Eluding Nirvana (The Dark Evoke Series Book 2)

by Brock, V. L.

  My swallow reflex was resisting thanks to that lump of desire lodged in my throat, as his right hand left my spine and came around me to hold my hand as I grasped the cue. “Yes,” I rasped, trying with everything I had to focus on that damn striped ball instead of the weight and heat of the Irishman on my back, my leg between his, his arms around me, shielding me as the scent of smoky garlic and beer caressed and pasted onto my neck and jawline.

  “Pull back,” he guided my right arm back. “Tell me when you’re ready, darlin’.”

  I didn’t ever think I would’ve been ready, but I said it anyway. When my words were freed in a sigh, he muttered the single word, “Softly,” in my ear, and gently guided my right arm through to hit the white, which collided with, and sent my desired ball into the pocket.

  “I did it,” I shrieked, straightening my posture.

  “’Aye, that you did, darlin’.” He grinned, and then lifted his head to his father who was still arranging glasses behind the bar. “See, Da, told you I’m a good tutor.”

  The old man simply grunted before Walker turned back to me. “You get another shot. Just try not to pocket my solid, okay, darlin’.”

  It was bizarre. I probably should have felt awkward to a certain degree with the Irishman’s choice of words and the way in which they were spoken. But I didn’t. I found myself amused and desired, and I suppose some part of me, at least for tonight, felt like I was able to let my hair down.

  Those dimples of his made an A+ appearance before I playfully back handing him in the gut. Feigning a wound and bowled over with a grunt, he looked adorable as I rounded him.

  “You say I got a dirty mind.”

  “Takes one to know one, darlin’. Now, have you chosen your ball?”

  Studying the table intently, I finally nodded pointing to the top left pocket. When I just stood there staring at the sphere like I was going to move it telekinetically, he chuckled. “Want another hand?”

  “Please…”

  Before I knew it, his heavy, hard body was shielding my back once again. In spite of taking position, I felt out of place, almost off center. As I attempted to get comfortable, I shifted my right leg less than an inch, but that inch was enough to cause my behind to graze along something that really shouldn’t have been in my reach.

  A faint gasp at the connection from behind had my body stiffening and cheeks heating. Damn, what was I saying? My entire body was heating, muscles in my belly fluttered while every hair follicle stood to attention.

  I wrenched my head to my left to peek over my shoulder. The side of Walker’s face so close that if I moved an inch closer, my cheek would have been brushed against that prickly scruff coating his jaw. “Shit, sorry.”

  Locking our eyes, he muttered something so direct, that I would never be able to look at a ball the same without that statement resurfacing. I would remember it, and the effect it had on my body, until my dying day. “When I said focus on the balls, Kady,”––his eyes fluttered shut for a split second––“I meant the ones on the table, darlin’.”

  Less than an inch away from his face, his body cloaking mine as he folded me over the felt, my ass unintentionally grinded against him again as I dropped my weight through my hip, anew. Ragged, unsteady breaths grated from my lungs. As my tongue swept across my lips, I felt them trembling.

  How can so much be told, secrets and undisciplined desires, become blatant knowledge in one look? When glassy eyes fluttered down to his lips, I had to shake myself out of it. I’d be lying if I said what I felt at that moment didn’t terrify me. It did. Because one man, one situation, and one measly statement, had me almost abandoning my morals.

  Once I finally dragged my focus back to the game and took my shot, I totally missed sending it bouncing off the cushion. That mishap caused me to spend the next four consecutive shots, studying Walker as he successfully pocketed his solids, and trying so hard not to be distracted by the calculating look in his eye, his tongue resting on his lower lip, and the way he looked as he doubled over.

  I was sipping my beer when he finally fucked up on the shot. “Fuck. You’re up, Kady.”

  With a deep breath I examined what was left of the stripes and solids. I was so going to lose this one. When I comfortably took my position, he asked if I needed any further assistance. Body bent, head down low, I pinned him with my eyes. His smirk and tiny gasp didn’t go unnoticed. “I think I’ll try myself.”

