He chuckled but remained otherwise silent as he massaged my neck and shoulders. I’d never noticed how tense I had been, until Malachy rubbed the stress-induced knots away, along with all coherent thought, as my head lolled against the towel. It wasn’t sleep and it wasn’t meditation; it was simply a serene, lightweight presence of being that I’d never experienced before.
“Lean forward,” he instructed, breaking me from my trance.
“What?” I asked, surprised to find my voice groggy. “God, what did you do to me?”
“It’s called bein’ relaxed,” he teased with another chuckle. “Come on, sit up a bit.”
I complied, and his hands moved lower, rubbing his thumbs in circles along the column of my spine. I groaned involuntarily, tilting my head backward, and asked, “Where the hell did you learn to do this?”
“Ah, well, when me mother was ill, I was the only one there to take care of her most of the time,” he spoke, not purposely letting on that there was a hint of sadness in his tone, but I still caught it.
“God, Malachy … I’m so sorry,” I said, pulling my knees up and folding my arms over them.
“It’s okay. It’s life.”
I nodded and propped my chin on my forearms. “Yeah, but I’m still sorry.”
“I appreciate that,” he replied in a low voice, his thumbs continuing to work. “It wasn’t as though I enjoyed takin’ care of her. I don’t think many people like admittin’ that, but I’m gonna go ahead and say, I couldn’t stand it most days, and when she passed, there was an overwhelmin’ relief to it. I felt like the most selfish arsehole on the feckin’ planet to be thinkin’ like that. It made me feel glad that it was over—ya know, her life—until I realized it was really just her sufferin’ I was glad to be rid of, not her.”
The lump in my throat was overbearing and I swallowed relentlessly. “You were close?” I asked, my voice strangled by my burdening emotions.
“Aye. Even after I found out she’d lied me entire feckin’ life,” he said, and there was a bitter tone in the words. Like a kid holding a grudge with nobody to take it out on.
“Did you ever talk about it?” I asked, wincing as I braced myself for the reply.
“A bit,” he answered brusquely. “She told me after the guilt had eaten away at her for nearly thirty-five years.”
“God,” I exhaled, shaking my head. “I don’t even know how you respond to something like that.”
“Yeah,” he grumbled, stopping his hands abruptly. “Neither did I.”
I heard him move behind me. I licked my lips, wondering if I should apologize for mentioning anything. Understandably, the subject was touchy. I wasn’t sure if wounds that deep could ever heal over, and I was even less certain about how easily he could talk to anybody about it. Especially me, a near-stranger, and I felt guilty for bringing it up.
“I’m sorry,” I finally said, after several moments of listening to him shift around. “I didn’t have any right to ask.”
“Emma.” His hands were on my shoulders again, gently pulling me back to lay against the side of the tub. “It takes a lot more than a couple of questions to upset me.”
I turned to look up at him over my shoulder. His worry and stress creased the lines between his brows. “You look like you could use some relaxation too,” I said, reaching up to touch his fingers. “And this is a very big tub.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “So it would seem,” and in what seemed like slow motion, he stood up, pulling his long-sleeved t-shirt off as he went, and revealing a torso carved from hard muscle. His shoes were kicked off along with his socks, and his jeans were unzipped and dropped to the floor with his briefs. Naked, he stepped into the tub and I smiled as I began to move to give him space when he shook his head.
“I always find myself beside ya, Emma,” he said, lowering himself and leaning back against the opposite end. “I think I’d rather face ya for once.”
I nodded, pulling myself up to a seated position, exposing my breasts to his eyes for the first time. I expected him to drop his gaze, to notice every stretch mark and flaw, but his stare remained fixed on my face. Unwavering, unmoving. I swallowed, crawling over his legs to straddle my naked body over his.
“That’s better,” he said, and his hand reached for a washcloth at the side of the tub.
Dipping it in the water, he brought it to my face and wiped the forgotten smeared makeup away. For the first time in years, my face was bare in front of another person, and I braced myself.
