by Tessa Layne
“Christ, mo chroí. You’re nothing but gorgeous when you come apart for me,” he whispers, teasing me with his cock. Making me shudder with each slow sensuous slide against my sensitive nub. “Can you do it again for me? Let me feel you squeeze me? Come on me cock this time?” His lips trail along my jaw to my mouth, hovering just a breath away from mine. His brogue more pronounced.
“Yes,” I moan, rocking my hips with his. “Please”—I palm his ass, pulling him closer—“make me see stars again.”
“Again?” He chuckles, as he pulls back only to enter me in one slow delicious thrust, pausing when he’s fully seated. The coarse hair of his thighs tickling mine. His balls snug against my ass, the lace of my bra scraping my sensitive nipples. His breath becomes my own.
“Again,” I plead, “and again. And again.” The words tumble from my mouth, our lips brushing with each syllable as he moves and thrusts tortuously, slowly above me, inside me, consuming me. Setting each of my senses on fire until I’m a whimpering, moaning mess.
Finn whispers sweetly in Gaelic and we fall off the cliff and into each other. I drift off to sleep wrapped up in the last man I ever thought I’d fall for.
I shiver, chilled by the cool air in the room, naked and utterly alone. No shower sounds. Nothing, but silence. Shoving myself up, I’m greeted by the crinkling of paper.
Addie-
Out for a bit of a stroll. You looked far too spent, so I didn’t wake you to join me. I’ll be back in time to meet your mum and da.
Xoxo-Finn.
Disappointment washes over me as I stare at his stupidly perfect handwriting. I shouldn’t feel like anything is wrong. I know he loves me, but something just feels off. Normally, he lies with me, caressing my back, running a soft finger over the swell of my breast, untwining my hair from its braid until I emerge from the foggy cocoon of blissful orgasmic sleep.
We have a system. It works. It’s dependable, and with him scurrying out while I was asleep, I just feel all kinds of off kilter. Anxiety creeps in, the need to ground myself threatens to overwhelm me, so I jump in the shower and get ready for the dreaded dinner with my parents. Then I kill the rest of the afternoon, trying desperately not to worry about the weirdness. The odd feelings. The random phone call Finn got in the airport and the way it looked like he was getting all kinds of turned on scrolling through pictures on his phone before ducking around the corner to return a call.
Surely, he’s not straying? Cheating on me? Maybe I’ve had things all wrong, and while I’ve been busy falling in love, he’s been checking out his other options. I swipe my phone’s screen and text my best friend Bri. If anyone can help me sort out my shit, it’s…well, usually it’s Finn, but I think I need a girl’s brain for this one.
Me: Are you at work or can you talk?
Bri: Hey! Are you in town yet?
Me: Yep…at the hotel.
Bri: Mmhmm…brown chicken, brown cow with your man?
Me: Stop, I’m serious. I need to know if my crazy is taking over…
Chapter 3
F inn
Excitement barely contained, I ride the trolley up into the Power & Light district to meet with the jeweler and finally see Addie’s ring in person. It doesn’t take long to get there, but I can’t seem to be still for even a moment of the ride. Needing a quick distraction, I check in with Gavin Keller, the lead guitarist of The UnBroken. They’re one of the featured bands on the main stage of the music festival, and I still can’t get over the fact that he’s my mate. Thank Christ, he’s a good man willing to help me with the only extravagant portion of my proposal.
There is no one in the world I’d rather spend my life with than the quirky and colorful woman who made me the man I am today. I don’t even want to think about where—or what— I’d be without her. She’s taught me so much, shown me more than I ever thought and truly made a man out of me.
Gavin answers after the third ring. “Hey. You here? You got it on you?” he asks sounding almost as excited as I feel.
“On my way to pick it up now. I left Addie in the hotel room, sound asleep,” I tell him, knee bouncing. Fingers tapping a rhythm on the hard-plastic seat.
“Uh…” Gavin huffs out a laugh. “I don't think I need to know.”
I chuckle and ask, “You got the song, yeah? It’s all good?”
