The Final Hour (Dublin Nights Book 5)
Page 35
“Ah hem.”
We all turned at the sound of a woman clearing her throat. Well, too late for the bar-side surprise. Holly was standing behind us with a less than amused look on her face.
She had a black . . . something wrapped around her hips and a black triangle bikini top, with arms pinned to her chest. “And what are you all doing here?”
Sebastian stepped out of our line to try and pull her to him, but she held up a hand, stopping him in his tracks.
“Did someone die?” Holly asked.
“No,” Sebastian answered.
“Is Siobhan sick?”
He shook his head.
I fought an amused smile, not wanting my sister to reach over and smack it off my face. And believe me, she would.
“Are we in danger?” She looked around Sebastian to find our gazes before resetting her focus on her husband. “Because we better be in danger for you four to be here. I mean, we’re talking nuclear-launch-codes-stolen-by-a-madman kind of danger.” Holly’s tone wavered a bit in the middle while she’d tried to pull off angry, but she should have kept her sunglasses on because I could tell by her eyes she was dying to fling her arms around her husband’s neck and kiss him.
“Looks like we’re the only ones in danger,” Adam said while turning to the side to see Anna, Alessia, and Emilia now heading down the path our way.
The women stopped for a brief moment once they’d spotted us before resuming their journey. They were all in their bikinis and cover-ups. A stack of magazines in Anna’s arms—oh, wedding magazines for Emilia. Anna loved planning events.
When Emilia’s eyes met mine, I immediately knew I wasn’t in trouble. She wet her glossy lips and raked her brown eyes over my body in a sensual gaze that promised hours upon hours of wickedly delicious vacation sex.
She was dressed similarly to Holly, but in red, which I liked to consider her signature color. She looked absolutely breathtaking. And I wanted to rip off every scrap of fabric with my teeth.
I stole a look back at my sister to see her already making out with her husband, her tote bag forgotten on the pathway, her belongings carelessly spilled about.
Adam pulled his wife into his arms as soon as she reached him and gave her a sad puppy dog face, after which she broke into giggles. “We missed you,” he admitted, really hamming up his performance.
“He said you reminded him of a fly, Anna. One of those big ones y’all get on horses,” I said, pretending that Adam had actually said such a thing. But she smacked him in the chest after giving him a shocked look, and I laughed at my brother’s expense.
“Do you hate us for crashing the party?” I heard Cole ask Alessia before kissing her again.
“I mean, I’m only disappointed I lost the bet,” Emilia answered for the group. Her voice was husky, a tone I’d come to know meant she was about to rip my clothes off. I wrapped my arms around her waist and buried my face against her neck as if it was just us.
“Bet, huh?” I whispered into her ear. Ah, she was wearing the perfume I had bottled for her.
“Yeah, Emilia thought y’all would have been here by noon today.” Anna chuckled. “I was thinking more like last night. Alessia said by dinner.”
“And Holly?” Sebastian asked, letting out a slight groan that told me he had gone back to ravishing his wife. But he and my sister were behind me now and thank God it wasn’t Holly moaning. I fought off a shiver and fixed my eyes on my fiancée.
I brushed the hair off Emilia’s face and cupped her sun-kissed cheeks.
“Holly thought you’d never even let our plane take off out of Dublin.” Emilia shot me a wicked, sexy grin.
Kinky sex with an ocean view it is, then. When in Bora Bora, right?
“Yeah, well, Sebastian did try to bribe the pilot to say there was an issue with an engine and that the flight had to be grounded,” Cole announced.
“Yeah, I figured, so I paid the pilot even more,” Holly responded, and I could hear the smile in my sister’s voice.
“Well, this is going to be a problem,” Emilia said, bringing her arms over my shoulders and linking her wrists casually behind my neck. “We don’t have enough bedrooms for you boys. I hope you all got your own places.”
I lowered my hand and pinched her arse, which drew her closer to me. “I need to get you naked. Check to make sure you have tan lines and haven’t been bad.” I winked. “Otherwise, we might be trying out discipline sex tonight,” I said into her ear, remembering her story about sunbathing in the nude back in Italy.
