Chapter 25

Chapter Twenty-Five

T he kitchen was a battlefield of spices and heat, the air thick with the weight of Connor’s inner uproar. He stirred the curry with a heavy hand, each plunge of the spoon a reminder of the words he couldn’t say, the love he couldn’t keep.

The scent of cumin and coriander burned his nostrils, but it was nothing compared to the fire raging behind his breastplate.

It was warm, almost suffocatingly so, the windows fogged up from the heat. As if they too couldn’t bear to look at the scene about to unfold.

Either way, this was their last night.

He heard Kirsty’s footsteps before she entered, a soft patter against the hardwood floor, and his chest tightened. There she was, all smiles, unaware of the storm brewing. Her hair fell in gentle waves onto her shoulders, and her eyes held that spark he treasured more than his next breath. His resolve was about to crumble. She was a vision in a simple sundress. He drank her in, tracing every curve, every freckle, committing her to memory like a condemned man his last sunrise.

‘Hey, you.’ Kirsty sauntered into the kitchen. ‘Smells amazing.’ She walked up to him with a grace that made his pulse race. The way she moved… As if she’d had ballet lessons in her youth. Which she hadn’t, never been the tutu type. The thought made him smile, even though every heartbeat thudded painfully against his ribs.

She leaned against the countertop, close enough for him to catch her subtle fragrance. A scent that had become his undoing. It made him want to pull her into his arms and forget about everything else. To stop time.

But he knew better. Tonight was about letting go. No matter how excruciating. How painful. He could barely breathe. Desire and despair tangling together in a knot he couldn’t untie.

It was impossible to look away. Was this a selfish attempt to cling onto the fleeting moments before their inevitable separation? The thought crept in, but he pushed it away as he leaned in closer, fuelled by fear and an insatiable desire. He couldn’t…

Oh God. Fuck the curry.

With a flick of his wrist, Connor turned off the stove. He dropped the spoon and spun around to her, his hands finding the sides of her face as he stared into her eyes. There was no hiding it.

Colour rushed into her features. ‘Connor, what—’

‘I’m going to miss you more than you know, Freckles.’ He bent down and kissed the soft little dent between neck and shoulder, where her sweet scent was strongest. He gave her a little nibble. ‘So fucking much.’

‘Oh, hello. I like this horny sailor you.’ Her fingers combed through the back of his hair and set his skin alight.

‘So you won’t mind if I take you like a sailor on his last night on shore?’

‘I’d be disappointed if you didn’t. You’re leaving tomorrow.’ Her fingers quivered as they met his cheek, tracing the line of his jaw with a tenderness that almost made his knees give in. ‘I like to feel how much you want and miss—’

Before she could finish her sentence, he was already on her. Hands gripping her hair, mouth crushing against hers with a force that was meant to make her dizzy.

And her body moulded to his like soft ice cream into a cone. They stumbled backwards, knocking over bowls, spices scattering across the floor like fairy dust. He lifted her onto the kitchen table, hands roaming her thighs, pushing up the hem of her dress until he felt that sweet heat of her. She gasped, her head falling back as he ran his lips down her neck, teeth grazing her collarbone.

Connor would make sure she’d never forget him.

‘Listen to me, Freckles,’ he rumbled. ‘I’m going to fuck you bare. You’re going to feel it all. You’d like that?’

She stiffened for a beat but didn’t pull away. Her pupils dilated. ‘I know you’re clear – thanks for the test – I’m clear and on the pill. So…aye, sailor.’

He bent his head and crashed his lips to hers in a desperate kiss. She wouldn’t make any more jokes from now on. It was all teeth and tongues. Messy and fierce, clashing with a voracity that was as much about relishing the moment as it was about staving off the inevitable.

‘That pussy wet for me?’ Connor turned her around, bent her over the table, shoved her dress up, and yanked her thong aside. ‘God, look at you. You’re soaked. You were hoping I’d fuck you before dinner, weren’t you?’

Kirsty nodded, breathless and wild-eyed, her body vibrating beneath his hands. She liked it when he took charge, took care of her, that much he’d learned about her. He dropped to his knees behind her arse and ran his tongue along the split of her flushed sex, delighting in the taste of her arousal. She gasped and clutched the edge of the table, her hips pushing helplessly back against him. Her reaction sent the last drop of blood straight into his dick.

He loved that she loved sex with him so much.

Connor gorged on her with a fervour that matched the raging turmoil inside him, each lick a silent plea for her to understand the depth of what he still couldn’t say.

