“I know this is my home, but Saint Peter’s is my home too. If I wish to return early I should be permitted to do so.”
Samantha couldn’t listen to another word. She blinked back tears and swallowed against the hard lump forming in her throat.
Quickly, she went to the opposite door and made the bed and began tossing her clothes onto the covers. She needed to leave. There was no way she could be held responsible for ruining Colin’s last stay with his family before he became a priest.
She should’ve never come here. It was the idea of returning to her parents’ empty home that had her sniffling and wiping back tears. What was wrong with her?
Going to the closet she saw someone moved her suitcase to the top shelf. She stood on her toes and tried to latch onto the handle with her fingertips. When she had a mediocre grip she yanked and the case came tumbling down with a thud.
What she wasn’t prepared for was the heavy trophy that followed and slammed into her shoulder then landed on the floor with a bang.
The sound of movement had her looking up from where a mark was already forming on her skin.
“Sammy, are you okay?”
Shit. She let out a breath and the last of her composure slipped. With slumped shoulders she slowly turned and faced Colin. The moment he saw her face she knew there was no hiding the fact that she was crying. Damn fair Irish skin.
He still held the phone to his ear, but his eyes were held wide on her face. “I’ll have to call you back,” he said, shutting the phone and tossing it on the bed.
“You’re bleeding.”
“What?” she looked at her shoulder and sure enough there was blood. “It’s just a scratch. A trophy fell on me.”
He frowned examining her arm. “How did that happen?”
She wiped her eyes, hoping she’d seen the last of her tears. “I was trying to reach my suitcase.”
He looked at the bag on the floor and to her clothing piled on the bed. “Are you leaving?”
Better me than you. “I have to go. Something’s come up.”
“Is everything okay? Your family?”
“They’re fine. I just…I need to be getting home.”
He gave a silent "oh" and looked down at the carpet.
He was again in casual clothes. He looked as if he had run very hard that afternoon. Lengthening shadows from the fading sun brought her attention to his sneakers. The man looked perfect in just about anything, even ratty old Nikes.
“I suppose Braydon will be going too, then.”
“What? No. Braydon can stay. I can even take a train back. I just need a ride to the station.”
“Does he know you’re planning to leave?”
Tell me to stay, she thought yearningly and grew even more frustrated. “What?”
“Braydon. Does he know you’re leaving?”
“Oh. No, I just decided.”
He thought for a moment, that introspective look in his eye again. Then he looked back to the bathroom and down at his phone on the bed and back to her. Shit. He suspected she had been eavesdropping.
“Sammy—”
“Don’t. It’s fine. This is your home. I don’t want to cause anyone to be uncomfortable in their own home.”
“It isn’t like that—”
“It’s not a big deal. My parents will be glad to have the time with me anyway.”
“I thought Braydon said they were away.”
Damn it! “They cut their trip short.” Nice. Lie to the priest.
It didn’t matter anyway. He looked at her and she knew he didn’t believe her. He pinched the bridge of his nose as if he were getting a headache. She took the opportunity to retrieve her bag from the floor and carry it to the bed, careful not to get too close to him.
Ignoring Colin, she began unzipping the case and refolding her items before packing them away. When he grasped her arm she froze.
“Sammy, don’t. Don’t go because of me. Please. You have as much a right to be here as any of us. You’re Braydon’s guest.”
She shook her head sadly. “He wouldn’t know the difference if I stayed or left. You all are reading way too far into our relationship.”
A beat of silence. “Look at me.”
She hesitantly did as he asked and turned to face him, wrinkled t-shirt still in hand. His gaze searched her face.
All she knew in that moment was that the touch of his skin to hers, no matter how casual a grip he held on her arm, it somehow managed to send more of a shock to her core than anything else ever had. Why? Why this man?
“Do you love him?” he finally asked.
She pressed her lips together in irritation. “I told you I don’t. We’re friends.”
“But I saw you kissing him.”
“You saw him kissing me,” she corrected. “And people kiss all the time. It doesn’t mean they’re in love.”
He looked as though he wanted to say a hundred things in that moment, but all he said was, “I can’t, Sammy.”
“Can’t what?”
“This…the way you make me feel. He’s my brother and I’ll be a priest in less than two months.”
She wanted to kick him. How dare he assume that she was giving him an invitation to turn down? She knew what he was! She wasn’t some Mary Magdalene trollop hoping to throw him off his path to God. She resented the fact that he thought she could be so uncaring about his commitment.
“I never asked you to be anything more than his brother, Colin.”
He dropped her arm and took a step back. His Adam’s apple moved under the shadow of his jaw as he gave a tight smile, but his eyes remained unmoved.
“My mistake,” he said gruffly. “Anyway, please stay. I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable, but there’s no need to go. I’m leaving in the morning.”
She imagined the entire family sitting around questioning each other why Colin left when he was supposed to be there for the summer. They’d eventually figure something out. He didn’t lie, she assumed, and feared he would confess it had something to do with her. Being held accountable for his leaving would be utterly humiliating.
She was angry that he’d put her in that position. Getting home to some Ben and Jerry’s sounded all together great. “Don’t bother,” she snapped and turned to continue packing.
