Page 71 of Dirty As Puck
The words hit me harder than they should. “Safe? You think pushing me away is some kind of protection?”
“Yes.” His answer is immediate, and it feels brutal. “It’s the only way I know how to protect you.”
Something inside me snaps. My hands curl at my sides. “Stop it, Kai. Stop deciding for me. Whatever this is, I deserve to know. I deserve to choose if I want to stand by you. Stop protecting me from whatever this is.”
For a long moment, silence fills the room, and it’s louder than anything we’ve said so far.
His chest rises and falls like he’s running a marathon. My heart pounds against my ribs, waiting, daring him to answer me.
But he doesn’t. He just stares at me like I’m the one thing he can’t bear to lose and the one thing he can’t let himself keep.
The air between us is filled with unspoken words, sharp with frustration and thick with tension. I can feel it vibrating in my bones, the pull of him and the wall he keeps slamming down between us.
Neither of us moves. Neither of us blinks.
And in the heavy silence, all I can think is that something’s about to break.
It’s the thought still burning in my head when Kai closes the space between us, fists clenching like he’s trying to hold himself back and failing. The next second, his mouth crashes against mine. Hard and demanding.
There’s no preamble, no slow teasing like before. It’s hunger, raw and unfiltered, pouring out of him like he’s been starving for years and I’m the only thing that can quiet it.
I gasp into his kiss, but he doesn’t let me go. His hands grip my hips, with urgent need, pulling me closer until my back hits the wall. My fingers fist his shirt, yanking him down to me, meeting his desperation with my own.
We tear off our clothes, his shirt shoved up, mine tugged over my head so fast I barely register it before his mouth is on my neck, my chest, and everywhere he can reach. He’s not gentle. He’s consuming. And God, I need it just as badly.
“Kai––” I choke out his name, but it’s not a protest. It’s a plea, so he doesn’t stop.
He groans against my skin, low and broken, and it shoots straight through me. “I can’t…” His words are ragged between kisses. “I really need you, Rochelle.”
We stumble toward the bedroom, half-blind, mouths locked, hands everywhere, like we can’t get enough. He lifts me like I weigh nothing, my legs wrapped around his waist. By the time he lays me on the bed, we’re both shaking with the force of it.
We lose our clothes and they easily become forgotten. Heat builds, fierce and unbearable, and when he finally thrust himself into me, it’s not careful or gentle. It’s desperate and rough, like he’s trying to bury every fear inside me and lose himself in the only place he feels safe.
I cry out, biting into his shoulders, but I don’t hold back. I meet every thrust with the rolling of my hip, every frantic kiss, every ragged breath. This isn’t softness. It’s fire. It’s two people trying to survive the weight crushing them by clinging harder to each other.
“Rochelle,” he groans against my ear, voice wrecked. My name isn’t a word right now. It’s pure desire in his mouth.
And in that moment, I know. He can’t tell me what’s eating him alive. But he can show me like this, raw, frantic and passionate. Like I’m the only thing keeping him sane.
And I let him. I take it all, give it all back, because if this is how he needs me, then I’ll give him exactly what he needs.
The room is quiet except for the ragged sound of our breathing. My body still aches, my skin flushed and damp, but Kai doesn’tlet me go. His arm is locked tight around my waist, his face pressed into my shoulder like he’s afraid I’ll slip away if he loosens his grip.
I smooth a hand through his damp hair, my chest aching with something bigger than lust. This isn’t just release for him. It’s a means of coping. And lying here, feeling every tremor in his body, I know he’s breaking.
The words are on the tip of my tongue. I need to tell him about Derek. About what I’ve uncovered, the gambling debts, the shadows circling closer every day. He deserves to know who’s really hurting him. Who’s threatening us.
“Kai,” I whisper. My throat feels tight, the weight of the secret almost too much to hold. “There’s something I––”
His phone buzzes on the nightstand, the sound sharp and intrusive.
Kai stiffens instantly, the peace between us shattering like glass. He reaches for it, eyes flicking over the screen. His face goes hard, shutting down so fast it’s like watching a door slam in my face.
“Everything okay?” I ask softly, though I already know the answer.
Kai sets the phone down, turning onto his back, staring at the ceiling. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
The distance hits me like a blow. A minute ago, he was holding me like I was the only thing keeping him together. Now he’s gone, retreating into silence I can’t break.
