by Jax Cassidy
“Really? This is your best stuff?”
“Darlin’, this is as good as it gets.”
“That’s not saying much.”
Patrick grinned from ear-to-ear and the soft lines at the corner of his eyes made her imagine a life spent with someone like him. Funny, charismatic, and spirited. She could envision how he’d look with streaks of salt-and-pepper at his temples and the same twinkle in his eye. Get a grip on reality, Donovan! It’s a nice dream—
Flynn didn’t know what possessed her as she raised a hand to his face. She ran her palm across the soft beard, delighting in the feel of his skin, craving the touch of another human being. She had been so long without intimacy that she had forgotten how wonderful it felt. He closed his eyes and she was grateful he allowed her the freedom to caress him without speaking. As if, he too, needed the touch as much as she did.
What am I doing? She dropped her hand but not before he clasped it in his large palm.
“Don’t stop,” he whispered. The husky voice was like a magic spell drawing her closer. It was as if he accepted what they were offering each other without any strings attached.
The words flew out of her mouth before she thought it through, “Would it be too forward for me to ask you to kiss me?”
Patrick’s eyes glowed brightly at her request. Jeez, she thought she sounded a little too desperate and hoped it didn’t come across that way. She suddenly wanted to crawl into a dark hole for propositioning him as if she’d done it a dozen times before. She was such an idiot sometimes!
What would he think of me now?
He remained silent as he reached for the guitar handle and extracted the object from her hand. He gently placed the instrument on the table and without any indication of what his next actions would be, reached for her waist and pulled her hard against him. He bent his head and gave her a scorching kiss that sent her toes curling.
She had never been kissed so thoroughly in her life! Flynn clung to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. She returned his kisses with the same fervor and enthusiasm, inviting him to explore her, to show her the warmth she needed in order to feel alive again. He tasted of whisky, smooth and smoky, yet potent and provocative all at the same time. This was exactly what she wanted right now to drown her worries...if only for a moment.
She ran her hands up and down his back and felt the hard ripples of his muscles beneath her fingertips. She wondered how beautiful he would look when he stood naked before her. As if he read her thoughts, he broke their spell and gripped her waist, hoisting her onto the edge of the table.
She responded breathlessly, “Patrick...” He placed a finger to her lips to quiet her before he stepped between her parted thighs, continuing where he left off. His hands were gentle as he cupped her face, kissing her forehead, her nose, before recapturing her lips.
Flynn groaned beneath his touch, his fingers running along her neck, arms, and rested on her ribcage. He was gentle as he pulled the shirt over her head, his hands continuing to explore her skin. He stopped his caresses and cupped her face, searching her eyes and she knew exactly what he was asking.
She gave him a wicked smile, grabbing hold of his shirt as she lifted the fabric. He raised his arms as she yanked off his shirt, flinging it hastily over her head. He chuckled at her impatience but the laugh died on his lips as soon as she unsnapped her bra, releasing her breasts from their constraints.
“You’re gorgeous,” he said hoarsely.
Flynn held her breath, truly believing he meant it. She could see the lust reflected in his emerald eyes and ached for him to take her, to fill the void. This man, this stranger, who attracted her more than anyone she had ever met before. Not for his looks but something deeper, some kind of sizzling connection that was clearly obvious from their first glance.
She couldn’t let this thing between them pass. Patrick was too damn enticing for her to deny the immediate sexual needs. What was wrong with giving into the primal urges if both their fantasies were fulfilled? Besides, he probably wouldn’t remember her name when she was gone, and the thought made her decision so much easier.
She stretched up to brush her lips against his and he leaned into her, kissing her back with the same gentleness until the passion escalated between them. She returned his kisses with the same aggressiveness; hungry kisses that begged him to take away the loneliness. Her eagerness was all the answer he needed. He leaned into her until her back was against the table.