She gasped when he reached for her again, this time with more force, and spun her around. His soft lips landed on hers and she squeaked in surprise. He held her just below her shoulders and she wasn’t sure what to do. Surely he’d come to his senses in a minute.
She stood there, eyes open, and waited. His mouth never opened, only pressed to hers dryly, lips to lips.
When he pulled away he was visibly shaking. He shook his head and attempted the say something, but no words came out. He turned, but then faced her again as if he wasn’t sure what to do. The palm of his hand gripped the back of his neck in a show of irritation. She hadn’t a clue what to say. He wasn’t looking at her and she knew he was having some sort of internal argument with himself.
“I can do better than that.”
When he reached for her the second time she was again shocked.
Her hands went to his chest and he wrapped his arms around her torso arching her back. He was practically holding all of her weight, pulling them pelvis to pelvis and lifting her to her toes.
His mouth coasted over hers and at the first touch of his tongue she felt some sort of pent up release deep within her belly and her panties suddenly flooded with desire. Never in her life had she had that sort of reaction to another person.
“Kiss me, Sammy. Show me how to kiss a woman.”
Her mouth slowly opened and he found his way inside. If he was any sort of novice there was no telling from his kiss. Slowly, his tongue tickled hers and her hands glided up his chest, across his warm and stubbly neck and into his soft dark hair. He pulled her close so that her belly pressed to his and it was perhaps the most sexual position she had ever been in with a man.
He m
oaned into her mouth and slanted his lips over hers, taking control of the kiss. A storm of fluttering tickles unleashed in her lower abdomen. She met him with every lick, nibble, and caress.
“God, you taste good.”
The mention of God had her cowering in shame. She gave him one final stroke with her tongue then carefully extricated herself from his embrace. On shaky legs she moved across the room so that the bed separated them. She couldn’t help but admire the waist of his shorts and notice his erection pressing against the back of his zipper.
She was a horrible, horrible person.
“Sammy—”
The wanting that burned inside of her became almost painful. Impossible to satisfy. “Don’t, Colin. It means nothing. I’m leaving tomorrow so you might as well stay.”
“Please don’t go. I just…I never needed to kiss a woman like I needed to kiss you then.”
“Well, that moment's over now and I’m still here with Braydon and you’re still going to be a priest. I need to leave. It’s wrong for me to stay here and lead your brother on. And I couldn’t live with myself if you left your family because of me or if I…” He obviously figured out she’d been listening to his conversation. “…If I caused you any more distraction.”
“Talk to Braydon. He doesn’t have to know about this, but tell him how you feel. I know him. He’ll want you to stay. I want you to stay. I know what I am and I know this can be nothing more than what we just shared. It won’t happen again and I’ll leave you alone. Please. My mother and sister and the rest of my family are enjoying your company. Stay. Don’t go home to an empty house. You’re welcome here. If you stay, I’ll stay.”
“And if I go?”
“I’ll leave as well.”
She shut her eyes and sighed. “Fine.”
“Good.”
He took her suitcase and lifted the clothes out of it. He carried it to the closet and seemed to think twice about putting it back on the shelf. Rather, he stowed it on the floor next to Braydon’s shoes, picked up the trophy from the floor, and placed it on his brother’s dresser.
Without looking at her he said, “Dinner’s probably ready.”
He left the room the way he came, this time securely shutting the bathroom door behind him.
The moment she was alone she dropped to the bed and let the severity of what happened consume her. Wrapping her arms protectively around herself, she began to tremble, but she refused to let herself cry over her own stupidity. Her head hurt, where she scraped her shoulder burned, and her eyes stung with the tears trying to break free, but she would not cry.
8
Dinner was delicious, but awkward. Braydon kissed her cheek when she returned to the kitchen then proceeded to ignore her as he regaled the others with stories of the day. Sam kept her nose down and avoided eye contact with all of them.
After Colin left she allowed herself only a few moments of self-pity then told herself to grow up and get over it. He was going to be a priest and she couldn’t mess with that. Even if she could sway him otherwise he’d only end up resenting her in the end. And for what? A few measly kisses. Sam had no business interfering with his plans.
As much as she wanted to leave she wanted to stay. Katherine and Anthony and the kids had come to dinner and after the women were finished tidying up the kitchen, Sam sat on the floor of the den with Frankie and Skylar playing Trouble.
Braydon and his brothers sat out front drinking and telling old stories they each heard a hundred times, but still found as amusing as the first telling. Colin left after dinner. Sam was curious about where he was going, but told herself it was none of her business and she’d be better to stop thinking of him so much.
She needed to talk to Braydon, but could tell by the course the evening was taking that tonight was not the night for a serious conversation. Around nine o’clock Katherine gathered up the kids and said their goodbyes. Italian Mary was already asleep on the recliner, but when Katherine considered out loud about letting her stay rather than waking her, Frank jumped from his seat on the couch and offered to carry her out.
Anthony ended up waking his mother and shuffling a sleepy and much more docile Italian Mary out to the car. Once the kids were gone Maureen and Frank made their excuses and headed up to bed.