I love you.

He stood abruptly, unable to wait any longer. ‘Lift your arse and spread your legs.’

With one hand on her hip to steady her, he took his pulsating hard length and lined himself up at her entrance. There was only this, only them, and the heart-breaking certainty that this was their last night.

‘Oh, Connor… Please. Now, now. Please .’

He didn’t want to hurt her, but by God, he needed this one last bit of her so bad it ached in his bones. So he plunged into her without preamble – hard and deep – eliciting a sharp cry from her that was part pleasure, part pain. Their connection was immediate, all-consuming, leaving no room for anything but them.

‘This what you need, Freckles?’

‘Oh, yes. Yes! More. More .’

And he gave it to her. Inside her, he was at home. Settled and safe. And she craved it just as much as he did. Each stroke shattered even the last fragments of their shells, revealing aching vulnerability. It was rough and pure. But beneath it all lay an ocean of unspoken emotions – desperation, admiration, love.

‘Scream for me. Let the whole damn town know who you belong to,’ he ground out, each word punctuated by another deep thrust. ‘I want you to feel me inside you long after I’m done.’

She could only whimper and arch her back, meeting each of his pushes with an equal ferocity. Her breaths came in shuddering gasps. ‘Connor, I—’

‘Just feel it, baby,’ he groaned as he drove into her. Nerves firing under his skin, in his heart, everywhere. He didn’t want this moment to end. This connection. Them. He rocked into her wet sex with more force. ‘Just fucking feel it!’

And she let out a scream. A raucous cry that reverberated off the walls.

‘That’s it.’ He grazed her neck with his teeth. ‘You love this, don’t you? You love my bare cock inside you.’

‘Yes! Yes!’ Kirsty gripped the edge and pushed back against him. ‘So good. So fucking good. Connor…’

God, the way she whined his name.

He speared into her so hard that the kitchen table rattled against the wall. The pace he set was frenetic, driven by their dwindling time together. By his pain. No one else had ever made him feel this way, this all-devouring need. But no one else had ever owned his heart and soul.

No one ever would.

Because he loved only her.

‘Dammit,’ he groaned as the hot pressure built at the back of his spine, threatening to blow up. ‘Feel that? I’m already about to come.’

‘Me…too. God. Connor. Connor !’ Her walls clenched around him, and her moans became yelps, helpless pleas for him not to stop. The tension wound tighter and tighter within him, heat building in his balls. He leaned in and nipped her earlobe. ‘Come with me. Don’t hold back. I won’t come until I see those pretty eyes roll back.’ He grabbed her jaw and turned her chin towards him.

Her eyes fluttered open, all glazed over. ‘Ohhh, God. I-I’m already… N-now, Connor! OH!’

One last hard thrust and he could see the white in her eyes as the force of her orgasm tore a long, slow sob from her lips.

She always came so good.

Her body shook beneath him, her silky walls clamping around him, and that was all he could take. And then he was the one whining her name. His orgasm was blinding lightning, a jerking explosion inside her, going as deep as he could. The wave crested and crashed over them both, taking away any semblance of control.

He collapsed against her back. They were a mess of sweat and love and splintered dreams. Connor panted, but he couldn’t bring himself to let go. He crouched over her like a sheltering wing, folding himself along the bend of her body for safekeeping.

For keeping.

His heart thundered in his chest, the blood rushing in his ears drowned out by the knowledge that this was it.

He could only hope she understood what he’d tried to tell her with his body.

That she owned his soul.

That she was everything to him. Everything.

But sometimes loving someone meant giving everything up.

He embraced her tighter from behind, kissing her temple, her cheek, as she was descending from her high. His palms traced over her chest, catching and holding her galloping heart. He buried his head in her neck.

She didn’t need to see his tears.

Her breathing slowed down, and he slid out of her slowly, both of them wincing at the loss of contact. ‘Stay, baby,’ he murmured. ‘Don’t move. I’ll be right back.’

When he returned with a washcloth, she still stood there, dress over her hips, legs spread. His heart exploded. He poured hot water on the fabric in his hand to make it nice and warm for her.

‘You’re so beautiful,’ he whispered and began to clean her with tender dabs and soft strokes. ‘And Christ, Kirsty. It’s fucking hot to see this.’ His hands shook as he tried to etch the image into his mind for all those lonely nights he’d spend without her.

For the rest of his life.

