Reckless (Thoughtless #3)

Reckless (Thoughtless #3) Page 22

Kate and Cheyenne flew back home the next morning, both of them looking a little worn as they climbed into the taxi. It warmed my heart to see them again; I'd really missed my friends back home. Jenny and Rachel were staying a couple of extra nights, to visit with their boyfriends. Our bus was rowdy and packed, full of music and laughter. I was firmly convinced that Disneyland had nothing on this bus-which was truly the happiest place on earth.

When we rolled into Philadelphia, the City of Brotherly Love, people on the bus started making plans for the afternoon. Jenny, Rachel, Matt, and Evan were going sightseeing. Deacon, Ray, and David were originally from around Philly, so they went to catch up with some friends. Anna and Griffin were going out for ice cream and pickles-another craving my sister was having. Wanting to spend some alone time together, Kellan and I turned down every group that invited us out.

When we were completely alone, I turned to Kellan and gave him a suggestive smile. "So, now that it is just you and me, Mr. Kyle, what would you like to do?" Dropping my voice to a seductive level, I said, "Maybe return that favor you still owe me?" I was a little proud of myself. Not only had I said it without blushing or squeaking, but my voice had even come out a little on the erotic side. I was getting good at this.

Kellan, however, surprisingly frowned and looked down at his shoes. "Actually . . . I have a favor to ask of you."

Seeing the seriousness in his expression, I twisted to face him on the couch. "What is it?"

Kellan leaned forward on his knees. He was wearing a long-sleeved white shirt with a short-sleeved black shirt layered over the top of it. The two contrasting colors seemed to perfectly express his disposition-he was eager, he was reluctant. He was happy, he was sad. He was at peace, he was melancholy. I hated seeing the conflict on his face, especially when I wasn't sure what he was conflicted about.

He ran a hand through his hair and peeked up at me. "I've been debating doing something. I wasn't going to do it, so I didn't even bother mentioning it, but the longer we sit here, the more it eats away at me, and I just feel like . . . I have to do it. I need to do it." He swallowed, then slowly exhaled. "But I can't do it alone. I need you."

Not expecting him to say anything like that, I grabbed his hand and squeezed. "My answer is yes. Whatever the favor is, my answer is always yes. Whenever you need me, I'm there, Kellan . . . I'm always here for you."

His eyes watered as he swallowed again. It broke my heart. Brushing some hair off of his forehead, I asked, "What do you need to do?"

He tried to tell me, but his voice was so hoarse he couldn't. After clearing his throat, he tried again. "I need to visit someone." He clamped his mouth shut after that and looked away; the pain on his face was obvious.

I kissed his shoulder. "Okay." I didn't know who he needed to visit, and it didn't matter. My husband was asking for me, and I would be there.

Kellan called for a cab while I grabbed my purse and a thick jacket. The label would arrange transportation if we needed it, but that was generally only for official functions; we were on our own if we were running errands. Upon Kellan's request, our friendly bus driver, Jonathan, had started parking so that the door to our bus was hidden by the other tour bus. It gave us a modicum amount of privacy from the fans and photographers when we entered or exited the bus. It also prevented Sienna from attempting anymore "conjugal visit" photo ops.

When the taxi arrived and was cleared by security, it parked in front of the crack between the two busses. Kellan slipped on his leather jacket and gave me a sad smile as he walked over to me. "Thanks for doing this," he whispered, twisting me around and helping me put on my jacket.

Looking over my shoulder and wondering what it was we were doing, I told him, "It's not a problem, Kellan. You're not ever a problem."

Kellan's face was a stone mask when we settled into the taxi; he looked completely impassive. To the driver, he said, "Saint Joseph's Cemetery in Gloucester Township, New Jersey." That answer was about the last thing I'd expected him to say. I could not have been more confused about why we were going to a graveyard. Turning to me, Kellan clarified, "It's where my parents are buried."

Knowing just how difficult this day was going to be for him, I put my hand on his thigh. He immediately placed his hand over mine and laced our fingers together. While Kellan's gaze shifted to the cityscape blurring past us, I asked him, "Why are your parents buried here and not Seattle?"

