Her hands fell away from their aggressive positions and he took it as an invitation to step forward into her apartment. The neighbors didn’t need to hear any more than they already had. She stepped back, and for a change, Moira appeared to be speechless.
Her chest still rose and fell with heavy breaths, but her eyes softened. Another half step and then she pressed herself against him, pulling his shoulders down and his face closer to hers. Her lips twitched in a playful smile before they met his.
His arms circled her body and he grabbed her ass and pulled her into him. She was a foot shorter than him and their bodies were not lining up the way he wanted. He pulled her up and she wrapped her legs around him. God, she felt good. Better than good, but his brain couldn’t find a word because her tongue erased his ability to think.
He spun and leaned her against the closed door. The flimsy dress she wore flew up to her waist and he groaned. His brain emptied of everything except for Moira’s softness surrounding him.
CHAPTER 9
Moira loved the feel of Jimmy holding her. His determination was definitely a plus in this situation. His hands explored under her dress, which bunched around her waist. His fingers were strong and insistent. As much as she wanted to touch him everywhere, all she could do was grip his shoulders, afraid he might drop her.
His lips trailed down her neck and he buried his face in her cleavage. One hand left her ass and moved to the front of her dress, tugging at the buttons. She tightened her legs at his hips, bringing him even closer to her center without being inside her. How she wanted that.
A series of little pops told her he’d ripped her dress. That was going to be hard to explain to Mom. His tongue rode over her breasts and she ran her fingers over his scalp. His short hair softly bristled against her palm. He sucked on her nipple through her bra and she wished she’d thought to wear something prettier.
He tugged her nipple in his teeth and she knew he hadn’t even looked at what she wore. She thrust her hips, her nerves coiling and seeking release. He moved to her other nipple and she wiggled more. With a grunt, he pressed her fully against the door, not allowing her any more movement, and she almost whimpered.
She yanked at his shirt, pulling it from under her calves, using the door as leverage and balance to inch it up, but his arms were in the way as he continued to hold her in place. Heat spread everywhere and she wanted to get rid of any barrier between them, but he wasn’t cooperating.
“Jimmy.” Her voice was husky and barely more than a whisper. He didn’t respond, so she reached for his face. When he looked up at her, she said, “Get naked.”
He gently released her legs, setting her on the floor. She tugged at his shirt again, but he stepped back, staring at her.
The look on his face was one of utter fear. Her heart pounded. She swallowed and then smiled. She ran her hands under his shirt, around his back, pulling him closer to her. “Kiss me.”
Instead, he grabbed her shoulders and held her at arm’s length.
“What?” she asked quietly, angry at the desperation she felt.
“Give me a minute.” He turned away and adjusted himself, took a step, and then ran his hands over his head.
She could almost hear the conversation going on in his head. Walking up behind him, she ran her hands along his hips and slid them into his pockets. She meant for it to be playful, but he jumped. The movement forced her to yank her hands back.
“Talk to me, Jimmy.”
He turned back to face her. His eyes roamed the length of her and she knew her pale skin blushed under his gaze. His lips tightened to a thin line and he pulled the gaping front of her dress closed. It was like he just realized what he’d done and his face twisted.
“Sorry about this. I’ll buy you a new one.”
She knocked his hands away. “I don’t want a new damn dress. I want the guy who was manhandling me a few minutes ago to come back. I want him to screw my brains out.”
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled again. He pulled his keys from his pocket and walked out the door.
What do I do that keeps chasing him off? Emotion stuck in her throat, making it difficult to swallow. After locking the door, she leaned against it, trying to gather her thoughts, calm her emotions, and soothe her rampant hormones. Now that Jimmy was gone, her skin cooled.
She bent over and picked up the buttons from the floor. Maybe she’d just sew this herself. She had no reasonable explanation for how three buttons popped off. While squatting, she saw a piece of paper and picked it up. A list of five phone numbers, but no other information.
It must be Jimmy’s. She looked out her front window and saw his car was still there, so she called his phone. “You dropped a piece of paper with phone numbers on it.”
“Shit.”
“Do you need it?” What she really wanted to know was whose numbers they were.
“Yeah.” He paused.
She waited. “Are you coming back up to get it?”
He groaned. “No, I can’t.”
“I see your car, Jimmy. You’re still out front.”
“No, I mean I can’t walk up those stairs again. I’m very uncomfortable right now.”
She released a wicked laugh. “Guess you should’ve finished what you started then.”
“Not like that, Moira.” His voice was steady, but quiet.
She sighed. She had no idea what he was struggling with, but she didn’t have the patience for it. “Do you want me to bring it down?”
“Not a good idea. I’ll get it from you tomorrow.”
“I have dinner at my mom’s. I’ll bring it and drop it off.”
“Thanks.”
She saw his headlights finally flick on and he pulled away.
“Did you lock the door?”
“Yes.” She stared at his car until he reached the end of the block and turned.
“Good night, Moira.”
“It would’ve been,” she mumbled.
She turned away from the window, letting the curtain slide back in place. Too revved to sleep, she changed into her comfy sweats, turned on the radio, and went into the kitchen to make brownies. It was her turn to bring dessert to dinner. She’d planned on making the brownies in the morning.
