Forever Dublin (Forever #2)

by Brittney Sahin

  And a man like that could never be with someone like Anna.

  “Do you have something else you want to say?” My hands balled at my sides as I bit my lip, fighting the urge to knock Tommy out.

  “No, but I’m gonna enjoy watching you get your arse kicked. Then, I’m gonna take care of Les. And after, I’ll have another visit with Anna.” He sniggered. “She’s feckin’ hot. I just want to—”

  I lunged at Tommy, grabbing his shirt like I had that night outside the apartment, my fist pulled back taut.

  But I stopped myself at the sight of a grin spreading across his face, which told me this was what he wanted. He was trying to get a rise out of me. Did Donovan send him here to bait me? To get me steamed before the fight so I would win? Because Donovan might be a disgusting piece of shite, but he was a man of his word. And he wanted me to fight in November, which meant he needed me to win tonight.

  “You’re not fucking worth it.” I let him go. “For now.” I grabbed my hoodie from the ground and brushed past him and stopped behind the thick band of people crowded around the ring.

  I nodded to the announcer, giving him the greenlight that I was ready.

  When I heard the sound of my name from his lips, the crowd roared and cheered, electrifying me. I jogged in place for a few seconds, then bounced on my feet as I moved, the audience parting for me as if I was Moses and they were the Red Sea. Some began chanting my name, but their words became white noise as the Octagon rose up in my view.

  I tucked my music and earbuds into one pocket of my sweats and grabbed my mouth guard from the other. I shoved my sweats down and stepped out of them, tossing them and my hoodie to a stool outside the ring.

  I was down to my fitted boxing shorts and nothing else. I entered the Octagon, moving like there was fire beneath my feet. My body became less tense as I snapped out practice punches and hooks.

  I stopped moving when I saw my opponent climb the stairs and enter the ring. Dark hair and even darker gleaming eyes stared back at me. What kind of game was Donovan playing? My fingertips buried into my palms as memories hurdled back to my mind.

  It isn’t him. It can’t be Owen. Get your shit together—Donovan’s just fucking with you.

  He was younger. Twenty-five, maybe. Not quite as tall as me. Maybe five eleven. He looked strong enough to go against me. Muscular. Fit. But he wouldn’t be able to take my left. No one could take my left hook.

  I barely heard the ref talking, or the sounds of the audience as I caught sight of Donovan outside the ring. His thugs flanked him on each side, and he tipped his chin up and flashed me a smile. Fucking arse.

  I conjured images of Tommy. Of Frankie hitting Les. Anything to fuel my anger, to help me get through this.

  When the ref finished talking, my opponent came blasting at me like a gunshot to the head.

  ***

  “Congratulations, mate. But hell, you could have made it a little more entertaining.” Donovan’s eyes twitched with amusement.

  I was standing outside in the parking lot in front of Donovan’s Benz. He was leaning against it, looking smug, and I wished it had been him in the ring earlier, not the poor sap who’d gone down in less than two minutes.

  I swiped at the little bit of dried blood at my brow. He got in one good shot at my temple, but it was the only shot. Tonight proved one thing: I’d remembered how to fight. It was like riding a bike. A twisted, sick bike.

  “You’re still undefeated,” Donovan said with almost an air of pride, and it bugged me. “Which is a damn good thing.”

  “Why’d you chose him? He looked just like . . .” I couldn’t say his name. I couldn’t do it.

  Donovan waved his hand dismissively. “Coincidence.”

  Yeah, sure. With Donovan there was no such thing.

  “The guillotine move was very unlike you.”

  Yeah, well, I was too afraid to throw the left hook, and I knew the guillotine would make him tap out. The fight had been a mind trip, yet I was more pumped up than ever. The adrenaline still soared through me, even twenty minutes later. It was how I used to feel after all my fights—energized, ready for more. Ready to run a marathon or have sex all damn night.

  I always got high off the feeling of a win, and I’d always kept chasing the high. Until the day I had to stop. I wanted to hate that my body was more alive now than it had been in years. It was so Goddamn wrong to feel like this.

