Page 86 of Inarticulate

Bliss faded, but Keenan didn’t. There was no retreat. He held her, his hand leaving her pussy to weave around her waist, the other resting gently at the base of her neck. His lips fell to her shoulder, again and again. The peppering of butterfly kisses almost brought her to her knees.

This wasn’t mere carnality. It never had been. Since they first met, something more had bubbled beneath the surface, demanding to be heard through the silence.

She’d been attracted to Keenan at first sight. She’d been intrigued by him before leaving her aunt’s house the night she arrived in Seattle. Her lust had hit a benchmark at the bonfire, but through each day spent together, the most influential sensation was the aching beat in her chest. Her heart was driving this. Her affection was the dictator.

“I came so close to going home.” She met his focus in the mirror. “I planned to leave the day I walked into your father’s office.”

“I know.”

She hoped so, because one wrong move by either of them could put her back in the same position. “Just remember your promise.” She reached over her shoulder and ran a hand through his hair. “If Penny causes trouble again…”

He shook his head, his focus turning determined, demanding she quit her train of thought.

He didn’t understand. He had no clue what it was like to ponder a future with him. To paint the happiness in vivid clarity within a woman’s imagination. She was sure Penny would’ve felt the same. There was little doubt her cousin still did.

“If I were her—” She’d what? Spencer had never inspired feelings that wrought havoc on her system. She’d never been in a relationship where her next breath seemed dependent on someone else, like they were pulling it from her lungs.

Keenan raised a brow, asking the same question.

“I’d fight for you,” she admitted. And there wasn’t the slightest stretch of truth in her admission.

Email

Date: 27thDecember

Subject: Why didn’t you fight?

Savannah,

You said you’d fight. Do you remember?

On Thanksgiving, you said if I were yours, you’d fight. I remember because I held tight to those words, hoping they might save us in the end.

But you didn’t fight. You gave up. You walked away, fled Seattle, and proceeded to ignore every email and text I sent your way. You didn’t even let me explain.

When will you make good on your promise?

Keenan

Chapter Twenty-Six

One nightin his bed turned into two. At first, she’d packed a change of clothes and her toothbrush. Then it was her overnight bag. And more recently, her entire suitcase. They’d morphed from lovers, into a couple, reaching relationship goals she’d never aspired to achieve.

The only nights they spent apart were the ones she refused to share in his presence. Every Monday and Thursday when he held after-hours meetings with Penny. At his house. Alone. It was a routine he assured her they’d been doing for years to combat his restricted communication in the office, and no matter how much she loathed their connection, she had to trust him.

If he wanted Penny, he could have her with the lowering of a pants zipper. Yet he spent every free moment by Savannah’s side. For weeks, they isolated themselves in his mansion. He taught her the basics of sign language, she introduced him to a text-to-voice app that allowed them to communicate when she wasn’t in a position to read his lips or his cell screen. She learned the intricacies of Keenan Black—the ones he allowed her to see—and it seemed she hadn’t scratched the surface of the stories he held inside.

He never mentioned his family. He wouldn’t explain why he hadn’t seen them at Thanksgiving or if he had plans to share Christmas with them. Father and son had a working relationship. Period. She assumed it had something to do with his silence, but she couldn’t gain clarity because he refused to acknowledge the topic. His lack of speech was off limits. And she didn’t have the callousness to push him. Not fully. She always asked questions, and every so often he’d suck in a breath and part those gorgeous lips in what she thought would be a moment of trust. Then he’d shut himself off, escaping in a look of sorrow that made her vow not to ask again.

Once the seclusion of home life became too much, they ventured out. She drove to Snoqualmie Falls while he successfully seduced her with the sterile, robotic sound of text-to-voice. Another day was spent at Point Defiance Zoo, and he’d recently surprised her with a scenic flight over Seattle.

This morning marked the final hours of their first weekend escape. He’d rented an immaculate cabin in Leavenworth. A one bedroom, one bathroom paradise with the prettiest view she’d ever seen through the wide open windows looking out over the snow and the Wenatchee River.

“I guess you didn’t want to join me?” She poked her head outside the bathroom door and finished drying herself with a towel. He was a slave to work, but every time she showered, he wound up naked beside her. Whenever she began preparing meals, he discarded all his communication devices and pitched in. And whenever she was in a wicked mood, unable to tear her suggestive stare away from him, he’d pour her a glass of wine and taunt her with his smirk until they became a mass of tangled arms and legs and lips.

He was carnal, successful, and cavalier.

He was perfect.

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