Lust Is the Thorn

by Jen McLaughlin

  I jerked back. If he ran his hands all over my body…“I can wash myself, thank you very much. I’ve got one good arm on me, and that’s enough. I just needed help with my hair.”

  “And risk getting your splint wet the first day you’re in my care?”

  I lifted my chin. “I won’t.”

  “If you do, can you afford to go back and ask for another one? To pay out of pocket, since you don’t have insurance?”

  Avoiding his eyes, I shrugged. “They took pity on me once and gave me this one. They might give me another.”

  “No, they won’t.” He shook his head. “Now stay still.”

  “But—” I broke off with a groan. He ran the washcloth up my inner arm, slowly climbing to my biceps. It was an innocent thing. He was helping me out of the goodness of his heart. But, God. My body didn’t know that. Every nerve in my body tingled and came to life, begging him to touch me everywhere. Every. Where. “God.”

  “Nope, I’m just me,” he said distractedly, staring at his hands moving over me. His mouth parted, and he moved closer, his nostrils flaring. “Just…” He slid his hand down my arm again, snaking toward my palm. “Shit.” Something in him snapped, and he stared at me with a startling intensity that claimed me as his without a word. And, God, I wanted it to be true. I wanted to be his in every sense of the word. “Stand up. Right now.”

  I blinked at him. “But—”

  “Now.”

  “Okay. God.” I struggled to my feet and he helped me steady myself. “There.”

  His grip on me tightened. “Turn around. Face away from me.”

  I sucked in a deep breath and did as I was told, resting my good arm against the white-tiled wall. “What are you—?”

  “Shh.” He climbed into the tub behind me, fully clothed, the heat of his body washing over me. I wasn’t in the water anymore, so I shivered, but inside I burned with the heat of the desire that he had awakened in me. Desire I had never felt so strongly before. He trailed a soapy finger down my spine, stopping just short of my butt. “I’ve got you, Rose.”

  “Wh-what are you doing? You’re getting your clothes all wet.”

  “I don’t care. I’m cleaning you. All of you.”

  “But—”

  “You’re so beautiful.” Even with the shirt separating us, I felt his touch all the way to my dark, twisty soul. And I ate it up. His hand paused, then but snaked around to the front of me. He slid his hand under my shirt, soaping up my waist. He climbed higher, the tips of his fingers brushing the bottoms of my breasts. “My Rose. My sweet Rose.”

  I dropped my forehead to the tile, chest rising and falling rapidly. He’s not seducing you. He’s bathing you. Do not engage. Do not moan. Do not come. “I’m not sweet at all.”

  “Ah, I think you are.” He dipped his hand over the sides of my panties and down my thigh, washing me and driving me insane, all at once. “I think you’re very sweet.”

  I bit my lip to hold back the moan that was trying to escape. “If you knew what was going through my mind right now, you wouldn’t be saying that.”

  It took all of my self-control not to move my hips restlessly, to keep myself from begging him for more. The washcloth scraped against my inner thigh, perilously close to the spot where I needed him most. If he didn’t stop, I would beg him to take me, no matter how badly I wanted him to achieve his dreams. To take his vows. If he kept touching me…

  None of that would matter.

  “What are you thinking?” he demanded, his voice rough and raw. He skimmed the washcloth across my panties, moving to my other thigh. “Tell me everything.”

  I shook my head rapidly, biting my tongue. “No. I can’t.”

  “Why not?” He moved closer, his chest brushing against my shoulders, and moved the washcloth higher. “Too scared to be honest?”

  “I’m not scared,” I said quickly. “Not of you—or anyone.”

  He bent down and ran the washcloth over my calves. Knowing his face was level with my ass and my pussy…God, it did things to me. I pressed my thighs together again, and he ran the washcloth up the seam that made between my legs, slowly straightening to his full height again. “That won’t make you feel any less empty, Rose. Nothing will except me, filling you, taking you, touching you. Trust me. I would know.”

  “Fuck you,” I snapped. “You’re playing with me. We both know this isn’t going anywhere. And you still didn’t answer my question. Do you ever have any dirty—?”

