She needed a man who would move mountains or part the sea for her, fight off demons, and fill her heart—do anything for her.
The realization physically hurt him, but Kell knew he wasn’t that man. He never would be.
“You can’t be with a virgin? Are you fucking kidding me? What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Eric’s cheeks mottled even more. “You treated her like she has some dreaded disease.”
“Belle?” Tate knocked on the bathroom door. “Baby, answer me. I can hear you crying. Talk to me. Let me hold you.”
At least Tate was preoccupied.
“You knew I wouldn’t get serious with her. Hell, you said I didn’t have to when you invited me to join this party,” Kell pointed out.
He’d told Belle he wouldn’t make a good boyfriend—and he’d been right. He had also made it clear to Eric and Tate that he couldn’t commit. They knew his past. Yeah, he could have handled his shock about her virginity better. He regretted hurting her. But how could any of them think for a second that Annabelle Wright would—or should—accept what little he could offer? She hadn’t waited all these years for a lover who could get her off. No, she’d waited for lace and monogrammed towels. She’d waited for love.
Kellan shuddered. He hadn’t been enough for his bitch of a wife. She’d walked out and utterly destroyed his world, his family, and his heart. She’d proven that he wasn’t enough of a husband for the average woman. Belle was anything but average.
But the idea of never holding her in his arms made something in his chest buckle violently. Fuck. He was dying inside and he had no idea what to do. Kell ached to walk to that bathroom door and kick it open, insist that she never lock him out again—but he didn’t have that right. He would never have that right with her.
No denying that if he had dreamed up his perfect submissive, Annabelle would fit the bill. She nurtured. She cared. Smart, funny, loyal, sassy… Hell, who was he kidding? Even if she’d slept with a hundred men, she would be far too good for him. But the reverent way she’d said it—I’m so glad I waited—had gutted him. He’d spoken without thinking. Now that would cost him not just the woman he wanted above all others, but his two best friends as well.
Tate stormed over, every muscle in his body tight with fury. “I can’t get her to come out or speak. You made this mess. You go talk to her and apologize. You clean up this shit and make it right.”
Before his pal even finished speaking, Kell began shaking his head. The minute he saw her again, he just might go down on his knees and beg her to take him back. He might offer her everything he couldn’t deliver because he was too weak to walk away. That would lead to a nuclear disaster for Belle’s heart. He wouldn’t do it to her. Better to find the fucking strength now to walk away.
How the hell was he supposed to even work with her? He couldn’t anymore. And if Eric and Tate couldn’t coax Belle back to their side, they wouldn’t want to share a business with him anyway. Goddamn it, he had to leave and lose another family. This time he wouldn’t find a replacement. He would be alone, the way he deserved to be.
“I’m sorry,” he said tightly. “But I can’t do this. You understand that if you take Belle’s virginity, you’re responsible for her? She waited twenty-six fucking years. She’s not going to be content with a damn one-night stand.”
“Good!” Tate hollered back. “I don’t want to fuck and run. I want a wife, a family, a future that doesn’t include going to a bar and picking up a girl eager for the thrill of banging three guys.”
“Good for you. I can’t be responsible for Belle. I’ll only destroy her.”
“You’re protecting yourself,” Eric growled. “Not her. You’re just too fucking afraid to put your little heart out there again.”
Tate invaded his space. “You hurt her to save yourself? I have no respect for that.”
It wasn’t logical, but Kell wanted to put the fucker on his ass. “Back off, Tate. Do it now.”
“I don’t think I want to.” Tate kept coming.
Eric moved between them. “Stop it, both of you. This isn’t helping a damn thing.”
Maybe not, but since Kell had no idea how to put a pretty pink Band-Aid on the situation and make it all better, the thought of taking out his anger on Tate seemed like a damn fine idea. Yeah, he should probably ‘fess up to the truth that Tate was a better man and Kell resented him for it, but beating the hell out of him would feel so much better. His gut rolled with rage. Unfulfilled desire warred with a terrible sense of self-loathing that had been constantly weighing him down since his divorce.
Except those moments when Belle had looked at him with her big dark eyes sparkling with trust. She’d been so gorgeous as she placed herself over his lap for her first spanking. In that moment, he hadn’t thought of anything but her, the way she smelled of jasmine, how warm her flesh had become as he disciplined her, the undeniable certainty that his spanking had made her wet. She’d responded to his touch with absolute honesty and openness, all but offering him her innocent body.
Kell hated like hell that he couldn’t accept it.
“You’re a pathetic piece of shit, Kent. You ruined everything.” Tate never held back.
Which was good because that meant Kellan didn’t have to stifle his words, either. “I didn’t see your boy over there getting on his damn knees and thanking her for remaining pure for him. He was just as shocked as I was.”
Eric’s jaw tightened, his face going stony. “Of course I was shocked.”
“Don’t stop there. Spit it out. You weren’t any happier about her whole virginity thing than I was, you shit. You’re going to let me take all the blame though, aren’t you?”
It was typical. He always got to be the bad guy. He took the hits for the whole team while Tate and Eric sat back and played the good guys everyone loved. He might have earned it, but he was damn sick of it.
“You’re so far off the mark,” Eric insisted. “I’m glad that I’ll never have to picture Belle letting some random asshole grunt and sweat on top of her. Look, none of us imagined Belle would be a virgin. It was a shocker, but that just means it’s time for us to slow it down and talk a little. We sure as hell shouldn’t blow the whole thing up. Do you have any idea what you did to her by walking out?”
“I could have handled it better; I’ll give you that. But did you stop to think that she misled us a little? Tell me what virgin is ready to just hop in the sack with three men? She either didn’t know what she was getting into—and if that’s the case, it’s a good thing we stopped—or she didn’t really intend to be with all of us.” Kell couldn’t resist a sidelong glance at Tate. Being left in the cold was his buddy’s hot button, and if Belle hadn’t planned on embracing the big guy…well, better that he found out now before he fell even harder in love.
“She kissed me. That wasn’t a good-bye, you asshole.” Tate took that moment to curl up his fist and rear it back.
Kellan just stood there. Maybe this hurt would detract from the agony twisting his guts. The impact came, and he was surprised at just how hard Tate, a man who watched way too much science fiction television, could punch. Kell’s jaw took the brunt and pain flared through his system.
He saw red. It triggered his aggression. Immediately, he went on the offensive, putting every ounce of his roiling rage into his fists. Before he really knew what he was doing, he had Tate on the ground, pounding into the man who had been his friend for nearly a decade. When Eric tried to get between them, he just decked Eric, too—a hard crack to the chin.
“Stop. Please stop.” Belle’s shaky pleading broke through the furious haze that filled his head.