Page 47 of King of Depravity

“Killian,” I start. He’s not actually proposing that I should live with him, is he? “I can’t…”

“We don’t have to move into one of Mason’s buildings, but you’re not going back to that shit apartment with feeble locks and girls who will cower in their rooms if there is trouble.”

“I appreciate what you’re saying but?—”

“If you’re trying to tell me I can’t order you around, I should remind you, I’m not much for following rules.”

“You can’t order me around, actually,” I straighten, throwing a glare of my own. But his points about my apartment not being very secure are sound. I’m just not sure I’m ready to uproot my life and live with a guy I just met.

“I know how to piss people off, or make them nervous, that’s for sure.” He pushes up to standing, his feet spreading out into a wide defensive stance. Does it bother him?

“You don’t make me nervous. I like that you say what you’re thinking, because then, I never have to guess.”

Then I lean back over the sink, pushing the comforter deeper into the hot water.

But before I’m done, Killian is behind me, his arms wrapping around my middle, his stomach and chest pressing to my back. “Thank you.”

I cover his arms with mine, wet hands and all. Because I’ve just realized that I’m giving him something that’s been in short supply in his life. Acceptance.

“It’s just a big step to live here and we just met…” I look back at him asking him with my eyes to understand.

“Let’s just take it a day at a time. How about that?”

That seems reasonable. It would be nice to paint when I want, take long, hot showers. Sleep in Killian’s arms. I’m not ready to commit, but I can enjoy the moment. “I’m hungry again. Want to get something to eat?”

“You never ask me to feed you,” he murmurs into my hair.

I smile, sinking into his embrace. “I could cook.”

“Tonight, I feed you, you’ve fed me enough today.” And then he straightens but keeps an arm around me to lead me toward the kitchen.

I could argue. Say that all he does is feed me. But I think I’m beginning to understand my value to Killian is beyond his fixation with my ass.

“What do you feel like?” he asks. “Pizza? Thai? Sushi?”

I wrap an arm around him too, burying my nose into his chest. “Pizza. It feels like a carb kind of night.”

He orders up a pizza and we sit in the semi dark, watching the lights of the Vegas skyline shine bright.

I never get to see Vegas like this. My view of the city is usually grit and hardship. From up here it twinkles and glitters. I finally get to see its beauty.

It’s been the strangest, most wonderful day. I’d like to freeze this moment and replay it again tomorrow.

But tomorrow will be a new day and who can say what it will bring…

CHAPTEREIGHTEEN

Killian

I loved sleepingwith Chloe at her place. And I’m not talking about the sex, but about the actual sleeping. It’s not something I expected, the connection of having her body against mine in her most relaxed state, and it’s been the best bonus.

But in my bed, it’s even better. She still sleeps in the cradle of my arms, pressed to my torso, our legs tangled together, but unlike when we’re jammed in her bed, my feet aren’t hanging off the end, the blankets are large enough to cover us both, the mattress is soft enough to settle her even closer.

We went to bed early but it’s nine before we get up, and I think we both needed that kind of sleep.

I might have needed a rest like that for actual years. I can’t remember the last time I slept so well, barely waking, going right back to sleep the few times I did.

Chloe is wearing one of my T-shirts, the fabric now up around her chest. I skate my hand over her hip and up her belly. I’m honestly not trying to start anything, I know she’s going to need a little time to heal after yesterday.

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