Damaged Elite (The Darlington Elite Book 2) Read online

  She sighs, rubbing a hand over her sleepy eyes. “Do you know how many dates I’ve been on where the guy realizes I don’t eat meat or dairy and I get the,” she pauses, deepening her voice to the tone she uses to imitate any guy who gets on her nerves before continuing, “If you had one of my burgers, you’d change your mind.” I can’t see it, but I know she’s rolling her eyes. “Yes, your super secret ingredients of Jack Daniels and sea salt will make me change my mind about something I’ve stuck to since elementary school.” Her sarcastic tone seeps out even in her sleepy state. “Boys are dumb, and there aren’t many good ones to pick from.” I don’t even know how to take her statement. I can’t be the least douchey guy she’s met.

  I let her push me to lie back down and she settles on top of me, pulling one of her legs up over my hip and making herself comfortable. Her tiny puffs of air and soft lips brush against my collarbone while she shifts, trying to find a good sleeping position, and it makes my dick twitch in a way that only Kennedy can.

  Her hand slides across my chest and around the back of my neck. Her fingers stroke the skin there, then move up to tangle in the hair at the base of my head. “You just let me be me.” I never want her to be anything else. I love her just the way she is. Chaotic, quick-witted, and so fucking caring that no one deserves her.

  I can’t control the urge; I have to have my mouth on hers. I pull her up my body, my hands finding purchase on her ass as I swallow her gasp of surprise.

  I roll my hips and adjust her so that she can feel how much she makes me want her. “Do you feel what you do to me? I can’t be the guy you need me to be, Kenney,” I whisper against her lips when we break our kiss to catch our breaths. “But I can make you feel good.” I let my hand slide between us, and I instantly find the warm wetness of her leggings at the juncture of her thighs.

  “Zach,” she croons my name, gasping at the end and letting her head fall forward against the pillow.

  I’ve never been like this with anyone else—frenzied, wanting to please, wanting to make sure she feels good. With unsteady hands, I flip us over, hovering above her, resting my weight on one arm and using the other to slide down her stomach. “Kenney, tell me you want this,” I plead, and she arches into my touch.

  “Please,” she whispers. And that’s all the encouragement I need. I’ve got her naked from the waist down in seconds and I’m on top of her, leaving a trail of kisses from just underneath her breasts leading down to her navel.

  I try to slow myself down because I want to savor every inch of her delicate body laid out beneath me. I slide my hands up, shoving her top up over her breasts, cupping them gently as I breathe in her sweet scent. Her hands tangle in my hair and her hips buck up as I move lower, and my warm breath puffs out over her heated core. I tease her, kissing her inner thigh, brushing my lips gently across the spot where she wants my mouth, only to move to the other thigh. She’s unusually quiet, but when she feels my breath against her skin, she gasps in anticipation. This time I nip her skin, then suck gently. I know it’ll leave a mark, and the thought makes me impossibly hard. The thought of staking a claim on her, leaving my imprint on her soft, pale skin makes my hips involuntarily buck into the mattress.

  “Last chance to change your mind,” I whisper, and grin when she pulls my head between her thighs. This time my tongue flicks out, giving her what she needs. I’ve never done this with another girl, never felt inclined to take my time to explore, I never wanted to put in the effort. But with Kennedy, I want to know every inch of her body and what it takes to get her to moan my name.

  “Oh, my god.” Kennedy’s voice is sweet, breathy, and unapologetically full of desire for me.

  I groan as I suck on the bundle of nerves that I know will send her over the edge, and the vibrations have her hips bucking up into my mouth. “Don’t stop,” she pleads.

  I slide a finger inside her, and she’s so goddamn tight that even if I lost all self-control and decided it wasn’t a terrible idea to claim her fully, I don’t think I’ll fit inside her without causing her pain.

  “Ahh,” she calls out when I pick up the pace of my fingers, and my tongue laps up the sweet wetness I know I elicited from her.

  “Come for me, Kenney,” my voice rumbles, vibrating against her skin, and her hips buck up into my mouth. I know she’s nearly there, and I reach up to pinch her nipples between the fingers of my free hand.