  “As you wish,” he muttered composed, a smirk and a lop-sided nod of his head rendered me speechless, while addictive tingles spawned in my body.

  I took everything he’d taught me in such small time and steadily, I guided my arm through and successfully dropped the ball into the pocket. Complete concentration, I dropped one after another, after another until finally, only the black was left, torturing me with its impossible angle. How the fuck was this going to work? I couldn’t even reach the white to hit it anyway.

  “You alright there, darlin’?” he mocked me.

  “How the Hell am I supposed to hit that?” I glared at him, pointing to the table. “I can’t reach.”

  “As long as one foot is on the floor, you can climb on.”

  He had to be fucking kidding me. Accompanied by a dirty minded smirk, I made damn sure my right foot was on the floor, as I lifted my left leg and spread myself out on the felt. “I thought my days of climbing on tables were over with,” I spoke harshly, but had to stifle the small snort which was brewing.

  I was shifting and adjusting, but I’d be fucked if I could somehow manage to find a position that I could use to my advantage. “Need a hand there, darlin’?”

  Over my shoulder I peeked, half of my body spread out in invitation on the table like some playboy centerfold, and I couldn’t help but think that I would feel less conscious knowing he was shielding me, rather than watching the very…provocative pose I had gotten myself in. “Please,” I nodded.

  Staying perfectly still, at that moment I felt as though I was about to be mauled by a bear. I sensed him behind me, standing between the edge of the table and my right leg. When he slithered up and over my body, every muscle from head to toe tensed and quivered inexorably. Every hard muscle of him was digging into me, my back, my behind. Even his burly arms which were concealed by his shirt were pressed against me, guiding me as I supported the cue. I took a deep, pacifying breath, his scent torturing me just as much as the weight, warmth, prominence, and the mere thought of the position we found ourselves in.

  “Ready?”

  I wish he would’ve stopped asking me that, because every time he did, my unruly mind was tethering the question to my slowly diminishing morals. I couldn’t speak in fear of panting, so I simply succumbed to a nod of my head.

  The callouses coating his hands were pressed against the soft skin of my knuckles as we pulled back in unison, and by God alive, it was the most thrilling, lust-filled motion that I had ever experienced in my life. I couldn’t concentrate on what we were doing, our goal. My mind was too busy tossing images and tantalizing tidbits out to taunt me, to tempt me.

  So I let him guide my arm through as though it was him taking the shot. Somehow the black fell into the pocket. As it did, all I could do was let my head fall forward, allowing the abrasion of the felt to press against my brow. It was either that, or I knew I wouldn’t be able to resist the abrasion of the Irishman’s scruff to caress my cheek.

  Chapter Seventeen

  It was 12:15 a.m. by the time we headed out of McGinty’s. I’d said my farewells to Walker’s father, only for him to order that I call him Carriag, and that I was to come back again soon.

  I couldn’t promise that I would. But I told him I’d at least try.

  Twenty minutes passed in a gawky silence as Walker drove me home. I couldn’t help chancing the odd glimpse in his direction. He looked so in control and defiant with his left hand casually grasping the wheel, while his right fisted into that hair, leaving it sexy and rumpled.

  He offered a quick p
eek in my direction before turning back onto the road, as my left hand worked its way to the curve of my shoulder and neck, before rubbing at my nape.

  I smiled. “Thank you for a fun night. It’s been a long time since I…” I trailed off, my voice getting smaller and smaller while my head lowered for the briefest of moments before peeking back up. “Just, thank you.”

  “I suppose this means that I’ll be keeping my job then.”

  The corner of my lower lip was nipped after a small giggle and a long, dreamy sigh. Letting my teeth drag across the plump flesh, I finally spoke. “Yeah, I guess it does.”

  When we pulled up outside the house, I noticed the only light which was on, was that of Liam’s home office. He must have still been settling things on the old Williamson Estate. It felt like the project had been going forever.

