Surviving the Rich-Sunshine and Sir Ch. 09

Its been a long time since I posted a chapter to Literotica, and I apologize. Life kicked me in the teeth, and when I dragged myself up it kicked me again, and then again, and again, and again. I kept writing, but it reflected my state of being, which was dark. Maybe one day I'll publish The Fourth Horseman. Its rough but I did come to love the characters. In the meantime, welcome back to Killian and Rae's story. I've got the next chapter about a paragraph away from being complete, and I hope you enjoy.

Sunshine Cove

An itch manifested in the back of his mind, a nagging reminder that there was something he had to do. Something important. Killian opened his eyes and a smile spread across his face. Rae was asleep in his arms, her face relaxed. Content. The Lion In Winter had become an infomercial about a juicer, the screen alternating between bright and super bright. He kissed Rae's head and gently disentangled himself. Her eyes flew open as he got off the couch, and she sat up looking around confused.

"It's alright," he said, brushing a hand down her cheek. He turned off the television and the room was plunged into darkness. As she started to stand he scooped her up in his arms. "Let's move to the bed."

She sighed and wrapped her arms around his neck. "You don't have to carry me. I can walk."

"This way only one of us fully wakes up."

"Sweet of you," she whispered, already drifting back to sleep.

The quiet of the house was insulating, the whistling wind and slow lazy creak of branches outside so familiar they faded into the background. He strolled through the halls, in no rush, thoroughly enjoying her arms around him. The feel of her lips caressing his neck followed by soft exhales across his collarbone were waves gently breaking on shore and rolling up the sand. Soft and soothing, the steady rhythm of her breath was so entrancing, a vision of Rae on a hammock between two palm trees manifested in his mind. At that moment the wind went from a low whistle to gusting moan, and he rested his head against hers trying to recapture that oasis of warmth and contentment. It was so much more appealing than the bone chilling cold battering the house.

Rae lounging on a hammock in a bikini as the salty sea air ruffles her curls.

But it wasn't right. She'd be uncomfortable in a bikini, no matter how incredible she looked in one. Each step he took was accompanied by another gust of wind, and he started up the stairs transforming the gusts into an island breeze.

A one piece, or a vintage two piece, like a 1950s pinup, with a wrap fluttering across her thighs. He smiled, the picture coming into sharper focus. Both a deep red, accentuating her curves, and her curls.

She looked amazing in red. He envisioned her smiling as the hammock swayed, reaching for him, wanting and needing what only he could give her. He breathed deeply his smile growing, Rae his oasis from the cold. He painted the picture, filling in the details with every step. Once he had it fully envisioned he held onto it, saturated himself in it, vowing to live it. A vivid imagination had given him an escape from his father when he was a kid, and years spent in near crushing poverty had sharpened it. A skill that had served him well a hundred times over.

He reached the top of the stairs and turned towards the faint yellow glow at the end of the hall. He'd left his shower light on thinking they might need it later, or more accurately Rae would. He placed a foot on the corner of the door and quietly shoved it open. Light poured from the bathroom onto the king size bed, while the rest of the room was shrouded in deep shadows, the chair next to the window almost appearing to float out of the darkness.

He stood next to the turned down bed not quite ready to let go of his oasis. The blinds were up giving him a clear view of their reflection in the window. She looked so vulnerable, and that protective urge surged through him. He almost chuckled, half expecting her to wake up and tell him to shove his knightly urges up his ass. But it was the choice to be vulnerable, to trust him in this manner that made him want to stay in the moment, to stretch it out and make it last. Trusting he'd take care of the P.I. made sense, it was what he did for a living. But sleeping in his arms like this was more than embracing her desires, it was embracing her feelings for him, and trusting his feelings for her. And that trust went both ways.

When he left the house that morning he never could have foreseen telling her about Billy Harris and the childhood that went with that name. Only two others knew him that intimately, his sister and his ex-wife Camilla, not even Stella knew. She was aware of Calvary and the guidance he gave to the attorneys that took them on, but she didn't know of his personal connection. It was a vulnerability he kept hidden, compartmentalized, and disassociated from his public persona. No one needed to know his past and the pain that came with it. He softly pressed his lips to Rae's head, and held her even closer. In some ways they were very much alike.