Still not looking at me, Kellan shrugged. "My aunt brought them here after the funeral. She said there was nothing left in Washington for them, so why bury them there." He returned his eyes to mine then, and there was a distinct edge of hardness in them. "She buried them here, near where she and my mom grew up."

Sadness swept over me. He really hadn't had anybody on his side when he was younger-except Denny and his band. "Oh, does your aunt live here, then?"

Kellan eyes snapped back to the window. "Don't know, don't care. We don't talk . . . never have." Kellan clearly didn't want to talk about her, so I let the conversation die.

We made one stop on the way to the cemetery-for flowers. It just about broke my heart when he ran into a shop on the corner and came out holding two bouquets. It really killed me when he handed me a white rose petal with the words I'm glad you're here written on it.

The drive to the cemetery took less than twenty minutes, but the light rain outside had turned into a heavy downpour by the time we arrived. I didn't have an umbrella with me, but I didn't really care; Kellan needed to do this. He needed closure. The cab stopped on a road that looped around an island of grass with a gigantic concrete angel in the center of it. Kellan told the driver to wait for us, then hopped out of the cab. Clenching both bouquets of red roses in his hand, Kellan immediately started turning his head back and forth, searching the expansive grounds. By the time I exited the cab, he was soaking wet; he looked lost and lonely as he looked around the empty graveyard.

He shook his head when I was beside him and ran his hand through his hair, slicking back the thick, wet mess. "I don't know where they are."

There was sorrow in his eyes as the rain streamed down his face. He didn't know where his parents were buried. Grabbing his free hand, cool from the damp air, I looked around the sea of headstones. The space around us was huge, and a road to our left led to even more graves that I could see through the breaks in the dripping trees. We could search for days and never find his parents. We didn't have days, though. We had a few hours at best.

Squeezing his hand, I firmly told him, "We'll find them."

We were running out of time, so we hastily began our search for the needle in this gloomy haystack. We started systematically going down the rows. We walked down separate aisles, two or three rows apart from each other, so we could cover as much ground as possible. We finished the first lot in thirty minutes with no luck. I glanced at the cabbie reading a book in his dry car, wondering how much this trip was going to cost us in fares. But, much like the limo for my bachelorette party, this was one expense that Kellan would gladly pay for.

Shivering and teeth chattering, we made our way toward the second half of the cemetery. This section was at least twice the size of the other side; I felt fatigued just looking at it. But we had no choice but to keep searching, so we did. With the names John and Susan Kyle blazing through my mind, I scoured the markers of the graves before me. So many people were buried here, each with their own stories, their own loves, joys, and heartaches. It was overwhelming to think about how many lives each person here had touched, in good ways, and in some cases, bad ways.

I was so focused on finding the names of Kellan's parents that the letters almost escaped me when I did eventually see them. John and Susan Kyle: Beloved Friends, Family, and Parents. I stared at the black marble in shock. I'd found them. I'd actually found them. From the corner of my eye, I saw Kellan a few rows in front of me, still searching. The flowers in his hand were a sodden mess.

I tried to speak above the rain, but my voice felt hollow. "Kellan."

He heard me and swung his head my way. His eyes lowered to take in the dual headstone at my feet. I watched him inhale a calming breath, then step toward me. It could have been the cold, but he was trembling when he reached my side. He stared at the grave with blank eyes. Without a word, he squatted before them. He brushed his fingers over his mother's name, then his father's. Then he placed his hand on the wet grass right in front of their gravestone and closed his eyes.

Even though the rain was pouring around us, spilling down his cheeks, I saw the telltale tracks of tears leaking from his eyes. I placed my hand on his shoulder in silent support. When Kellan opened his eyes, they were watery, and I had to force down the knot in my throat. How long would these people continue to hurt him? Tenderly, lovingly, Kellan placed a bouquet of flowers under each name. The significance broke my heart. After everything they'd done to him, every hurtful word, every brutal attack, after making him feel unworthy of any sort of affection . . . he still loved them. I'd thought "Beloved Parents" was a strange sentiment to have on their headstone, but maybe it wasn't. Right or wrong, deserving or undeserving, their son had loved them.

