Bad Habit: Downey Brothers Series

by Mara Leigh

  “No fog, tonight,” I said. “How about we go somewhere with a view?”

  She smiled. “Yes, please. That would be very nice.”

  Four

  Mac

  Waiting for the limo, it was hard to keep my hands off Faith, hard to keep from kissing her again, from doing all the things I wanted to do—things I would definitely do if she were any woman other than Faith. But if she were any other woman, I doubted I’d want her this badly.

  I was a pretty decent guy when it came to women, at least in comparison to most, but if you’d told me a week ago—hell, a few hours ago—that I’d keep so controlled in his situation, that I could keep my hands off her, that I wouldn’t take advantage of this situation, I’d never have believed you.

  A people person by nature, the negotiator for our family business, I prided myself on my ability to get what I wanted.

  And tonight I wanted something more than I’d wanted anything in my entire life. I wanted to fuck this woman, to live inside her, to lose myself in her body and make her feel so good she’d beg for more.

  She wanted me, too—or at least, she wanted a repeat on the necking—and I knew I could easily seduce her into doing much more, more than she could probably imagine or handle.

  From her flushed skin, the way she looked at me, the way she’d responded when we’d kissed, I knew could take this woman in any way that I wanted, as many times as I wanted, and make her think it was all her idea.

  I knew this. I knew it with as much certainty as I knew the sky remained blue, even on days it was covered by fog.

  Angry as she’d been about the hotel room, I could have convinced her to go up there anyway, and within minutes I’d have had my hands all over her body, inside her. Maybe even in the elevator on the way up.

  If I hadn’t put on the brakes, if I’d let Faith follow her body’s instincts, neither of us would’ve been able to stop it. The image in my mind—how those pale cheeks would flush as I moved inside her—how her baby-blue eyes would widen and flutter closed as she was overtaken by pleasure…

  Fuck. I was so hard now I wasn’t sure I could wait for the limo. I wanted to lift her into my arms, charge upstairs to the hotel room, and fuck her, fuck her for so long we might die up there from old age.

  The limo arrived just in time.

  Continuing the date I’d planned, I took her to the Top of the Mark to enjoy another drink and the view. I kept my hands off her as best I could, even as she leaned into me, touched my chest, touched my arm as if testing how far she could go.

  When we left the Mark, we headed over the Golden Gate to take in the city view from the Marin Headlands. I hadn’t traveled much, but doubted there were many places on Earth as beautiful as San Francisco. And I doubted there were any women in the world as beautiful as Faith—especially the way she looked under the lights as we crossed the famous bridge.

  When the driver stopped the limo at the lookout point, she slid toward me on the seat and moved in for a kiss.

  Turning away, I opened the door, got out quickly, and smiled back at her as if I hadn’t noticed.

  There would be no more kissing.

  I was still semi-hard from the Tonga Room dance floor and couldn’t survive more kissing without losing control. I offered my hand.

  Faith took it as she left the car, and her eyes widened as she stepped over to the edge of the lookout point. “It’s so beautiful!”

  I took off my jacket and draped it over her shoulders.

  “Thank you.” She leaned back against me before I had a chance to move, and I rested my hands on the top of her shoulders. At least the jacket shielded our body contact, and in this position our lips would be in less danger of connecting.

  “You haven’t seen this view before?” I asked.

  She shook her head against my chest. “I never even imagined… I’ve only been in the city once before today.”

  “I thought you’d been living here for three months, and what… twenty-two, twenty-three days?” I tried to calculate forward from the day that we met.

  “Living in South San Francisco, yes. Not the real city.”

  South San Fran and the city were basically attached, and it was shocking to hear she’d been living in our hood for that long without taking advantage of all the city had to offer.

  “Sister Henry took me to San Francisco when I first arrived. We went to an art museum and to Union Square.”

  “Which museum?”

  “The one with the naked marble statues.”

  “There’s a naked marble statue museum?”

