3 Seconds

by Bethany Lopez

  I barely registered the chorus of boos and awws, his pull already taking hold of me.

  He didn’t pause when he reached me; instead he came at me full force, pulling me into his arms and fusing his lips to mine. The desire that had been building throughout his performance came to a head, and I met his passion full force, opening my lips and inviting him in for a taste.

  Just as we were reaching the point of no return, Brendan pulled back and smiled beautifully down at me, his eyes flashing with the heat I knew he was feeling.

  “Let’s get out of here.”

  I just nodded, unable to catch my breath enough to speak, and followed close behind as he took my hand and pulled me toward the back rooms of the bar.

  “I’ll follow you,” he said once we reached the back parking lot where his bike was waiting.

  We’d decided to spend the night at my place this time, so I walked to my car, slid in, and drove the short distance to my house. I pulled in the driveway and waited, the hum of his motorcycle mimicking the thrum of my body as I watched him dismount.

  I wondered how my two-bedroom Ranch-style home would look to him. Would he see the hours of love and excitement that had been put into every piece of furniture? Into every color pallet and picture on the wall? Or would he just see the home of a middle-aged, single woman?

  Ready to open myself up and let him get a glimpse into how I became the woman I was today, I held out my hand and guided him inside.

  Chapter Seven ~ Brendan

  I looked around the living room, taking everything in as if I were starved to learn as much about this woman as I possibly could.

  Black-and-white pictures adorned the walls, some family photos, and some pictures of Ireland’s beautiful landscape. There were also quotes about the beach, as well as nautical-themed decorations. The furniture and accent pieces were in teals, sea-foam greens, and white.

  The vibe was easy, comfortable, and inviting. I liked it immediately, and was excited to see this side of Bronagh. I followed her into the kitchen and grinned. With every gadget known to man, a double oven, island with a gas stovetop, and a refrigerator to rival most restaurants’, it was definitely a chef’s showplace.

  “I could live here,” I said honestly as I walked the room, touching everything with awe.

  Bronagh grinned at my declaration and sighed, “Right? It’s perfect. I knew exactly what I wanted, and drove the contractor crazy, but I love it.”

  We walked through the rest of the house, which included a bathroom, an office, and her bedroom, then wandered back in to the kitchen.

  “Are you hungry?” she asked.

  “Starved,” I replied, laughing when my stomach chose that moment to rumble loudly. I was always hungry after a show, probably because I didn’t eat much prior.

  She opened the fridge, pushed items aside as she did a quick inventory of what she had on hand, then turned to me and suggested, “Carbonera?”

  “That sounds perfect. I actually spent a few weeks in a small restaurant in Italy. The chef was very generous and showed me how to make a perfect dish.”

  Bronagh opened her hands, welcoming me to take the lead on the meal prep. Unable to resist the urge, I dropped my head and kissed her lightly, thrilled at the prospect of cooking with her … for her.

  We got out the ingredients and I watched as she pulled out the tools that we’d need, memorizing where everything was kept. I was cocky enough to bank on the fact that I’d be cooking in this kitchen again.

  “So, when did you go to Italy?”

  I pulled the bacon out of the package and started chopping with Bronagh’s butcher knife.

  “After Brock and Victoria got married, the house I grew up in suddenly felt a lot smaller. I knew I needed to give them their space, they were newlyweds after all, so I figured it was time for me to get a place of my own. I started looking at apartments, then realized I’d never really been on my own. I’d never done anything. So I busted into the money I’d been saving while living with Brock, and decided to finally discover the world. I took a break from culinary school and went to Europe, traveled for about a year and a half. I worked odd jobs in restaurants, learning from some of the best chefs in the world, and played gigs in pubs and bars in the evenings.”

  “That sounds amazing,” she said as she fed dough into her pasta machine. “I lived in Europe for a few years, Paris mostly, and I really miss it sometimes. I can’t believe you took off by yourself, with no plan, and just lived … That’s so brave.”