In a voice almost drowned out by the rain, Kellan said his goodbye to them. "I'm sorry I wasn't what you wanted, what you needed." His eyes drifted to his mother's name. "I'm sorry I ruined everything for you." They shifted to his father's. "For both of you." He exhaled a shaky breath, raindrops exploding from his lips. "I wish things had been different for us, but . . . wishing doesn't change anything. So, I just wanted to say goodbye . . . and-" He swallowed; his face held so much pain, it took everything inside me to not start sobbing. "I love you both."

When Kellan finally stood, he sniffed and his jaw quivered. I wrapped my arms around his waist, comforting him as best I could while swallowing back my tears. He held me close, his eyes still on his parents. After another moment of silence, he asked, "Do you think they would be proud of me? Even just a little?"

His voice broke, and I squeezed him tighter. I considered breaking our all-honesty pact and lying to him, because how could I possibly tell him what I really thought about his asshole parents? But I didn't. Instead, I told him, "I don't know . . . but I am so proud of you. For everything you've done, for what you just did."

I couldn't stop the tears then as sympathy for him overwhelmed me. Seeing me fall apart made him fall apart. He nodded, trying to keep it together, but then his fingers went to his eyes, and a small sob escaped him. I drew his head down to my shoulder, and he clutched me tight. Burying his face in my neck, he cried-cried for what he'd endured, for what he'd lost, and for what he'd never had.

When we were both emotionally spent, Kellan rested his head against mine. The rain had eased along with Kellan's tears, and only a light drizzle was falling on us now. "I love you, Kiera . . . so much."

I brought my lips up to his, tasting his tears along with the rain. There was a peaceful solemnity around us as we kissed-no birds chirping in the sky, no cars driving by, just the light splashing of rain falling from sodden leaves that could no longer hold the weight. The silence was cathartic.

An unnatural flash of light got my attention. I thought it was the sun finally showing itself, maybe glinting off the metallic foil of a nearby bouquet, but there was a familiar whirring and clicking sound that went with this odd ray of light. Breaking apart, Kellan and I simultaneously looked over to see a man near a clump of trees taking our picture. Some ambitious paparazzi must have followed our cab out here, hoping to get the money shot. And he had. That photograph of Kellan kissing me in the rain would go for thousands, I was sure.

Kellan's face twisted into irritated disbelief. "You have got to be kidding me."

My compassion for Kellan's pain mixed with my feeling of isolated frustration. The combination shifted and morphed into a blazing inferno of anger. I was so done with all of this pseudo-drama. The Kell-Sex supporters, the media, and Nick and Sienna could kiss my ass! And so could this man who was interrupting a very private moment.

Hands clenched into fists, I started stalking over to him. He liked that. His camera clicked even faster. "Have you no common decency! We are at a freaking cemetery!" I tossed my hands in Kellan's direction. "The man is clearly grieving! Show some goddamn respect!"

I was only a few feet away from the man now. He was grinning ear to ear, loving every single second of me going off on him. I could practically see the dollar signs in his eyes. It boiled my blood. He wouldn't be so amused when I smashed that pretty camera into little tiny pieces. I started to lunge for him, but Kellan grabbed my arm.

"No, don't-"

The cameraman shifted his attention to Kellan. "You stepping out on Sienna? This your dirty little mistress, Kellan?"

Kellan swung me behind him and shoved his finger in the photographer's chest. "She is not my mistress! You watch your fucking mouth!"

Still snapping pictures, the man backed up a step or two. "Sure looks like you're banging this bitch behind Sienna's back. Can't hide your little secret anymore. I got you, man! Gotcha red-handed! Your little slut is about to make headlines!"

Kellan smirked. The photographer probably thought he was amused, but I knew better. He was ticked. He was beyond ticked. He was three seconds away from clocking the guy. Fists clenched, he swung his weight around and landed his knuckles along the man's jaw. Oops-make that one second away from clocking the guy.

The photographer lost his balance and landed on his hip, hard. His camera fell from his hands, but being attached to his neck, unfortunately it didn't break. Quickly recovering, the man scooped it up and resumed taking photos. "You just fucked up, man! I'm suing your ass for assault now!" Even though there was blood trailing down his chin from a cut on his lip, the man was smiling.