Sam stood by the door for a few minutes debating whether or not to tell Braydon she was going to bed. Their drunken merriment echoed off the trees as their words slipped clumsily out of their mouths and slurred together.
They were all piss drunk.
Sam wondered what it was like to be so uninhibited. She doubted she could ever let go that much. Feeling like an interloper, she decided to let the McCullough siblings have their fun and simply head off to bed.
Her mind was restless. The house was quiet aside from the occasional rowdy peal of laughter that reached her window. She’d been lying still, staring at the ceiling for at least an hour when a soft sound jarred her from her thoughts. Sitting up to investigate the sound she wandered to the window. The boys were all exactly where she had left them.
Suddenly there was a clatter and a moan coming from the next room. Without thinking, Samantha followed the sound and entered Colin’s room through the adjoining door. The room was dark, but from the moonlight spilling in she could tell it was utilitarian and precisely the way Colin preferred it.
There was a thud and she quickly searched for a light. Unable to find a switch on the wall she stepped in and tried to see what the sound was.
“Colin?”
The only reply she got was raspy laughter. Following the sound, she found Colin lying on the floor beside his bed in nothing but briefs in a fit of laughter. “Are you drunk?”
“Guilty,” he admitted with a ridiculous smirk.
“What is it with you Irish? I always thought the drinking thing was a stereotype.”
“Oh, it tis, my love. This is purely a McCullough thing.”
“How much did you drink?”
He shut one eye and pressed his finger and thumb together. She looked down at him in exasperation.
“A smidge doesn’t do this.”
“Aye, but a smidge a dozen times can be a powerful thing. It ganged up on me and now I’ve gone and fallen on me arse! But it isn’t all bad, you see, because now I have a beautiful lassie looking over me.” He laughed, “And now I’m spoutin’ poetry. Do you like poetry, Sammy?”
She rolled her eyes. “Here, let me help you up.”
She held out her hand, but rather than reach for it, he said, “Oh Sammy dear, I’m down here, lying on me back. What keeps me here is the beer, a beautiful woman, and the fact that I’m a wreck.”
“Lovely.”
But he wasn’t finished. “When we drink, we get drunk. When we get drunk, we fall asleep. When we sleep, there’s no sin. When we commit no sin, we go to heaven. So, let's all get drunk, and go to heaven. But in heaven there is no beer so let’s drink it up while we’re here!”
She frowned. “What is that?”
“An old Irish toast.”
Rolling to his side, Colin tugged his jeans over and rifled through the pockets. He pulled out a flask and frowned when he put it to his mouth and nothing came out.
“You don’t need any more of that,” she said taking the flask out of his hands and yanking him off the ground.
He was unsteady and she was glad the bed was there to catch her before he knocked her on her ass. However, when he practically fell on top of her she wasn’t sure it was such a good thing. The heat of his body singed through her clothing and she quickly scrambled out from under him.
She sat up and tried to steady him beside her.
“How’s your shoulder, Sammy dear?”
He moved her hair away from her shoulder and eyed her scratch from earlier. It really was just a scratch. His thumb gently traced the curve of her shoulder as he watched the movement, transfixed.
He whispered, “Here’s to temperance supper, with water in glasses tall, and coffee and tea to end
with—beautiful Sammy, and me not there at all.”
He took a deep breath through his nose. “Why do you smell so good, Samantha? Better than any flower or meadow, nothing like any other woman I’ve ever been in the presence of.”
She looked down unsure what to do. She should stand, but she wanted to stay. His hand slowly lifted to her chin and turned her to face him. His eyes looked as though he had been to hell and back.
“You’re a temptation I cannot seem to outrun, Samantha. And now I’m going to kiss you again. Tell me I can kiss you one more time.”
She was suddenly very aware of her body. The weight of her panties, the fact that she’d come into his room in nothing but a tank top, the pull of her breasts against the ribbed fabric of her shirt as her nipples chafed with each pull of her lungs, the spot where his naked thigh touched hers, and the way he looked into her eyes and saw a part of her everyone else seemed to somehow overlook, it was all too much.
“Colin—”
“Please.”
She knew it was wrong, but what was she supposed to do? She wanted him to do it! Slowly she nodded.
He leaned into her and captured her mouth as if he had been waiting to do that since the moment they last broke apart. His hands found her hips and coasted across her back as his chest pressed into hers and he lowered her to the bed. Her mind cried danger, but her hormones didn’t seem to care.
He kissed her like a man starved for the affection. His mouth tasted of sweet liquor and that earthy flavor she associated with him and him alone. It was nothing like the first kiss or even the second for that matter. He got better by miles with each intimate second.
Her legs reflexively curled closer to her chest as she pressed her thighs together. He licked at her mouth, whispering words of pleasure with each couple of breaths. The heat of his palm coasted back to her hip and stopped just over the cotton band of her panties. His fingers slid under the fabric and touched her hip there.
“So soft you are, Samantha. I had never imagined you would be this soft.”
The bulge of his erection pressed into her side. Never in her life had she experienced something so erotic. She feared she would burst if he stopped. It was wrong.
Take Me to Bed: A Collection of Naughty Bedtime Stories Page 24