Page 49 of Vengeance

Instead of explaining, she surprises him by walking to stand in front of him, and he turns his seat to face her.

“Are you feeling guilty? Because I know it can be a lot to take in, but you did what you had to do. Plus, you didn’t technically kill him. It was either shoot him, or he was going to do something terrible to you. I’m personally glad it was-”

“I don’t feel guilty. I probably should, but there’s a lot I’ve done in this life that feels much worse than that.”

His eyes rake over her body, and he lingers on the knee-high boots peeking through a slit in her flowy dress. The bodice of her shirt is tight and shows off her cleavage, with a jean jacket covering her arms. She looks amazing, and he wants nothing more than to reach out and touch her. But he lost that right a long time ago.

“Kimmy, what’s going on here? You’re scaring me. Are the kids okay?”

“I assume so. They’re sick of my shit, too, so they don’t reach out unless they need something. If they were in trouble, they’d reach out to one of us.”

“I don’t want you to think I’m unhappy to see you, but I really need you to tell me what you’re doing here. You’re scaring me.”

Swallowing, she looks down into his eyes. “I needed to see you. To talk to you.”

“About what?”

“Are you really okay with your new position with the club? The demotion?”

The question feels like it comes from left field, and it’s the last thing he expected to come out of her mouth. Her perfectly plump lips wear a dark red lip stain he wants to kiss. “What?”

“Not being the President. Are you really okay with it?”

Haven’t we already talked about this? “Yeah, I am,” he says.

A month ago, Chicago may have thought a little longer before answering, but not anymore. He’s accepted and understands things differently than before, and he found a way to push aside his pride for the best of the club. It’s not a time to be selfish, and it’s not personal against him. He knows this, and he understands.

Kimberly steps closer and stands between his legs, her hair tickling the sides of his face as she bends slightly, her eyes still staring into his. “Did you mean what you said that night at the house?”

“What did I say?”

Fingernails trace his jawline, and he shivers involuntarily. “That you never stopped wanting me? And you never let anyone else share your bed while we were still married? That you take full responsibility for what happened between us?”

“You mean, did I mean everything I said?” he asks with a smirk. “Yes, I meant everything I said. Each one of those statements is completely accurate.”

Her lips find his, and he sits momentarily stunned. Hands cup his face, and he gives in, licking the seam of her lips and moaning when she grants his tongue access to hers. As much as he enjoys this, alarm bells sound in his head. Loud, blaring alarm bells. This doesn’t feel right. She never comes to him like this.

His hands grip her hips and gently push her backwards. “Kimmy, stop. I don’t know if this is some type of vulnerability thing that will confuse you and create more hurt, but I don’t want to be the reason-”

“I need to know,” she interrupts.

“Need to know what?”

Tears fill her eyes, and he stands, his hands gently touching her cheeks. Her lip quivers as she says, “That you still want me like you say you do. That I’m still the face you see whenever you’re with someone else.”

The crack in her voice breaks something inside him, and even though he knows it could hurt later, he needs to give her comfort. He pulls her against him, his mouth claiming hers this time, and her fingers claw at him. Before he knows it, his jeans slide down his legs. The primal need for the woman he hasn’t felt in years kicks in, and he picks her up, shuffling his feet until they reach the wall to press her back against it.

Kimberly pulls the hem of her skirt up, and Chicago tears at her panties. His arm hooks under her left leg, and he thrusts into her, forcing her up the wall with every upward motion of his hips.

“Dallas,” she moans, her fingers in his hair.

Gripping her ass, he slaps his body against hers, his lips on her neck, and he growls as she moans deep in her throat. He lifts her right leg, and her ankles intertwine behind his back. Her hands pull at his face until they look into the other’s eyes, and his lips claim hers again while he continues moving in and out of her until he’s on the verge. Knowing she’s not there yet, he moves his hand between them and shifts to allow his thumb access to her clit, applying the added pleasure she needs.

Her eyes lock with his while he continues rubbing her, and he stills inside her. She gives him a watery smile, and the look makes him freeze. Will she regret this? Does she already regret it?

“Kimmy, why are you crying?”

“I forgot.”

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