  My finger slides in and out rapidly, then I feel her body freeze up as she arches back and trembles, her orgasm rolling through her roughly.

  Despite pulling my finger away, I continue kissing and licking. I smile against her skin when her whole body jerks as I hit the right spot.

  “I can’t,” she gasps, reaching down and grabbing my shoulders. “Oh, god.” Her body jerks again and I finally pull away, sliding up her body, my hand finding one of her breasts and my mouth finding her neck. I press soft kisses there.

  “Was it okay?” I ask her, turning her in my arms, and I’m confused when I try to pull her leg up over my hip and she stops me.

  She reaches out and slides her hand down my bare abdomen, moving slower until she reaches the waistband of my sweats. I catch her wrist, sliding her hand back up my stomach because I don’t want to lose the contact of her skin against mine.

  “You don’t have to do that.” I chuckle, because it’s so fucking absurd that I’m turning down the one woman I want more than anything. I just don’t want to take too much from her, things she’ll never get back to experience with the person that’s right for her. The person who won’t hurt her, crush her, ruin her like I will.

  “Fair is fair,” she says playfully, her hand sliding slowly back down my stomach, and I know she’s waiting to see if I’ll stop her again. She’s unsure if I really don’t want her, and that makes my heart clench. When I don’t stop her hand again, her fingers dip beneath the band of my sweatpants, and her small fingers circle my hardness.

  “Did you know I don’t have a gag reflex?” she blurts out in pure Kennedy fashion. It’s the first and probably the only time I’ve ever moaned and laughed at the same time.

  “How the hell do you know if you have a gag reflex or not?” I ask as what she said sinks in. I tip her chin up to look at me, and my hips buck on their own accord when her fisted hand slides up and down my length. “Shit,” I groan.

  “I’ll tell you after,” she says, and the playful tone she uses makes me want to press her to tell me, but I’m not strong enough to stop, even for a moment. I need more, more of her.

  “Please,” I moan, letting go of her jaw and repeating her request from earlier. She quickly obliges, sliding my sweats down. I help her by kicking them off, and her small hands rest on my thighs as she leans over me.

  I let my head fall back against the pillows, cursing myself for letting this get so far, but it’s just another indication that I’m right for knowing I’m not good enough for her. I can’t even keep my word that I wouldn’t let our friendship be ruined.

  But here I am, pleading with her to give me something I don’t deserve.

  “It’s…” she says, reaching out and running a finger up the length of my dick. It jerks in anticipation, and she never finishes her sentence.

  “The rumors are true,” I say. I can’t help teasing her because it’s Kennedy, and that's just what we do.

  “It’s adequate,” she fires back, curling her fingers around my length and sliding up and down so quickly that I groan and grip the sheets between my fingers.

  “Liar,” is all I can get out because just her hand on me feels better than any of the raunchy sex I’ve chased to fill a void that only Kennedy can fill.

  “Tell me if I do it wrong,” she whispers before leaning over, flicking her tongue out over the head. She’s quick to move lower, and I can’t fucking hold myself back. My hands move, seeking and searching for her. I need to feel her. Silky strands slide through my fingers before I fist my hand and gather her hair to the side. My other moves to her delicate
neck and I squeeze gently, encouraging her to continue.

  “Oh my god,” I growl when she opens her mouth wider, flattening her tongue and taking as much of me as she can. I hit the back of her throat and true to her word she doesn’t flinch, but I hear her struggle to breathe through her nose. She swallows hard before sliding her lips back up. I hear her gasp for air, but then she’s back to sucking on the tip, causing me to buck my hips up.

  She giggles when my hand tightens in her hair, knowing full well she’s teasing me to the point of insanity. “Kennedy.” She flicks her tongue and then lets her lips hover.

  “Did you want something?” Her voice is raspy, and I’ve never heard anything so sexy in my life. “Tell me what you want, Zach.”

  “Deeper,” I groan out, and she obliges, sliding her mouth as far down as she can go. She starts a rhythm, sucking and licking while her fingers dig into my thighs. She’s fucking heaven. I let my hand cupping her neck slide down to her breasts. She moans around my dick when I roll her nipple between my fingers.

