I make a sound at the back of my throat. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a bit jealous. Not that I have any good reason to be. I’m letting her stay at my place, but that doesn’t mean I can say who she can or can’t flirt with. But I know Colin. I know exactly what he wants, and what he’s willing to do to get it.
Colin leans over and says something to her. Whatever it is has her head tilting back as she laughs. His hand reaches out and brushes her cheek, causing her face to color slightly.
Enough of this bullshit. If anyone’s going to be touching her tonight, it’ll be me.
It takes me four long strides to close the distance between us.
“It’s time to go,” I growl against her ear.
I feel the small tremor that races through her body, but she does a damn good job at hiding it. She turns back to Colin.
“We just got here.”
Colin places his hand on her waist, and I see her flinch slightly, but she doesn’t do a damn thing about it.
“I can drive her back later, if ye want to head out.” The grin Colin gives me has my fingers curling into fists. When he glances back at Delaney, his intent clear in his eyes, I know I’m seconds away from beating the shit out of him. “Unless ye want to come back to my place. Ye’re more than welcome to stay with me if ye’re already tired of this bastard.”
If I had any claim on the woman at all I would take a swing at him, but I’m sober enough to know that I don’t. At least, not yet.
I grip Delaney’s elbow and pull her off the stool.
She lets out a small squeak, “Hey.”
Ignoring her protest, I lead her to the back of the pub, in the hallway between the restrooms, where there are no eyes on us.
“What are you doing?” She pulls out of my grip, staring up at me with a flash of fire in her eyes. But this time, the fire isn’t lust. It’s irritation.
“No, what’re ye doing? Are ye looking for trouble?”
“Maybe I am.” She tilts her chin up at me stubbornly. “Either way, it’s none of your business.”
A growl rumbles in my throat, because I want it to be my business.
“Is this about that damn list?”
“Yes.” She looks up at me defiantly, almost daring me to take what I so desperately want. What we both want.
When I don’t, she starts to walk away.
I place my palm on the wall, stopping her. “Ye’re looking for a stranger to kiss, is that it? Or maybe it’s number twenty-two ye’re looking to cross off.”
Red creeps into her cheeks, but she holds my gaze. “And if it is?”
Her tongue darts out over her lips, drawing my gaze down to her perfect mouth.
My body and brain war with each other. Hell, I can feel my balls drawing tight against the base of my shaft, my cock begging for freedom. I need to touch her. Kiss her. Be inside of her.
Seconds go by. Long, intense, promise-filled seconds, until she lets out a small, frustrated noise.
Her hands rise to my chest to push me away, but I don’t budge.
“If you’re not…” She shakes her head, glancing away, and I swear she’s fighting back tears. Her voice is shaky when she says, “I need to do this.”
“Ye need to kiss a stranger?” I place my palms on the side of her face, fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of her neck, and force her to look at me, trying to understand her motivation.
“Yes.” The way she says it, like it’s paramount to her survival, stirs something possessive and primal inside me.
Fuck. I can’t hold back any longer.
I crush my lips against hers, groaning into her mouth when her lips part for me on a little whimper. Her body melts against me, hands going to my chest, fingers fisting in my shirt. She kisses me back with the same frantic need that drives me.
It’s just a kiss, but the heat of it is consuming, melting the world around us, until there’s nothing but me and her.
When I pull away, she’s breathless, her cheeks pink, and her eyes wide.
Emotions I haven’t let myself feel in a long time stir in my chest, and I quickly suppress them. Whatever this thing is between us, it can only be physical, and I haven’t decided if that is even a good idea.
As much as she’s trying to put on a show to prove otherwise, Delaney isn’t the one-night-stand type. No matter what her fucking list says.
I drop my hands and breathe out roughly. “There. Satisfied? Can we go now?”
She stares up at me, blinking. Stunned. It’s how I feel, too. Stunned by the things she stirs inside of me. I’ve just learned over the years how to hide my emotions behind a mask of irritation.
Straightening her shoulders, she tilts her chin. “It doesn’t count.”
I open my mouth, then shut it. When I open it again, I bark out, “Why the fuck not?”
“You’re not a stranger. I know you.” She pushes past me. “It doesn’t count.”
“Ye don’t know me, love,” I growl as I follow her, causing a few heads to turn in our direction.
She stops quickly and turns back to me. “I know your name. And I know you’re arrogant and broody. You drive too fast, and if last night is any indication, you drink too much.”
I grunt, dragging my hands through my hair. “Ye’ve got me all figured out, do ye?”
Her lips twitch up slightly, but the sadness is back in her eyes. “I also know you’re hurting. I don’t know why, but I see it. It’s why you’ve got this whole shield around you, like you think the whole world is against you.”
I catch Aiden watching us with a look of amused curiosity.
Fuck.
“Ye don’t know what ye’re talking about.”
I hold her gaze, and I can see she wants to say more. Her eyes are so goddamn expressive, and I swear I can see every shredded piece of her heart as I look into those hazel depths.
