by V. Theia
She clung and buried her face in his chest. Pawing at his shirt as she trembled.
He hated her being afraid and this problem of theirs had just become all the more real.
For the last week, while she’d been hidden in his house, playing happy families together, reacquainting to each other’s needs again, it had felt like a page from a book. A dream come true and not altogether real. It was as if he’d forgotten the reason that had brought her to him again.
Knowing she’d been approached by a very dangerous man still put ice in his veins to realize how close he came to losing her and Misha.
“Danny?”
“Yeah, sweetheart?”
She shivered and inched closer, her fingers started wandering up the back of his shirt.
That was Danny’s first clue when his cock woke up with a jerk.
“Danny…?”
Her voice a little high pitched as she went up on her toes, gave him her wild eyes, the pupils blown up to almost black, and before he could say a word she smashed their mouths together, whimpering her little sounds into his lips.
Rumbling a startled laugh through his chest, he gripped the back of her head and Danny could swear his Aoife was trying to tell him something.
What with the way she was going at his pants, with two desperate hands, until she got the zipper and button undone and her hand slid inside to grasp him tightly.
Tight enough he saw pleasured stars popping behind his eyelids.
“I need you, please. Please, Danny.”
With fast, swift movements he hoisted her into his arms, dropping them both on his bed only after a fast climb of the stairs, then fighting to get their clothes out of the way, all the while she ate him alive with hot, impassioned kisses.
He shoved home in one mighty thrust, swallowing her cry.
She told him how good he felt.
How hard he was.
She clawed and moved her skinny hips until his eyes rolled into the back of his head, fighting for control so he didn’t lose himself inside her too quickly.
He slammed harder and impossibly deeper.
They kissed hot and heavy while he took her and when the pleasure overcame them both, she clasped him hard, soaking his cock as he too let go on a heated grunt.
Reluctant to have it finished, he continued to rock slowly inside her while his girl, sweet as could be, laughed and brushed kisses all over his face as she relaxed beneath him.
He was done for, he realized.
His Irish lass would always be the one.
His body knew it, his heart vowed it.
SEVENTEEN
“Luckily his pretty face makes up for his poor musicality.” – Aoife
Aoife wouldn’t have believed it had she not seen it with her own eyes.
She had to stifle a giggle, or she’d be on the floor laughing her arse off.
Around her, she watched people cringe, probably wishing they could put their fingers in their ears.
The man she loved so much and the same man who woke her early that Sunday morning with kisses on her neck, was up front in his church, accompanying the singing choir by playing his guitar.
He looked hot. Seriously, gorgeous in dark jeans, and a tight shirt with his jaw stubbled and his sandy hair swept in all directions and it was more than evident how much fun he was having strumming the strings.
But boy, did he stink.
Most every key was out of tune and though the choir increased their volume, much to Aoife’s amusement, the badly played guitar could still be heard.
It was a relief to know Danny Murphy wasn’t completely perfect in everything he did.
It was more surprising the choir weren’t singing a religious song. As it went on, she realized it was the Beatles “Here Comes the Sun.”
“Rock and roll songs?” She whispered to Cora sitting on her right holding a rambunctious Misha.
“Oh yes, that was Pastor Murphy’s idea years ago. The choir grew in leaps and bounds after that. He said a song doesn’t have to be about Jesus to have uplifting qualities.”
Aoife grinned to herself, love rushing through her.
That was typical Danny knowing how to reach people not in the traditional way.
As she went on watching him long after the choir finished singing, seeing how he interacted with every person who waited to talk to him long after his sermon ended. The smiles, the laughs, the hugs, the way he made them feel like they were the only person who existed, she knew he’d found his place in the world.
He was far from the Galway boy she grew up with.
Danny Murphy had found his purpose in this world and he was soaring so very high.
God. She was in love with a pastor.
She hadn’t fully recognized his job until now, seeing him in full pastor action talking to a packed church and how they loved him.
Would he have space for her? She wondered worriedly.
“He’s really changed our church, we barely had four attendees two years ago,” Cora filled in with a beaming smile.
It was obvious the old woman was devoted to her pastor.
“I can see that, he’s amazing.”
“Hello, Cora. Who’s your new friends?” She heard and turned to see a woman with hair redder than her own, and in a frizzy ball like she’d been shocked several hundred times. “You’re new.” She pointed out to Aoife with borderline nosy curiosity.
“Yes, I am.” Aoife said. She didn’t like nosy people, and not nosy old biddies who were looking snootily.
“Darlene, this is a friend of Pastor Murphy. Aoife and darling Misha. Aoife, meet Darlene, resident nosy parker and fruit cake runner up 1998 in the Christmas fete.”
Aoife swallowed her giggle at Cora’s sass. Did she mention already that she loved Danny’s housekeeper?
“You know I was robbed! You cheated by adding apricots.” Huffed Darlene, pointing a ring bearing finger.
She couldn’t tell yet if the pair were friends or cake enemies.
“Yeah, yeah. Cry into your pillow. It’s me who has the winners’ cup.”
Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to piss off Darlene, because she turned her beady eye on Aoife, giving her that up and down look like she was judging and found her lacking in every area.
“Friends of the pastor? We haven’t heard of you before and we’ve met a lot of pastor Murphy’s friends already.”
“Are you ladies grilling my girl?” The deep, gorgeous voice said from behind them, and that answered that she supposed, a warm glow coming from inside.
Danny’s hand landed on her shoulder and stayed there. Aoife moved closer to him as he plucked Misha from Cora, much to the little girl’s delight.
She really did have a crush on him. Aoife couldn’t blame her.
Her own heart was pitter-patter fast at his nearness.
“Your girl?” Darlene asked. “This is new, pastor Murphy.”
Oh, how she judged, Aoife thought and wanted to tell the old biddy to go suck on lemons…or worse, as Aoife of old would have done. She rounded her shoulders and smiled at the woman. She would have to expect this, if she wanted to have an out in the open relationship with him. She had to accept he didn’t only belong to her anymore.
“We’re old friends from Ireland.” She told her at the same time Danny answered. “Yes, my girl, Darlene. So you’ll be seeing a lot of Aoife and this beautiful princess. I hope you’ll make them both feel very welcome as I know you will, because Armado Springs residents are the friendliest people I know.”
Sneaky, manipulative pastor, she grinned, chewing on her lower lip. His fingers squeezed her shoulder and she reached up to cover his hand.
“Well, of course we will,” sniffed Darlene with forty percent less huffiness to her demeanor, even though she still gave Aoife the stink-eye.
She didn’t care.
The only person she cared about had her back with Russian mafia and overly nosy church ladies.
More people joined the circle, questioning Ao
ife like they were interviewing her.
“How did I do?” She asked Cora once they were back in the house. “I thought for a second they were going to ask to see my dental records.”
Cora laughed switching on the boiler for tea. “They’re protective of the pastor. And it is the first time we’ve seen him with a girlfriend.”
Girlfriend. She didn’t want to correct Cora, mainly because she wanted to believe it more than anything.
“I think that went well. Though we should have probably waited to introduce you until…” Until she wasn’t wanted by the Russian mobsters.
She’d only intended to sneak into the church to watch him do his thing, but she’d gotten caught up in his bad guitar playing.
Danny kissed her forehead and grabbed a cookie on the plate Cora was filling.
“Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to let them think I was…yours. They’ll have questions once I leave.”
“You’re leaving?” Frowned the older woman. The pair had bonded quickly, and Aoife knew she loved Misha. Most every day she brought clothes and toys for her.
She didn’t have time to let her know that this was Danny’s intent all along because he piped in. “Not any time soon, Cora.” His heat down her back from him standing so near almost burned and she found it hard to breathe.
She wanted to stay so badly.
“We’ll be in the other room,” he grabbed Aoife’s hand and practically dragged her behind him into the living room.
“Why did you tell her that? You know you want me sent back home.”
“Is that what you want?” Eyes so blue caused her heart to riot.
“You know it isn’t. I don’t have much choice if you toss me out the door.”
He laughed. That tall drink of water laughed and pulled her into his body, to which she vined her arms around him like a snake unwilling to ever let him go.
“You talk a lot of old shite sometimes, Aoife.”
She huffed and glared up at him. Of all the cheek. Beautiful, cocky man.
Brushing her hair back from her face, he leaned down and brought his lips with him, kissing her lightly. “You know as well as I do that I’m keeping you. So you just get used to that, Aoife Flanagan, because I won’t be saying it again.”
Lightheaded, she couldn’t stop her smile from growing. “Kiss me again and make me believe it.” She practically scaled him like a ladder until she was wrapped around Danny and her hands were buried in his thick hair, using it to direct his mouth back to hers.
“Quit sucking my tongue,” he growled, lips to lips. “Or I’ll fuck you until you’re a whimpering little mess and my housekeeper is right next door.”
“Then stop putting it in my mouth.”
Fate stepped into the room and brought good luck with it because even as she reached for his grabbing mouth, they heard the closing of the front door.
They were alone.
And Danny attacked her, giving her the feel of his hardness digging into her belly with his lust.
Their harsh inhales and exhales were all that could be heard as he carried her through the house.
“Only you, Danny.” She whispered, with a desperate plea in her tone. She clung both hands to the back of his neck and when his eyes flipped open they were dark and filled with emotion. “Say you believe me.”
“That doesn’t matter, sweetheart.”
Her heart sank because it did matter.
She slid herself down to the floor.
“I love you,” she whispered. “I’ve always loved you, Danny. Not a moment when I didn’t.”
Love was enough. She insisted, giving herself a few paces between them so she could breathe.
Love had to be enough if he didn’t trust her.
EIGHTEEN
“She makes me lose my senses and God forgive me, I love it.” - Danny
She followed him out of the room once she had herself under control.
Her bare, silent feet took her across the kitchen until she was flush against Danny’s back.
She felt him tense when her hands, with minds of their own, slid around his waist to rest on his hard belly.
