Sure, it was difficult to grab time alone with the house so full but it had been a full week since we’d had sex and that was a long time for us. She drove me just as wild as she had when we’d first met and it wasn’t unusual for me to carry her straight upstairs when I got home from the construction site. And however shy she acted, as soon as we started kissing, Louise’s other side came out and she’d be just as breathlessly eager as me.
I stared down at those creamy breasts and the lacy edges of her bra and felt myself getting hard. Sex, I reasoned, might be just what she needed to relax her and get her to tell me whatever was bothering her. I sat down behind her, pressed my chest to her back and wrapped one arm around her waist. She gasped: she’d been too deep in thought to hear me approach. I cupped her chin and gently tipped her head back for my kiss.
She looked up into my eyes and I saw the worry there. She’d been sitting here stressing over something, just as she had been all week. Well, fine, I’d kiss that stress away.
But then, as she focused on me, something happened that made me freeze. Just for an instant, I saw the fear and tension in her face increase.
Her eyes closed and for a second we just stayed there: her face upturned for my kiss, my heart slamming in my chest as I tried to decipher what I’d just seen. She was worried about something...and seeing me made it worse? My stomach twisted. Something was going on with her and I had no idea what. Was she sick? Worried about Kayley or my brothers being here, or something else? Whenever I asked her, she claimed everything was fine.
I cursed inwardly, feeling clumsier than ever. With everything we’d been through over the summer, I’d learned to communicate a little better. But I still wasn’t exactly silver-tongued. I’d never been in a long-term relationship until Louise.
All I knew was, I had to make her feel better. I’d kiss her and then, once things got heated, we’d slip away upstairs. And then, after sex, I’d somehow convince her to talk to me.
My lips came down on hers and she let out a little moan of need. My lips twitched into a smile. There she is! That was the Louise I remembered. I kissed her slow and deep and she responded, her body relaxing. My hands moved to her breasts—
She gasped, broke the kiss and pushed my hands away. “Don’t!”
I frowned at her, wondering if she was playing. Does she want to do the ravished princess thing again? My hands cautiously closed on her breasts again but, before I’d even touched them, she squirmed out of my grip and crossed her arms protectively over her chest.
I stared at her. What did I do?
She bit her lip. “They’re just really sensitive right now.”
I ran a hand through my hair. Now she didn’t want me touching her? I wracked my brains for some way to cheer her up. Something romantic. “How about, tonight, we let the others fend for themselves and you and me eat out here?” I said at last. “A picnic. I could get us a bottle of wine.”
Her eyes went big. “I don’t, uh...feel like wine,” she said weakly.
I sighed. “Did I do something to piss you off?”
“No!”
I reached for her hand. “Then what—”
She sprang to her feet. In the space of just a few seconds she’d gone from horny to stressed: almost panicked. “Nothing! Just….” She pushed at the air with her palms.
Just stay here.
Just leave me alone.
And then she was gone, running off into the house. Feck! What the hell was going on with her? I swore I could see tears in her eyes and that made my chest lock up tight. She was never normally moody like this.
What the hell is wrong with my girl? And how the hell do I fix it?
19
Kian
I stalked into my bedroom and shut the door behind me. I’d been trying to understand the cult for so long, my brain felt like lead. We were all feeling the same: everyone else was taking a break outside in the sunshine but, when Sean and Carrick had emerged from the house to join us, everyone had coupled off. I didn’t want to stand there looking awkward so I’d come here.
But the bedroom didn’t feel right, either. I couldn’t relax: I started pacing like a caged animal. I sat down on the bed but almost immediately jumped up: the big four poster was too romantic, too obviously built for a couple.
I needed her.
