Tessa Teevan - Inflame

“What I thought would be a summer of fun turned into almost four of the best months of my life, followed by the worst nine as I watched you date that guy from seven thousand plus miles away.”

Her smile turns earnest, almost rueful. “The day you left for Afghanistan, I was devastated, and that’s when I knew you were so much more than my best friend. At the time, I realized I couldn’t do casual anymore, because you’d basically ruined me for all others. What I didn’t know was that you didn’t just ruin me for casual flings, but for any other man. I’m not proud of it, but I tried to forget my feelings for you while I was dating him, yet in the end, they’d only grown stronger.”

“We’re kind of a sad pair, right? All that time wasted because we didn’t want to admit that we had feelings for each other. Until him,” I tell her, rubbing my hand over her belly.

“Maybe not sad… Stubborn, perhaps? Oh well. It doesn’t matter now. When I found out about Sprout, that became the new happiest day of my life, but it was also one of the scariest. And I hope that telling you about Tim can kind of help you understand why I was so hesitant to jump into a relationship at first. I was terrified that the only reason you were expressing feelings for me was because of him. At the same time, I realize how hypocritical that was, because I didn’t tell you how I felt until then either. And I know how unfair it was to project what my father did onto you, but I couldn’t help it. It felt like the past repeating itself, and it scared the sh–er, crap out of me. Which is why I shut you out. I don’t know if I’ve ever said it, but I am really sorry for that. You were so sweet, so gentle and reassuring, and all I could do was kick you out of my apartment and ignore you for the next two days. It’s a wonder you even put up with me.”

Leaning in, I press a kiss against her forehead before looking directly into her eyes. “I put up with you because I love you. Because I want to spend the rest of my life with you. You’ll drive me nuts, I’ll make you pull your hair out, but at the end of the day, it’s you and me, and I wouldn’t change that for the world.”

“You mean you and me and baby,” she teases, lightening the tone of the night.

“True, but it was you and me first, and you’ll always be first for me, Lucy. I appreciate you telling me all that. It does kind of put things into perspective for why you were so resistant in the beginning.”

“I know, and I should’ve been honest and open about it from the beginning, but it was just hard, you know? We’d been whatever the hell we were for so long that the thought of opening up and changing everything was too frightening to even think about. I guess we have this little guy to thank for pushing us to finally be truthful with one another.”

“I know I’ll be thanking him for the rest of my life,” I tell her. “Now, come on. It’s been a long damn day, and I want to get to the hospital first thing in the morning to see how Lily’s doing.”

I watch as her eyes soften, and she brings a hand up to caress my face. “She’s going to be okay, Kale. Like she said, the worst was that they shaved her hair. If that’s not a sign that she’s thinking clearly, then I don’t know what is.” Lucy lets out a small laugh, but I can’t bring myself to find any humor in the situation. I know she’s just trying to keep things light, but I can’t help the overwhelming sense of guilt that seeps back in.

“When she’s home without a bandage on her head and with healed ribs, I might believe you,” I tell her, and she sighs softly.

“Kale, you cannot blame yourself for this. Even Xavier knows it was an accident. You’re just going to be miserable if you keep beating yourself up. That won’t do you any good, and it won’t do Lily any good. You saw her, babe. She was fine. She was laughing and chatting, and she was more than happy to see you.”

I know she’s right, but she wasn’t there. She doesn’t have the images and the sounds replaying over and over in her mind. “I can’t stop seeing her, Lucy. I should’ve been able to stop her, but she was just too damn fast. I was supposed to protect her. She’s my goddaughter for crying out loud, and I couldn’t even keep her safe. What the hell kind of father am I going to be?”

“Oh, Kale,” she whispers as she moves in closer so her belly’s pressed up against my abs. She grabs my hand, brings it down to rest on her stomach, and looks deep into my eyes. “Every single day, you show me what an amazing father you’re going to be. From the moment I met you, I’ve known that. And when you saw Lily tonight, you should’ve seen that, too. She didn’t feel a single ounce of blame towards you, and at the end of the day, there was nothing you could’ve done.”

She leans up and gives me a slow, lingering kiss on the lips before pulling back. “Whatever you’re thinking, Montgomery, you need to stop. I love you. Lily loves you, and Sprout’s going to love the hell out of you. Now get some sleep. We’ll go see her in the morning, okay?”

Nodding, I give her a small smile before she turns over, settling in with her back against my chest. “I love you, too, baby,” I tell her, and I mean it.

As we lie in silence, I replay her admissions over and over in my mind, and I wonder just how in the hell I’m going to get up the courage to finally tell her all about my past. Everything she said just scares me even more, because I don’t want her to feel like she’s a replacement—or that Sprout is—for everything I lost so long ago. But now that I know the history of her biological father, I’m terrified she’s going to find some sort of link between me and him, and I decide, probably foolishly, that her knowing about what happened all those years ago isn’t important. At least not for now. I know it’ll probably come back to bite me in the ass, but I’m taking the coward’s way out.

As I start to drift off to sleep, I see Lily in my mind and I hold onto Lucy even tighter, knowing that if I ever lost her, or Sprout, my life would be over.

Lucy

IT’S BEEN over a week since I gave that heartfelt admission to Kale and he still hasn’t opened up to me about his past. Every day we’ve gone to the hospital to see Lily, and every day he was on edge. After three days, the doctors were satisfied that her brain swelling had gone down and they were ready to discharge her. Kale and Xavier made sure she came home to a princess’s welcome, and after I showed her in the mirror that her bald spot couldn’t be seen, her spirits were lifted.