  She laughed. “That’s all I remember.”

  “Made an impression, did they?”

  She nodded and snuggled my jacket tighter around her.

  “Are you cold? Want to get back into the car?”

  “Not yet.” She turned toward me, and I dropped my arms to the side. I’d been hoping my subtle pressure on her shoulders would prevent her from turning.

  “Don’t you want to look at the view?” I asked.

  “I like this view better.” Her hand landed on my upper arm, so softly it was like she was afraid to make contact with more than the fabric of my shirt.

  “Do you look the same?” she asked.

  “The same as what?”

  “Those marble statues.”

  I laughed. “I doubt it. Aren’t most of those statues of gods or something?”

  “I suspect you look even better.” Her hand traced tentatively upward, then down toward my elbow. “I did see you without your shirt once, remember?”

  I nodded. My mouth was so dry, and every muscle in my body strained against the desire to take her in my arms, to steal her breath with my lips, to crush my aching package against her soft belly—better yet, drive it inside her.

  Her hand drifted up my arm toward my neck, and her head tipped back, making it clear what she wanted. I wanted it too.

  “You can,” she said softly. “It’s okay.”

  “Can what?” My hands formed fists to fight against their instinct to touch her.

  “You can kiss me again.” She lifted up on her toes. “Or are you still angry about how I reacted to the hotel room?” Her eyes were so worried.

  Acting against my will, one of my hands unfurled to touch the side of her face, glowing in the moonlight. “Faith, I wasn’t angry. Quite the opposite. I felt terrible.”

  “Then why…” Her voice trailed off.

  “Why what?” I asked huskily, even though I knew what she meant.

  “Why won’t you kiss me?”

  Looking into her eyes, I could no longer think of a reason, not one that made sense. Cupping her soft face in my palms, I drew her lips toward mine, taking in their sweetness as softly as I knew how.

  She tasted even better than she had before, started responding more quickly, and I fought to keep my shit together, but her tongue lapped against my lips and I lost my mind.

  Our mouths consumed each other and my dick turned rock-hard in an instant. I wanted to be gentle, I wanted to treat her with respect, but my lips and tongue had other ideas, the latter plunging in and out of her like the rock-hard part of me was desperate to.

  Fuck. I’d kissed a lot of girls in my life, I had no idea how many, but I couldn’t remember ever feeling this way, so swept away by a woman’s kiss, like she had total control of my body, my mind and certainly my dick.

  Her body brushed my hard-on.

  I groaned, and she gasped against my mouth. I knew I should stop this before it went any further, while I still could, but instead I let her slide against me again, and then again and again, her back undulating as we kissed, her body pressing harder against me with each pass.

  I was going to come. Like a teenager getting his first female-body-to-penis contact, I was ready to fucking explode.

  I pulled back from her, holding her at arm’s length. I was panting. She was panting. I could only imagine what the limo driver was doing if he was looking out the window.

  Fa
ith looked up into my eyes with so much longing and lust—yes, lust—that I almost didn’t recognize her. I had to use all my strength to hold her away from my body.

  “Are you…” She looked down toward my crotch. “Are you aroused?”

  “Hard as a fucking rock.” I shook my head. “Sorry.”

  “I thought that only happened…” She bit her swollen lip. “I thought that happened when people were naked, in bed, about to perform, you know—the marital act.”

  I laughed.

  “Don’t make fun of me.” Her hand lightly punched my shoulder.

  “I’m sorry. I’m not. It’s just… You’re so surprising, Faith.”

  “So stupid, you mean.”

  I shook my head. “Not at all. You’re naive, refreshing, honest, sweet. I’ve never met anyone like you, anyone who made me feel this way.”

  Her gaze drifted down to my hard-on again. “This is your first time?”

  I almost wanted to lie, because in some ways it did feel like my first boner. It felt different. “That’s not what I mean. It’s more about how you make me feel inside.”