“Hell, Emma Bryan,” Malachy croaked, dropping the washcloth back into the water before pressing both hands to my cheeks. “I’m in a whole mess of trouble here, aren’t I?”
“What do you mean?” I asked timidly, all at once aware of his chest pressed to mine and the ever-increasing girth of his erection between my legs.
“I didn’t think it’d ever be possible for one woman to be any more beautiful than the rest, but ya had to go ahead and prove me wrong,” he said, never allowing his gaze to leave mine. “I’m ruined now, ya realize.”
“Ruined?” I laughed nervously, smiling and trying so hard not to cry again. Once was enough, thank you very much.
“Yes, ruined!” he exclaimed dramatically with a laugh. “How the hell am I supposed to go back to me old life of bein’ a carefree bachelor when I’ve already seen the most beautiful woman in the world? Everybody else would just be a disappointment at this point.”
I giggled, dropping my forehead to his. “Malachy Shevlin, I thought you didn’t do relationships,” I said, as my heart encouraged me to move away and out of that tub. To drive him back to his father’s house, and never see him again.
“Who said anythin’ about relationships?” he asked, cocking a brow.
“You’re ruined for other women,” I pointed out, tipping my head and lowering my mouth to his. “What’s the point of resisting some semblance of commitment now?”
“Hm,” he grunted, brushing his lips over mine. “Maybe ya have a point,” and my mouth shushed him, my tongue plunging between his lips to dance with his, while I prepared my heart for what the rest of the night had in store.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN |
SEX & CUT HEELS
MALACHY
My hands slipped over her wet shoulders, back, and down to cup her arse as my smile broke the kiss.
“So, this is the kind of thing you always do?” She whispered as though she was afraid to scare away the moment.
“Ya mean take baths with women I meet on planes?” One side of my mouth quirked, lifting into sheepish half-smile. “I can assure ya, you’re the first.”
Groaning, she sat up. Her breasts, rounded and soapy, aimed directly toward me, but I kept my eyes on her face. Her lips. Her eyes. It was difficult to believe that she felt anything less than perfect, when her features were so fair and delicate.
“I meant, do you always woo the ladies with things that’ll make it impossible for them to refuse you, only to skip out on them while they’re asleep?”
Now I was thoroughly amused. “I think ya’d need to reconsider your recent decisions, if ya really believe me to be such a monster.”
She rolled her eyes playfully, sliding her hands over the hair on my chest. “I don’t really think that about you. I’m just … wondering if this is par for the course.”
“Ya wanna know if you’re special. Ya can say it,” I said, never taking my eyes off hers.
With first a shrug, and then a nod, she asked, “Well, am I?”
I sat up, my wet chest pressing against hers. My hands slid over her chilled back, before my fingers thrusted into her hair, and my mouth covered hers. I kissed her with a slow passion, delicately stroking her tongue with mine as if she were something I could break, and when I pulled away, she responded with a quiet moan.
“I’m doin’ somethin’ wrong if ya need to ask,” I answered hoarsely, running my fingers through her hair.
“No, I … I feel it,” she told me. “I just wanted to hear you s
ay it.”
She inhaled, her body quivered, and I realized she must’ve been getting cold. I brushed my lips against hers once more before sliding her from my lap and standing up to get out of the tub. Her widened eyes were less polite than mine, as they immediately fell to my exposed groin. I shook my head with a chuckle as I reached for a towel and wrapped it around my waist, before grabbing her robe and holding it open for her. With a smile that was suddenly shy, she stood up, revealing all of herself to me without any attempt to hide from my hungry eyes.
“Emma,” I said, as she stepped out of the bath and toward me, “if I haven’t said it enough, I need ya to know, you are so feckin’ beautiful.”
“Maybe if you say it enough, I’ll start to believe it,” she said with a reluctant smile.
She slid her arms into the plush sleeves, turning her back to me as I closed the robe around her, hugging her in my arms from behind.