  I shook my head with a grin.

  “I wouldn’t say brave, but it was amazing. I missed my brothers, and when I found out Victoria was pregnant, I knew it was time to come home. But, I wouldn’t trade my time there for anything. I could never learn what I did over there in a classroom … no offense.”

  “None taken,” she replied with a sweet laugh. “I get it. There’s nothing like working in a kitchen with someone who lives and breathes the food they prepare.”

  “Yes, exactly!”

  “So, what countries did you visit?”

  I started the sauce, not immediately answering her question. I was surprised at how nostalgic I felt talking about that time in my life.

  “Ahh, in addition to Venice, I traveled to Rome and Florence. I also worked in Alicante, Glasgow, London, Bruges, Amsterdam, and, of course, Paris.”

  “Mmmm,” was Bronagh’s only response, and when I turned and saw the dreamy look on her face, I knew she was thinking about her own time in Europe.

  “The history and the architecture in each city is amazing, and the food…”

  She lifted her face and nodded. No words were necessary.

  We finished preparing the meal, both lost in memories, then moved to the stools on the other side of the island and sat down to enjoy our hard work.

  “Soooo good,” Bronagh said after her first bite.

  Deciding I needed to learn as much about her as I could, I asked, “What’s your favorite song?”

  “Sugar Magnolia.”

  “Wow,” I responded with a chuckle. “You didn’t even have to think about it. A Dead Head, huh?”

  “No, I wouldn’t say I’m a Dead Head, but that song speaks to me, you know?”

  “Yeah,” I totally did.

  “What about you?” she asked, rolling her pasta around her fork.

  “Right Here by Staind,” I replied automatically. “They write and play the kind of music I want to make.”

  I finished a forkful of Carbonera and decided to delve a little deeper.

  “What’s the most serious relationship you’ve ever had?”

  Bronagh finished chewing, then answered softly, “I was married.”

  “Oh,” I responded, then realized I shouldn’t be surprised. A gorgeous, talented, amazing woman like Bronagh wouldn’t spend her life single. “What happened? If you don’t mind my asking…”

  Bronagh sat back from her now empty plate and placed her hands on her thighs.

  “No, of course not.” She took a deep breath and replied, “I met my husband in a kitchen. I worshiped him … Not in a romantic way, not at first, but his skill and domineering presence in the kitchen drew me to him. I wanted to learn as much from him as possible, and I did, then it turned in to something else. He called me his muse, and I was flattered ... When he asked me to marry him and work side by side with him, I thought my dreams had come true, but he kept me at arm’s length. Don’t get me wrong, he was doting and affectionate, but that was the extent of our relationship.” Bronagh looked at me, her expression sad, and added, “He put me on a pedestal. He didn’t want a partner, he wanted a showpiece. It was as if I was his signature dish … We were married for ten years when I found out that he’d been sleeping with other women the entire time.”

  “What an ass,” I said, disgusted. I may have been a player, but I believed whole-heartedly in the sanctity of marriage. I thought cheaters were the lowest form of life.

  “The funny thing is, when I confronted him,
he really didn’t see what the big issue was,” she said with a dry laugh. “He said that as his wife, I deserved to be treated like porcelain, not degraded by his male urges.” Bronagh looked down, as if ashamed to be telling me that her husband hadn’t treated her like the sexual goddess that she was, so I placed my finger under her chin, and raised her face back up to look directly at me. “What we did together … I’d never done that before. I’ve only had three sexual partners in my life, and they’ve all been pretty tame.”

  My cock hardened at her admission, the animal in me thrilled that I’d be the one to introduce her to new experiences.

  “I’m dying to remedy that situation,” I stated, my gaze falling on her lips when she licked them nervously. “You deserve to be worshiped, Freckles, and I’m happy to be the man that shows you all the things you’ve been missing.”

  Chapter Eight ~ Bronagh

  “What’s the most serious relationship you’ve ever had?” I asked, going back to our earlier conversation.