This was the first time I’d had to do without her: we’d barely been apart since we got together. I wasn’t used to this, to this...tugging. I’d spent so many years on my own, had my first family ripped away from me and then, in Iraq, lost a second one when the rest of my unit had been wiped out. I’d sworn I wouldn’t let myself get close to anyone again because it hurt too much. And yet, when I met Emily, I couldn’t resist. Not that face, not that pert, energetic body, not her soft Texan voice or her caring ways. I’d opened up and let her in and….
And now it felt like there was a part of me missing, every hour I was without her. I’d never felt like that about anyone before.
I cursed and paced some more. I shouldn’t be like this, shouldn’t be weak like this. I was meant to protect her. I was the big one, the strong one. I loved to fold her into my arms and hold her close but now...I guess I hadn’t realized how much I needed her smallness, her grace, to balance me out.
I finally broke, fired up my laptop, and called Emily. A few seconds later, her face appeared on the screen...and it was like I’d thrown open the windows and fresh, clean air had filled the room. I drew down a deep lungful. I could breathe again.
“What?” asked Emily, immediately.
“Nothing,” I muttered. I sat down on the edge of the bed and put the laptop on my knees. Emily was wearing a dress I hadn’t seen before, navy blue and made of some soft, clingy material. It left her shoulders bare but she had a knitted gray shawl around them: the President’s daughter can’t show too much skin. It was all very modest but that didn’t make it any less hot. My eyes traced her soft curls of mahogany hair: I wanted to sink my fingers into it and feel it against my knuckles. I wanted to stroke my thumb over her cheek and feel the softness of her skin. I wanted those big, liquid eyes to be locked on mine face-to-face, not over a damn camera.
Dammit, I was falling in love with her all over again.
“You’re staring,” she said.
“I know.”
She blushed.
“What are you all dressed up for?”
“Garden party, this afternoon. One of mom’s fundraiser things.”
I looked at the clock in the corner of the screen. It wasn’t even noon yet but of course there was a three hour time difference. It made her seem even further away. “You find anything out?”
She shook her head and the way her hair tossed made me want to reach right through the screen and kiss her hard. “It’s making me mad. I’ve looked into plenty of companies that were trying to hide what they were doing. But this isn’t like Rexortech. It’s too loose, too chaotic. That should make it easy: I mean, if these people are just a disorganized rabble, they should be easy to track down. But when you try to grab onto something—”
I nodded. “—it’s just not there.” I felt my overworked brain start to cool down: Emily’s voice was like a soothing balm. It helped, just having someone to vent to. “I know exactly what you mean. I thought I’d found something this morning. Started to follow it up...and the leads just went nowhere, like this little group of cult members weren’t attached to anything. Which makes no sense. Makes me want to punch something.” I frowned. The whole thing reminded me of something but I couldn’t figure out what.
Both of us sighed and sat back from our screens. Then Emily’s camera suddenly jerked and her eyes went wide in panic. My view seemed to tumble, I saw her lean forward and then the camera righted itself. “Sorry,” she said. “Knocked the laptop with my knee and it fell off the desk.”
But I was just staring at the screen. When the laptop fell, I’d seen: “What are you wearing?”
Emily looked bemused. “Nothing! A dress.”
“Tilt the camera down again!”
The camera wobbled as she picked up the whole laptop and then my view tilted as she panned down. She was sitting in a desk chair, knees a little to one side and legs crossed. The dress was modest on top but it finished above the knee and it must have ridden up a little as she sat down. Her legs looked amazing.
“Your legs look amazing,” I said out loud.
“Oh!” she reached down and started to tug the hem down.
“No!” I said sharply. “Don’t.”
She looked up into the camera and her eyes widened as she saw the look in my eyes.
20
Emily
God, I missed him. Ever since his face appeared on my screen, I was trying to figure out how to tell him how much, without triggering him to rush back home to Washington. The last thing I wanted was to come between him and his search for Bradan. I just felt so useless, sitting there in DC. Sure, I was helping but I wasn’t there. And he needed me.