Rae burrowed into his embrace and sighed, her lips puckering ever so slightly against his skin. Silk on peaches, the sensation almost undid him. She did that, every day. Unraveling him down to the core, and making him not only want but need her. Her presence calmed him, it inspired, warmed, titillated, and excited him. Sometimes all in the span of a minute. He'd felt her absence the past week in New York, seeing her everywhere and in everything.

He looked at their reflection one more time, loath to let go of this moment, knowing this newfound trust was tenuous and could fade away when night became day. But she was trusting him to take care of the threat first and foremost, to protect her and her daughter, and he swore he wouldn't fail her. He took a deep breath and laid her down.

Her eyes opened briefly and she rested a hand on his cheek, giving him a sleepy smile. "Killian."

Heat flooded his chest, her voice moving through him like a quake. He covered her hand with own and kissed her softly. After a moment her hand got heavier and her breathing evened out, the hint of a smile still hovering about her lips. As gently as he could he rested her hand on her stomach and covered her with the sheet. She didn't stir, and he left the room, quietly shutting the door behind him.

The wind grew to a high pitched keening as he walked downstairs and he almost grimaced at the thought of going back outside. Whereas before every noise faded into the background now they echoed through the house like gunshots, each crack and creak hitting him in the gut. He didn't want to discuss the legal and ethical ramifications of what he was doing with Rae. She wouldn't approve, he already knew that. But in this instance keeping her life free from intrusion required crossing into territory outside the law. Territory he waded into from time to time. She'd learn the truth of that sooner rather than later, but not tonight if he could help it. Opening the hall closet, he slipped on shoes and a coat, then grabbed a flashlight and latex gloves from the kitchen.

The moment he stepped outside the wind tried to topple him. Icy, tiny knives cut through his coat and he burrowed in deeper protecting his neck. Frozen grass crunched underfoot, and clouds streamed behind him as he retraced his steps to the bushes. Putting on the gloves he fished the camera out of the prickly branches and quickstepped it back into the house. He'd only been outside a few minutes but the cold had managed to work its way to his bones. He shook it off as best he could, threw his coat over a chair, and pulled open the drawer next to the sink. Grabbing the intruder's phone and wallet, he headed for his office. He and his sister had developed survival skills when they were young and moving from place to place. Pickpocketing was one of them. They made themselves valuable to older, more streetwise kids, and in return those kids looked out for them. He paused, his hand on the knob, and cocked his head to the side, listening for movement upstairs. After a minute of silence, he opened the door and went to his desk. Pulling a thin laptop out of the bottom drawer he set it on his desk and turned it on. He'd turned adversaries into allies after a particularly difficult case; made difficult mainly because of their skills. The laptop was outfitted with software they'd designed. It more than skirted the law, but they weren't the types to balk at that. They loved, in their words, sticking it to the man. He'd been grouped in with those considered the man, and at first they refused to deal with him. Eventually they'd reached an understanding and developed a partnership that was mutually beneficial.

He connected the phone to the laptop and typed in the code. While the software scanned the phone he opened the man's wallet and took out his driver's license. Stu Lyons was forty-nine, about thirty pounds heavier in the photo, and lived in an apartment in Cicero. He scanned the license, sending it to a file on his home computer and put it back. His eyes flicked to the laptop as item after item popped up at lightning speed. His hackers were talented.

He scanned every item in the wallet and put it back just as he found it, then picked up the camera. Out of the hundred plus photos, over twenty were of his confrontation with Mark in the garage. He lingered over the couple of Rae putting her hand in his. The way they looked at one another ignited that warmth in his chest. She chose to go with him, and it was reflected in her eyes.

The next few photos were of different vantage points around his home. Stu had obviously been looking for a good shot from the street and surrounding properties, but all he captured were empty windows and blowing branches. And then there he was, standing at the glass door beer in hand, looking out into the night. His jaw clenched at the invasion of privacy, and he looked at every photo keeping his fury in check. His arousal was more difficult. Rae was a vision, and to see the ecstasy in her eyes and curve of her lips as he dominated and possessed her crowded his mind with an array of possibilities. There was so much he wanted to explore and experience with her. He rolled his neck, the temptation to go upstairs and wake her almost overwhelming.