Kellan took a step forward, but I pulled him back. This could quickly escalate way past assault if I didn't get Kellan out of here. "Come on. He's not worth it, Kellan."

Kellan's eyes swung to mine. "He's got your picture."

I sighed and shook my head. "Then he's got my picture. It's not worth getting arrested over."

Reluctantly, Kellan let me pull him away from the man who was now giggling at our misfortune. Venom in his voice, Kellan snapped, "You're scum, you know that, right?"

The man shouted back, "I'm not the one dicking around on the hottest girl in the world! What the hell are you thinking!"

Turning away from him, Kellan muttered, "I'm married to the hottest girl in the world, and I would never dick around on her, asshole."

Even though my body felt numb with cold dread, I looped my arm around Kellan's waist and smiled up at him. "Maybe it wasn't the smartest move . . . but I'm so glad you decked that guy."

Putting his arm around me, Kellan looked back at the man still taking our picture. "Me too."

Holding our heads high, the two of us walked back to our taxi. All of my attempts to keep myself out of the spotlight were in vain; I was out now. Thanks to that jerk-off's high-grade telephoto lens, my intimate moment with Kellan was about to be front page news. They would all know my face. My anonymity was gone, along with a good chunk of my freedom. I couldn't hide in plain sight, not anymore. The crazy, obsessed Kell-Sex fans were all going to know about me. It was only a matter of time.

When we got back to the venue, I thought we'd be hustling into the warmth and safety of our bus. But Kellan had other plans. Holding my hand, he led us to Sienna's bus. I tensed-not sure if I wanted to go in there-but Kellan's face was as stormy as the low-hanging clouds in the sky, and I knew I couldn't miss this confrontation.

Calling Sienna's name, Kellan pounded on her door. Just as I began to believe that she was out, or waiting for the show to start at our swanky hotel, Thing 1 opened the bus door. After eying us for any visible weapons, he stood aside to let us in. Once I walked inside, I wondered why Sienna ever left this place. It was luxury on wheels. Smooth leather couches lined the sides of the front half of the bus. The back of the bus had plush reclining seats facing a giant TV. There was a full kitchen off to the side, and from what I could tell, no sleeping cubbies. I was positive that Sienna's room in the back was finer than most studio apartments. I suddenly felt like I'd been living in squalor these last few weeks.

Sienna was draped across one of the couches reading a fashion magazine. She looked up at our entrance. "Kellan, Kiera, what a nice surprise." Her eyes darted to the window, most likely checking for photographers. "What can I help you with this fine afternoon?"

Kellan stormed over to stand right in front of her. Thing 2 rose from his recliner in the back, clearly not liking the look on Kellan's face. "Did you set us up?"

I snapped my eyes to Kellan, not realizing he'd jumped to that conclusion. It was a completely plausible scenario, though, and I shifted my gaze to stare at Sienna. Had she set us up? Sienna tilted her head, confusion on her comely face. "What on earth are you talking about? And did the two of you take a fully clothed shower? You're absolutely soaked." She snapped a finger and put her hand over her shoulder. On command, her bodyguard brought her towels from a closet in the hallway. She handed them to us while Kellan answered her question.

"Kiera and I were ambushed by some asshole with a camera. I ended up clocking him, but not before he snapped Kiera's picture."

Sienna gave him a knowing smirk. "Those little insects can be quite intrusive, can't they? Well, don't worry too much about hitting him. I'll have my people take care it. Toss them enough money, and nine times out of ten the paparazzi won't seek legal damages."

While I squeezed the water out of my hair, Kellan narrowed his eyes. "You tip him off?"

Sienna pouted as her dark eyes searched his face. "I had no idea where you went. How could I possibly give someone your location, if I didn't know it?"

Kellan's eyes narrowed as he studied her. "I never know if you're telling me the truth, or if you're feeding me bullshit." I hid my smile. I never knew that either. And, just for that reason alone, I knew Sienna would never have him. Even if something happened to me tomorrow, and the pathway to his heart was clear, Kellan would never date someone that he couldn't trust.