  “Inside… where? Because you give me feelings inside my body that—”

  “I mean emotions,” I cut her off. “Feelings. On top of the physical stuff.”

  “Oh.” A smile washed over her face, taking over her entire being—and mine—so completely I almost drew her against me again.

  “Do you still have it?” she asked.

  “My hard-on?”

  “No, the hotel room.”

  I nodded, slowly. For some reason I had trouble lying to Faith, even when I knew things would be easier if I did.

  “Let’s go there.” She smiled up into my eyes with such a hot combination of excitement and nerves.

  “Faith…” I shook my head.

  “I’ve been thinking about it.” She stroked my shoulder. “This date, it’s about understanding what I’ll be giving up when I take my vow of celibacy. How can I fully understand if I haven’t… If we haven’t… Isn’t premarital sex common these days?”

  I smiled at her frankness. “Yes, but…”

  “I want to try it.” The look she gave me—I almost caved. How could a girl so inexperienced, so innocent look at me like that? With so much heat and passion. Like we were already mid-fuck.

  My dick throbbed. “Premarital sex is common, sure, but not on a first date.”

  “People don’t have sex on a first date? Ever?” Her head tipped to the side. She reached forward and touched my leg, maybe six inches away from my dick.

  If she moved any closer, I’d take her right here against the limo. To hell with the hotel room.

  “Sure. Sometimes they do, but…” I was having trouble breathing, forming full sentences.

  “But you don’t want to.” She looked down.

  “What I want isn’t the point.”

  She smiled up at me. “You want to. I want to. Let’s go before I change my mind. This could be my only chance, ever, and I want to know how it feels.”

  “Faith.” I took hold of her wrist before her hand drifted any closer to my cock. “You’re more than a little drunk. Plus, you’ve had a lot of new experiences tonight.”

  Her fingers trailed along my hip. “I want one more.”

  I grabbed her hand. “Do you still plan to become a nun?”

  “Of course. But I want to try sex. Just once. I mean, just so I can counsel the married parishioners, and understand what they’re talking about. Please?”

  The word almost made me crumble, but I had to stay strong. “Sex. That’s something you should decide in the light of day, when you’re sober. When you’ve had time to think it through. Maybe talked to your friend about it first?” I wanted to cut out my own tongue for sabotaging my chance to be inside this woman.

  “Sister Henry said it would be okay.”

  My head snapped back a little, shocked at this news.

  “Let’s make a deal then.” I cleared my throat. “Give it a day or two. Think about it. If you still want to see what sex is like, then baby, I am more than willing to help you with that.”

  She sighed her disappointment, but then a soft smile spread over her face and I knew I’d won the argument, even though my dick was arguing we’d lost.

  “Deal?” I asked.

  “Deal.”

  I helped her into the car and held her as we drove back over the bridge toward home.

  My whole life, I’d gone after everything I’d wanted, I’d always been content with my lot and sure of my choices, yet suddenly I couldn’t figure anything out. Nothing in my life seemed clear.

  I was a master at getting what I wanted, and I’d just talked Faith out of doing exactly what I wanted. And I wanted Faith more than I’d wanted any woman in my entire life.

  Faith

  I leaned against the plaster wall at the head of my bed. A light breeze blew through the window beside me, making the curtain dance.

  Stretching my fingers, I let the fabric graze my skin, and the light touch of the fabric teased my senses, heightened the arousal I’d been fighting all day. Even the slight headache I’d woken with hadn’t deterred the heated memories of Mac and our kissing.

  I’d wanted so much more last night, I would have let him do whatever he wanted—with me, to me—but he’d been right to stop it. Such a gentleman.

  He was right, though. This was an important decision. I was a virgin, and yesterday I thought I’d remain one my entire life, like our blessed Mary—although one of the many things I’d learned since Mother died was that there was controversy surrounding the Virgin Mary and whether she might have had other children after Jesus, but no matter what some theologians believed, that was one area where I still believed what Mother had taught me. The Virgin Mary had remained pure her whole life.