And then I looked into the camera and saw that look in his eyes and I realized he needed me in different way, too. The heat in his gaze blazed across my skin, my clothes becoming insignificant wisps of cloth, scarcely there. It soaked into my flesh and coalesced in my core. I swallowed and pressed my thighs together. An idea had jumped into my head and I knew he’d had the exact same one.
I silently shook my head. We can’t. I was sitting in the White House, for God’s sake. There were people around. But it had been over a week. And just the idea, just holding it in my head for a brief second before dismissing it, had left me wet.
We can’t.
But what if we did?
I bit my lip and looked over my shoulder. The door was closed. I looked back at Kian. He still had the same look in his eyes. I could see his muscled chest rising and falling smoothly under his white shirt as he watched me, a beast ready to pounce….
“Move the camera back, so I can see all of you,” he said.
I did it.
“Lose the shawl,” he said. I swore his Irish accent had grown stronger. It had always been beautiful but now it seemed to resonate through me, a magic frequency that made every hair on my arms and neck stand on end and my breathing grow quick. I shrugged off the shawl and it slithered to the floor behind me, leaving my shoulders bare. Kian’s eyes narrowed in lust. I could see his gaze trace down the length of my neck, swore I could feel it as it burned its way across my naked shoulder and down to the neckline of my dress. “What are we going to do?” I asked. My voice sounded almost drunk: I hadn’t admitted to myself how much I’d been needing him and now it was all coming out at once.
“I’m going to make you come.” His voice had dropped to a low growl and this time the vibration of it seemed to throb right through the floor, buzz up my legs and explode in my groin.
“But you’re not here,” I whispered.
“I can be,” he said. I saw him lean forward: he was gazing more intently into the camera than I’d ever seen anyone gaze at anything. And then I realized he was gazing at me and it was like a hot bomb going off inside me. “Close your eyes, Emily.”
I closed my eyes.
“Stand up and hoik up that dress for me, beautiful.”
I drew in my breath and opened my lips to tell him that I couldn’t do this, wasn’t confident enough to...perform for him on webcam. But he knew what I was going to say before I said it.
“Yes you can.”
And suddenly, hearing his voice...it was like he was right there with me in the room, sitting across from me. As if I could reach right out and touch my fingers to his.
I stood, reached down and slowly lifted the hem of my dress, inching it up my thighs. He was silent as it rose up over my ass, up to my waist.
“I like your panties,” he growled. I tried to remember what I was wearing. I didn’t want to open my eyes, didn’t want to break the illusion—growing stronger each second—that he was there. He went silent for a moment and I could feel his gaze caress me like heated silk: sliding around my ankles, rising up my calves, my thighs, my hips, toying with the edges of my panties. “God, I love your legs,” he said at last. It was so simple, so him, but better than any poetry because of the passion I could hear in his voice, the Irish silver turned molten. “Now push your panties down.”
I swallowed and hooked my thumbs into the waistband of my panties. I can’t do this, I thought, but the blood was rushing in my ears and, as I toyed nervously with them, thumbs stretching the elastic, suddenly I felt him pressing up against me from behind. It was so real, I almost spun around. I could feel his hard chest against my back, the hot weight of his cock between the cheeks of my ass. “Push them down,” he whispered and I gasped: his voice was right in my ear, hot breath making loose strands of hair tickle my cheek.
I pushed my panties down. Felt the cool air of the room lap at my sensitive flesh, felt the shock of being naked in the middle of the day. And yet his gaze was there to warm me, making me writhe and twist around that part of me, gently swirling my hips. The panties fell around my feet and I kicked them away, my dress still held up around my waist. I felt his big, warm palms cover my ass, sliding over my cheeks, squeezing gently, and—
“Play with yourself,” he said, his voice low so as not to make me jump. My hand had started to move there just before he said it: I couldn’t stop myself. My fingers found my wetness and started to glide up and down, my hips rocking to meet my touch. It was soft and gentle at first but the heat built rapidly, spiraling up my legs, weakening them.
