Read Online Blackout by Rosalie Stanton - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Rosalie Stanton
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“Lennon…”
“I insist.”
“Take the tape, at least.”
A bitter laugh rumbled through his throat. “The tape won’t do shit for me now that I’ve had the real thing.”
While she knew he meant what he said, he didn’t object when she pressed the video against his chest.
Kenzie held his gaze before her attention dropped to his lips, a twinge of yearning and regret echoing through her. It would be easy, she knew, to cast aside her doubt and hesitation and fall into a haze of sex and blind, foolish optimism. Very easy, especially for how genuinely good she believed him to be, in spite of the pain of experience. It would be different with him. It wouldn’t be like anything she’d had before.
Different, however, wasn’t good enough. She needed more. She needed something she couldn’t name.
The longer they stayed here the more twisted her thoughts became, especially when Lennon looked at her the way he looked at her now. He wanted to kiss her.
“Kenzie…”
The pang in her chest intensified. Another second and she’d cave…but that second never came. The shadow of lips ghosted over hers before the elevator jolted and the lights flickered on again, blaring out the emergency bulbs. Kenzie nearly lost her balance in surprise, but Lennon grabbed her arm and held firm. She didn’t realize what had happened until the doors to their makeshift prison dinged and slid open, revealing the stark hallway through which she’d treaded a lifetime ago.
“Shit,” Lennon whispered.
Kenzie breathed steadily, her stomach knotting.
Reality had come crashing back.
Seven
A week had passed since Kenzie had seen Lennon’s face. Felt his hands on her body. Heard his laugh rumble across her skin. A week since a drunken teenager had taken a joyride in Daddy’s Porsche and crashed into the circuit box across from Lennon’s building, knocking out the power on the whole block. A week since she had stumbled into the cool St. Louis night, autumn air kissing her cheeks, something in her chest breaking.
She couldn’t remember if she’d said anything to Lennon before bolting for freedom. The second the elevator doors slid open, the world had come crashing down on her. To be fair, she’d known what would happen. Her time with Lennon was borrowed, and pretending otherwise was nothing more than wishful thinking.
And a week later, she thought. Wishfully.
Her decision regarding the Buckingham file had been an easy one. There was no way she could walk away from what had transpired with a clear conscience if it involved selling Lennon up the river. No matter if she had his blessing, no matter if this was his gift to her, no matter what it meant to her brother or her future—Lennon didn’t deserve whatever the senior partners would throw at him. Kenzie knew Howard Martin, Lennon’s direct superior, would put him through the wringer. Therefore she hadn’t hesitated. From Lennon’s building, she’d driven to the Doran and Gage building and left the file with Benny, the man who had second shift at the front desk.
A week had passed, and she hadn’t heard a damn thing. Not from Lennon, not from Kayla Bryant—who wouldn’t take her calls, not even for an explanation why she’d fallen through on the bargain. Kenzie couldn’t stand being out of the loop, but this was what she’d wanted. This was for what she’d asked. What she told Lennon to give her.
Nothing. Nothing at all.
For whatever reason, reminding herself she’d gotten what she wished for did little to ease her aching heart. And her heart didn’t have a good reason to ache. Her time with Lennon had been amazing, no doubt, but Kenzie refused to fool herself.
“No happy ending,” she murmured. Kenzie sat in her parked Oldsmobile outside the last address she had for her prince of an ex, Hunter. The asshole responsible for this whole mess. The dickhead who had shaken her sense of self in ways she’d always sworn no man would. The fuckwit who had cheated on
“I insist.”
“Take the tape, at least.”
A bitter laugh rumbled through his throat. “The tape won’t do shit for me now that I’ve had the real thing.”
While she knew he meant what he said, he didn’t object when she pressed the video against his chest.
Kenzie held his gaze before her attention dropped to his lips, a twinge of yearning and regret echoing through her. It would be easy, she knew, to cast aside her doubt and hesitation and fall into a haze of sex and blind, foolish optimism. Very easy, especially for how genuinely good she believed him to be, in spite of the pain of experience. It would be different with him. It wouldn’t be like anything she’d had before.
Different, however, wasn’t good enough. She needed more. She needed something she couldn’t name.
The longer they stayed here the more twisted her thoughts became, especially when Lennon looked at her the way he looked at her now. He wanted to kiss her.
“Kenzie…”
The pang in her chest intensified. Another second and she’d cave…but that second never came. The shadow of lips ghosted over hers before the elevator jolted and the lights flickered on again, blaring out the emergency bulbs. Kenzie nearly lost her balance in surprise, but Lennon grabbed her arm and held firm. She didn’t realize what had happened until the doors to their makeshift prison dinged and slid open, revealing the stark hallway through which she’d treaded a lifetime ago.
“Shit,” Lennon whispered.
Kenzie breathed steadily, her stomach knotting.
Reality had come crashing back.
Seven
A week had passed since Kenzie had seen Lennon’s face. Felt his hands on her body. Heard his laugh rumble across her skin. A week since a drunken teenager had taken a joyride in Daddy’s Porsche and crashed into the circuit box across from Lennon’s building, knocking out the power on the whole block. A week since she had stumbled into the cool St. Louis night, autumn air kissing her cheeks, something in her chest breaking.
She couldn’t remember if she’d said anything to Lennon before bolting for freedom. The second the elevator doors slid open, the world had come crashing down on her. To be fair, she’d known what would happen. Her time with Lennon was borrowed, and pretending otherwise was nothing more than wishful thinking.
And a week later, she thought. Wishfully.
Her decision regarding the Buckingham file had been an easy one. There was no way she could walk away from what had transpired with a clear conscience if it involved selling Lennon up the river. No matter if she had his blessing, no matter if this was his gift to her, no matter what it meant to her brother or her future—Lennon didn’t deserve whatever the senior partners would throw at him. Kenzie knew Howard Martin, Lennon’s direct superior, would put him through the wringer. Therefore she hadn’t hesitated. From Lennon’s building, she’d driven to the Doran and Gage building and left the file with Benny, the man who had second shift at the front desk.
A week had passed, and she hadn’t heard a damn thing. Not from Lennon, not from Kayla Bryant—who wouldn’t take her calls, not even for an explanation why she’d fallen through on the bargain. Kenzie couldn’t stand being out of the loop, but this was what she’d wanted. This was for what she’d asked. What she told Lennon to give her.
Nothing. Nothing at all.
For whatever reason, reminding herself she’d gotten what she wished for did little to ease her aching heart. And her heart didn’t have a good reason to ache. Her time with Lennon had been amazing, no doubt, but Kenzie refused to fool herself.
“No happy ending,” she murmured. Kenzie sat in her parked Oldsmobile outside the last address she had for her prince of an ex, Hunter. The asshole responsible for this whole mess. The dickhead who had shaken her sense of self in ways she’d always sworn no man would. The fuckwit who had cheated on
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