Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 106284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
“You know I’ll have to share with Rogue.” Kit chuckles, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she shoves me through the door.
“I want privacy to talk first.” And fuck.
“Just talk?” Kitty teases, reading my damn mind.
I palm her ass, my cock throbbing at the look she’s giving me. Her eyes glass over, simmering with lust, and her skin blushes a beautiful deep pink.
Closing the door, I flick on the light and stare at the tiny room. There’s a bed, a bathtub, and a toilet all out in the open, not separated by a wall or anything else, with about four feet of space between the front door and the edge of the bathtub.
“What are we doing here again?” I ask.
“Picking up something for the wedding.” Kitty shrugs, hooking her fingers into the waistband of my jeans. “I can’t believe we’re standing here together right now,” she muses, a flash of pain eclipsing the lust from moments before.
“I’m so sorry about what happened. She didn’t take the news of us splitting well.” I stroke the back of my fingers down her cheek. Hating the tears she’s shed there because of all this shit.
“I can understand that much.” She drops her eyes to her boots.
I brace my hands on her shoulders and dip my knees, trying to draw her eyes. “It’s so fucking different between me and you, Kit,” I breathe. “I have so much I need to explain.”
Raising her eyes to mine she says, “In the car, you said you haven’t slept with her to get her pregnant two months ago. How long has it been?”
This is going to blow her mind.
“You’re going to want to sit down,” I tell her, guiding her a few feet to the bed covered in a yellow, flowery duvet. The space is small, but it smells and looks clean. The floor has a beige carpet that divides into cream tiles for the bathroom section. It’s not the perfect place for this discussion, but at least we have some privacy and reprieve.
“You’re making me nervous, Cutter. I don’t think I can take any more surprises.” She nibbles on a hangnail.
“I told you about what happened with Nicolas and Claire and then Claire witnessing me killing him. Well, what I didn’t tell you is Pres was ready to get rid of Claire.”
She bites her lip, nodding. “It’s horrible but doesn’t shock me.”
Of course it doesn’t. Kit knows our life. She lives it.
“Well before he could make a decision, she told him she was pregnant with my kid.”
“So, you saved her twice without knowing it.” Her body jerks like the thought causes physical pain.
“That’s the thing, though, Kit. I’d never been near her, but she’d been so desperate, I lied for her.”
“Wait—” she stutters, getting to her feet almost knocking me on my ass. “What do you mean you were never with her? As in, never fucked her?” A million expressions filter over her face.
“No, I’ve never fucked her in my life.” There it is. The truth at last.
“I don’t understand.” She moves around the bed and puts her back against the wall farthest away from me, her hands outstretched in front of her, forcing space between us. “What are you saying?”
That’s pain in her voice again.
“I was madly in love with you, Kit, but I couldn’t see a way for us to be together. Your dad didn’t want you with me or any brother, and Callan has always made it clear he didn’t want you with a brother.”
The air crackles around us. Her eyes open and close several times while she processes the information.
“So, you married Claire to keep us apart?” she barks, her body bristling with fury.
“No, not just that. Pres pushed my hand with Claire to keep her under control, and I think it was to punish me for him believing I slept with her and knocked her up.”
“And you never thought to tell me the fucking truth? It nearly killed me when you married her!” she screams, smacking a hand to her chest. “It took me forever to come to terms with you betraying me!”
“I’m so fucking sorry, Kit. I didn’t think I could give you the life you deserved.” I step towards her but halt my approach when she glares at me.
“Why does everyone think they get a say in my choices and what’s best for me or what I deserve? I don’t fucking believe this.”
Breathing heavily, she braces her hands on her knees and dips her head. “What about Rocco? He’s not yours?”
“He is mine, just not biologically.”
“Oh my fucking god.” She wheezes, almost hyperventilating.
“I can’t have kids, Kit,” I blurt, admitting to one of the things that has always burdened me when it comes to her. My heart stampedes at the confession.
Looking up at me through thick, wet lashes, she says, “You don’t want them or can’t physically have them?”