“I’d never stop sayin’ it,” I whispered, my mouth against her ear. “I’d say it over and over again for ninety-nine years, if it meant that on the first day of the hundredth year, ya’d finally believe it. And I have never made any declaration like that to anybody before, nor will I ever again. So, when ya ask if you’re special, the answer is yes. Undoubtedly.”
She responded by turning in my arms and pressing her lips to mine. Her hands reached to lay against my cheeks as she stepped forward, kissing me slowly, softly. Leading me back toward her bedroom, where she broke away from the kiss and slid her arms out of the robe, letting it pool on the floor at her feet.
I waited, keeping my hands at my sides, letting her decide what every next step would be. Emma’s fingers fluttered toward the towel at my waist, her eyes on mine as she pulled at the fabric until it hung loosely from her hands. She let go, and it fell, dropping to the floor.
I felt that the right thing to do was to confirm, to be absolutely certain, that this was what she wanted. Because whatever happened between us, whatever passed through us, it wouldn’t change the outcome; I was still going to have to leave eventually. There was a real world outside of that bedroom, and sooner or later it would come calling.
But before I could speak, her lips were on mine, leaving my thoughts forgotten and my tongue tied. I kissed her, wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her down with me to her bed in a frenzied tangle of naked limbs.
The movies make these probable meant-to-be situations out to be so picturesque and pretty. I guess that’s what I expected, after the night I’d had with Emma. The show at the coffee shop. The kiss at the pub. The bath. Every event leading up to this should’ve ensured the most incredible sex I’d ever experienced in the twenty-three years since losing my virginity.
But, the movies aren’t real, are they?
With my body lying over hers, and a few involuntary thrusts of her hips and mine, I slowly slid into her more by accident than anything else. Both of us surprised, our gasps were muffled by our kiss, and then we sighed contentedly, tightening our arms around each other and moaning in unison.
Emma unlocked our lips and said, “I like being on top.”
I nodded. “Whatever ya want,” and I rolled onto my back, giving her the freedom to do as she wanted, or needed.
She kissed me again during the methodical, rapid thrusts of her hips against mine, and with little coaxing or help from me, she was sailing over the edge of climax. Moaning into my mouth, lacing her fingers together with mine, tightening around me in pulsating waves. The moment was electric and frantic, and without warning, I erupted with my own orgasm. Gripping her hips and holding her to me as it subsided, until clarity of mind told me what I’d forgotten and what I’d just done.
“Wow,” Emma breathed, brushing her hair from her face as she climbed from my lap and sat beside me on the bed. “God, I didn’t think that would happen so … fast.”
“Neither did I,” I admitted, laying a hand over my forehead and blinking at the ceiling. Remembering the one thing I never forgot. Ever. “Shite, I’m sorry. I’m more responsible than this.”
“What?” Her face turned abruptly to mine, hugging her knees to her chest.
I lowered my hand to my eyes, blocking myself from her stare. “Protection. I was too in the moment, I forgot, like a feckin’ eejit, and—”
Her hand wrapped around mine, prying it from my eyes. “Malachy,” she said with a smile as she leaned over to press her lips to mine, “don’t you think I would’ve stopped if it was a problem?”
“I believe ya would’ve,” I said with a nod, “but it’s never wise to just assume.”
She smiled and kissed me again as my eyelids grew heavy with the onset of relief and relaxation. Spent and exhausted, my body felt as though it were sinking into the mattress, and I groaned with heavy rest sitting over me.
“Do you want to get under the blanket?” she whispered, stroking a thumb over my cheek.
“Mm,” I said with a slight nod, but I made no attempt to move before I fell under the spell of sleep.
❧
I was awoken by a noise somewhere in the house, and I sat up abruptly, surprised to find myself under a blanket in Emma’s picture-perfect, sunlit bedroom. I looked next to me to find her, curled up against my body in what I realized was my t-shirt, and I smiled.
Another sound came from downstairs, and I pulled myself out of the bed, tiptoeing quietly to grab my jeans, folded on a chair. Emma must’ve laid them out before putting herself to bed, I thought, and I hastily pulled them on as I heard another disruption to the quiet.