  “You loved it, didn’t you?” Donovan laughed and opened the door to his Benz. “Felt good to hit again—I can see it in your eyes.” He slid onto the cream leather interior and grasped the wheel. “Welcome back.”

  Donovan tore out of the parking lot, dirt kicking up behind the wheels. People began to exit the building, and I rushed over to my Porsche. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I didn’t want to play fifty questions about where I’d been the last five years.

  I started up my car and reached into the glovebox for my phone.

  Three missed calls from Anna. She’d called almost an hour before I’d entered the Octagon. But why?

  Using the blue tooth connection through my dashboard, I called her back as I drove, heading for her hotel, which was less than five minutes away.

  I tried twice more and got her voicemail each time.

  “Damn.” I pushed the pedal, increasing the speed, worry pumping through my already charged body.

  I didn’t have time to deal with parking in Dublin on a Saturday night. I pulled up to valet and darted into the hotel, hoping that she was there, that everything was okay.

  Why hadn’t she left a message, though? If it had been an emergency, she would have left a message, right?

  My fist hammered her door.

  No answer.

  What the hell?

  “Anna?” I called out and pounded the door again.

  I dug into my sweats for my phone, ready to dial her when I heard the rattling of a chain.

  She was inside. Thank God.

  The door opened, and Anna stood in front of me with narrowed, sleepy eyes. I had woken her up. But she looked okay. Hell, she looked more than okay.

  And she was in one of her tiny nightshirts again.

  “Adam? Wh—what are you doing here?” Anna’s voice was low, raspy, and sexy as fuck. Her sleepy voice was about the hottest thing I’d ever heard.

  I brushed past her, entering the suite without permission, and spun around. She shut the door and faced me, her eyes widening as her mind woke. “What are you doing?”

  “You called me three times, Anna. Then, when I called you back, you didn’t answer. Are you all right?”

  Her soft, full lips parted as she stared at me.

  “Anna?”

  Her arms crossed her chest, and I was pretty sure she had realized she was braless. I had done my best not to notice the full swell of her breasts beneath the thin cotton material, or her hard, raised nipples.

  “I’m still trying to figure out if you’re real or not.” She released a small laugh.

  If she was laughing, she had to be okay. My pulse started to slow, and I stalked toward her minibar.

  “Did you come from the gym?”

  I forgot I was still dressed in sweats and a hoodie. “Yeah.” I grabbed a beer.

  “Hey! That stuff isn’t cheap.”

  I popped the top and looked over at her, trying not to laugh. “I’ve got the bill, love. No worries.” I guzzled the beer, trying to relax. But it’d been an intense night. “So—why didn’t you answer when I called you? I was worried.”

  “My phone is on vibrate. I was sleeping.” She wet her lips, tucking her bottom one between her teeth, and I wondered if she had any idea how sexy she looked right now with no make-up and her hair flowing free over her shoulders. Her long legs and perfect curves . . .

  Jesus, I was strung tight—wound from the fight. The blood was rushing through me, and all I could think about was taking Anna in my arms.

  I lowered the bottle to the counter and dropped my hands to my sides.
“You going to tell me why you called?”

  “I, um . . .” She took a step closer until there was barely any distance between us. She smelled like flowers and soap.

  She reached up, her fingertips brushing across my forehead, and I forced myself not to snap at her wrist and drag her arm away. Still, I couldn’t help but flinch at her soft touch on my hot skin.

  “What happened to you?”

  I swallowed and stepped back.

  A chill must have moved over her because her nipples strained against the fabric of her nightshirt.

  I turned around, unable to stop from going stiff. Did she have any idea exactly how beautiful she was?

  “Adam?”

  “What?” I grumbled, crushing my palms to my face, hoping to kill my arousal and calm my nerves. My hands dropped as I faced her in one quick move.

  She inhaled sharply and took a step back. Had I scared her? “What happened to you tonight?”