“Yeah, everything’s all set on my end.” He pauses, blowing out a breath. “Finn are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, I know you love her, I know you want to shout it from the fucking rooftops, but is this the right way to ask her to marry you? Addie, of all people, up on stage, in front of all those people? Dude, I can’t help but think it’s all gonna blow up in your face.” Concern bleeds through the phone, and maybe he’s not entirely wrong.
“It’s a bit of a gamble, yeah. But with everything else?” I rationalize my arse off. “All the other quiet details I’ve arranged for her, she’ll see that I have her needs at heart.” She will, right?
When the dust settles and her initial feelings of panic subside, she’ll see all that I’ve done, all that I’ve arranged. Every quiet detail of the small intimate ceremony I’ve planned for us in Ireland. She’s always said the flight was an issue for her, but she managed the flight here just fine and really, Dublin’s not that much farther. And I love nothing more than figuring out how to distract her from her fears. I’ll have to pay attention to the logistics of the loo on the plane on our return flight to New York at the end of the week, see if I can figure out how to make the mile-high thing work.
Gavin pulls me out of my head. “And what if she bolts? What if you freak her out? Or can’t even get her on stage?”
I can’t believe that’ll happen. “She won’t, it’ll be fine,” I say with much more confidence than I feel. If she runs, I’ll follow. To the end of the earth if that’s what it takes. Deep down in my gut, I know with certainty that she loves me, that she wants me. That she’ll agree to be my wife. “’Right, then. I’m at the jeweler, I’ll send you pictures of the ring. Thanks, Gav.”
Not waiting for a response, I end the call as I hop from the trolley. Dodging traffic, I cross the street and enter the jewelry store nestled in the corner of a small breezeway. The tiny courtyard separates the specialty shop from a 1920’s boutique hotel. Thank Christ, Addie didn’t want to stray from the accommodations provided by the festival promoters. I shove my hands in my pockets and tilt my head back, staring at all the windows facing this corner. Lovely as it would be to stay here, in the heart of things, I’d not be able to keep this foray from her. Hell, I’m shocked, as it is, that I’ve been able to keep all of this from her as it is.
Last summer when we were in town, Addie and her friend, Bri, pointed this place out to me and Bri’s man, Adam. Addie may have thought our relationship too new at the time, though I’ve been ready to pledge myself to her practically since the snowy wind blew her into McBride’s. So, when I decided to ask Addie to marry me, I knew with all my heart that a run-of-the-mill engagement ring would have no place in her world or on her hand. She needs something as unique and special as she is. Something beautiful and vibrant that captures the multitude of colors that make up Adelaide Huntington.
I pull open the glass door, the quiet chime announcing my entrance. Cool air engulfs me and a sing-song voice calls from the back room, “Be right out.”
“I’m fine,” I respond taking in the trays of glittering gems artfully arranged in the white wooden display cases. Obviously drawn to the more unique pieces, I shy away from the case of traditional engagements sets. A rattle and whir float from the workspace hidden behind a wall sporting a black and white mural of the city lit up at night. It’s not New York City, but this place is far more alive than I would have ever imagined a cowtown in the Midwest to be.
I settle myself into one of the plush chairs tucked away in the corner and scoop a glossy book up off the table between the seats. Flipping it open, I see some of the custom designs that Addie and Bri drooled over last year. This book
, these intricately beautiful designs are the ones that caught my love’s eye. This is what she talked about for weeks when we’d gotten home, sharing her excitement, not just with me, but with our friends at the pub. Lis had asked a million questions. Gracyn was quiet at the time, but since moving in with Gavin, her former spring break fling, she’s asked for the name of the store a handful of times—recently in Gavin’s company.
The rings are stunning, the craftsmanship absolutely breathtaking. But from what I saw in the sketches I got, and then the photos emailed this morning, nothing will compare to Addie’s ring. Just like no one compares to her.
I kill some more time, thumbing through the pages, lost in my thoughts yet again.