"Focus on the task at hand," he muttered, ignoring his growing erection.

After going through every photo he deleted most of them, leaving only a few shots of the house for the authorities to see. The laptop had finished its fishing expedition and was loading software to the phone, so he took the camera to the garage. He shut the door as a precaution, even though he knew no sound would reach Rae on the other side of the house. Picking a point on the wall he swung, putting all his strength behind it. The camera flew through the air and smacked into the wall so hard the crunch echoed through the room. He smiled, watching the camera hit the floor and bounce its way towards him. When it finally stopped rolling, he picked it up and tried to get it working. It flickered like a strobe for a full minute before he turned it off. The right person would be able to fix it, but until then Stu would be scrambling to produce for whomever hired him. Killian almost wished he could be there when Stu discovered none of the scandalous photos were on the camera.

Going back to his office, he emailed everything he'd scanned to his hackers as the software finished with the phone, then sent them a message about the laptop, requesting they prioritize the information and promising a lucrative bonus in return. Gathering Stu's things he went into the kitchen, put his coat on and ventured back into the freezing cold. Lobbing the camera into the bush, he dropped the phone and wallet close to the spot he first tackled Stu. He took one more look around the yard, then glanced up at his bedroom window and smiled, the biting wind suddenly little more than a light breeze.

Once inside he pulled off the latex gloves, and after cleaning everything up activated the alarm and headed upstairs. His mind was focused on Stu Lyons and who hired him to invade his life. He wondered how much the man would reveal to police, and whether he'd tell them about Rae. It was a card he could keep up his sleeve and try to use later. Or he could tell the authorities the truth and it would end up in a police report.

Killian opened the door to his bedroom and shut it, the latch clicking loudly. Rae jerked in her sleep and he froze, berating his thoughtlessness. Her head moved from one side to the other and her legs shifted under the sheet, then she abruptly turned on her side. Ringlets of red and gold whispered across her face and she raised a hand absently swiping at the offending locks. Snuggling deeper into the pillow, her hand dropped next to her chin, one solitary curl being blown across it with every exhale. He could feel the smile on his face spreading, that contentment and joy she inspired chasing away that last bit of cold from his fingers.

Rae under his roof, in his bed, exactly as he wanted. He breathed deeply, the sweet scent of her tickling his nose and shooting down to his groin. Crossing the room on silent feet he pulled the bathroom door till it was almost shut, leaving a thin sliver of light shining across the floor for Rae. Then he walked around the bed, keeping one eye on her, and closed the blinds.

He suddenly thought of that first call to The Hillcrest. Rae's voice had flowed through the phone and caressed the back of his neck, demanding his undivided attention. He leaned over the bed and reached out to brush that one errant curl back, trying to pinpoint when his appreciation turned to desire. As the curl blew outward he slid his finger into the corkscrew and gently pulled it off her face. Voice, smile, and curls; they'd always drawn his attention. But his awareness of her had crept up on him, slowly working its way into his psyche until it just was. Her long eyelashes cast the faintest shadow on her cheeks, a feature most missed. But he noticed. He noticed everything about her. He let his fingers glide over her hair, and the urge to entangle his hand within and crush his lips to hers almost overwhelmed him. Protect and ravage, and everything in-between.

He pulled his shirt off and threw it on the chair by the window. Walking around the bed, he slid under the sheet and snuggled up to Rae, careful not to disturb her. As his body connected with hers his muscles unclenched and all the tension melted away. He wrapped an arm around her and buried his nose in her hair, trying to quiet his mind and drift off. Seconds stretched into minutes and he breathed deeply, the mimosa mingling with Rae's own scent doing little to calm his body. She permeated his senses, filling every corner and crevice until his skin was thrumming. Visions of her in various stages of undress bombarded his mind, her plastered up against the sliding glass door taking center stage. He wanted her. He wanted to feel her submission again, to see it in her eyes.