“Look.” She places her hand on my arm, her gaze now sober. “I like you. And I appreciate you letting me stay at your place until I figure my shit out. But I’ve had people telling me what to do my entire life. I don’t need one more. I’m going to have fun tonight. It’s something I haven’t let myself do in a really long time.”
I exhale, slow and steady. I know she’s right, but there’s no chance in hell I’m leaving her here with Colin lurking in the shadows. She comes home with me.
Hazel eyes watch me with wary arousal. God, that look nearly undoes me.
“Fine. One hour. Then we leave.”
Her face brightens. Her lips, still swollen from my kiss, curve up in a smile. “Thank you.”
“Just don’t expect me to enjoy myself.”
She laughs. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“And stay away from Colin.”
She places her palm on my chest and goes up onto her toes, so that her lips are only a breath from mine. “As long as you promise to kiss me again later.”
When she starts to move away, I grab her around the waist and whisper roughly in her ear, “I promise I’ll be doing a lot more than kissing ye tonight, sweetheart.”
Chapter 9
Delaney
Cillian’s hard gaze hasn’t left me, and even from across the bar, I can see the promise in his eyes.
A shiver of anticipation races down my spine. Am I really going to sleep with him? I’ve never done anything so wanton in my life. But God, I want to.
“I love Ireland.” My words are slurred, but I don’t care. For the first time in months, I’m actually enjoying myself. Plus, if I’m really going to do the things I’m thinking of doing, I’m going to need a couple more drinks to release the nerves knotting in my stomach.
“How long are ye staying?” Emer asks, clinking her shot glass against mine.
I shrug, because I really have no idea.
All I can think about is the kiss.
Cillian leans against the bar, watching me. Aiden is with him, and whatever he’s saying to him, has Cillian scowling.
“How long have you known him?” I ask.
The band starts playing a new tune, some sort of Irish folksong, and the room erupts in drunken voices.
An older man wraps a thick arm around Emer’s waist and starts singing to her in a thick Irish brogue. She laughs and joins him.
I grin, wishing I knew the lyrics. There’s a joy here that’s infectious. I know little about Irish history, but I know they’ve had their fair share of suffering, both as a country and as a people. But it’s clear it never broke their spirit.
When I glance over at Cillian, he’s in a heated conversation with his two friends. For the first time all night, his gaze isn’t on me.
I slide off my stool, but the second my feet hit the floor the room starts to spin, and beads of sweat break out above my upper lip. It’s hot in here, and I’m starting to regret that last shot of whiskey.
“I’ll be right back,” I yell over the music to Emer. “I need to get some fresh air.”
She gives me a small nod, and continues to belt out the old Irish folksong.
She sighed and she swore that she never would deceive me. But the devil take the women for they never can be easy. With your whack fol the diddle day. Whack fol the diddle, oh whack fol the diddle. Oh, there's whiskey in the jar.
I make my way to the front of the pub, trying my best to walk in a straight line. My stomach rolls, and I barely make it outside before I empty its contents into one of the bushes.
I groan and place my forehead on the cool stone of the building.
“Ye okay there?” A deep voice rumbles behind me.
Running my tongue over my teeth, I close my eyes and pray that the world will stop spinning.
“Fine,” I slur, stumbling when I push away from the wall.
“Careful.” Large arms wrap around me, saving me from doing a nosedive into the bushes.
When I glance up, two faces become one, and I’m struck by the familiarity of the eyes that stare back at me, even though I’m sure I’ve never seen the man before.
Music blares out as the pub door opens.
The man’s eyes jerk in that direction.
I follow his gaze, wincing when I see Cillian standing there, his face red and eyes filled with rage.
“Take yer fucking hands off her.”
The stranger glances down, then releases me so quickly I almost lose my balance.
Cillian moves so fast I’m not sure the other man even has time to react before his head is snapping back with the force of Cillian’s fist.
Someone screams, and it takes me a moment to realize it’s me. “Stop!”
“Fucking bastard!” Cillian yells, taking another shot, but this time the man ducks, and his own fist hits Cillian with an uppercut to his jaw.
The other man gets in a few more good shots, but so does Cillian, and I’m pretty sure they’re going to kill each other.
People pile out of the pub when someone notices the brawl.
It takes four men, including Aiden and Shane, to pull them apart.
“Get off me,” Cillian yells, shrugging Aiden and Shane away.
“Just cool the fuck down,” Aiden says, standing between the men, one hand on Cillian’s chest.
The other man spits blood, then wipes his mouth with his forearm, glaring at Cillian. “Ye really are a volatile bastard, aren’t ye, little brother?”
“I have no brother,” Cillian lashes out, his words full of contempt.
The man must be Owen. I see the resemblance now. Only he’s a bit taller, and his eyes are more gray than blue.
“Get out of here,” Aiden says, turning to Cillian. “Before ye say or do something else ye’ll regret.
Cillian sucks back his bloody lip, then spits. “Loyal to the end.”
Aiden opens his mouth, then shuts it, shaking his head. “Go home.”
“Fuck off. All of you.” Cillian turns and glares at me. “Are ye coming? Or are ye going to stay here with these bastards?”