  “Instead of telling you, let me show you.” He splayed his hand across my belly and pulled me against his wet body. He was fully clothed, but it didn’t detract from the fact that under those boring black khakis of his, he was hard as steel. “What do you think? Do I still have dirty thoughts, Rose?”

  “Clearly,” I gasped. I dropped my head against his shoulder, and his hand crept lower. I held my breath, waiting to see just how low he’d go. “Thorn—God, yes.”

  “Tell me what you’re thinking about right now.”

  Enough. He was playing a game with me, and he thought he was in control. Thought he was toying with the idea of making me horny, and maybe he was under the impression that I was too scared to actually do anything about it. That I’d shy away, because he was “holy.” But I wasn’t Catholic, and he wasn’t actually a priest, so to me…

  He was just Thorn.

  The guy I wanted, the man I’d loved since I was a kid. I wouldn’t cower at the idea of being with him. I would do anything, give up anything, to be with him. Even if it was only for a night. If he wanted me, well, then, he could have me. And I wouldn’t tell a soul about it.

  If he wanted…

  I could be his dirty little secret.

  Spinning in his arms, I made sure to back away from the water. Pressing my back against the cold tile, I grabbed his shirt. The water in the tub was up to my midcalf now. Letting my gaze dip down, I inhaled a deep breath. Through the black khakis he always wore, I could make out the shape of his hard cock, begging me to take it in my hand and show him just how good life on this side of the tracks could be. Because, God, I wanted to.

  So fucking badly.

  “I’m thinking you should put your mouth to better use, and make me come. I want your lips on me, and your tongue inside me, and I want to come so badly it hurts more than my wrist or my throat does.” I yanked him closer, till his body was pressed against mine, and even though the harsh movement should have hurt, I didn’t feel pain. Just determination. “I think you should stop pretending you’re so damn holy and take me already. Either that, or stop touching me, and we can pretend this never happened and go back to acting as if we didn’t want to see each other naked. Your move, priest.”

  He watched me, lips parted, eyes heated, and for the life of me…

  I had no idea which option he’d choose.

  Chapter 5

  Thorn

  So many arguments swam through my mind at light speed. Things like…

  She looked so pretty standing there, almost naked, asking me to make her forget, but I couldn’t do that. How had I gotten here, in this tub, with Rose Gallagher? She blinked at me, and seemed so vulnerable and alone, and there was no way I was going to be capable of walking away from her. I held on to the washcloth, blood racing through my veins. Do it. Close the distance between you. Make her forget.

  Shaking my head slightly, I stared at her, unsure of what to do. Where to go from here. I never should have let it get this far, my hands on her body, and these thoughts in my head. I knew I should stop. Walk out of that room before I did something we’d both regret. She wasn’t mine to have. Wasn’t mine to take. Not after what I’d done. Not after the pain I’d caused her.

  But even so, my hand skimmed over her thigh, and the washcloth dropped to our feet. “You have no idea what you’re asking me for. Who I am. What you’re doing.”

  Her breath escaped in a whoosh, and she hooked her leg around my thigh. “I bet I have a hell of a lot more of an idea what’s going to happen
than you do. It’s been, what, almost eight years? You’re practically a virgin again.”

  The reminder should have been enough to cool my ardor, to make me back off. Instead, it made me want to prove her wrong. But still…the voice in the back of my mind wouldn’t shut up, and it was telling me to back off, now, before it was too late.

  That I couldn’t touch her. Take her. Fuck her.

  If I fell into this abyss, if I stopped trying to be better, and embraced the darkness inside of me like a long-lost friend, there was no telling how far I’d fall. And Rose was the one thing I could never allow myself to have. Not having her was my penance. My punishment. I couldn’t give up on that. Couldn’t be that selfish boy I’d once been.

  I rolled my hips into her, letting myself enjoy her soft body pressed against my hard-on for a split second before I jerked back. “Show me what you like, Rose.”

  Her jaw dropped. “Wh-what?”

  “Touch yourself.” I skimmed my hand down her cheek, watching her pulse leap wildly at my words, and my touch. “I want to watch you come. Now.”

