Locked Hearts (Chained Hearts Duet 2)

“Oh, good, you’re back,” his mother says then she kisses his cheek and grabs her jacket. She does the same to me with an added smile. “I’ll see you this week, Sailor. I’ll call before I come.” I nod, surprised that she’s now showing me some sort of respect.

She grips her son’s shoulder on her way out. “Walk me to my car.”

Keir’s eyes find mine, but I look away and lift the bottle and drink some more. I hear the front door shut as I make my way to my daughter’s room.

Was it stupid to follow him here when I should have stayed in my old house away from everything?

But did he even give me a choice?

Staring at Wren as she sleeps gives me peace. I’m not really sure why, but somehow it cools my shot nerves to know she’s safe. Would she be safe in this life?

It’s partly my fault we have found ourselves in this situation. I had sex with the most dangerous man I have ever encountered—spread my legs for him and welcomed him with open arms.

Why did the sex have to be so good?

I’m not mad at the outcome, basically because I never thought I could have a child. I tried and tried with Dillan. And when she came along, I didn’t believe it to be real. How could it be real after all of the previous disappointments? So I’m super thankful for her, and even to him for giving her to me. But I am mad at the situation. Just a little.

Leaning down, I kiss Wren’s forehead and turn off her light. When I turn to leave, I almost run into him. Keir’s standing in the doorway, hands in his pockets and lips in a straight line as he watches us. Watches me.

“We should talk.”

I nod, trying to sidestep past him through the door, but he doesn’t move a damn inch. So I push my way through, and my breasts brush against him, which makes his eyes darken a fraction more as he watches me with intent.

“Stop looking at me like that.” The words come out rushed, flustered, almost agitated.

“How am I looking at you?” he asks.

“You know how.”

“Tell me?”

“Like you want to fuck me.”

“That’s because I do.” There’s no remorse, not a care in the world, he simply states what he’s thinking.

“You have a fiancée,” I say and somehow manage to squeeze past him.

“And you had a husband.” His words hurt. “But we both know I don’t feel for her what I feel for you.” He grabs my hand as I try to escape and places it on his dick. I feel his hardness beneath his trousers, and it takes everything in me to not move in closer, to have him touch me.

It’s been a long time since a man has touched me.

Keir was the last.

And I’ve thought about his touch on many occasions.

Pulling my hand back, I move to the couch to get away from him.

This can’t be happening.

I put the bottle of wine down that I have been drinking and decide no more. It might make me do something I don’t want to do with him, even if my body is screaming at me to do otherwise.

“I’ll stay, so you can sleep.” He sits on the couch next to me, giving me no space whatsoever. I hold my breath, the smell of him intoxicating me.

This really isn’t fair.

He isn’t fair.

“You should go. I don’t have the energy to have you in my space right now,” I whisper, not looking his way.

Keir’s hand comes up and touches my chin and his fingers stroke down until he gets to my shoulder. “I’ll leave, but first…” His lips touch my neck, and I exhale at the sensation, the feeling one that I resent but miss so much. If I wasn’t already on the couch, my body would mold into whatever shape he wants. His dark eyes lock onto mine, and in them they hold secrets, weapons that I just don’t want to look at right now. “Just a taste.” His fingers move my face until my lips touch his.

Just a taste, no more, I tell myself.

So why, when his other hand moves my body toward him, do I let him?

And why do I moan into his mouth when he pulls my lips apart and slides his tongue in?

It’s not fair.

I go to push him away but, somehow, my fingers glide over his muscles and my hands tangle behind his head and pull him even closer to me. He takes it as all the invitation he needs. His hands slide under me and lift me ever so slightly before he slips a pillow under my lower half and places me down on it, all while never breaking our kiss.

I’m going to put it down to the wine.