  “Here,” Walker shifted causing the leather of the bench to squeal, and dug his hand into the back pocket of his pants. When he handed me a folded piece of paper, my brow instantly furrowed. “Just in case you need anything.”

  The twitching corners of my mouth gave way to a cautious smile as I studied his phone number. “Is this…” I peeked at him, the paper was caressed by my fingertips as though they sought to caress his face. I lost myself in his gaze, a shadow cast over the side of his face adding a little mystery. “Is this a good idea?”

  A rumble of a snigger made my breath hitch, while he hung his head and his right thumb rubbed the center of his upper lip. When he looked up, his expression turned coy. “It’s just a number, Kady. In case you want or need to talk. That’s all. Nothing else.”

  I won’t lie. I felt a small pang in my chest at his instance of ‘nothing else’. And that pang alone should have been enough reason to scrunch up the number and toss it in the trash.

  “We all need someone to talk to at some point, darlin’. Sometimes venting helps diffuse a situation before it gets out of hand.”

  His choice of words had thrown me. I didn’t know what he was referring to, but I wasn’t naïve enough not to know that there was a reference behind them. Slipping the paper into the side zipper of my purse, I said my thanks again for a fun night and ejected myself from the truck, placing a safe distance between me and temptation.

  “Hey,” I angled my head around the door of Liam’s home office.

  “Good morning,” he grinned, pushing himself back into his seat. Was that a sarcastic statement or a happy one, considering I had done as I was told and was kept out until past this time? I didn’t know, and that unknown bred a menacing shudder which turned my blood to ice. “I take it you were shown a good time?”

  “Yeah, we had fun. Your night doesn’t look so fun though.”

  “Ah,” he lifted his arms and let them fall back to the arms of his chair. “It’s been quite interesting actually.”

  “You always find interest in the most trifling of things. I’m going to bed. I’d really like for you to join me,” I posed with a suggestive arch of my brow. If there was one thing I needed, it was that dull ache in my lower abdomen to be hit head-on and the sexual, pent-up frustration to be alleviated.

  “I’d love to, baby, but I’ve got a lot that I need to get done.”

  I folded my arms over my chest and cocked my head. “And I can’t draw you away from being master of the Boston skyline for thirty minutes?”

  “Sorry, baby. Maybe tomorrow.” Stunned after his rejection hit me in the face at full force, he went back to his work leaving me to saunter down the hall, to the bedroom…alone and very, very horny.

  When I got there and out of my clothing, I slipped myself between the cool satin sheets. Thoughts of the night spiraled around my mind, the line between right and wrong blurring as each end of the spectrum was blended together. What started off as a small throb was quickly becoming an unbearable ache as I closed my eyes, the heat and heaviness of a certain someone still bearing upon my back.

  My nipples strained painfully against the satin, my hands caressed at the heavy, tightening burdens on my chest before skimming down my sternum, my stomach, to the summit of my inner thighs. Back arched, I thrust my hips up as my hand plunged under the band of my panties and glided downward over my core, drawing a small gasp of pleasure from my lips. My middle finger swept along the damp heat and creamy slickness as my thighs fell further open, a current of desire and need shooting from the tip of my clit through my entire body as I shuddered.

  What was I doing? What was I thinking? This was…it was…fuck it was nice…

  Rough, baited pants were passing my lips while my pelvis gyrated under my touch. Slow fingers orbited over the swelling peak of my core at a leisurely pace, and it was exhilarating, feeling the evidence of what my private touch was instigating. All the while, a certain pleasant, seductive brogue was rounding my mind, his scent and his innuendos. Oh God, the feel of his body as I accidentally grinded against him, the bulge in his pants, the image of that final position we took atop of that table, teased my mind as I continued teasing my seeping core.

  Eyes screwed tightly, I licked my lips, my hand relentlessly worked on fueling my body, my hips circled, my shoulder raised. I felt my wetness coating the material of my panties while I stroked myself inside of them, tiny bolts of electricity firing from that nub of nerve endings that the tips of my fingers were stimulating at an agonizing slow pace. I was in no rush. I needed an intense, body shaking orgasm. I knew it wouldn’t be as pungent as the ones the man down the hall could give me, but I needed it as powerful as I could give myself.