  We were playing a game of avoidance, apparently. “I’ll tell you if you tell me why you called,” I lied, feeling like a teenager.

  “I was out with some coworkers and drunk dialed you,” she said after a moment of silence. “So, what happened to you?”

  “I had an unfortunate accident with the door at my gym.”

  “Why are you lying?” She narrowed her eyes.

  I shook my head. “And why are you?”

  She took another step back, bumping into the sofa in the living room of the suite. “I’m not.”

  “Sure.” I walked past her, preparing myself to leave. I couldn’t be in the hotel room with her. I needed to fuck. I needed to use someone, to come down from the high of a fight. Bloody or bruised, it had never mattered. That’s just what I did.

  And there was no way I would use Anna, no matter how much I wanted her.

  “Adam, wait.” I stopped in front of the door and pressed my palms to it, lowering my forehead.

  “What’s going on? Is this about those guys who came to Les’s?”

  I couldn’t say anything. I didn’t know what to say. She didn’t need to know the truth. It was too late for the truth.

  I’d fought. I’d won. And I’d do it again in two weeks.

  And I would like it. No matter how much I shouldn’t.

  I was screwed. Eternal damnation beckoned me.

  “Please.” Her hand was on my back.

  “Why’d you really call?” I didn’t want her to see this side of me. She didn’t need to see the dark, broken me.

  “Because . . .”

  Her hand slipped from my back as I faced her. I touched her chin, tipping her face up so I could look into her large, green eyes.

  “I work for you, Adam.” Her lower lip quivered a little—almost unnoticeable, but I noticed it. How could I not? “But, I—”

  My restraint snapped, and my mouth came down over hers, stealing her words. Both my hands went to her cheeks, holding her face as I deepened the kiss—and she responded. Her tongue was in my mouth, finding mine.

  She moaned against my lips, and I pulled her against me, my back to the wall. I clutched her body, my hands slipping beneath the fabric of her nightshirt. I grabbed hold of her arse, moving my fingers under her silk knickers, burying my fingertips into her flesh.

  She tipped her head back, her lips breaking from mine, her eyes shutting as I squeezed her flesh harder. My lips found her neck, and I kissed there, too. I wanted to kiss her everywhere. Her skin was like vanilla. Or maybe honey.

  Shit, she was too sweet.

  I couldn’t do this.

  Stop! My mouth left her neck and my spine straightened. I raised my hands between us as if on guard.

  She stumbled back, breathless, her chest heaving as she tried to make sense of what had happened.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her cheeks red, a glow to her skin. She ran her fingers through her hair and chewed on her lip as she turned away from me. Embarrassed.

  “Are ya kidding? You don’t owe me any apology. I crossed the line.” I pressed my hand to my chest, even though she couldn’t see me. “I did it. Not you.”

  “No, it’s my fault. I’m the one worried about what people will think. Afraid they’ll get the wrong idea. And yet . . .”

  “What?” I came around in front of her, needing to see her face.

  She lowered her eyes to the floor, protecting herself. “I don’t know. From the moment I met you, there was just something—”

  “Between us,” I finished, not meaning to say the words aloud.

  “And even if I wasn’t working at your company,” she looked up at me, her eyes a darker shade of green, “I shouldn’t be with anyone. I don’t want anything serious with a guy.” She laughed a little. “Not that you’d want something serious with me, but I—”

  I couldn’t help myself. I did it again.

  I practically barreled at her full force, my paw of a hand roping around the back of her neck, pulling her to me. She lost her footing and landed against me, her hands on my chest. Her soft lips came to mine, pliable and open, ready for the taking.

  My hard on pressed against her stomach. The woman was pushing me to the brink of control, my body tensing as the blood rushed south.

  “Jesus, Anna,” I whispered after breaking our kiss and backing up.

  Her eyes wandered down to my sweats, where my erection was obvious. “I should go.”

  I couldn’t use her. I couldn’t do it.

  “Adam?”

  My back was to her now. “Aye?”

  “Can we forget this ever happened?” Her voice was low.