“You better do a very thorough check,” she murmured, and her breath in my ear had my pulse skyrocketing and my cock going painfully stiff.
“Sorry, boys, but we have plans. Some hot former military guy is taking us sailing beneath the moonlight later,” Alessia announced.
I caught her turning away from Cole only to be yanked back into his arms in response to her attempt to get a rise out of him like she loved to do. Guess she liked angry sex, too.
“Woman,” Cole said gruffly, then scooped her into his arms and began carrying her toward the bungalows while she playfully squealed and laughed.
“Dinner and dancing later, everyone,” Alessia called out over Cole’s shoulder with a wave.
“Make that much, much later,” I said, eyes back on Emilia, my thoughts drifting to all of the naughty things I planned to do with my fiancée.
“I got pregnant with Braden in a setting like this,” Anna hollered at Alessia.
Now that The Alliance was practically a thing of the past, Cole and Alessia planned to ditch the birth control and start a family. And someday, hopefully not too far into the future, I’d see Emilia’s belly round with my child.
Before I knew it, we’d all split up for privacy. Ravenous for the women we loved.
“Strip,” I commanded while peeling off my black tee and untying the drawstring of my casual linen trousers. I kicked off my loafers and let the fabric fall to my feet.
Emilia walked backward toward the living room of the bungalow, slowly removing the red see-through wrap from her hips to reveal the tiny scarlet bikini. Her breasts spilled out of the top, and when she turned around and shimmied her hips, I gasped at the lack of material covering her perfect ass.
“Remind me again what happens if you discover I don’t have any tan lines?” She peeked back at me from over her shoulder, tossing me a seductive look. Her lips poised as if ready to take my cock in her mouth.
I shoved down my boxers and fisted my cock. “Woman,” I said with a laugh while stepping out of my boxers, “you don’t want to find out.”
I hurried toward her, and she surprised me by saying, “Maybe I do,” then let out an excited yelp and took off running toward the bedroom.
Ah, she wanted a chase.
Yeah, I could do this.
She jumped onto the bed in one quick movement, then bounced off in a flash, like the time she’d been hunting bad guys in the park back home, and I’d shown up on my bike for an assist. God, that felt like forever ago. Back then, I’d been tormented by my inability to have her, and now we were in Bora Bora. Engaged to be married.
Maybe fairy tales really did exist.
I caught up with her on the terrace overlooking our private pool—not giving a damn I was standing outside in the nude. I grasped her by the waist and spun her around, crushing her against my body.
“The only thing I want you wearing while we make love is your engagement ring and your perfume,” I said between hungry, heated kisses.
“Mm.” She teased her tongue between her white teeth. And then the little sneak escaped from my arms, bolted back into the bungalow, and tossed out from over her shoulder, “Well, you gotta catch me first.”
***
Continue for bonus scenes between Sebastian and Holly.
Bonus Scenes
Sebastian - October 2021
“You sure you’re okay?” my driver asked over his shoulder.
We’d been sitting in the driveway of my home for about fif
teen minutes. After the first five, he’d lowered the privacy glass, and we chatted about a lot of nothing as I sat in the back of the limo, a drink on my thigh, eyes cast on the charming home Holly had bought before we were together.
“I have a feeling I’ll be sleeping on the couch or worse shortly after I walk through the door,” I said in a low voice, thinking back to what happened two nights ago in Sicily.
In the midst of what felt like WWIII, I’d flung a man across the foyer of Emilia’s home, then lifted him by the shirt, and smashed an elbow into his face. It wasn’t like he didn’t deserve it. The arsehole worked for a man who bought and sold people like cattle and treated them even worse.
“My wife may not want me killing anyone, but that doesn’t mean this won’t hurt,” I’d seethed in anger, the violent part of my past willing the man to give me a reason to end his life.
“I have no problem killing him.” Roman had shot the guy twice in the chest in one fast move. “Maybe call your wife and get permission?”
