Irish Sex Fairy: Ellora's Cave

by Kelly Jamieson

  And to a certain extent, telling Maeve and hearing her sympathetic comments did make her feel better.

  They’d just finished their dinner when Shane arrived, buzzing at the back door, now locked.

  Shane walked into Maeve’s apartment, still in his uniform. He hadn’t even gone home to eat yet. He sought out Keara and found her seated on the couch, cross-legged, a cushion clutched on her lap.

  “Should you be out of bed?” he asked with a frown.

  “I’m fine,” she replied, with a roll of her eyes. “Sore, but fine. I want to keep moving around so I don’t stiffen up too much. What are you doing here?”

  “Just checking to see how you’re doing.”

  “You don’t need to do that.”

  He ignored her. “Will you be up to coming in to the station to make your report tomorrow?”

  “I think so. I just have no way to get there.”

  “You can use my car,” Maeve offered.

  “I’ll pick you up,” Shane said at the same time.

  “Do you offer that service to every crash victim?” she asked, frowning.

  “No. Not everyone. It’s no trouble. I’ll come around lunchtime and we’ll get it done.”

  She gave him a look—chin tilted down, up through her eyelashes—and his chest tightened. She looked so damn vulnerable and lost. What was it about her?

  “Fine,” she finally said with a sigh.

  “I called your insurance company,” he said, taking a seat on the other end of the couch from her. “An adjuster will have a look at the car to see if it can be repaired. But first thing tomorrow Joe and I will go have a look at it also. See if there’s any evidence of another car hitting you.”

  “There won’t be.” She looked down at the cushion on her lap then back up to him. “I think I imagined that.”

  He stared at her. “You think you imagined it. Why do you say that?”

  Her lips pressed together. “I just do. I think I probably overreacted to the guy tailing me close. So I’m sure the accident was all my fault.”

  He said nothing. It was possible. And yet, she’d seemed so certain earlier. “Is that what you’re going to say in your statement?”

  “I…I don’t know. I just want to tell the truth.”

  He nodded. “Well, you figure it out, honey, and we’ll go from there. I’m willing to investigate if you think someone deliberately tried to force you off the road.”

  “There’s probably no point in it.” She sighed. “I don’t want to put you to a lot of work for nothing.”

  He nodded, not sure how to respond to her. Keara wasn’t the type of person to try to blame someone else for something that was her fault. He was pretty sure of that. Some drivers would make up a story like that to take the blame off themselves, maybe thinking they’d be charged with something. But he didn’t believe she would.

  So what had really happened up on San Marcos Pass? He found himself hoping unreasonably that he’d find something on her car the next day, even though he knew it unlikely, and even though he knew if he did, he had a helluva bigger problem on his hands. But…Keara’s new admission that she might have overreacted and the sadness on her face as she said it tugged at something inside him. He wanted to pull her onto his lap and wrap his arms around her.

  “Everyone makes mistakes,” he finally said, not sure if she was going to take that as reassuring or an indictment. She just nodded, her morose lethargy heart-tugging.

  “You look tired,” he said, standing. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Okay.”

  As Maeve walked him to the door, he asked her in a low voice, “Is she okay?”

  Maeve nodded, her mouth tightened into a thin scarlet line, eyes narrowed. “Shane. I’m worried about her.”

  He stopped, glanced over Maeve’s shoulder at Keara, staring into space.

  “You think she’s hurt? Did they miss something at the hospital?”

  “No.” Maeve shook her head. “She’s just going through a difficult time right now. She just needs a friend, I think.”

  He met her eyes. What was she saying? “We…I…”

  “You two were friends. A long time ago.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Just be a friend to her again, then,” Maeve said gently.

  He nodded and left, about a hundred questions bouncing around in his brain. What the hell was going on? And why should he even care?

  But he did.