  A nervous laugh escaped her, but her eyes flashed with excitement. “Seriously?”

  “Like you said. Nothing wrong with admiring God’s good work, right?”

  Her eyes widened. “I don’t think so, no. But you—”

  “What’s wrong?” I dropped my hand to my side, forcing myself to stay still. To not give in to my urges, no matter how hard it might be. “Too scared?”

  The jab worked as expected. Anger flashed across her features, and she lowered her hand over herself, cupping her core. “I told you. I’m not scared of anything.”

  I gripped her leg, making sure not to let my fingers climb too high. It might seem stupid, but I couldn’t shake the belief that if I didn’t touch her or myself, and I just watched her…that wasn’t breaking any of my ironclad rules. I wasn’t going back to that bad place I’d once basked in. “Prove it. Show me what makes you feel good. I need to see.”

  Understanding crossed her face, and she slipped her hand under her shirt. “How badly do you need it?”

  “You’d never believe me.” I stepped closer, my attention locked on her hand under her shirt. I’d never wanted to burn an article of clothing so badly before. “I need you to lift your shirt. Show me what you’re doing to yourself.”

  She dropped her head back, bit her lip, and lowered her hand. Slowly, oh so slowly, she lifted her shirt, baring her pale, creamy flesh. Her waist was narrow, and I could make out every rib under her pale flesh. She had another rose tattoo, this one under her right breast, and I wanted nothing more than to trace it with my tongue.

  It had only one thorn, just like her other rose tattoo.

  Groaning, I lifted my hand, fully intending to touch it, but she clucked her tongue and dropped the shirt back into place. “Uh-uh. You said you wanted to watch, not touch. And I don’t want to be a bad influence….”

  “If you don’t pull that damn shirt back up—” I gritted my teeth, letting my hand fall back to my side. It had never felt as empty as it did now. “Do it. Now.”

  Her cheeks flushed, and she did as told, yanking it high enough that I could finally see the dusky pink buds on her breasts. Her nipples were hard and puckered, and it took every ounce of discipline in me not to grab her, smash her against the wall, kiss her, and take her hard and fast. Every. Damn. Ounce. But that’s not what she needed, and it’s not who I was. Or, that is, it’s not who I was supposed to be now.

  So I didn’t move.

  Didn’t break.

  She dragged her hand across her nipple, tugging on it. A small moan escaped her, and she pulled even harder. Her breath quickened, and mine sped up to match hers. She scratched her nails down her stomach, leaving a trail of red lines behind that made me forget all about the bruises on her neck, her breathing ragged. “Thorn.”

  “I’m here,” I said, my voice wavering. “Right here. Keep going. Don’t you dare fucking stop.”

  “You have no idea how many times I’ve pictured you doing this to me.” She curled her good hand over her core, moving her fingers in a circular motion as her lids drifted shut. Her splinted arm remained safely out of the water. “And this. God, when you touch me like this, in my head, I go crazy.”

  “Don’t. Don’t you dare look away from me.” I slammed a hand by her head, leaning in, breathing in her scent, and locked gazes with her. “Rougher. Faster. Now.”

  The force of her eyes latching on to mine as her hand moved faster affected me in ways no one ever had before. Not just the sexual act and the physical turn-on; it was as if it was actually my hand on her, and not her own.

  As if we were connected somehow.

  Which made no sense at all, and yet somehow did.

  A strangled groan escaped me, and I dropped my forehead to meet hers, closing my hand around her biceps. It was the closest I could get to touching her, to making her come, without actually doing so. That was a line I couldn’t cross, no matter how much I might want to. “I’ll answer your earlier question, if you promise not to stop making yourself squirm.”

  She nodded, her breath escaping in a whoosh as her fingers circled her clit. “I-I promise.”

  “Yes. I have dirty thoughts. And yes, I wake up with my hand on my cock, and my breath coming out fast, seconds from orgasm. And every damn time, I talk myself down. Every damn time, I hold back, because it’s what I’m supposed to do. Who I’m supposed to be.” I swallowed a moan and skimmed my finger over her damp skin. Her hand moved faster as I spoke, and I would have given anything to be that hand, just for a second. “And every time, it’s you I see in my dreams. You I feel touching me. Kissing me. It’s always you, Rose. It’s always been.”