Ready to leave, Kellan tossed our towels on the couch and pulled me toward the door. Seemingly irritated, Sienna reiterated, "I had nothing to do with this. I'm not some mastermind out to sabotage your relationship. I just roll with whatever life gives me, and I suggest that the both of you learn to do the same."

Kellan looked back at her, fire in his eyes. "If I find out you had anything to do with this, we're done. I will pack up my shit and walk away from this tour, and I don't give a fuck what Nick does to me. Let him sue me for breach of contract. I won't be played anymore."

Later that night, I stayed in the dressing room when Kellan took to the stage, choosing to listen to him through the speakers but not watch him. I had too much on my mind. The photo was going to be out in a few hours, by the morning at the latest. The buzz when the sun rose in the sky would be so loud, it would probably wake me up. My stomach clenched. God, I hated being the center of attention-this was worse than every first day of school, new job, interview, birthday party, and graduation jitter I'd ever had. Walking down the aisle suddenly seemed like a piece of cake.

The loss of my anonymity affected me physically. It was as if I'd been wrapped in a windproof, fleece-lined, down-filled, zero-temperature blanket, sheltered from the cold, protected, and safe-and then I'd had that blanket ripped from my skin. I felt bare, exposed, raw, chilled to the bone. Kellan was a private person too. Was this how he felt, talking about his life to complete strangers? Maybe, but he had the love and admiration of his fans to keep him warm. I wasn't going to get a rosy reception from them. I was a roadblock to Kellan, and from all I'd seen, the fans either wanted him with Sienna, or they wanted him for themselves. There was no third option.

I couldn't control how the fans reacted to me, but I knew that how I reacted to this was my choice. I could keep hiding away, never setting foot outside the bus, and hope that the drama died down soon. Or I could take a stand and proudly walk beside my husband. This kind of exposure was the last thing I'd ever wanted, but I didn't feel like hiding anymore. Kellan and I had worked too hard to get together, to stay together. I didn't want to go back to square one. I didn't want to feel ashamed over what we had. I loved what we had. I felt like screaming to the entire world that Kellan was mine, and he always had been.

Jenny and Rachel were watching the boys perform, since they were flying back to Seattle early tomorrow morning. Anna was keeping me company . . . sort of. Crashed out in a comfortable chair, her mouth was open and she was slightly snoring as she took a power nap. I guess her afternoon with Griffin had worn her out. Knowing that either way Kellan and I handled this shit-storm heading our way, tomorrow was going to be different than today, I nudged my sister awake.

She startled and looked around, murmuring, "I'm up, Mom." Blinking, she glanced up at me. "Kiera? What the hell time is it?" By the look on her face, you'd think it was three in the morning.

"It's still early, the guys are still onstage."

She laid her head back and closed her eyes. "Then why the hell did you wake me up?" She gave me a crooked smile. "Johnny Depp was massaging my feet."

I smiled at my sister, then remembered what I wanted to do. "Tomorrow is going to . . . well, suck. So I wanted to do something tonight, while I'm still relatively unknown." Anna cracked her eye open, and I added, "I need to do something. Will you come with me?"

Without hesitation, my sister started standing, or trying to anyway. Folding around Maximus was no easy task. I helped her to her feet, and the only question she asked me was, "Where we going?"

When I told her what I wanted to do, she put her hand on my forehead. "Who are you, and what have you done with my sister?"

I batted her hand away. "I'm someone who is done hiding. I want the world to see."

Anna smiled at me, pride clear on her face. "Then let's do this."

Anna and I slipped out the back, unnoticed, and twenty minutes later, a cab was dropping us off at a tattoo parlor in a questionable part of town. The cab driver had assured us that they were the best in Philly, and were open late most nights. Considering that they were situated across the street from what looked to be a biker bar, I thought their late hours was probably a smart business move.

A bell in the door chimed as we opened it. Anna's eyes lit up as she took in the photos of skin art around the room. As we both examined a photograph of a woman with a cascade of stars trailing up her side and bursting across her chest, Anna told me, "I can't believe you're doing this." Slinging her arm over my shoulder, she added, "My baby sister is growing up."