I suck in a shaky breath. The look in his eyes says he expects me to betray him as well. I give a small nod and follow him when he turns and starts walking to his car.
Silence stretches between us on the ride home.
My head is still swimming from the whiskey, stomach churning, and I have to clench my back teeth every time we go over a bump on the road.
I have no idea what just happened, or why Cillian reacted the way he did. But it’s obvious that he and his brother had a serious falling out. It must be the reason for the tension between him and the other men as well.
When we pull up to his house, Cillian gets out of the car and slams the door behind him, still not making eye contact with me.
Inside, he stomps to the kitchen, pulling out a bag of frozen carrots, then grabs the bottle of whiskey. He takes a swig and hisses as the liquid hits his busted lips.
He leans against the counter and places the carrots against his jaw, the bottle dangling from his other hand. His blue eyes are stormy, and yet almost vulnerable. Almost. He has too many walls up to ever let anyone close enough to be truly vulnerable.
I know I should leave him alone. But something forces me to stay.
“So, that was your brother?” I regret the words the second I say them.
He glares at me.
“Nothing happened, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Ye think I bleedin’ care if it did?”
“Yeah, I do.” I cross my arms and glare back.
“Ye’re wrong.” He takes another deep swallow from the bottle.
I sigh, removing the distance between us, and take the whiskey from his hand.
“Am I?” I put the bottle to my mouth and tilt it back. I don’t need anything more to drink, but after emptying the contents of my stomach, then witnessing an all-out brawl, I’m feeling way too sober for what I’m about to do.
“Ye’re drunk.”
“A little.” I put the bottle on the counter, my breast brushing against his arm when I lean across him.
He watches me, brows drawn down, a scowl pulling at his lips.
I place my palms on his stomach, feeling his abs tense under my touch. He lets out a low growl, but doesn’t move away.
“Ye’re lookin’ for trouble, aren’t ye?”
“I am.”
He puts the bag of carrots down, then captures my wrists when I start to slide them up his chest.
“Delaney. Ye’re a nice girl–”
“Right.” I start to pull away, feeling the rejection in his words, but he doesn’t release me.
He’s watching me, blatant hunger in his gaze. There’s no attempt to hide the lust that burns there. So why is he fighting it?
“I just want to make sure ye know what ye’re doing.”
I blink up at him. “I have no clue. But I know I want this.”
“Sex,” he says roughly, moving closer. “That’s what ye want? ‘Cause that’s all it can be.”
I nod. My stomach dips like I’m falling, and my heart thumps radically in my chest.
Please, my body begs.
He exhales heavily, and I can’t read what he’s thinking. I half expect him to push me away. Instead, he takes my hand and starts to lead me down the hall towards the bathroom.
“What are you doing?” I frown when he turns the shower on.
“We both could use a shower.” He winks, and I follow his gaze down, wincing when I see the splatter of vomit on my shirt.
“Oh my God.”
He chuckles. “I’d have been surprised if ye hadn’t been sick, the way ye were drinking. How are ye feeling now?”
“Better.” Tipsy, but sober enough to know what I want.
“Good.” A small grin plays on his lips. “Now come here and let me undress ye.”
A thousand butterflies take flight
in my stomach as he reaches for me. How am I supposed to keep my sanity when he strips my control with just a touch?
His fingers find the hem of my shirt. “Lift your arms.”
I obey as he pulls the material over my head, then tosses it to the floor.
Warmth spreads through my body, not only from his touch, but from the heat in his eyes.
He reaches behind his back and pulls off his own shirt.
My breath catches in my throat, and I can’t help but reach out and touch the dark patterns that mark his arms and chest. “You’re perfect.”
He chuckles, tilting my chin up with his thumb. “I think ye’re still drunk.”
“What do they mean?” I trace the patterns on his arms.
“Celtic symbols.” He places my hand over the ink on his chest. “This one means strength.”
“It’s beautiful.” I run my fingers down his chest, over his abs, the sensation sending little electric-like shocks zipping through my fingertips and straight to my core. When I reach his belt, a small tremor of anticipation races through me.
“Ye’re beautiful,” he says. One eyebrow quirks up and he grins, then reaches past me and hands me my toothbrush. “But ye need this.”
He laughs when I take it from him, and I give him a little shove as I move to the sink. Standing behind me, he trails his knuckles across my shoulder and leans down, pressing his lips to the back of my neck while I brush my teeth.
I shiver as his hands continue to roam across my back, over my hips. When I rinse my mouth, he spins me around and kisses me.
“Much better.” He nips at my bottom lip, chuckling, his hands never leaving my body.
There’s no rushing, which I’m grateful for. As much as I want this, want him, I’ve never done anything like this before.
Sure, I’ve had sex, but only with Matt, and only after we’d been dating for almost a year. And even then, it had never been anything like this.
I loosen Cillian’s belt and lick my lips as I continue to unbutton his jeans. My fingers are shaking slightly. He must notice, because he takes my hands and brings them to his lips, his gaze never leaving mine.
“Ye all right?” His voice is thick and rough, and my core clenches in anticipation as the sound slips across my skin.
Wild Irish Page 5