  * * * * *

  As he’d said he would, Shane picked her up and drove her, again in the police cruiser, to the station to fill out the report. She repeated everything that had happened, including the fact that she’d thought the vehicle forced her to the side,

  She could tell from the look on the officer’s face who took her report that people probably told him stories about mysterious vanishing vehicles forcing them off the road, into telephone poles, and over curbs all the time. They thought she was just making it up so she wouldn’t have to take the blame for the accident. She could tell.

  It annoyed her because she wouldn’t make something up. Sure, she’d probably overreacted to the vehicle being there, but she wasn’t inventing the whole thing. There had been someone following her too close, for whatever reason, and even if it wasn’t totally his fault she’d driven over the side of the mountain, he had been a jerk. She could still be angry about that.

  Shane kept his expression carefully neutral as she made the report, unlike the other officer who didn’t much hide his disbelief, and she wondered what Shane was really thinking. About her. She didn’t want him to think she was avoiding blame.

  Shane told her it wasn’t likely her car would be able to be repaired. Great. She’d have to see what the insurance company offered her, but now she was stuck in Kilkenny with no car until then, and until she could buy a new one. Just effing great.

  When they stepped outside the small police office into bright sunshine and cool mountain air, she glanced at him.

  “What?” he asked, looking at her.

  She hesitated then said, “I want to have sex.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Shane stopped walking. Glanced at his watch. “We’ll have to be fast. I’ve only twenty minutes left in my lunch break.”

  She gave a strangled laugh. “I didn’t mean right this minute.”

  “I’ll call Jim,” he said, taking her hand and leading her down the sidewalk at a near-run. “He’ll cover for me for an hour.”

  “Shane!”

  He slanted a glance at her. “I guess we’ll go to my place.”

  “Shane!”

  He felt like he was dragging her along and he paused, reminded of her recent injuries. “You feel up to this?” He had to ask. But if she said no…

  “Well…I am still pretty sore…”

  “We’ll be careful.”

  They arrived at his car and he handed her in, then leaped into the driver’s seat. He debated putting lights and siren on. Nah, he’d get in trouble if anyone found out he was racing home for sex. He hardened painfully.

  “I don’t even know where you live,” Keara said.

  “Over on Shillelagh Road.”

  “A house?”

  “Yup.” He drove with determined, focused speed the short distance to his house, glancing sideways at Keara. Her fingers twisted around each other in her lap, but she hadn’t told him to take her home. Yet.

  He pulled into the driveway in front of the double-car garage.

  “Nice place.”

  He leaped out of the car and dashed around to help Keara.

  “Yeah. Thanks. My dad built it a few years back.”

  Holding one of her hands in his left, he unlocked the front door with his right hand, then stepped into the foyer and punched the code into the alarm system while kicking the door shut behind him.

  Keara tugged her hand back but he didn’t release it. “Um…”

  He turned and looked down at her. Her teeth sank into her lush lower lip and her cheek
s pinkened. “What?”

  He was acting like a caveman. A horny, crazed animal. Shit. He sucked in oxygen. “I’m sorry.”

  She blinked at him. He tugged her closer and put his hands on her waist. “Believe it or not, I do believe in foreplay,” he said softly, smiling.

  She gave a choked little laugh. “That’s good. I know we don’t have much time, but…”

  He pulled her closer, against his body, inhaled that sweet jasmine honeysuckle scent of her. He had a hard-on like a club. “We have all the time in the world,” he murmured.

  “Um…your job? Shane…”

  He nuzzled the side of her neck, beneath her ear, where the skin was soft and sweetly fragrant. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “Oookay.” The word was a breath and he pressed a kiss to her throat, to the pulse fluttering there. His own heart was about to pound out of his chest and his cock throbbed insistently behind the zipper of his uniform trousers. He slid his hands down to her hips and then around behind her to the curves of her ass.

