her time and energy into Trident, but the diving company wasn’t her dream. It was Jackson’s and Knox’s really. And his family.

She deserved the chance to make her own mark on the world. And if he really cared about her, he couldn’t stop her from doing that. Even if it hurt.

But for his own peace of mind, he had to stop their relationship. It was going to be difficult enough to let her go. The more time he spent with her, the deeper in he got.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t going to be easy to avoid her.

They still had several more days of filming before the documentary crew was finished with them both.

Starting this morning.

Kennedy’s car was already in the parking lot, so he knew she was there. And so was Jackson’s. At least he’d be able to get all of the difficult conversations over with at once.

He ignored the production crew as he stalked past the front conference room where they’d assembled. Daniel called out to him, but Asher didn’t acknowledge the other man.

He was on a mission.

He stopped in the doorway to Kennedy’s office, not bothering to knock before entering and closing the door behind him.

Plopping into the chair across from her, Asher put his feet up on her desk, knowing it would drive her absolutely insane.

She glanced at the soles of his boots and then followed the line of his legs straight up his body. Asher felt the impact of her study as if she’d caressed him, but he ignored the physical fallout.

“Look, given the situation, I think it’s best if we end whatever this is between us.”

Kennedy’s mouth opened and closed. Her lips thinned, and her eyes narrowed. But she didn’t argue with him. The tiny seed of hope he’d been powerless to stomp out last night finally withered and died.

“We both knew it was nothing more than some fun. But you’re leaving, and my relationship with Jackson is more important than some fling, even if the sex was stellar.”

He watched Kennedy’s face blanch and then blaze bright red. But she slowly nodded.

“We have a few more days of filming. Help me get through them, and then we can both move on with our lives.”

He didn’t wait for Kennedy to respond but bounded up from the chair and turned to leave. However, two steps into the hall, he was startled to be grabbed by the arm and spun into an empty office, his back slammed against the wall.

“I should put my fist through your face for that,” Jackson growled at him, the fist in question poised for action and aimed straight at his nose.

“You want to punch me because I broke things off with her, but you didn’t when you walked into my house and found her practically naked in my living room?”