  And that’s what I’d planned for my life. But I wasn’t a nun yet…

  I ran my hand down my thigh, shocked at how the slight movement in my slacks fabric stimulated the place between my legs. I couldn’t go on like this—consumed by thoughts of Mac and what he might do to me.

  The only answer was to go through with it. Now that real desire had awoken inside me, the only cure was to quench it. Once my curiosity was sated, my lust would be sated, too. Premarital sex was a mortal sin, but who among us was without sin? I’d confess, do penance…

  All would be different once I took my vows, but until then, a little experimentation couldn’t hurt. And if I didn’t try, I’d go mad with want.

  Someone knocked on my door.

  Mac? Was he here?

  “Yes?”

  Sister Agatha opened the door. “Faith, you have a visitor.”

  It was him. Every nerve in my body danced so wildly I had trouble containing my limbs as I rose and crossed the small room to the door.

  “A visitor?” I cleared my dry throat.

  “Yes. I showed her into the library.”

  “Her?” Disappointment shot through me so hard I had to step back. “Who is it?”

  “I don’t know.” Sister Agatha headed down the hallway, her shoes squeaking with each step.

  Curiosity propelled me along the narrow corridor of the sleeping quarters, then down the winding staircase to the floor of the mission where the library was located. This corridor was grand, wood-paneled—meant for the priests and parishioners.

  I stepped into the library and stopped short when I saw who it was.

  “Aunt Astrid.”

  “Faith!” She crossed the room in an instant and bundled me into her arms.

  I stiffened. So strange to have this woman be so familiar. Yes, we were family, but we’d only met once—at Mother’s funeral. Before that day, I hadn’t known she existed. In fact, I now wondered whether she’d lied. I was so naive four months ago, and I’d just taken this woman on her word. Was she my relative at all?

  I backed out of her arms. “Why are you here?”

  A flash of hurt crossed her face, followed by a warm smile. “I�
�ve been worried about you. You weren’t easy to track down, you know.”

  “Worried? Why?”

  “Let’s sit.” She crossed to one of the worn leather chairs and gestured for me to sit opposite her.

  My skepticism shields on high, I joined her.

  “After Britt’s funeral, you disappeared. I was so worried.”

  “I didn’t disappear.” I rested my hands firmly on my lap. “I came here. Father George set it up for me.”

  “Yes, he told me where to find you. He thinks you plan to become a nun?”

  I nodded.

  “Oh, honey, why?” She shifted forward on her worn leather chair, and I straightened my back.

  “Because I have a calling. Because I want to serve God.”

  “Because Britt talked you into it.”

  “No.” I pressed my hands into my knees.

  “Listen, honey. Your mother…”

  “How do I even know that you’re her sister? She never mentioned a sister.” She’d never mentioned anyone in her family and had made it clear I wasn’t to ask.

  Astrid frowned, opened her mouth as if to speak, then bent to pull a few folders of papers from the small backpack beside her. “These are some things I thought you might want to have. Family photographs, some of your mom’s old report cards, and some notebooks.”

  My heart raced as I slowly reached forward to take the bundle of folders. Tears rose in my eyes, and I blinked to clear my vision. A few tears escaped down my cheeks.

  “You must miss her so much.” Astrid touched my hand lightly.

  “I’m sorry.” I looked up from the rug to my aunt.

  “Why are you sorry?” Her head tipped to the side.

  “For accusing you of lying.” I smiled. “I… Since moving here, I’ve learned that not everyone who seems honest, is honest.”

  “That’s a good lesson to learn. Your mom… I can’t believe she kept you so isolated, the two of you out there all on your own. It wasn’t right.”

  “It was peaceful. Safe.” And sister or not, this woman had no right to criticize Mother.

  “She pressured you into choosing this life.” Astrid squeezed my hands.