  Her breath hissed out, her head fell back and he lifted his own head to gaze at her. Her lips parted and his mouth opened with the need to taste her. He lowered his head and kissed her, at first soft, exploring, coaxing. Then with a groan, he gathered her in his arms and brought her up tight against him, loving the feel of her in his arms, and deepened the kiss, mouth opening over hers, his tongue licking over her bottom lip and into her mouth. She tasted like sweet, delicious female and he realized he recognized the taste of her and the feel of her as if the last time he’d kissed her had been yesterday.

  The shock of that jolted him like a live current, made his pulse leap, made his cock twitch. He pressed it into Keara’s softness, felt her arms slide around his neck, her fingers slipping into his hair. If they could have wrapped themselves around each other, they would have, by the feel of her straining against him. Her breasts—not big but damn cute from what he remembered—pressed against his torso.

  Christ! He hauled her up by her ass, and her legs wrapped around his waist, their mouths devouring each other. He tried to carry her to the stairs leading to the bedrooms upstairs, stumbling a bit with her across the shiny white tile floor of his foyer.

  “No,” he gasped as his raging lust threatened his self-control. The carpeted stairs looked good to him, and he considered stopping there and taking her.

  “What d’you mean, no?” She arched against him to rub those pretty tits over his chest.

  “I mean, I want to do you right here, but I promised you foreplay.”

  “Screw the foreplay,” she said. “I want it now. Right here. Oh God, Shane.”

  She rocked against him, her soft center rubbing seekingly against him.

  Okay, the stairs it was. He lowered her to the gray carpet, two stairs above him, and started unfastening his pants while she reached up under the full skirt she wore and wriggled out of her panties.

  “This is crazy,” she breathed, tossing the panties over the railing. He fell onto her, kissing her mouth, her jaw, her neck, taking himself in hand and finding her wet folds. He nudged at her, her wet heat scalding him, so tight he had to push harder.

  “Don’t wanna hurt you,” he muttered, nipping her chin. She hissed.

  “Don’t worry.” Her legs opened wider, her pelvis shifted and he thrust harder, submerging himself partially into her hot clasp. Another push, sensation sizzling down his spine, and then another, and he was in her, all the way, deep and tight.

  He groaned, fragments of sanity flashing into his consciousness. She was bruised and sore from the accident and here he was pounding into her on the staircase for God’s sake. They hadn’t even made it to his bed.

  “I’m sorry.” The words squeezed out between his clenched teeth and he kissed her again, her mouth soft and sweet beneath his, her tongue sliding against his, as urgently as his. He thrust into her once, twice, pressure building, heat spiraling.

  She pressed up into him with his every downstroke, her mound bumping his lower belly, and then she cried out, her thighs tightening on his hips, her fingers digging into his shoulders.

  “Ah, Keara, come for me, Keara.” He drove into her one more time and let sensation take him, let himself go, pouring into her in hot hard, pulses.

  He rested his forehead on the carpet beside her while his heart slammed painfully in his chest and his lungs strained for air. “Jesus.”

  “I know.” Her hands moved over his back in short, restless movements. “I know. Dear God, I know.”

  When he could speak, he asked, “Are you okay?”

  “I think so.”

  “I can’t believe we did this.”

  “Me neither.”

  Her hands continued to pet his back.

  “Fuck.”

  “Mmmm?”

  “I can’t believe it,” Shane muttered. “We forgot to use a condom.”

  Her body tightened beneath him. “Uh. Yeah. That was kinda stupid.”

  “It’s not like I don’t have any.” He rolled his forehead back and forth over the carpeted stair. “I’ve got three jumbo boxes of the damn things up in my bedroom.”

  She snorted out a laugh which made her tighten around his still-hard cock. “Really? I thought you’d been using all those.”

  “Ha.” He lifted his head, and frowned down at her, smoothing her hair back from her damp forehead with one hand. “I’m sorry, Keara. Are you…protected?”

  “Yes. And I think I’m safe. I am.”

  “I am too.” He gazed at her. “Sorry.”

  “It’s as much my fault.” She touched his cheek. He went to move off her and out of her, and she winced.

  “What? Shit, I forgot your bruises.”