  We were lying in my bed, our naked bodies haphazardly covered by my pale-yellow sheets. He’d just introduced me to the more positive aspects of the sixty-nine position, and we were both feeling loose and satisfied.

  Brendan turned his head and brought his eyes to mine.

  “I’ve never really had one.”

  “Really?” I asked, unable to contain my surprise at his response. I knew he was young, but still, he was old enough to have had girlfriends. “Not even in high school?”

  Brendan shook his head. He brought his hand up and ran it over his face, and I couldn’t tell if he was embarrassed by the fact, or frustrated that I’d asked.

  “No, I mean, I hung out with girls in high school, took ‘em to dances and stuff, but I’ve never called anyone my girlfriend. I don’t know … Brock dated off and on growing up, but he came with too much baggage for most women to handle, and I watched Brady get put through the ringer by the girl he loved. I guess I just never thought it was worth it. I didn’t want the stress and heartache. It felt better to keep things casual and always experience the fun side of relationships.” He closed his eyes and added, “And I know that makes me sound like a major asshole.”

  I thought about his response, and since I could understand his position, I replied honestly, “No, I get it, you were protecting yourself. You’ve dealt with major loss, Brendan, so I can see why you’d be guarded. I wouldn’t say that makes you a major asshole, maybe just a minor one…” I elbowed him lightly to let him know I was joking, and was pleased when he chuckled.

  When he sobered he said, “I was always upfront with the girls I hooked up with, letting them know I wasn’t looking to meet the parents or carry their purse while we’re out shopping for dresses.” He shifted so he was on his side facing me and proceeded to make my heart clench. “I’ve never felt with anyone the things I feel with you, and although I have no experience, and I’ll probably screw this thing up, I’d like to see where it goes.”

  “You mean you want to see each other exclusively?” I asked, wanting to make sure we were on the same page.

  “Yes.”

  “No groupies?”

  “None.”

  “And you want to meet my da and carry my purse while we go dress shopping?”

  Brendan laughed at that, his handsome face lighting up.

  “Absolutely.”

  “That’s not really what relationships are about, you know that, right?”

  “I told you I had no experience.”

  I smirked at him, then brought my finger up to trace his lips.

  “I’ll be happy to teach you,” I replied, thinking about the things he’d promised to teach me. “It’ll be a learning experience for both of us.”

  He sucked the tip of my finger into his mouth and bit it lightly, causing shivers to run through me.

  “What’s the best sexual experience you’ve ever had?” I asked.

  “With you the night we met.”

  “Good answer,” I replied, thinking it was definitely mine as well. “What’s the worst thing you’ve ever said to a woman you were hooking up with?”

  Brendan’s eyebrows rose and he asked, “Do you really want me to answer that? I don’t want to look like more of a pig than I already do.”

  “I don’t think that’s possible,” I responded, and when he scowled I realized how the must have taken my words. “That’s not what I meant.” I laughed and added, “I meant that you couldn’t say anything that would change my mind about you…” I thought about it, then amended, “Unless you tell me that you shamed someone, or hurt someone, and got off on it. That would change everything.”

  Brendan took a deep breath and looked pained, which caused me to panic and wonder if I should retract my statement. Maybe I didn’t want to know.

  “I once told a girl to blow me, or I was going to sleep.”

  If I’d been standing, I would have been bent over, that’s how hard I started laughing. I don’t know if it was so much that I thought what he said was funny, or if I was relieved that he wasn’t a closet sadist, but when I was able to catch my breath long enough I asked, “Wha-at?”

  “It had been a long night and I was tired. I’d picked her up after a show, but by the time we got to her place I wasn’t feeling it anymore. She wanted to talk about the show and was pouring more drinks, and all I wanted to do was get some shuteye. I’d already had a few to drink, nothing to eat, and was exhausted and cranky, so I gave her an ultimatum. I’m not proud of it, and every time I think about it, I feel bad.”

  “Did she do it?”