Rolling my eyes, I shrugged her arm off. As I turned toward the front counter, Anna brightly exclaimed, "I should get one too." Bending over, she pointed to her ass. "Griffin's name, right here. Then he can kiss it whenever he pisses me off."

"You would be bending over all the time then."

Anna gave me a highly inappropriate grin, and I quickly changed the direction of the conversation. That was one mental image of Griffin I did not need to have ingrained in my head. "Maybe you should wait until after Maximus arrives to get a tattoo."

Anna sighed, tucking her hair behind her ears. "I suppose that would be a good idea." She laughed. "Guess I should try being responsible every now and again."

I laughed with her, rubbing her burgeoning belly. "Wouldn't hurt."

Her fingers cupping the child in her womb, Anna groaned, "God, I hope he arrives soon. I'm so sick of being pregnant!"

I was about to ask my sister if she was finally going to fly home, or to our parents', when an attractive man came out of the back. Every square inch of his arms was covered in colorful tattoos that reminded me of Evan's. He had gauges in his ears too, just like our D-Bag drummer. "Just don't give birth in my lobby, please."

Anna smirked at him as he extended a hand to us. He had a tattoo on the meaty part of his thumb that read No Regrets. I couldn't have agreed more with the sentiment, and I considered getting that tattooed somewhere on me too, but not tonight. I had other plans for tonight.

"Name's Brody. What can I do ya for?"

After shaking his hand, I pointed to the inside of my right wrist. "I want my husband's name, right here."

Brody nodded. "Popular spot. What's the lucky man's name?"

My grin burned brighter than the sun. "Kellan."

When Anna and I left the shop, my wrist covered in a thick bandage, I reconsidered ever getting another tattoo. A needle digging into your flesh over and over wasn't exactly a wonderful experience. And I was sort of a wuss about pain, anyway. It was far, far down on my list of favorite things. Truly, it was miracle that I'd sat through the entire procedure. The second that machine pierced my skin, I almost shot into the air and vanished out the door. I think I would have, if the tattoo had been anything other than Kellan's name.

We had another show in Philly tomorrow, so Anna and I took a cab back to the hotel instead of returning to Wells Fargo Center to finish up the concert. Anna was tired, and I just wasn't in the mood for listening to the thunderous reaction of Kellan and Sienna closing out the evening with the passionate duet that had started this whole mess. So Kellan didn't worry when he couldn't find me, I texted him and then lay down in our bed to wait for him, wearing only my underwear and a light T-shirt.

I was more exhausted than I realized and fell asleep not long after setting my head down on the pillow. A body sliding into bed with me stirred me back to life. His skin was cool and a little damp, and he smelled like the citrus body wash that the hotel provided. He must have hopped into the shower before hopping into bed. I shivered as his chest pressed against my back and his arms and legs wrapped around me. "I'm cold," he murmured. "Warm me up."

Wanting to help him out, I flipped around and cocooned him with my body. Pulling his head into my neck, I kissed his cheek. He groaned in delight. "You're so warm . . ."

I smiled as I ran my hands over his chilly back, warming him with friction as well as skin. His lips brushed over my neck, and the temperature of my skin stopped slowly decreasing as desire kicked in. His mouth found its way to the electric spot at the base of my neck near my collarbone, and I suddenly felt red hot. Instead of pressing against his body to warm him up, I started pressing against his body to rev him up. It didn't take long.

Rolling me to my back, he settled himself on top of me as he worked his lips across my throat and up the other side of my neck. In my ear, he husked, "I love it when you make me hot."

He pressed his hips into mine for emphasis, and a low moan escaped me. He was ready for me. The hard length of him being teasingly out of reach was enough to fully ignite me. I'd had such an emotional day that a satisfying release was exactly what I needed right now. Kellan too, probably.

Feeling frantic, I found his mouth and started clawing at his boxers. Kellan didn't question my enthusiasm. He just went with it and started tearing off my clothes. I felt like crying out with every place he touched me-his mouth over my chest, his hand sliding down my hip, his finger sliding over my sensitive core. Back arched and breath needy, I was ready for him to claim me. He was ready too. Breathing heavy, he angled his hips so that just the tip of him entered me. I grabbed the pillow under my head with both hands. Knowing how much he loved it when I begged him, I exhaled, "Yes, God, please . . . yes."

