Page 39 of No Second Chances

She doesn’t even acknowledge the fact that I’ve come home, let alone that I say anything to her. So, I do what anyone with a brain would do in my situation. I pull out my phone, lean against the counter out of her eyesight, and start to videotape the entire thing. After all, she has something against me, so it is only fair that I have something against her. Plus, if I’m lucky, I may be able to scare her enough to make her pee herself.

“Kennedy.” I say her name on the video, so I’ll have proof that I tried to get her attention when shit goes south. “Kennedy, can you hear me?”

I shouldn’t be surprised when she starts dancing. She has to have her earbuds in if she can’t hear me from five feet away. But the sight of her like this, at home enough to enjoy herself while doing something as mundane as cleaning, hits all the right buttons.

She doesn’t even have to clean my house or cook or anything like that. But Kennedy, the woman I love, is barefoot, in a pair of pajama pants and one of my shirts. She is comfortable in my space, in the only place in my life that is free from chaos.

Her shimmying hips distract me, and I almost miss the turn. But not the shriek and the sponge that hits me in the chest.

“What the fuck, Linc?” She clutches her heaving chest and sinks to her knees. “You almost gave me a heart attack.” She pulls the white earbuds out of her ears, leaving them on the floor while she tries to catch her breath. The whole time, she glares at me like I’ve just murdered her best friend in front of her.

I hold out the phone and waggle it slightly, just to get her attention.

The outraged gasp is more than enough.

“I’m going to murder you in your sleep,” she fumes while scrambling to get up off the ground. “I almost peed myself, you jerk. Why would you do that?”

“Because I could.” I end the video and set my phone on the counter. “I gotta tell you, Kennedy. Seeing you here, barefoot and just… happy. It does something to me.”

When she steps into my arms, wrapping herself around my body, I almost forget my surprise.

“Before anything else, I have a present for you.”

She leans back, surprise in her eyes at the thought that I may have gotten her something. “What is it?”

“One sec.” I move back and wave a hand at her. “Close your eyes.”

I do not expect her to close her eyes. No. I expect her to glare at me and cross her arms and demand that I stop playing games. But she doesn’t. She closes her beautiful eyes and holds out her hands so that I can give her the surprise. And right there, I know that I’m going to do whatever it takes to fix myself. To get a handle on the post-traumatic stress that is hanging over my head like a hurricane ready to burst.

When she feels the cold metal of her machete touch her hand, combined with the grip that looks like it’d been handmade for her, Kennedy’s face lights up, even if she doesn’t open her eyes.

Laughing, I press a kiss to her forehead, careful not to press the massive knife into her body.

She opens her eyes and hits me with the biggest smile I’ve ever seen in my entire life. “You found it?”

“Yeah, I did.” I do not tell her where I found it, though, because that isn’t a conversation that I want to have. Ever.

“I figured my dad would have thrown it in the dump instead of telling you where he hid it.” Kennedy cradles the precious thing against her chest and practically dances around the room with it in her clutches. “I’m so happy he gave it to you. What did you have to tell him to get it?”

Dumbstruck, I just let her talk. “You know.” I finally manage to put two thoughts together. “Every single time I think I have a handle on you and what’s going on in your head, you throw me completely for a loop and knock me on my ass without even trying.” She pauses her dance, sets the machete down on my coffee table, and sits on the edge of the couch.

“What’s wrong?” Her smile fades, and I join her on the couch, pulling her into my arms so that I can feel the steady rhythm of her heart against my body.

“Nothing. Nothing at all. I just wasn’t going to tell you about your dad hiding it because I didn’t want you to be mad at him. You do that a lot, cut through the bullshit to get right to the point. It’s the most refreshing thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life. I didn’t know how much I missed until I got to have you in my arms again.”

Tilting her head back, I kiss her with everything I have. I hold her chin between my thumb and forefinger while I press my lips against hers and wait for her to open them. When she does, my tongue meets hers in a fiery blaze, hunger devouring every inch of my body.

When her arms wrap around my neck, we shift, and Kennedy somehow ends up straddling me on the couch with my back pressed into the cushions. She takes command of the kiss, gyrating in time to the matching thrusts of our tongues.

The friction of my pants rubbing against my dick is almost too much to handle, and her body pressing down only makes it worse. I can feel her heat, the desire and need for our bodies to be one, and the intensity of our situation grows with every second that passes.

Kennedy pulls back, gasping for air. Her eyes are wild, full of fire dancing on air. “I’ve waited for so long, Linc. Let’s go.” She scrambles off my lap and pulls me by the hand until I follow her.

“I mean, we could have done it right there on the couch,” I point out as she leads me up the stairs. “Or right here. I’ll do it anywhere you want, Kennedy. Just as long as I’ve got you.”

“Shut up, Linc.” She smiles over her shoulder, and if I hadn’t been wearing pants, I might have blown right there.

As it is, I barely make it into the bedroom without turning into a fuckin’ caveman and throwing her over my shoulder. But I know her better than she knows herself. Kennedy needs to be in control. At least at first. So I let her. I let her guide me into the room and push me back on the bed. I sit there while she strips faster than I could have ripped the clothes from her body, standing in the soft white glow offered by the overhead light, without a single self-conscious bone in her body.

---