God, she’d missed having the right to touch him like this.
Knowing his body belonged to hers, to do with what she wanted.
She loved the idea of having unfettered access to his body once more as his girlfriend, without having to wait to see if he came to her bed of a night as he had been doing.
Would she ever forgive herself for having this beautiful boy and throwing him away? Breaking her own soul in the process. She couldn’t keep living as only a half of a person, he needed to let her fix it.
Missing Danny never stopped.
Some days in the past she was driven mad with memories running rampant through her mind no matter how busy she tried to keep herself, there he was, dominating her whole life just as he once had her body.
To hear his dark, naughty laugh in her ear while she giggled on his lap and stole kisses.
So many kisses until their lips were numb.
“I’ve missed you, Danny. Have you missed me at all?”
“Aoife….” He said hoarsely, without turning around…the sound was torture and pleasure. She felt his muscles shift under her hands as she held him tighter, pressing kisses to his spine and his hands tightened on the counter. “Many times I thought I was only half living I missed you that much. I’ve waited for you to walk through my door and take my heart back. And here you are.”
Her heart soared. “So much missing. Let me show you.”
Earlier, when he’d reached across the table while they silently ate breakfast together and tucked her wild hair behind her ear, she thought she might die right there in her jam toast.
She wasn’t misinterpreting his small touches, but he still held back.
Every time she glanced over at Danny he was already looking at her.
It was enough to have her belly in a tailspin.
He said he wanted to keep her. Calling Aoife his girl.
But then he held off from giving her all of him.
She was fighting against the current.
“Can I, Danny?” Kisses dropped to his spine, she felt how his rib cage expanded before he cursed and spun around, grabbing her by the waist he took her feet from the floor with a whoosh and deposited her on top of the table.
Her every nerve ending fired alive, becoming overly sensitive when he wrenched her legs apart, stepping into the breach, using his hands he dragged her by the behind to the edge of the table.
Aoife moaned and clasped his forearms, watching how dark the blue of his eyes turned. She drowned in that intoxicating gaze, and the intensity of his love fired her erratic pulse into a gallop.
There’s nothing she wouldn’t do for him.
She’d hand him her soul if it meant she had him back again.
Only when he used a hand to flatten her spine to the table and then his body covered hers, did she feel like it was her Danny Murphy.
But she was greedy and ached for all the moments in between too.
His head fell forward on his thick neck, gifting her his moonlit eyes, exposing the sensitive tendon that runs from his ear to his shoulder.
“Can you what? Own me again? Make my body burn to take what used to be mine?”
“Is yours,” she rushed out. “My body is yours, now and always.”
“Are we writing the husband and father of your baby out of the story, Aoife?”
Pain stabbed her in the chest at the growled accusation, but she refused to let him build a brick wall between them. She reached for his face and was surprised he didn’t pull back; his breathing became fast and shallow.
Drawing her thumb over his lower lip she brought her face to his.
“You, Danny-boy, with all your stupid sexy good looks to drive a woman mental, have always owned my body. No one else exists for me—then, now or ever. I’m a one pastor woman.”
The truth as plain as she could put it with a teasing smil
e, and he chuffed a sort of noise she was going to claim was a laugh.
She’d been on edge ever since she’d escaped the clutches of a crazy Russian but most of her tension had nothing to do with the looming danger that followed her. Maybe it should. Maybe she shouldn’t be more focused on her love life rather than the mess she was in.
She was such a movie female cliché.
But then if a woman in a movie had Danny Murphy striding around them in just sweatpants or his damn running shorts and his teasing manly scent, they’d be more focused on hard abs than they were of the killer.
“You have no idea.”
“About what?” She panted biting on his lower lip.
“You’ve been a constant in my brain, Aoife. Unforgettable. Every time I’ve laughed I’ve wanted to call you and share the joke.”
The longing looks, and intense brush of his fingers all played a part in her patience being shot to hell.
“I know he’s there, Danny,” she whispered, brushing the tip of her nose along his. She listened to his heavy breathing and his fingers dug hard into her hip bones. The pleasure-pain rushed wetness between her legs, and she widened them, so she was pressed fully into his belly. Just a thin barrier of her leggings and his pants separated them.
“Who?” He rasped, head dropped, eyes like sharp bullets.
She was so turned on, she wanted to purr.
“The Danny I know who likes to take control of me. The one who is shaking beneath your skin. The Danny who used to slam me up against a brick wall and rip my underwear off because he just couldn’t wait to get me home.”
“Aoife…don’t say that. Don’t think it. Don’t want it from me.” His voice was thick and almost strangely pained when he whispered her name. The sound of it vibrated right down to her curling toes.
He made her feel so good.
There he is, she thought. Lurking behind his grown-up responsible face.
If she could get him to lose his steadfast control that stopped him from giving her his all, then maybe he’d let them have their chance.
She held hope like she was on a life raft in the middle of the ocean.
When she’d made the snap decision to head to Danny’s church for refuge on that snowy night, she carried no expectations other than finding shelter and maybe a welcoming face away from the horror she’d left behind.