I sank a little, knees bending, as the heat crept inward and concentrated. My ass dipped, my thighs starting to clamp together on my hand, and I stroked faster, faster. My ragged breathing filled the room. Behind my closed eyelids I could see Kian’s blue eyes staring right at me, eating up every detail and the heat grew brighter, heavier, drawing everything into its core. It was happening much faster than normal, the effect of being apart for a week. I could hear him breathing hard, too, that tight, quick panting that means a man is close. God, he must be— While he’s watching me….
I was rushing towards it now, out of control. My thighs crushed together, my fingers rubbing hard as my thumb circled my clit. My ass was clenching and circling, grinding up against Kian as he wrapped his body around mine from behind, his hand covering mine, pressing against my slickened fingers—
I came with a cry, bending almost double, riding it out. I heard Kian give a groan of pleasure and heard the staccato gasps of his own release. When I finally opened my eyes and slumped down in my chair, legs shaking, he was grinning at me.
We ended the call a few minutes later, promising to stay in touch, promising to be careful. But when he was gone, I sat there staring at the empty screen, wishing I was in LA with him.
I knew how tough he was. And combined with his three brothers and the girls they were a force to be reckoned with.
But I couldn’t help thinking that they were in over their heads.
21
Annabelle
I’d rediscovered swinging.
Sean had walked off with Louise towards the greenhouse. Sylvie and Aedan had gone to sit in the long, meadow-like grass. Kian had disappeared indoors. So Carrick and I were alone and everything was quiet except for the creak of the ropes and the sound of the wind in the leaves above me.
The swing was built big enough that an adult could use it without feeling silly. It was an oak plank polished until it shone like dark taffy: Sean said it was a floorboard he’d ripped up when he renovated the place. He’d punched two holes through the ends and hung it from ropes from a tree. Then Louise had somehow trained a climbing plant—I had no idea what it was called but it had little purple and white flowers—along the branch and down the ropes. You could sit there facing one way and see nothing but nature and the old, wooden house. Or you could face the other way and look at the city spread out before you like a map. I loved it.
Carrick was pushing me gently, just enough to make my hair billo
w out behind me on the upswing. The wooden seat was warm through the thin material of my dress and the gentle motion was incredibly soothing. I haven’t done this since I was a kid. “We need one of these at the cabin,” I told him.
“Um-hum.”
Something sounded different. I looked over my shoulder: yep, he was smiling. I hadn’t seen that in days. Maybe he figured something out about the cult. “How’s it going?”
“Terrible,” he smiled. “Still hitting a brick wall. Maybe that fed had a point: this thing is impenetrable.”
I nodded. “I’m stuck too. We all are.” Then I frowned. “Wait: so why are you smiling?”
He grinned even wider. “I dunno. I sorted some stuff out. Stuff I should have cleared up a long time ago.’ He looked around at the outdoors and took in a deep lungful of air. “Feels good.”
I nodded and felt something relax inside me, too. Carrick had always carried so much weight: for the MC, for his brothers. If anyone needed to find peace, it was him.
At that moment, a horn beeped. We looked up to see a truck pulled up outside the house. The same company we’d shipped the bike with.
Carrick’s strong hands caught the swing and easily brought it to a stop. Then he drew it backward until my back and ass were pressed against his hard thighs. He moved his hands to my shoulders, covering them in warmth, leaned down and kissed the side of my neck.
“Do you want to go for a ride?” he asked.
Less than ten minutes later, we were roaring down the road towards the shore. The delivery driver had gone pale upon seeing Carrick’s leather cut and had stood there twisting his hands together as he apologized for taking so long. Carrick had ignored him, bending to examine every inch of the bike for scratches and dents. To everyone’s relief, it was in perfect condition and Carrick simply thanked the driver and wheeled his pride and joy out onto the street, stroking the handlebars as if calming a nervous horse.
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