Now, she intended to make a double batch: one to eat warm from the oven and one to share with her siblings.
Chocolate might not be able to take the place of a great orgasm, but in a pinch, it was an adequate substitute. She opened her cabinets and pulled out ingredients. Liam would be ashamed to see her kitchen and lack of supplies. She had the bare minimum she’d need for the brownies. A box of cereal she couldn’t remember buying and a jar of peanut butter were the only other items in the cabinet. In her freezer, she had a pint of ice cream and a couple of frozen pizzas.
She should go shopping. Better yet, she should invite Liam over. He’d shop and cook her dinner.
After mixing the brownies on autopilot, she shoved them in the oven and settled in front of her computer. She thought back over her night and realized Jimmy wasn’t the only person having a problem concentrating on his job. She wrote a couple of paragraphs about the fund-raiser, including talking about a couple of the pets up for adoption.
As an article, it wasn’t much, but it would do for now. She’d add some filler later, when she was in a better mood, like not sexually frustrated. She shot a text to Kathy and Elizabeth and asked them if they wanted to come over for brownies.
Elizabeth answered first: Colin wants to know what’s wrong.
Moira rolled her eyes.
The invitation was for you, not my brother. Brownies out of the oven in ten.
Colin says he’ll cover me at the bar if he can have some.
Sure.
Colin didn’t need to know he’d have to wait until tomorrow to get them. She had no intention of sharing this pan with any man.
Kathy hadn’t responded, so Moira figured she might be on a date.
Chocolate scent filled the air. She checked th
e pan and caught sight of Jimmy’s slip of paper. Curiosity always got the better of her. She picked up her phone and dialed the first number.
“Elite Escorts, how may I direct your call?”
Moira fumbled the phone and disconnected. An escort service?
Jimmy was following up on her idea. Had the mystery woman said the name of the company? Moira couldn’t recall, but it seemed like she would have, even though it hadn’t been on the business card.
She fingered the paper. Jimmy had told her to stay out of his investigation, but this was about her article on Chicago’s wealthy men using escorts. She needed to find the right kind of service to get information. How did a woman decide to be an escort? If she kept her focus on the women, there might not be any overlap with Jimmy’s case. And if there was, it wouldn’t be until he was done anyway. She made a copy of the numbers.
The timer for the brownies went off, and she pulled them from the oven, her mind racing on the topic of escorts. While the brownies cooled enough to eat, she went back to her computer.
She was a bit of a news junkie. How could she not be when journalism was her life? She’d seen a couple of news stories about prostitution on the Gold Coast, the Viagra Triangle as the neighborhood was called. Older men seeking younger women to provide services. Then, of course, there were the online personals with their coded messages for payment.
But she couldn’t see any of the men she met regularly doing that. She began her research in earnest and came across the story of the Gold Coast Madam. The woman had just published her memoir.
What if someone else decided to take up the torch left behind from Rose Laws? There was a distinct possibility someone had. The business itself was too lucrative. The system would work; privacy was the name of the game in order to be successful. People would trust her. They would tell her things, like when they wouldn’t be home, making burglary possible.
Stop. Thinking like that crosses over to Jimmy’s investigation territory . If she stuck to the lifestyle and business itself, it would not only be a great piece, but if she could get it done quick enough, it would be timely as the Gold Coast Madam paved the way with her publicity.
A knock sounded at her door, startling her from her thoughts. She’d forgotten about Elizabeth. She opened the door to find Elizabeth carrying a six-pack of beer, which Moira found funny since Elizabeth hated beer.
As she walked in, Elizabeth studied Moira. “What’s going on? Both Colin and I figured it was man trouble, but looking at you now, you look more excited than bummed.”
Moira took the beer and put it in the fridge. Beer and brownies didn’t mix. “Man trouble was definitely the reason for the call and the brownies, but while I was waiting for you, I got distracted with work stuff and something just clicked right. The spark of a new story kind of thing.”
“As much as I’d like to hear about the story, I’d rather hear about the guy.”
Moira grabbed a knife and cut into the still warm and gooey brownies. She hefted an obscenely large piece onto a plate and handed it to Elizabeth. Then she repeated the action for herself. She pointed to the couch, and when they were settled, she thought about where to begin.
Elizabeth had met Jimmy at the block party, but she didn’t know him. While she thought, she took a bite of brownie. Nothing surpassed the first bite of a warm double chocolate fudge brownie.
“God, this is good.”
Moira nodded. “I’ll give you the recipe.”
“I don’t cook.”
“Not at all?”
“Nope.”
Moira nudged her. “One more thing to like about you.”
“So, guy. Spill.”
“You remember Jimmy, Liam’s friend. He lives across the street from Mom.”
“Was he the one who soaked you?”
Moira shook her head. “No, that was Kevin, Jimmy’s brother. Jimmy stopped me from killing his brother and then gave me his shirt. He’s the one who wouldn’t play truth or dare.”
Elizabeth’s eyes lit and she smiled approvingly.
“He kissed me when I ran into him at a work thing. Then he kissed me again last Sunday when I went to talk to him. I asked him out. Kind of, but he didn’t show.”