  “Holy shit.” My nerve endings are on fire when her moan vibrates through my length and I hit the back of her throat again. I’ve never finished this quickly, but I don’t even give a shit. I just want to feel the intense pleasure rolling through me that I know is just around the corner. I tug on her hair, trying to warn her by saying, “I’m gonna cum.” I want to tell her that she needs to pull her mouth away because I know she’s never done this before, but I can’t get the words out. Instinctively, my hips buck up toward her, seeking to shove myself deeper inside her mouth.

  I’m surprised when she moans again, taking me deeper than before, then she swallows hard. It’s enough to push me over the edge. My eyes close, I swear I can’t hear anything as I fill her throat, and her name falls off my lips.

  I’ve never felt so sated and boneless before. I couldn’t move even if I wanted to, but I absolutely don’t want to. I feel her crawl up my body, and I muster enough strength to cocoon her in my arms. I feel her smiling against my neck as my fingers dance down her spine.

  “Okay, tell me how good I am at that.” She snickers, and I can’t help grinning up at the ceiling.

  “You’re ridiculous. What am I going to do with you?” I ask her, nuzzling my face against the side of her head.

  She pushes up, her chest resting against mine, but she’s looking down at me in the dimly lit room. “I just gave you the best orgasm of your life. Admire me or something,” she says seriously, and I burst out laughing, which breaks her serious facade.

  I flip us over so we’re lying on our sides facing each other, and when my laughter subsides, I stroke her soft cheek with my rough knuckles. “You were perfect,” I whisper.

  “The best,” she corrects, and before I have enough time to talk myself out of it, I press a soft kiss to her lips and then one to her forehead.

  “The best,” I agree as she snuggles into me. I’ve never been so intimate with someone before, completely naked, pressed so tightly together I can feel her heartbeat. When she sighs contentedly, I know I’m in trouble because it’s the most comforting sound I’ve ever heard.

  “Strep throat,” she murmurs tiredly.

  “I’m gonna need more than that,” I tell her, my palm on her shoulder blades, grazing down her back and then up.

  “That’s how I knew I didn’t have a gag reflex. The nurse looked at me like I belonged on the street corner in hot pants and fishnets because I didn’t gag when she had to swab my tonsils.”

  I chuckle, the movement bouncing from my chest and shaking her small body. “Ridiculous,” I say again against her hair and pull her into me.

  9

  Kennedy

  I wake up aching in the most delicious way, and it’s like I can still feel Zach’s hands and mouth on me. I’ve never slept so soundly, felt so connected to someone. I reach across the mattress for Zach, only to realize he’s already gotten out of bed. I vaguely remember hearing him griping about having to shovel the cars out early. The boys have an away game at Salisbury tonight, and I’m wondering if it’ll be canceled because of the snow. Henry seemed to think the roads would be cleared overnight by the plows and that everything would be running like normal…whatever normal is anymore.

  I hop up and get dressed in my clothes from the night before, shivering because I can feel the cold air seeping through the room. I should feel nervous about seeing Zach this morning after the things we did and said, but I’m not. I want to see him. I want to be close to him.

  I head over to my room, grab some clean clothes, and hurry to the shower. Once I’m washed up and dressed, I make my way downstairs. I see Everly curled up, sound asleep on the couch with her head rested on Patrick’s lap. He’s absently stroking his hand through her hair while he watches one of Darlington’s recent games on the TV. He’s staring at the screen, but it’s clear his mind is a million miles away. I recognize that look, and I feel for him with his sister’s death. I didn’t know her, but I know what it’s like to lose a sibling.

  “Morning, Patrick,” I say.

  He doesn’t take his eyes off the TV, but he responds, “Morning, Kimberly.”

  I chuckle, heading to the kitchen, but stop short when I see Tommy gripping the countertop. His back is taught with stress, and I’m unsure if I should approach him right now. We have a love/hate sibling sort of friendship, but that was before his whole world was flipped over on its axis.