She mumbled under her breath and leaned into him, turning her head a touch. Brushing a hand down her hairline he studied her face, the slight tightening of her eyes and mouth making him wonder what she was dreaming about. When her nose scrunched ever so slightly the adorableness was impossible to resist. He kissed her nose smoothing out the crinkle and slid his fingers along the hem of her shirt.

She opened her eyes and looked at him, but at the same time appeared to be looking through him. "My house is across the lake," she said matter of factly. "I like taking this boat, that way I don't have to share."

He smiled and softly pressed his lips to hers. "You're dreaming sunshine."

She blinked a couple times trying to get her bearings. "Killian?"

His name on her lips. The rush rolled down his spine, his dick rising higher. He stroked her stomach, her skin hot beneath his fingers. Kissing his way to her ear, he breathed deeply, nuzzling her lobe with his nose. "What do you see?"

"The boat is in your room," she whispered. "Your room is the boat."

"And me?"

"With me on the bow."

"Day or night?"

"Night. Are you coming with me?"

"Always," he said, the flower petal softness of the skin beneath her ear getting his undivided attention. "If you'll have me."

A tremble ran through her and a quiet aah escaped her lips. Suddenly she turned fully into his embrace and slid her arms around his neck. "I missed you," she whispered, her lips possessing his. "I wanted to call you, to hear your voice. I love your voice too you know."

He smiled around the kiss, thoroughly enjoying her passion. But under the influence of her subconscious she wasn't entirely with him, and going any further made him uneasy. He broke the kiss, reluctantly, and grasped her face. "Rae, sweetheart you're still dreaming."

All at once her eyes widened and she blushed. "Twilight dreams."

"Twilight?"

She cleared her throat and said, "I was half awake and half asleep. That place in between. I saw and felt you, but we were here and in my dream at the same time. I'm sorry, I-"

He stopped her apology with a kiss. "Are you kidding? You told me you missed me, loved my voice, and were taking me to your lake house."

"My lake house? It's always just me."

Except this time, and that made him want to go back, to make it not just her lake house but theirs. He pulled her body entirely beneath his, the warmth and softness inviting as it cushioned him, molded to him. His gaze was drawn to her lips and he traced her mouth with his thumb, that smooth satin line impossible to resist. "Do you want to continue?"

Her lips parted, the quickening of her breathing cascading over his fingers. She looked at him through those long lashes, and the tip of her tongue brushed his thumb. "Yes," she whispered.

His chest heaved as a shudder crawled across his shoulders. "Are you awake enough?" If she wasn't he was going to make sure she was.

"Enough." She clenched his hair and pulled his lips to hers. Her fingers wound and unwound, massaging his head, her kiss downright demanding. His own hunger surged and his hands roamed, caressing, pinching, and stroking. Devouring. Her body flushed, her breath hitching in her chest. "Killian." His name lingered on her lips, the heat heavy in the back of her throat.

"Keep your eyes closed," he said, his voice quiet and soft, bellying the driving urge within to unleash, to ravage. "We're on the boat, the gentle sway hypnotic as the current pulls us to the opposite shore."

"Just us."

He slipped his hand back under her shirt and ran his fingers around her naval. "Not another soul as far as the eye can see."

A long sigh tickled the small hairs on his neck and his erection started throbbing. She was wearing far too much clothing, but he forced himself to keep it slow, to let her take them to a special place of hers he knew nothing about. He held her head, kissing his way across her neck. "Is the moon bright?"

"It takes up half the sky."

"Vacation house?" He slid a hand around her hip and grasped the top of her thigh where it met her butt, getting a good handful of both. Spreading his knees, he tilted her hips up and rocked forward, pinning her to the bed.

A low moan rattled in the depths of her throat, and she raked her nails up the back of his head. "Dream house."

His whole scalp tingled, and when she raked her nails back down, swirling the tips around the base of his neck, a rushing gale of aching pleasure exploded behind his ears. Tremors rocked his body and he wanted to flip her over, grab hold of her hair and take her hard. Own her. He took in a ragged breath instead and tenderly kissed her forehead. "I can't wait to see it."