Watching Kale with her this week has been eye opening. He’s been so gentle, caring, and he’s been watching her like a hawk, never letting her out of his sight whenever he’s around her. I’ve caught Xavier’s eye a few times, and he just gives me a sad smile and a shake of his head. In his house, I almost feel like an intruder, knowing there’s some secret Kale and Xavier share and I’m not privy to the information.

After a week of his holding me at arm’s length, at least emotionally, I’ve decided I’m dedicating this night to us. Sure, he’s been holding me close every night, but any time I try to talk to him about Lily, he shuts down. He’s not the Kale I’m used to, and while it’s not exactly scaring me, it’s bugging me deep down to the core. Like Xavier predicted, he watches my every move, and he almost freaked out this morning when he saw me standing on a stepstool so I could reach the brown sugar in the back of the pantry. He’s treating me like fragile glass, and while I appreciate his protectiveness, I feel like I’m about to explode with need, rage, and pure, unadulterated lust if I don’t get him to touch me—and if I can’t get him to feel something other than guilt and anguish.

I’m back in the bedroom when I hear the front door open and shut. We parted ways this morning as I went to spend the day with Charlie, planning her engagement party, and he ventured off to Xavier’s, once again to make himself feel better by seeing that Lily was up and kicking.

“Baby, I’m home!” I hear him shout, and I settle into the bed, waiting for him to appear.

He doesn’t disappoint when he enters the room, his eyes widening as he takes in the scene before him. I’m propped up on a few pillows, candlelight illuminating the room. I’m wearing nothing but a satin white nightie with thin material that does an amazing job of highlighting my nipples before it splits just under my breasts so my belly’s exposed. On the edge of the bed is the box, and I watch as his eyes darken when he spots it. Slowly, he begins to unbutton his shirt as he edges towards the bed, shrugging it off. I inhale sharply at the sight of his bare-naked chest, his jeans riding low on his hips. My mouth waters as I take in the sexy-as-hell V that’s practically pointing to the bulge that’s now pronounced in his jeans. He slowly unsnaps the button, and I bite my lip in anticipation, a move that causes him to give me a sly smile.

“What’re you up to, baby?” he asks, his head gesturing to the box.

As I slowly sit up, ensuring that my breasts push together, I give his jeans a nod. “I’m not up to anything, but he sure seems to be ready.” I wink and watch as he slowly slides his jeans down until he’s standing in nothing but gray boxer briefs.

When he opens the box and pulls out a pair of leg cuffs, he makes quick work of capturing my ankles, sliding them on, and securing them before I can protest. Looking up at me, he gives me a wicked grin.

“You sure you’re up for this, baby?” he questions, and I nod, almost ready to writhe with need for him.

As he takes out handcuffs, he moves up the bed and straddles my waist, bringing his face down towards mine. He takes hold of both of my wrists and moves them over my head, a metal cuff fastening around each one and then being attached to the rungs on the headboard. He pulls away from me and admires his handiwork.

“You are so sexy, Ms. Dawson,” he whispers, reminding me of the way he first fucked me, and my thighs clench together in anticipation of what’s to come. I let out a moan, and he gives me a promising smile.

He sits back on his heels as he starts to dig through the box. A huge grin spreads over his face when he pulls out an item, and when he holds it out for me to see, I realize it’s the Wartenberg wheel. I was hoping that’s what he’d go for, and my Kale, as usual, doesn’t disappoint. He tests it out first on my foot, running the pinpoints of the wheel against my bare skin, each point pricking my skin. Shivers run through my body at the contact, a mix of slight pain and ultimate pleasure, and I can’t wait for him to run it over the rest of my skin.

This pregnancy has heightened all sensation, and I’m more than excited to finally play with him. I hope that giving him this control will help alleviate some of his stress from this week. I know he feels out of control where Lily’s concerned, so if restraining me and having his way with me helps at least a little bit, I’m more than game.

Slowly, he slides the wheel up my leg, and every single nerve ending stands on edge as each little pinpoint moves over the surface of my skin. My gaze doesn’t leave his, and he continues to move up my leg, peppering soft kisses along the way. By the time he gets to the tops of my thighs, he increases the pressure ever so slightly, and just when I think he’s going to move between my legs, he surprises me by drifting up my hip, bringing the instrument around to the bottom of my belly. I inhale sharply as he places his free hand on my stomach, caressing gently before following with the cool stainless-steel wheel. With just light pressure, it glides across my skin effortlessly, and the combination of pleasure and pain has a fire burning deep between my legs. We’ve only just begun and already I’m ready to beg for him.

He must see the need in my eyes. His hand moves up to cup a breast, his fingers giving it a slow, gentle massage. As he shifts on the bed, he moves so he’s straddling my waist, his boxer-clad growing erection resting against my belly. His dark eyes gaze down at me, and the look of pure, raw desire is unnerving.

“So goddamn beautiful,” he whispers as he continues his painful trail up my body.

The wheel flows easily around the curve of my breast, and it isn’t until he pushes the satin material away and circles it around my nipple that I finally cry out in a mixture of both gripping pain and undeniable pleasure. My nipple pebbles at the contact, though Kale stops briefly.

“Too much, baby?” he asks, and he gives me a worrying glance.

I try to bring my hand to his but then remember I can’t as I feel the restraint biting against my wrist. “Not too much. They’re just much more sensitive than usual, and I wasn’t expecting it. Don’t stop, Kale. I’m enjoying it. In fact, I want more.”