I realized he hadn’t been kidding when his buddy Chris suggested, “Or ask forgiveness after?”
They had no idea what it was like to be married to a strong, stubborn Irish woman. I loved that woman more than anything in the world, and yet . . . I sputtered, “Yeah, okay,” as if someone else had spoken for me and accepted the gun Roman had provided.
So, so easily, too.
What kind of person did that make me? All the lives I’d taken in the past had been warranted, right?
I wasn’t . . . a bad man. No, Holly wouldn’t love that man.
But how could I walk through that door and face her after breaking my promise?
I gathered another large gulp of liquid courage and manned the feck up. “I’ll get my things,” I told my driver when he tried to help me.
“Good luck,” he said once we were both outside the house, the sky dark and bleak. Ominous and foreboding.
“Thanks, I’ll need it.” I sighed, then went inside to face the music. Happy to be home to see my wife and child but worried about the fallout.
I set my bag down and worked the top two buttons of my black dress shirt open as I searched for my family in the quiet house.
The light in the kitchen was on, and the sweet smell of something baking wafted to my nose.
I stopped inside the doorframe of the kitchen to find my beautiful wife standing at the counter wearing a pink apron, her hair in a messy bun. Her back was to me, and she was shaking her hips, most likely mouthing the words to a song playing from her mobile on the counter. The music was playing softly, which meant Siobhan was probably already asleep.
I crossed my arms, enjoying the sight of our messy kitchen while my wife danced around, oblivious to my presence. And then a thought struck me—the front door had been unlocked, it was nighttime, and I hadn’t been home.
What the hell was she thinking? I pushed myself away from the doorframe just as Holly turned to find me closing the space between us. She gasped and dropped the spatula covered in what looked like dough as I pulled her to me.
I licked her pouty lips clean of the evidence that she’d tasted her creation before putting it in the oven—something chocolatey.
She gripped my biceps when my tongue sought hers, and we shared an intense, chocolate-flavored kiss. And I knew once I laid the truth on her, I might not get another one anytime soon.
I moved the apron out of the way and dipped my hand between our bodies as she moaned and arched her back, drawing herself nearer. Slipping my hand into the waistband of her pink silk pajama bottoms, I spread my palm over her center, a thin piece of lace the only thing keeping me from fingering her.
I desperately needed to make love to Holly, but as long as I held on to my secret, how could I?
“Take me,” she cried into my mouth, and damn, did I ever want to.
I deepened our kiss and traced my index finger over the lace while using my free hand to unleash her dark locks from the bun. I grabbed hold of her hair and wrapped it around my fist, backing her up to the counter in the process.
I was sure whatever chocolate creation she was baking was tasty, but my wife was the only thing I wanted to eat.
“Where’s Siobhan?” I asked between kisses.
“Asleep,” she returned before I drew her chin up by gently yanking on her hair to gain better access to her delicious mouth.
I lightly bit her lip, then released her hair and sank to my knees to worship at the altar of my wife.
“Why was the door unlocked?”
“Because I knew you were on your way home.”
“Don’t do it again,” I ordered as she untied her apron and flung it to the floor in a hurry.
“Yes, sir,” she whispered in a sexy voice.
I removed her bottoms, my mouth trailing from her abdomen and down as I took them off.
Her nude-colored thong came off next.
“Oh, I like this coming-home greeting,” she cried when I licked her clit, my tongue dragging along her seam in one hard stroke from bottom to top.
Her short nails clawed at the sides of my head, holding me in place.
“Come for me, my love,” I said before taking her into my mouth again, delirious with the desire to pleasure her.
“Sebastian,” she rasped as if biting down on her back teeth when I sucked and licked, then thrust two fingers inside her and crooked one to hit the sensitive spot that made her wild.
“No, too soon.”
Fine with me. I could do this all day. Eat her pussy forever. My cock swelled, and I felt the tip becoming slick from precum. Heaven help me because I was going to blow a load going down on my gorgeous wife. This upcoming Christmas marked our second anniversary, and my desire for her only intensified—never weakened.