  He searched my face, as if gauging my reaction. He must have seen that I wasn’t disgusted or angry with him, so he grinned and replied cockily, “Of course.”

  I pulled my pillow from beneath my head and wacked him on the face.

  “Pig.”

  “I never claim to be anything else, Freckles,” he drawled.

  I put my pillow down and sat up, my sheet falling to my waist and exposing my breasts.

  “I think there’s a lot more to you than that,” I replied softly, arching my back when his hands came up to cup my breasts, his thumbs teasing my nipples. I moved my hand underneath the covers, and found him already hard and ready for me.

  I leaned down to kiss him, moaning against his lips when he pinched my nipples hard. He opened his mouth for me and I swept in, suddenly driven by hunger and need. Lifting my leg and swinging it over, I straddled him and began to slide my throbbing wet center over him, stopping to tease the head of his cock as I moved. I repeated this motion, unashamed at how quickly aroused I became with him. If his groans were any indication, he was just as ready as I was, and that fact turned me on even more.

  “Turn around,” he said gruffly, and although his request surprised me, I complied with his orders.

  Not quite graceful, I turned so I was straddling him the other way, with my face toward his feet, and my ass on display. I felt a moment of panic at this new position, then his hands came to my hips and lifted me, and I looked down to watch him slide into me.

  “Ohhh,” I murmured, my vision getting blurry around the edges as desire raged inside of me. Then it clicked, “Condom,” I spat when I realized we’d gotten carried away.

  I heard Brendan curse, then eased off of him so he could turn to get the packet off the nightstand. He made quick work of the wrapper, rolled it on, then his hands were back at my hips. This time he held me still as he thrust up in me. My head still down, I watched in fascination and filled with a fire I never new existed as I watched him thrust in and out.

  “Move,” Brendan said through clenched teeth, and I realized that I’d been more of a spectator than participant, so I leaned forward, clasped my hands around his thighs, and began to rock.

  “Deep, so very deep,” I whispered as I moved with him, his cock seeming to fill every inch of me. I felt my release starting to build, so I leaned forward and closed my eyes as my breath caught and my body began to burn. Realizing that I was a
bout to come, and unsure of how close Brendan was, I moved my hand up his thigh and then down to cup his balls.

  We’d only had a few sexual encounters, but I’d already learned that this was a trigger for him, and would make him come hard.

  “Shit,” I heard him say from behind me, and I knew he was close, so I began pumping with all my might, focusing on my own release as I lightly rolled his balls in the palm of my hand.

  Pleasure crashed through me, just as I heard him shout, so I braced myself against his thighs and rocked back and forth, milking the orgasms out of both of us.

  Both panting heavily and slick with sweat; I eased myself off of Brendan and fell backwards onto the bed, not caring where I landed. I felt the bed shift, and heard the water running a few moments later. Content and satiated, I flipped over onto my belly, bent one knee to get comfortable, and lifted my hair off of my neck, before closing my eyes and humming contentedly in the back of my throat.

  I felt Brendan’s hand run along the length of my back as the bed depressed, signaling his movements. His kissed the back of my neck lightly, moved the rest of my hair off my face, and said softly in my ear, “I really like you, Bronagh.”

  “I really like you too,” I replied, right before I drifted off.

  Chapter Nine ~ Brendan

  “Have you seen Natalie recently?” Brady asked. We were having a much-needed brother’s night out. Just the two of us. Brock was working late, and we were planning to meet up with him at his house later. For now, it was just Brady and me enjoying great steaks and refreshing dark beer at our favorite local steakhouse.

  “Um.” I thought back, trying to remember the last time I’d seen her. “She wasn’t on shift the last time we played, so probably the time before that. Why, what’s up?”

  My brother had recently gotten his hair styled differently, and was wearing it longer and messy/spiky on top. That paired with the day-old beard, and tank top showing off the black-and-white tattoo adorning his left arm from shoulder to forearm, had all the ladies shooting glances his way.