  Her hand stopped, and her jaw dropped. “What?”

  “I told you not to fucking stop,” I growled, my tone harder than steel. The second she started moving again, I lifted a hand and pressed my fingers against her mouth, dying for just a little taste of her. Just one little taste…“That’s better. And, yes. It’s always you. On top of me. Underneath me. It’s always your sweet lips that are wrapped around me, driving me higher and higher until I want to explode, but I never get to. I never get to have you. It’s torture.”

  She arched her back, crying out. “Keep talking. God, don’t stop.”

  I sucked in a deep breath, seconds from orgasm myself, simply because she was whimpering louder, and her movements were growing jerkier, and it would be so easy to give in to those darker urges that had never fully left me, no matter what promises I had made, or what life I hoped to lead in my search for absolution.

  I tightened my grip on her arm. “In my dreams, you make the hottest sound when you come. Let me hear you. I need to hear you.” I ran my knuckles over her cheekbones roughly. “And your cheeks are always flushed, your nipples hard, and your mouth wet…let me see it. I need to see it. Show me heaven. Come for me, my sweet Rose.” I skimmed my fingers over her shoulder and toward her breast, my breath hitching in my throat as her nipple puckered. Her skin was so soft. So creamy. “Scream for me.”

  She cried out, her whole body collapsing against the wall. She was breathing heavily, her cheeks pink and her red lips parted, just like I’d always imagined. Her long brown hair framed her face, clinging to her damp skin, and she had an effervescence to her that I had never seen before. And the sound she made? Nothing was hotter than that.

  I had to join her.

  Had to have her.

  Letting out a ragged moan, I pressed a hand to my cock, squeezing it until the pressure eased, trying to kill the need to bury myself inside of her. It didn’t work. Nothing worked. She locked eyes with me, watching. Waiting. Moaning again, I squeezed harder, and gripped the button on my pants with my free hand.

  The second I unbuttoned it, she was on her knees, splashing in the water at our feet. All it would take was me pulling down the zipper, and I could be buried inside her hot, tight, little—

  Ring. Ring.

  Behi
nd her, my phone lit up, vibrating against the porcelain countertop of the vanity. I froze, my hand still on my cock, and glowered at it. Ring. Ring. I slammed my hand against the knob, turning off the water. The tub was almost overflowing, but the emergency drain had done its job and prevented the water from spilling over.

  Running my hand through my hair, I let go of my erection and collapsed against the wall. “What have I done?”

  She still watched me as if she ached to take my cock in her mouth and suck on it until I forgot what I was. Who I was. Until I forgot all about my promises to Mikey and went back to being the selfish boy I used to be. The one I swore to leave in the past. “So…uh…I guess we’re done here, right?”

  “I…yes.” My phone continued ringing, and I ignored it. I focused on her splinted arm instead. “I…I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry.” She stood up uncertainly, and I reached to catch her elbow, helping her to her feet. “It was fun…for me, anyway.”

  “No. It was wrong.” I let go of her as soon as she was steady. “I’m supposed to be helping you, not…not…”

  Her lips twitched. “Believe it or not? That was a huge help. I needed that more than I needed soft words and gentle touches. You know how Gallaghers are. We don’t do soft. We take action, and that was the best action for me. I feel great now. How about you? How are you feeling?”

  My cock ached with the need for relief, my soul longed for forgiveness even more than before, and I was even more uncertain of myself. Nothing in this world would stop me from wanting to watch her do that again. And again. And again. As often as she would let me.

  That was the real kicker. I wanted her more than I wanted air, or light, or water. But I’d ensured I would never have her. Never touch her. Never know her like that. It was the nicest thing I’d ever done for someone else.

  And the hardest.

  “No need to answer.” She pointed at me and bit her lip, right by her piercing. I’d have given anything to press my tongue against that spot. To taste her. “I can see it written on your face. You wish you could go back and do this whole thing over again. But you can’t. What’s done is done. There’s no going back.”