  “This one from the seatbelt is the worst.” She touched her left collarbone gingerly.

  He pulled out and shoved himself back into his pants but didn’t zip up. Rising, he held a hand out to her and she took it and pulled herself up. She smoothed the skirt down over sexy bare legs.

  “Well,” she said. “You’ve still got plenty of time to get back to the office.”

  He laughed. “Oh no I don’t.” And he grabbed her and swung her up into his arms. With a squeal she clung to his shoulders and he started up the stairs.

  “Shane! What are you doing?”

  “I promised you foreplay and I’m going to give you foreplay.”

  “Uh…wouldn’t that be afterplay?”

  He grinned as he reached the upstairs hall, but didn’t set her down. He carried her into his bedroom. “We’ll call it afterplay and if it leads to something, then we’ll consider it to have turned into foreplay.”

  Her smile made his heart start thudding again. Damn, he liked that smile.

  He carried her over to the bed and lowered her gently to the pouffy surface, a plain navy blue duvet. She sank into the down, loving the softness on her aching body. Aching from the car accident yesterday and now aching from being fucked on the stairs. Her tummy flipped at the thought.

  Shane hadn’t just been doing her a favor. He’d been so hot for her he couldn’t even make it to the bedroom. The idea of that thrilled her to her melting core.

  It had been so hot, so sexy, so wicked she hadn’t noticed any pain, only felt the desperate lustful longing to press herself against him, to have him deep inside her. Lord, she was melting all over again, slow liquid heat seeping down through her body to between her legs. She tightened her thighs and watched Shane start to unbutton his shirt.

  Her mouth went dry and she felt her eyes widen. She’d wanted to see his chest. Dear lord, here it was. He shrugged out of the shirt and let it drop to the floor, and his chest was sooooo hot. Her eyes feasted on the ripped abs, the slabs of his pecs with dark nipples, the dust of hair between, and the thick muscles of his shoulders and upper arms.

  She blinked.

  And then his hands went to his pants, still unzipped and gaping open, the bulge there impressively recuperative.

  Heat surged between her legs a
gain and her nipples tingled as Shane shoved his pants and underwear down. His eyes met hers and he paused. If that had been her, standing there stripping in front of him, she’d be scarlet as Maeve’s hair and trying to cover herself. But Shane stood there unapologetically naked, supremely confident, and damn, he had good reason, because his body was a freakin’ work of art.

  As a teenager he’d had a good body—nice male shape with wide shoulders, narrow hips, smooth bare chest—but he’d become so much more muscular since then. He was a man now—strong and heavily muscled and dominant. Keara’s eyes dropped to the nest of dark curls between thick thighs, and his penis jutting out, also thick, long and male-beautiful.

  Her dry mouth began to water. She wanted to taste him. But at that moment Shane had other ideas and he fell to the bed beside her and began working at the buttons of her shirt.

  He was going to undress her, and her heart swelled in her chest and her pussy dampened even more. It was so tender, so sexy. She longed for him to remove her clothes, ached for his touch.

  She had to touch him too. She stroked over his corded arms and thick biceps as he slowly undid each button on her cotton shirt, then opened it to reveal her to his eyes. The way he studied her, with heavy lids and parted lips, was so sensual she burned. Her nipples tightened and her breasts swelled beneath the white lace of her bra. She knew she wasn’t well endowed, but Shane had never minded that, had loved her breasts and lavished attention on them. Her breasts were sensitive in inverse proportion to their size, and she derived so much pleasure from having them touched that she now longed for him to remove her bra, to reveal her to him, to touch her.

  And he did.

  He slid his hands beneath her back and plucked at the clasp of her bra, opening it easily. Then he drew the cups away from her, slid the straps down over her arms and tossed the lacy garment aside. He looked at her and she tingled and tightened even more beneath his heated gaze.

  “You have got the prettiest breasts in the world,” he whispered, and the awe and admiration in his gaze and in his voice drew everything inside her up into a tight ache. “They’re so perfect.”