I looked around for something to use as a weapon, settling on a folded-up camera tripod. I walked as quietly as I could, down the hall and down the stairs, wincing at every creak and groan from the floorboards beneath my feet.
A shadow cascaded through the living room, still a mess from the night before. I peered around toward the kitchen doorway, and saw the intruder, walking around the kitchen and searching through the cabinets.
Without hesitation, I lowered the tripod, leaning it against the back of the couch, and turned to head back upstairs when the girl whirled around on her heel and saw me. Her young features stretched into a face of shock, she dropped the bowl she was holding, and screamed just as the porcelain shattered on the floor.
“Hey, hey,” I whispered loudly, moving quickly into the kitchen. “Hailey, relax. We met, remember? I’m Malachy, with the dog? Padraig?”
My hands were outstretched like I was being arrested as I knelt to the floor to pick up the bits of broken porcelain before someone sliced their foot. Her breathing was coming in short gasps, and I looked up to her as I filled my palm with the shards.
“Darlin’, calm down,” I encouraged gently. “I’m sorry I scared ya.”
“W-why are you here?” she screeched, louder than I would’ve liked, and I winced. Her eyes dropped lower, and she added, “And where is your shirt?”
“I, ehm …” I looked down at my chest and then back to her apologetically. “I must’ve misplaced it somewhere. I was just visitin’ with your—”
“Ew! Oh my God,” she squealed with disgust, covering her face with her hands.
I realized I was struggling and in over my head. The girl had the ability to make me feel ashamed to be an adult, doing adult things, and I heaved a sigh as I stood up with the broken pieces in my hand. Assuming I’d picked them all up, I walked to the garbage bin. Something sharp sliced into my heel and I gritted my teeth around a growled, “Ah, ya fecker!”
Uncovering her face, Hailey gasped and clasped her hands as she took a step back. I looked to her with a healthy dose of irritation as I threw the broken bowl into the trash and sat down. I pulled my foot to rest over my knee to better assess the damage.
“O-oh,” she said at the sight of the blood. “Uh, hold on,” and with that, she was running out of the room. It took her only a few short moments to come back with a box displaying the universal cross printed onto its side. “Here.” She handed it to me, and I smiled gratefully.
&nb
sp; “Thanks,” I replied as I opened it up on the table, rifling through. “Hailey, ya think ya can fetch me a pair of tweezers?” She nodded and ran out of the room again. I heard her rummaging through a nearby cupboard, and then she was back with the tweezers. I nodded with another smile and set to work, digging the tiny sliver of ceramic from my heel.
“Are you okay?” she asked, fidgeting her hands against her chest.
“Ah, it’s nothin’,” I replied with a gritted grin as I yanked the little bastard out. “See?” I held it up, the jagged piece of white glinting in the sun. “I don’t think I’m gonna lose me foot this time.”
Her faint smile lasted all of second before it faded. “I’m really sorry,” she said as she watched me clean the wound with a bit of rubbing alcohol and gauze.
“No need to be sorry,” I assured her, squeezing out a bit of antibacterial ointment and placing a bandage over the tiny cut. “There. Now,” I said, standing up, “do ya wanna go get your mother, or should I?”
“I didn’t mean to make any noise,” she explained, completely ignoring me as she took a seat at the table, and I sat back down. “I got into a fight with my dad, so I walked here to get ready for school.”
I glanced at the wall clock above the refrigerator. It was 6AM. “Ya came alone?”
She nodded. “I snuck out.”
It wasn’t my place. I should’ve woken her mother up, and had her handle the situation, but I remembered the way Emma had cried the night before. How she so badly needed to rest.
I winced, squinting my eyes. “Hailey, your father’s probably wonderin’ where ya went.”
“My dad doesn’t care about anything,” she responded bitterly.
“I’m sure it feels like that, but I’ll bet ya he does,” I reasoned with her.
“You can’t make me leave,” she spat at me, immediately going on the attack. “I barely even know you.”
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