“You must be Mr. O’Meara,” a voice calls brusquely from behind me. I startle a bit, dropping the book in the process.
“I am,” I say, quickly scooping the catalog off the floor and standing. “And you’re Elyse.” I thrust my hand out in greeting only to be drawn into a bracing hug, an ooph escaping me.
“That’s me. You say we’ve met? I feel like I would have remembered a tall drink of ginger beer like you.” She steps back and rakes her gaze from my face and down my body, pausing awkwardly on its journey down my torso. I shift uncomfortably and shove my hands in my pockets. What the hell is it with married women? For fuck’s sake, she introduced us to her husband last summer.
“Ellie, darling, I’ve got that ring all polished… Oh, hey there. Calvin, nice to meet you—” the man introduces himself and pauses. Her husband. Black hair sprinkled with gray and in dire need of a haircut. Thick glasses, doing nothing to hide a slightly bewildered look to him.
“Finn O’Meara, sir. It’s a pleasure.” I shake his hand as he sidles up next to his wife.
“Ah, then this is for you,” he exclaims handing me a black velvet ring box and wrapping his arms around his fecking wife. For the love of God, I don’t understand how she can stand there with her man’s arms around her and eye fuck me like this.
I crack open the box revealing the ring of my dreams. As I move the box, the lights from the ceiling refract through the gem, changing the color of the stone. The simple platinum setting swirls around the perfectly round stone, dotted with three opals decreasing in size. I stare at it, tilting it in awe of the artistry, absolutely stunned silent. I couldn’t have asked for anything more perfect.
“Oh, and wait. Let me…well, where did I put”—Calvin pats his pockets and looks at the floor around him—“hang on.” He scurries back to the work room and the sounds of a somewhat frantic search filter out.
Elyse moves in close, brushing up against me. “What do you think?” she asks as I take a step back, putting some space between us as her husband pops back into the showroom.
“Got it! I’ve got it. Look at this.” He plucks the engagement ring from its velvet nest and slides it onto his pinkie snug up against an intricately engraved band. Simple in design, but breathtaking in its detail. “It was still in the cleaning solution, but what do you think? Really finishes the whole thing nicely, don’t you think?” Pride radiates from the man, and it’s well earned.
“May I?” I ask, sliding the stacked rings from his finger. The engravings are Celtic in design and three matching opals perfectly complement the ones on the main ring. “That is… It’s…” I clear my throat and try again, “Absolutely lovely. I … I don’t know what to say.” In part because I didn’t order this extra band. And as beautiful as it is, and as perfectly as it does complete the look of the thing, I did not plan for the additional cost. I set the rings in the box and reach for my wallet. Maybe I should be reaching for my phone to check my accounts. Call Gracyn who’s taken over the accounting for the pub to see where to pull additional funds from. “I, erm…”
Elyse’s hand lands on mine, and she says, “There’s nothing additional for the wedding band. Consider it our wedding gift to the both of you.” I still my nervous hands and look up at this quirky, odd couple who kind of give me the creeps.
“Thank ye,” I whisper and then clear my throat and say it again, but louder. “She’s going to love it, It’s absolutely grand.”
“Congratulations. To you both. We wish you a life filled with love, laughter and adventure,” Elyse says, suddenly quite serious.
“And with a little variety thrown in too,” adds Calvin with a wink. And I’m done. That’s it, I truly don’t know what to think about these two. While they are nothing short of geniuses as far as their craft is concerned, they are fucked.
“Erm, thank you. I appreciate it.” I need to go. I hand my credit card over to pay my balance and snap a quick picture of the rings before tucking the box safely into my pocket. With the credit slip signed, I thank them again and hustle out of the store.
I tap a quick message to Gavin and attach the picture. Just as I hit the SEND button, Elyse flies out of the door calling to me. Jesus, Mary and Joseph, help me in this the time of my need. Plastering a smile on my face, I turn to her.