“Ohhhhhh.” She couldn’t stop the orgasm even if she wanted to, and I added more pressure, which had her grabbing hold of my shoulders and stifling a yell to prevent waking Siobhan.
When I knew she was fully satisfied, I slowly rose, and she surprised me by going in for a kiss. A deep, erotic one that’d keep me warm for the few nights I anticipated I’d be sleeping on the couch.
“Since when do you listen to country music?” I asked once our lips broke apart, just now noticing what sounded like American country. “Anna?”
“She’s got me hooked. Luke Bryan’s voice is heaven.” She went for her pajamas and pulled them on without her thong. Because, well, it was now dangling from my finger.
“Heaven, huh?” I closed one eye, and she laughed and snatched her thong from me.
“His music puts me in the mood.”
“Oh, really?” I folded my arms. “So, it was him that got you off just now, was it?” I teased, pretending to be jealous of some country music star. But if he really did get her horny, then country music would end up on my “Feck That” list where Luca Moreau ranked at number one. This Luke guy might be a close third, ranking beneath Holly’s arsehole high school boyfriend.
“No, only you get me off.” She smiled while opening the oven to check on whatever she was baking. “But music is romantic. And sexy. Don’t you think?” She closed the oven, still clutching her thong in one hand, then came around and stood before me.
My back to the counter, I set my hands on either side of me, observing this woman I loved, and realized I was avoiding telling her the truth by talking about country music.
“I killed a few people.” And . . . I just ripped the Band-Aid right the feck off.
Maybe that was too abrupt of an approach because she dropped her thong and backed up with a furrowed brow as if I’d suddenly become a threat.
I held both hands in front of me, half-expecting to see blood there. “They were all bad people, Holly,” I rushed out as her back hit the kitchen island. “And they could have easily hurt me or someone else if I didn’t shoot them.” God, that sounded pathetic. If I wasn’t able to convince myself, how would I convince her?
Her gaze fell to the floor and losing sight of her b
ig green eyes was a knife to the heart.
“If you can look me in the eyes and tell me you would have died if you hadn’t taken their lives, I’ll understand.”
I swallowed the hard knot in my throat. Fecking hell. I couldn’t do that.
The first guy had rounded the corner, and I popped off two headshots without a second thought. Surely, he’d been armed. When I squeezed my eyes closed to try and remember, though, I wasn’t sure.
Like riding a bike, Chris had said jokingly, and I’d hated to admit pulling that trigger had felt good. Chris and his teammates were military, though. Well, they used to be. I wasn’t so sure who they actually worked for now because I doubted their government knew about their clandestine trip to Emilia’s home.
I’m a fecking killer. I don’t deserve your forgiveness. My shoulders slumped, but I forced my gaze up to see if she was looking at me.
“It’s not about those men who died. I know they were all evil. You wouldn’t pull the trigger if they weren’t the worst of the worst.” She took two steps closer but kept herself out of arm’s reach. “I’m worried about what killing them will do to you. Deep down, I think it hurts you. Makes you feel as though you’re bad and destined for Hell.” Her eyes filled with tears. “And I love you so much that I can’t stand to see you in pain.” She swiped at a tear that escaped down her cheek, and that one tear nearly broke me. “I-I need space. A day or two. I’m just . . . hormonal. I’m weaning Siobhan off breastfeeding, and then you drop this bomb on me after going down on me, and—”
“I understand,” I said with a tight nod. But my stomach was knotted, and I wanted to hold her in my arms and not walk out that door.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice sounded hoarse like she was forcing the words out.
“Don’t. This is my fault.” I stiffened. “I was in the middle of what felt like a war,” I admitted. “Surrounded by gunfire, we were trying to help two people get to safety, but I think I could have taken them down without killing them. I’m so sorry.”
I turned and left her alone in the kitchen, said goodbye to my sweet baby sleeping in her bedroom, then grabbed my bag still by the door and left.