Page 21 of Killian's Vengeance

I scowled at him. “Shut up,” I griped as I headed toward the stairs.

I heard him laughing behind me. “That’s what I thought.”

Chapter 11

Willa

Istared up at the ceiling from the comfort of Killian’s, my kidnapper's, bed and wondered for the millionth time if I had completely lost my mind. Why was I still here? Even though it was the middle of the night and I was in this ridiculous outfit, I should run out of here and never look back.

I should, yet here I continued to lay. As I did a mental review of my behavior since Killian released me, not one moment of it made any sense. I’d let him flirt with me, boss me around, kiss me and for some reason, I was still here.

If I was being honest with myself, I knew the reason. I was more attracted to Killian—my kidnapper and tormentor—than I had been to any man I’d ever met. What the hell did that say about me? It certainly explained why my past relationships with “nice guys” had never worked.

Apparently, I liked bad guys. And Killian was kind of a bad guy. He was aggressive and domineering, demanding and stubborn. Based on the discomfort he’d displayed, it had taken all of his resolve to apologize to me and ask for my help, even though he had clearly been wrong. He bossed me around and threatened me with punishment, even though he needed my help.

But he was also oddly protective, my heart warming as I remembered him jumping to shield me from his crazy friend, Cullen, who looked absolutely determined to snap my neck. He was also ridiculously hot, emanating dark, sexual masculine energy that felt like a body blow.

I craved the feel of his large, muscular frame against me, overwhelming me with his power, his seductive knowledge. The way his eyes blazed with sensual intensity with every command he uttered, and when he threatened to punish me, I was alarmed to realize I didn’t find it disturbing. I was intrigued and turned on. When he flogged me, it had opened my eyes in a way I hadn’t expected and now I wanted him to show me more.

Not that I’d admit that to him.

I’d been laying here for at least an hour willing myself to go to sleep. I was afraid what would happen if Killian returned and I was still awake. Afraid of what I would allow him to do, would encourage him to do. I had confidence in his attraction to me, that was hard to fake and there was no mistaking the long, hard length of his erection stabbing into me while he gave me a massage.

However, I also knew he needed me. He needed me to help find Lily, though I think they have grossly overestimated how much I could help them achieve that goal. They were going to be quite disappointed when they realized just how little I knew about Lily’s life. He also needed me to not rat him out to the cops. Even the thought of turning him in had my stomach doing somersaults, every particle of my being resisting that choice. I didn’t want to get him in trouble, but I had no idea why. What did that say about me?

Questions and self-recriminations continued to whirl in my mind like a mini tornado. I was never going to fall asleep at this rate. Adrenaline was practically burning through my system, firing every nerve cell. I was more anxious in this bed right now than I had been earlier when I thought Killian might kill me.

At least when I’d been tied to the bed, it had been by force. However, as I laid here tying myself into knots of self-doubt and self-flagellation for my reckless impulsivity, I had to accept that staying was my choice. I wasn’t being forced, so justifying the choice to stay was that much more challenging and uncomfortable.

Sure, what Lily had done was horrific and devastating. Helping them would be the morally correct choice, but no one would blame me for getting the fuck out of here as soon as possible either. I just wasn’t ready to make that choice. And that’s why I felt so messed up.

All too soon, I heard the scrape of a key in the lock and held my breath, not sure who I was more anxious about entering—Killian or his enraged, terrifying friend, Cullen.

I rolled over and closed my eyes, pretending to sleep. My heart was pounding, and my breathing resembled a steam engine, so I don’t imagine the pretense would last long.

Then I’d really have to make a decision.

I heard clothing being shifted, then the covers being pulled back and my body turned to a piece of granite. Killian’s warm body slid in behind me and I somehow stiffened further, still saying nothing. A breath of laughter tickled my ear. “You don’t honestly think I believe you’re sleeping, do you?”

I let out a breath, my body relaxing fractionally. “I wasn’t pretending to sleep, I was trying to go to sleep,” I said crossly, totally lying.

“Right.” His arm slid around my waist, his bare legs tangling with mine. Fortunately, I’d had the wherewithal to put my underwear back on. Lord, that would have been a green light. Not that inviting him to sleep in bed with me wasn’t.

“So, is that guy still pissed?”

Killian’s hand slid under my dress, not surprising because it was so damned short, and rubbed the skin of my lower waist and hip. The rough caress sent chills throughout my body. “He’s always pissed, but I got him to calm down a little. He should leave you alone, but if he doesn’t, you let me know.”

“Definitely. He’s pretty scary.” I had no plans to be alone with Cullen. Ever.

Killian grunted. “We’ve spent a lot of our lives swinging first and asking questions later. It’s a hard instinct to break.”

My eyebrows jumped at him revealing more personal information. He’d dropped a hint about his childhood, but quickly changed the subject. I was eager to hear more. “It sounds like you guys have known each other for a long time.”

“Mm. Since we were kids. Me, Cullen, and Mac.”

My stomach tightened at the sound of Mac’s name. This man—I didn’t even know his real name—who Lily had helped destroy, who was the reason I was lying next to Killian right now. I felt a wave of secondary guilt over what happened to him, even though I didn’t have anything to do with it. There were many times I felt guilt by association about something Lily had done, but this was by far the worst.

As if feeling my tension, Killian’s hand moved from my hip, sliding over the sensitive skin of my stomach and moving in light, soothing circles. Instead of soothing me, the light touch of his rough fingers caused tingles of delight and pleasure to skitter along my skin. I pressed my thighs together to control the pulse that flared to life between my legs.

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