  ‘When I said focus on the balls, Kady, I meant the ones on the table, darlin’,’ his words tormented my mind as I envisioned his scruff pressing between my thighs, his tongue taking the place of my fingers. With round, sweeping motions all I could focus on was the image of his tongue doing what I was doing to myself, tasting the juice of my core escaping at the mere fantasy of him here with me.

  Sweat beaded on my brow and down the crevice of my spine, and soon, every muscle in my body began to stiffen and contract. My lower back and abdomen surrendered to the weightlessness of bliss as the pressure behind my touch gained, my speed rapid. I chewed on the edge of the comforter to stifle my cries as my body erupted, trembling and tightening as my synapses sparked and fired, then traveled through my entirety with heady jolts of bliss.

  Breathless and wasted, I allowed my body to sink into the mattress, and as I spiraled down from my release, I was caught by a generous amount of guilt.

  I just fantasized about another man, a fantasy that brought me to orgasm, when my man was less than thirty-five feet away. What the fuck was I doing?

  Have you ever experienced those moments when you’re caught between dream and reality. You know, those moments just before you flutter your eyes and prepare yourself for the day, when you forget everything? That’s what I felt when I woke the following morning.

  I was stretching my body, alleviating the tightness in my muscles and joints with a smile on my face, when I fluttered my eyelids and came face-to-face with that damn phone on the bedside.

  That damn phone was the trigger to my shit awful day.

  At some point during the early hours the thing had started ringing. It shocked me awake. Disorientated, I clambered over Liam’s empty side of the bed and picked it up. It somehow connected to phone in the home office, and like some masochist, I deserted slumber and allowed myself to listen to the voices on the other end.

  The voice of Liam…the voice of Liv.

  “Liam, I’m not sure how that would work. We’ve pushed it a few times,” she giggled, practically uncaring.

  “Trust me, it’ll be fine. Come on, we have to, Liv.”

  As the words played havoc with my mind, gut-wrenching tears sprang to my eyes while fury and betrayal became my morning wake up call.

  “Good morning, Kady baby,” Liam was standing in the doorway, already dressed in his light gray suit and blue shirt. The mattress swallowed in my hands as I pushed myself up to sit. “I brought you breakfast.”


  Breakfast, I inwardly scoffed. He thinks breakfast will help diminish a guilty fucking conscience?

  The distance between us was closed. The bed plunged as he set the wooden tray on my lap and took a seat against the lower left post of the bed. I examined the contents of the tray: bacon, pancakes, scrambled eggs and ketchup, with a glass of orange juice and a cup of coffee, the full-bodied aroma traveled along the steam as it danced and spiraled into the air. At least there was no blood sausage or mushrooms on it this time. So I knew this wasn’t a punishment breakfast at least.

  “What’s the matter, baby? You look a little pale.”

  Sitting in silence, I didn’t dare look at him. I knew I’d break if I did. How could I have been so naive? I’d listened to her for hours gushing over this new man in her life. Her words continued a haunting tune in my mind as I stared blankly at the array on the tray. ‘It’s not my fault that she can’t see what’s happening in front of her eyes, Kady. Why should I feel guilty? If it was a happy home, then he wouldn’t have come to me in the first place.’

  The mental fog began to lift. Was that the reason why Liam made it his mission to for all this time to keep us separated?

  “Kady?” the voice laced with concern reeled me back. I lifted my head. “What’s wrong baby? You’re worrying me.”

  “What’s going on with you and Liv?” The words tumbled unbidden from my lips. I couldn’t suppress this. This was something that needed to be said, that needed to have place in the open air so we knew where we both stood.

  His face fell and a scowl appeared. Usually, that expression of his would’ve had me cowering. But not at that moment. At that moment, I was making it my mission to find out exactly what the fucking Hell was going on behind my back, with someone who was supposed to be my best friend and my partner. “Excuse me?”