“Your receipt. You forgot your receipt.” She saunters over to me, and in the shadow of the beautiful brick hotel, and on the bustling sidewalk in downtown Kansas City, the woman who just violated me with her gaze, and possibly propositioned me while selling me a custom engagement ring, slips my credit card receipt into my pocket. Of my shorts.
Chapter 4
A ddie
Bri calls me on her way home from work. She’s the perfect librarian; quiet and sweet, always in her head. And dating a drummer in a band. I guess it’s no different from me dating a super personable-boy, who feels the distinct need to talk to everyone all the time, when I would much rather …not.
Because of my lack of desire to people, my friendship with Bri is one of the few I’ve maintained since leaving Kansas City for college. I’m not a hermit or anything, I just prefer the straight forward, logicality of web design and programming. Add in the fact that I can set my own hours and work from anywhere—in my pajamas—and the whole thing is a big win. So, I can be social. I just generally choose not to. It’s a struggle for me.
“Hey Addie,” she bubbles excitedly. “I can’t wait to see you. What’re the plans?” Sounds of traffic and conversation swirl through the phone.
“Dude, you didn’t have to call me so quick, you could’ve waited until you were in your car.” She and her dad, and probably her boyfriend, Adam, all have this thing about security. Her ex is a little ‘intense.’
“Nope, I’m good. I’m taking back control and riding the light rail a couple of times a week.” Pride is evident in her voice, at least in what I can hear above the din of downtown at the end of a work day.
“That’s awesome.” It is. I mean, who wants to be so scared of their own shadow that they don’t take any chances. The things that a person would miss out on are staggering. I shake my head, knowing full well that I should listen to my own thoughts, take some risks. Ease up on my insecurities. Maybe.
“So, what’s going on? Why would your crazy be taking over?” Bri asks. I start to respond when she interrupts, “Hang on, let me get situated on the rail car.”
I take advantage of the lull and pop my earbuds in so I can work while we chat. I tend to do better expressing myself if at least half of my brain is otherwise occupied. I flip open my laptop and pull up one of the web design projects I’m working on, fingers flying and my mind settling into an undercurrent of rhythm.
“Okay, go. Talk to me.”
And just like that my hands still. My rhythm broken, my insecurities crashing over me like waves.
“I…” Lord, where do I even start?
“Close your eyes. Deep breath in and let it out. Relax, Addie, it’s just me.” Bri always has this grounding force on me.
Eyelids shut, I start again, “I don’t know if I’m imagining things. Reading into shit I see with Finn and letting it fester into something it’s not. Am I jumping too fast? Should I wait? Not ask him to marry me? Maybe he hasn’t asked, because he doesn’t want that with me.” The burn
of pesky tears threatens, and I try desperately to will them away.
Bri laughs lightly, “Let’s start with of course that boy wants you. He’s head over heels for you, so just let that silliness go. What do you think you’re blowing out of proportion?”
As quickly as I can, I tell her about the text in the airport, the weird way Finn excused himself and then alternated between staring at his phone and looking at me. How he blatantly adjusted his dick after looking at whatever was on his phone and stole into the restroom for far longer than necessary. And how none of that mattered to me when we got into our hotel room, though I keep that one to myself.
I try to stuff down the emotion, and really, as I list each of these offenses that were horrific when rattling around in the confines of my brain, now that I’ve said them out loud and given them space, they feel small. Weak. Nothing to worry about.
“Have you talked to him about it?”
I roll my eyes even though she can’t see me. “No,” I huff. “We were in public. Squished on the plane with all those people around, and then driving downtown—”
“And then he rocked your world,” she sing-songs. “Where is he now?”
“See? That’s the other thing”—I kick back from the desk in the corner and prop my feet up on the windowsill—“He took off after the rocking of my world. Left me a note and snuck out. It feels cheap. I feel cheap,” I correct. “Normally, he’s all over me. Wrapped around me and holding on for dear life, like I might be the one to sneak off and run. But it’s him. Have you ever woken up to a note?” I know she has, but that was totally different. Adam left her a damn note and brought her back flowers and breakfast and all of that amazing shit. It’s not the same at all.