Yanking my hands away from his zipper, he laced his fingers through both of mine and then pulled them behind my back. “Turn around.”

His voice was so commanding and thrilling that I immediately did as he said. I swung around on the barstool so that my ass was against his front, my heart crashing through my chest. He still had my arms tucked behind my back with one of his hands, like he was holding me captive. And in that moment I would have stayed his prisoner forever. Would have done anything he asked.

“I’ll help you take the edge off,” he growled into my hair. “I’ll make you feel good tonight.”

Then he slid his palm along my stomach and up the middle of my chest before finally cupping my breast. He huffed out a breath that matched my own. “Shit.”

He pinched my nipple through the fabric of my tank top and I nearly came undone right then and there. I arched my back and swayed sideways, and he adjusted his legs around my thighs to keep me upright. I could feel the swollen length of him digging into my back.

He let go of my arms and in a gruff voice said, “Brace your hands on the bar and keep them there.”

The authority in his voice was making my stomach do somersaults and the area between my legs throb with desire. He’d always been so mesmerizing. Mysterious even.

And in the hospital, I’d witnessed his tender and compassionate side. But I’d always wondered what he did with all those girls, even tried to ask him, but he’d never shared.

I’d fantasized about this very thing. Despite being only a year older, he had definitely been the more experienced of the two of us. But not anymore. I felt confident, completely alive in my own skin, like I could match him turn for turn.

I liked to be in charge, too. “Are you going to fuck me, Kai?”

He drew out a low and long groan that seemed to last an entire minute. Finally he said, “Shit, Rachel. Hearing that from you . . .”

I didn’t want him to finish that sentence. I was afraid it would end with a phrase like “kid sister” or some other term that would ruin this for us. Ruin this image I was evoking for him now. I wasn’t the same girl I had been with Miles. I was someone who could take control and make a man feel good, too—if only he’d let me.

His other hand came around to tug on my other nipple while he sucked on the back of my neck. I moaned and pushed my ass toward him, asking for more.

“Not tonight,” he said, breathless. And I sagged against him in frustration. “But I’ll take care of you.”

My chest flipped at his words. I prayed he’d keep indulging me.

“Tell me what you want,” he growled in my ear.

Now gasping in anticipation, I begged, “Touch me. Please.”

His fingers slid down my arms to my thighs, and I opened my legs with eagerness. His teeth tugged on my earlobe as his hands inched upward.

Finally one long finger skimmed over my denim-covered center, and my chest heaved. I closed my eyes in gratification, my head falling back against his shoulder.

“You like that?” he mumbled.

“Yes.”

Two of his fingers teased along the edge of my shorts. It was a torturous kind of pleasure. Maybe he was deciding whether or not to take this to a whole other level. I held my breath and dreamed he’d keep touching me, ignoring the voice in the back of my head urging me to stop this madness.

His fingers skirted between the denim of my shorts and the silk of my underwear to the area right above my center. “Damn, you’re soaked.”

His hot breath was on my ear, while his other hand continued to cup my breast.

I squirmed on the stool, attempting to get his fingers to travel downward. I was beyond listening to any voice of reason. I only wanted release and I only wanted it from him. I couldn’t remember another time in my life that I’d been this turned on.

Finally the tips of his fingers traveled a couple centimeters south to my epicenter. When he touched my rigid nub through the fabric of my panties, it felt like a million pinpricks were arresting my body. He blew a harsh breath against my hair as I squeeze my eyes tight, hoping he’d keep his fingers there and give me more. So much more.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he said. “And I’m going to make you come on my fingers.”

His words alone sent my senses into a complete tailspin. I felt the anticipation building low in my belly as all of my nerve endings seemed to pulse simultaneously, making my breasts feel heavy and my nipples ultrasensitive.

When his fingers began moving against me, the whole world seemed to halt to a standstill, as if the singular sensation was focused between my legs. He alternated between swirling fast and then painstakingly slow, and then everything began tingling—my spine, my toes, even the roots of my hair.

His hand closed in on my swollen center, pinching and tugging, and I let out a breathy gasp. The slick material of my underwear created a friction that almost sent me skyward. He rubbed his finger up and down my slit and then returned to rubbing my tender nub, all the while breathing against my neck and whispering his intentions in my ear.

“Picture me kneeling between your legs,” he said in a quiet rumble. “You’re spread wide open for me. And my tongue is doing dirty things to you.”

I was whimpering and moving my hips in an upward rhythm against his hand.

“I’m licking and sucking and you taste so fucking good.”

“Oh shit,” I breathed out.

“Would you like that, Rachel?” he murmured.

“Yes. Oh God, yes,” I bit out between clenched teeth.

“Say my name.” His voice was gravelly and authoritative.

I’d do anything he asked at that point.

But I could barely concentrate on saying that one syllable. “K . . . Kai.”

My hips swayed and my ass ground against him.

“Say it again,” he growled as he tugged at my swollen nub.

Warmth spread through my limbs like hot lava and then finally erupted. “Kai, oh fuck, Kai.” Flames licked menacingly at my center, and I arched my spine as I came hard against his fingers.

He stilled the palm of his hand against me as unintelligible words fell from my lips. My legs shook and then gave out as they sank in defeat to the sides of the barstool.

His forearm braced me across my stomach and his other hand brushed my hair away from my neck in a soothing motion. For several long moments I caught my breath and floated back down to the land of the living. His lips swept along the top of my hair before he gave my head one firm and final peck.

“You ever need to work stuff out, you come find me—understand?” I’d become the irritating younger sister again. My gaze flashed up toward him as shock crashed down on me about what we’d done. What I’d done.

He shook his head as if to warn me against speaking, and then his arm tunneled beneath my legs. His other arm supported my back as he scooped me into his arms. My eyes opened wide in alarm as he stalked toward my bedroom. My fingers reached up to run along the scruff at his jaw, and he jerked his face away.

He sat down hard on the edge of my bed and then laid me down on my sheets.

I studied his face, terrified that I’d ruined everything. An enormous amount of guilt and fear and pain swept over me.

His fingers reached out and stroked my hair away from my face in a gentle gesture that confused me even more. Was he angry, or did he accept what we’d done?

There’d been a tenderness in his eyes right before they turned distant. Frustrated. Perturbed, almost.

“Kai, I—”

“Fuck, Rach,” he growled, cutting me off. “Just . . . sleep it off.”

Then he was gone.

I lay there staring at the ceiling, my heart bouncing around in my chest until my vision blurred and I fell into a fitful sleep.

Chapter Six Kai

I was too damn worked up about what had just gone down between Rachel and me. There was no way in hell I could fall asleep right now.