  “You don’t have to tiptoe around me. I’m not going to snap on you,” he says, but he doesn’t turn around. “Everything is fucked.”

  I walk over to hop up on the counter. He finally looks up at me, and I see the absolute anguish in his expression. “It’s gonna be okay, Tommy. It doesn’t seem like it now, but I promise you it will be.” My heart breaks when I see his shoulders slump in defeat. He’s so strong, and he always finds a way to laugh in every situation. This time is different.

  “I can’t be a father. I can barely be responsible for myself.”

  I bite my lip because I’m not sure anything I can say to him will make him feel any better about the situation, so I just tell him what I’m feeling. “Sometimes, challenging things happen to us. You’ve got all of us, Tommy. We’ll be there to help with whatever you need.” His expression softens for only a moment before I lose him again.

  “I don’t know if that will be enough this time,” he says darkly, before stomping out the kitchen door. I flinch at the sound as it bangs against the doorframe, reverberating through the kitchen.

  I breathe in for a moment, trying to shake off the uneasiness his words leave inside my chest. Hopping off the counter, I decided to forgo breakfast and head back into the front living room.

  “Zach’s outside shoveling, Henry is off being a mysterious fucker, and Miles is already at the hospital visiting Cassandra,” Patrick says dryly, smug as shit that he’s reading my mind as I pass by, eyes still not leaving the TV. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know who I’m looking for.

  “Psycho,” I jibe. When I reach the front door, I see Zach outside, shovel in hand.

  “Treehugger,” Patrick calls.

  I spin, hands on my hips. He doesn’t turn his head, but I know he’s watching me out of his peripherals. Classic Patrick.

  “You know those nasty breakfast sausages, which smell like straight cardboard by the way, that you and Tommy were taunting me with?” I see his neck straighten. “I replaced them with vegan sausages and you never knew the difference,” I chirp and practically skip out the door before he can retort. I snicker at the memory of them making a huge deal over how good they tasted.

  Losers.

  “Good morning,” I say to Zach, ready to throw my arms around him and give him a kiss, but he doesn’t stop shoveling.

  “Morning,” he says, barely looking up from the snow, and I feel my stomach sink. The difference between how he was with me last night and now—he’s practically a completely different person.

  “What’s got your panties in a
bunch?” I cross my arms because, despite the fact that he’s my best friend, love of my life, whatever—he’s not going to yank me around like this. It’s not like I threw myself at him and now he’s regretting it. He played an equal part in what we did last night. I’m not asking for a declaration of love or a marriage proposal, but some respect would be nice.

  He looks up at me with knitted eyebrows, his eyes dark with an emotion I don’t understand. “Look, last night was…” he trails off, swallowing his words like whatever bullshit he’s about to spew is too bitter to even leave his lips.

  “Oh, fuck off, Zach. I’m not dealing with whatever game you’re playing.” I turn around to stomp around back to check on the fox, but I halt, turning back to level him with my stare. “You started the game, but I’m changing the rules.”

  Zach has been a distant prick the entire day, and I only attend the Darlington v Salisbury game because it isn’t safe for me to stay home by myself. Per usual, Everly and I sit front and center where the guys can keep an eye on us; but to be honest, I doubt the Leary’s would have the balls to try something so public off their turf.

  Everly cheers when Patrick takes out two Salisbury players, allowing Henry to nab the puck and score with such effortlessness that even I’m in awe. Once Patrick’s out of the scuffle, he skates by us, his eyes glued to her. He presses his fingers to his lips and then presses them to his chest and she returns the gesture. I don’t know what it means, but by the smile and blush she’s got going on, I’m guessing he took those guys out in her honor or something. He holds her attention even after he skates back on the left side of the rink and I’m so happy for them. I mean, I’d rather lick the sidewalk than date Patrick Carter, but I’m really pleased that he makes my friend so happy.

  I catch Zach’s eyes, then immediately look away because I can’t get pulled back in by him, and it doesn’t have anything to do with the things we did last night. No—it has everything to do with my heart, and the fact that he’s aware that he owns it. And if he’s not going to protect it, I need to take it back and give it to someone who will.