I was expecting him to plunge deep inside of me. I was expecting to scream out in ecstasy. I was going to clutch his hips and encourage him to take me hard and fast instead of his usual slow and steady. I needed him to work me over, to satisfy the ache escalating with every second.

But he didn't take me. He shifted to my side. I groaned as the aching shifted to the edge of painful need. I kissed his chest and threw a leg over his hip. I would take him if he wouldn't take me.

Kellan seemed distracted, though, as he held both of my hands. "Kiera?"

I ignored the question in his tone as I got him back into position. It was tricky, since he wasn't letting go of my hands, but I weaseled my hips over his and shifted down so the tip of him was back where I needed it.

Kellan let go of one of my hands to still my hips from pushing down on top of him. His hand shifted so that his thumb slid against the thick bandage of the wrist he was holding. "What is this?" he whispered, voice tight.

I groaned as I forced more of him inside me. I'd forgotten all about the tattoo once his hands and mouth had started riling me up, and it was about the last thing in the world that I cared about now. "It's for you," I moaned, successfully pushing myself onto him.

Kellan hissed in a quick breath. I thought his hand on my hip might move me away, but he pulled me into him instead. "Oh God . . . what is it?"

Our joint hands laced fingers while our hips began to move. I could barely focus on his question as he filled me, absorbed me. I clutched him to me as short, erotic moans filled the air. "Your name," I murmured, when I could speak.

"What . . . why . . . ? Oh God . . . God, Kiera . . . you feel so good . . ."

Forgetting his question, he groaned and clutched me tight. Our lips found each other's and all coherency was lost as our bodies pressed and pulled against each other in a steadily increasing tempo. I could feel my crest approaching, and my short, quiet bursts of sound turned into long, needy cries. It hit me like a wall, and I squeezed Kellan tight. A deep, satisfied groan left him as he climaxed.

Panting, he rolled onto his back, pulling me onto his chest. "What . . . ?" he asked.

Giggling, I sat up on his now-warm chest. "What, what?"

Swallowing, he took a moment to collect his thoughts, then he grabbed my hand so he could examine my bandaged wrist. "What did you do?"

Sitting up, I turned on a small lamp by the nightstand so he could see exactly what I'd done. He cringed in the sudden brightness, then his eyes widened and his jaw dropped open as he understood just what the bandage was hiding. As I carefully peeled it back to reveal the shiny ink staining my skin, his face grew even more disbelieving.

As we both stared at the swollen, glistening letters of his name upon my flesh, Kellan was silent. I started to think that maybe he hated it, and he just didn't know how to tell me, but then he looked up at me. Eyes shining, he murmured, "You know that's permanent, right?"

Smiling, I reattached the gauze and told him, "You know you're permanent, right?"

He looked away, like he found that hard to believe. Then he looked back at me and smiled. "Yeah, I know."

I feigned surprise. "You're not going to argue with me, call me absurd?"

He cupped my cheek. "Well, I still think you're absurd, but I'm not going to argue with you about spending the rest of your life with me."

I lifted a brow in challenge. "Because you know I'm head over heels in love with you."

Kellan smiled. "Yes."

"And you know you're a good man."

He hesitated, then nodded. "Yes."

"And you know you're worthy of being loved."

He frowned, and I thought here was the point where I'd lose him, but after a long moment his lips evened. "Yes." His voice didn't even quaver, and pride shot through me.

I leaned in to kiss him, but Kellan pulled back. "And you know you're sexy, intriguing, adorable, and the only person I'll ever be in love with. You know you're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen."

I saw the dare in the depths of his midnight eyes, and my peaceful smile grew wider. "Yes, I do."

"Good." Flashing a triumphant grin, Kellan finally let our lips connect. "I love hearing you say I do." I giggled and he added, "And I really love your tattoo."

Grabbing his face, I pulled him back down to the mattress. "Good, because I really love you."