“He blew you off?”
“Yes, but it was work, and he did call. Then he brought me ice cream and we watched my favorite movie.”
“Sounds good so far. Not that I’m upset about getting a brownie out of this.”
“He’s got some family stuff going on and he wants to go out with me, but he doesn’t. And there’s this intense attraction that he’s constantly fighting. I’m not sure why and it’s frustrating. He was here earlier, and I was sure we were going to get naked, but he stopped and ran away.”
“Like in the middle of the act?”
Moira snorted. “No. We were getting warmed up and he pulled back. He’s always pulling back. I’m trying to be patient, but come on. I was warm and way more than willing and he just left.”
She shoved more brownie in her mouth thinking about the sexual frustration.
“Did he give a reason?”
“No. He apologized.” She stopped with a sudden thought. “He does that a lot around me. Apologize. Even when it’s unwarranted.”
“Maybe his family stuff is getting in the way of him getting involved with you.” She shrugged and put her plate on the table. “Talk to him about it. Find out what he wants, what he’s looking for, and see if it matches what you want.”
Moira ate her brownie. What she really wanted right now was a to-die-for orgasm. She didn’t think anything with batteries would deliver.
“And if that doesn’t help, I know a bar with a fabulous ladies’ night. Great place for dancing.” Elizabeth smirked.
Moira knew she was referring to the bar where Moira had sent her when Elizabeth first came to town. “That is a great ladies’ night. It’s not my fault you were already hung up on my brother and couldn’t appreciate the other men there.”
With another bite of brownie, she sighed. If Jimmy had never kissed her, she’d go to a bar to continue to try to find the right guy, but now Jimmy was all she could think about. It was like being twelve all over again.
Elizabeth kept her company and allowed her to vent about Jimmy and chat about the story she was developing. When a yawn escaped, Elizabeth stood.
“Get some sleep. Put Jimmy out of your mind. I’m going to help Colin close the bar.”
Moira stood to walk Elizabeth out. “See you tomorrow at dinner?”
Elizabeth shuddered. “Yeah, I’ll be there.”
Holding the door open, Moira laughed. “We’re not that bad. The more you’re exposed to all of us at once, the easier it gets.”
“I doubt it.”
Moira locked up, unable to put Jimmy out of her mind.
Sunday afternoon came much sooner than Moira was ready for. She’d spent the morning doing more research and thinking about interviewing Rose Laws. What was the likelihood the woman would agree? Before requesting, though, she wanted to have questions prepared, to have a plan. Time escaped while she was planning, and then she was running late for dinner.
She pulled up to her mom’s house and looked across the street at Jimmy’s. Eyeing the clock, she decided she could run there and drop off his slip of paper and then go to dinner. It offered her a quick escape so she wouldn’t have to deal with the awkward conversation after almost having sex.
She knocked on the door and waited. Mr. O’Malley answered the door. “Hi, Mr. O’Malley. I’m Moira from across the street. Is Jimmy home? I have something to return to him.”
The old man nodded and yelled over his shoulder, “Jimmy, come to the door.” Then he shuffled away.
Moira wasn’t sure if she should go in, so she waited on the porch. The TV blared in the living room and she wondered if Jimmy heard his dad. Maybe she should shove the paper in the mailbox and text him.
Too bad she hadn’t thought of that plan before she knocked.
&nb
sp; “Hey,” Jimmy said from the other side of the screen.
“Hi. I brought your paper.” She held it up.
He opened the screen door and held it open with his leg. Taking the paper from her, he said, “Thanks. I need this for work. Want to come in?”
“No, thanks. We’re all having dinner at Mom’s.” She pointed over her shoulder as if he didn’t know where her mom lived.
“Okay.”
She edged away.
“I’m sorry about last night.”
“Sorry about what? That you didn’t finish what you started?”
“Yes. No. I’m sorry about the way I treated you.”
What the hell was he talking about? “You’re apologizing for getting me hot and bothered and then leaving?”
“No. I’m apologizing for pushing you up against a door and ripping the buttons off your dress. You’re not the kind of girl—”
“Stop right there, Jimmy. Don’t even think about finishing that sentence. The thought of you wanting me so much you almost took me up against a door was hot. I wouldn’t trade that for anything. And before you start thinking anything about what kind of girl I am, know this. Every girl wants to have her buttons torn off on occasion.” She turned away. Ten years since she attended a Catholic school and she was still being treated like a good girl. As if she wasn’t supposed to have any desires. Like she should lead a passionless life. She might as well be a nun.
“Wait.”
She stopped on the walkway at the bottom of the steps and turned.
“Can I take you out after dinner?”
“Tonight?”
He nodded.
“On one condition.”
His eyebrows rose.
“You promise not to treat me like a nun.”
He chuckled. “Trust me, that is never how I’ve thought of you.”
She headed back to her mom’s house and heard the screen door slam behind her. Stopping at her car to grab the pan of brownies, she checked herself in the mirror to make sure she wasn’t blushing. Answering her siblings’ questions might ruin her plans for the night.
Catch Your Breath Page 15