  I opened the door and stole one last look at her over my shoulder. “We can pretend it never happened . . . but I won’t forget.”

  Thirteen

  Anna

  “More coffee?”

  Rick was standing before me with a steaming hot mug of liquid fuel. “Yes. Thank God.” I grabbed the mug from him, my eyes drawn to the capital blue letters scrolled across its face. “McGregor,” it read.

  “How’d you get on?” Rick settled in next to me at the conference table.

  I had learned by now that this was lingo for: “What’s the news?”

  I set the mug down and stared at the table in front of us, which was covered in mock-ups of the ads we had created. “John said he’d stop by after lunch.” Since we had nailed our marketing pitch on Friday, we now needed to smooth out the details. We’d be presenting to upper management next. Fortunately, I had learned that upper management was not Adam. No, there were many more layers between Adam and me, which was probably a good thing.

  I wondered where Adam was—I hadn’t seen his Porsche or bike in the parking lot.

  My fingertips brushed over my lips at the memory of his kiss. How had I let that happen?

  I wished I had never panicked and called him. Once I had calmed down that night, I realized he would have probably swooped me out of the hotel and put me somewhere else, or even send me back home if he thought I was still in danger. It was most likely a coincidence that the guy from the apartment had been at the bar.

  Although I couldn’t regret that Adam had shown up at my hotel door. That kiss . . .

  “You okay, love?” Rick’s hand was on my forearm, and I stared down at it.

  “I—” My words remained stuck in my throat when I glanced up and spotted Adam. He was walking by the conference room, sunglasses perched on his nose like a rock star. Why was he wearing sunglasses inside? Was this another Irish thing?

  He looked over his shoulder, right at me, as he walked past. No wave. No nod. Nothing.

  Then he was gone.

  Seeing Adam rankled my nerves. I retracted my arm from Rick’s touch and pushed back in my chair. “Rick?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I need to go do something. I just need five minutes.”

  “Sure.” He pulled the laptop closer to him and began checking his email.

  Rick and I didn’t normally work on the top floor, which was the same floor as Adam’
s office, but all the other conference rooms had been booked, and we had needed a large space to spread out our layout boards, photos, and index cards. Our cubicles were like Japanese micro hotels—only large enough to accommodate a computer desk and a chair.

  I left the conference room and walked down the hall, making a beeline straight for Adam’s office. I needed to hurry before I lost my nerve.

  In the doorway, I paused. Adam’s back was to me, but his head was bowed and angled toward the woman who stood before him, speaking in a low voice. I couldn’t help but notice her hand was on his arm, wrapped over the fabric of his crisp white dress shirt.

  She was gorgeous: tall and slender with long, dark hair. She stopped speaking when her light green eyes met mine.

  I stepped back as a rush of heat gathered in my cheeks. I started to turn, but the woman waved her hand my direction. “Can we help you?”

  I lowered my gaze to the floor. My desire to see Adam was completely quelled.

  “Anna?” Adam approached me. His shades were clasped in his hand and a dark band of bluish purple spread beneath the eye that had a cut above it. “Anna, this is my sister, Holly.”

  Sister? Sister!

  “Oh, wow. How nice to meet you.”

  “Holly was just leaving.” His eyes pinned to his sister.

  Her lips were in a tight, straight line. She released a deep breath, her eyes meeting mine. “Hello, Anna.” She tipped her head at me and walked past without another word.

  Adam moved to the couch in his office and sat down. “You mind closing the door?”

  “Oh. Um—with or without me inside?” I asked softly.

  This produced a soft chuckle from him. “You can stay.”

  I kind of hated the glass walls right now. I didn’t want anyone seeing me inside his office. Why did I come here again? With the door now shut, I crossed the span of the room and stood before him.

  He propped an expensive black shoe up on the coffee table in front of him and leaned back on the couch as if all was casual. Sure. He tossed his black glasses next to him as his blue eyes, seeming darker than usual because of his navy blue tie, roped me in. “What can I do for you, Anna?”