Page 29 of Twisted Thorns

"I guess I know what you'll be doing tomorrow, then." I smirk.

Kieran barks out a laugh, startling Conan to jump off his lap and throw a scowl in our direction. I don't think I've heard him laugh before. The need to hear him laugh again crawls its way into my chest, making a home for itself.

Kieran turns back to the television, and I can't resist the opportunity to drink my fill of his strong jaw and black lashes.

Even with all the evidence Kieran gave me, the videos and photos to help fill in the gaps in my memories, it still doesn't feel real having him next to me, so relaxed and at ease. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. I just can't shake the feeling that there's something around the corner, something that neither of us can see, but it's stalking us all the same.

We continue watching the show, sitting side by side. Eventually I notice Kieran's hand a hairsbreadth from mine. As the episode continues and the contestants move on to a technical baking challenge involving caramelized white chocolate, Kieran's thumb brushes against my pinkie.

Ever so gently, he caresses my finger, each soft sweep sending a jolt through me. I try to focus on the bakers and their sudden hatred for white chocolate, but my entire world is narrowing down to the feeling of Kieran's skin on mine. How can this man I can’t remember feel like the soft embrace of home?

Heat flares between us, as taught as a bowstring, and I resist the urge to rub my thighs together to soothe the ache that is quickly building between my legs. My mind is screaming at me, telling me I don't know this man who sparks such intense desire with just a glance in my direction, but I feel pulled to him in a way I can't explain.

I feel like a fish on dry land, gasping for words to explain the turmoil I'm feeling. "I just wish I could remember..." I trail off. Kieran says nothing, but his eyes speak volumes. "I know I have the emails and pictures and everything else, but..."

"It's not the same as remembering." Kieran finishes for me. "I understand. Honestly, Lina, I have no idea if your memories will come back or not. Of course, I hope they do. I'd love for you to remember. But I'm a realist. I'll understand if they don't. I'll just make new ones with you now." His lips quirk up at this last part, a smirk gracing his features that twists my insides and sends heat swirling to my core.

Kieran may remember me, but I only have a handful of interactions with him, and this flirting feels out of my element. I try to think of another topic to switch to when it dawns on me. "Wait, what did you call me?"

A furrow forms across Kieran's brow and the corner of his whiskey-colored eyes crinkle. "What do you mean? Lina?"

"Yes, no one calls me that."

"I do," he rumbles. "Does it bother you?"

I stop and think. "No, I like it." I smile at him. "Do you know what caused my accident? No one seems to know."

"No, I looked into it and have been following leads, but they all dried up. I’ve got someone looking into it again.”

“What kind of leads?”

Kieran turns towards me. “It wasn’t an accident, Lina. Your break lines were cut.”

"Wait, so someone caused my accident?" Alarm barrels through me. Until now, the theory was that something must have startled me, like a deer, since the doctors ruled out all medication conditions that might have caused the accident.

"It appears so. Don't worry, I'll find out who did it. I'll make them pay." Kieran grows this last part out.

I lick my lips at his statement, a movement Kieran's eyes catch and immediately snag on. My breath hitches as every inch of my body is aware with startling clarity how close Kieran is to me. I can't help but wonder what it was about Kieran's anger that feels like a warm embrace instead of a threat, why his fierce need to protect me has warmth spreading across my body.

It was while contemplating the intelligence of my body when Kieran moves as quick as lightning, caging me against the couch with his powerful arms.

"Tell me to stop and I will, Lina," he whispers before bending head to my shoulder, my neck automatically tilting to give him more space.

A rumble escapes him as he gently kisses the spot below my ear, catching my breath as easily as he catches my earlobe between his teeth, gently licking and nibbling.

My hands wrap around him, pulling him to me as he moves to claim my lips, his eyes darkening like the night sky. My mind races with the sudden knowledge that this was what I have been craving. This is what I have been looking for.

Amanda set me up with Mickey James, who tried to be charming, but completely failed. I wanted honest and upfront, so I felt protected and safe. I wanted to be seen for who I was and not the image someone else wanted me to play pretend at being.

It feels surreal until I realize that, unlike me, Kieran had never forgotten. While I can’t remember our time from before the accident, Kieran does, and the images he shared with me confirm that.

With his broad frame encircling me, I can feel the power and control emanating from him. As his knee found its place between my thighs and his grip on my hip and neck tightened, I’m reminded that yes, Kieran knows exactly what I want.

I melt against him, spurred by the knowledge that I don’t have to hide from him. His lips nip at mine and pleasure surges through me.

I moan, hands trailing up his back to grip at his hair, holding him still while I arch into him.

"Fuck," he groans, and his hand sweep up my hip and around my breast, gently squeezing and teasing my nipple through my top. His hand moves to the back of the couch, while his gaze snares mine, igniting a blaze within me as he ever so slowly shifts his weight forward, his knee pressing more into my core.

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