She gazed back at him over her shoulder with a half-smile. ‘I enjoy the naughty sailor side of you. Can’t wait until he comes home to shore in three weeks. I’ll be here, waiting for him.’ She looked so content and blissful and glowingly proud. Proud that she’d made him happy.

Broke his fucking heart into a million pieces.

He pulled her up, turned her around, and held her tightly in his arms, committing her shape to his memory. His nose brushed against her forehead, inhaling the scent of her hairline.

I can’t do this. It’s killing me.

Their intimacy still thrummed through the air, but his insides congealed with doubt. Was sending her away an act of love, ensuring that she would live her best life, or was it a move to shield himself? He knew what he had to say, but the words stuck in his throat like shards of glass. As he prepared to cut their ties, he wondered if he was making the biggest mistake of his life. Again.

But he had to. He’d been there before.

The first time, he’d told her she wouldn’t make it in London. Hadn’t supported her.

He couldn’t be that guy again.

Not in a million years.

Connor dragged gentle, messy kisses over her flushed neck. ‘Kirsty, you can’t be here in three weeks when I come back.’ His voice was as rough as sandpaper. ‘You have to return to London. You have to go after your dreams, live the life you deserve.’

Her eyes flew open, confusion and hurt swirling in their baby-blue depths. ‘What? Why? What are you talking about, Connor? I—’

‘You deserve much more than this,’ he interrupted with a hitch in his voice. ‘More than me. I can’t be the one to hold you back. To hold you here. You have dreams, Freckles. Big dreams that I can’t be a part of.’

The hurt in her eyes cracked him rib-deep.

‘You’re not holding me back, Connor.’ She swung her head in a no. ‘You’re the one who believes in me even when I don’t believe in myself.’

‘Maybe. But I won’t let you stay. Won’t stand in your way. Not this time, not again. I’ll always support your dreams. I know how important they are because I don’t have any of my own and that pains me every day. So you have to go.’

Kirsty got up, eyes blazing with icy fury. ‘You just fucked me like the world was ending. And now you’re telling me to leave? Are you bloody serious? I thought you understood that my dreams kind of include you.’

‘No. You got this amazing job offer—’

Her jaw drifted open. ‘Wait. How do you even—’

‘—and you have to take it. This is your chance to shine. You know it as well as I do. This is what you’ve been waiting for over a decade.’

Her gaze turned glassy with held-back tears. Tears of fury, of a love that was being ripped away from her. He could tell. Nobody knew her as well as he did.

That’s why it broke him so bad.

‘Why are you pushing me away?’ she bit out, nails digging into her palms.

He closed his eyes. The pain in his chest was unbearable, like his heart was collapsing into itself. ‘Because if you stay with me, you’ll be settling for less than you deserve, for less than you want. And sooner or later, you will resent me for being trapped here.’

‘Oh, don’t you fucking dare try to make this decision for me, Bannerman,’ she seethed. ‘I am a grown woman. I know what I want. And what I want is you.’

He shook his head. ‘Maybe you like to be desired, like to feel eighteen again.’

Kirsty let out a harsh laugh, the sound as frail as shattered porcelain. ‘You don’t get to decide what I like, Connor. You don’t get to play the martyr and push me away because you think it’s what’s best for me.’

She stood up, picked up her handbag and her cardigan off the kitchen floor. ‘And I won’t let you devalue our…love.’

She said it.

When she reached the door, she paused. Her hand on the knob, shoulders shaking. ‘I thought adult-you was different. But I guess I was wrong. Stupid. Well, fuck you, Connor. Fuck you and your patronising shite.’ Her eyes met his one last time. ‘You don’t trust in the fact that we’re stronger together than we ever could be apart. You’re a coward.’

And with that, she was gone, slamming the door behind her with a finality that shook the walls.

Connor slid to the ground, his heart in pieces, soul bleeding out onto the floor.

He’d thought he was doing the right thing, that he was protecting her from making a mistake.

Didn’t make the pain any less real, any less devastating.

He’d let her go, set her free. But it was like he’d ripped out a part of himself. And now he had to learn to live with the consequences, to carry the weight of his love alone.

He’d done the right thing. Kirsty deserved the world, and he couldn’t give it to her. She deserved to chase her dreams, to live the life she’d always wanted, and he refused to be the one that held her back. The one she would come to hate, inevitably. Even if it meant sacrificing his own happiness, his own heart. He would have to live with the pain, would watch her soar from afar.

But he would never regret loving her. She was his once-in-a-lifetime. And he would love her until his dying breath.