Her body jerked as soon as her skin touched the cool wooden surface. The sensation elicited a hiss from her, and his excitement increased. His mouth and tongue teased her with an expertise that promised more to come, but he was toying with her as if he was not in any rush. Patrick ran his tongue down the length of her neck until his mouth connected with her breast. She gasped in pleasure as his hands fondled her swollen flesh, his tongue nipping and taunting the hardened peaks. The delicious torture only increased her yearnings and she arched her back, spurring him on.
He pulled away and she moaned her protests. Patrick’s voice was thick with desire, “Forgive the lack of foreplay, luv. I’ll make it up later. Right now, I need all of you.”
Her lips curved into a cruel smile, “I’ll hold you to that. Now shut up and—“ her words were muffled by the sweltering kiss he planted on her.
Patrick didn’t waste time removing the rest of her garments before stripping out of his own jeans, only stopping to retrieve a condom from his wallet. He tore into the foil with his teeth and quickly sheathed himself before repositioning between her thighs.
“Just hurry up,” she instructed.
Patrick laughed, and then leaned down ever so slowly for another kiss. His tongue swirled and dueled with hers, smooth as velvet, his movements became a tender eroticism that made her pussy throb in anticipation for the real thing. She was so caught up in him that he took the opportunity to reach for her, gripping her buttocks as he plunged deep inside. She groaned at the suddenness of his actions, digging her fingernails into his ribs. He hissed at her straightforwardness and there was no mistake that they were a perfect fit for this fantasy.
“Hellcat,” he spat out before he claimed her lips roughly. He kissed her with a heart-palpitating ferocity while pumping in and out of her, with long and quick strokes, as if to tell her he had waited too long for this day. He was so big that he filled every inch of her, making her soar to new heights with each stroke. He slowed his pace and she nipped his lower lip. He groaned in response, hastening his pace to accommodate her wishes.
She blinked, her gaze focusing on the wooden beams of the ceiling and the reality of their surroundings came hurtling back. She murmured against his lips, “The door is unlocked.”
He pinned her with his gaze and growled, “I know.” He appeared to enjoy the possibility of getting caught.
God, he was fucking hot when he looked at her that way! His mischievous eyes that once burned a bright green were now a deep emerald. Rich and mysterious but she was reading too much into them, in this game. She imagined that he was the kind of man that possessed a magnetic personality on the outside, but inside, she believed he harbored indecipherable secrets. Secrets she was dying to uncover under different circumstances.
Secrets I will never have the opportunity to know.
The thought made her stomach squeeze in disappointment. Patrick had managed to penetrate her defenses in less than a day and that shocked the hell out of her. It was as if he knew how to flip on a painful switch that left her craving for a future, one she once believed she’d never have. He was confusing her mind with his attentions yet at the same time he was igniting her body with sensations she had locked away so she wouldn’t get hurt.
Patrick stirred things in her that she had long denied and now she wasn’t afraid to be bold. Wasn’t afraid to take what she wanted because she may never have the chance to feel like this again. Yes, she had to grab these feelings with both hands and her acceptance of the situation set her body free to explore these
desires.
Liquid passion flowed through her, awakening the sleeping sensuality, and craved more from him. She couldn’t seem to get enough of his touch, his taste, his kisses. He’d become an addictive drug, and she wanted every last drop. He weaved a powerful spell that coursed through her, an uninhibited experience only heightened by the fact that they were fucking on the table where anybody could walk in at any second.
Flynn could hear his heart pound against her own chest, could feel his hard cock pumping deep into her, leading her to the brink of release. Their breathing increased, their moans floating through the air like musical notes. Patrick slid a hand off her butt-cheek and eased her leg up to position over his shoulder for a deeper penetration. His fingers glided up the length of her leg, along her calf, and connected with her ankle as he continued his excruciatingly long, steady strokes. Faster, faster, faster until he built up the momentum, until she felt her pussy constrict, squeezing tight, reaching the very edge of orgasmic euphoria.
“I’m going to come,” she cried, her head thrashing back and forth in pleasure.
He leaned into her, gripping her ankle more securely as he gave one last thrust that sent her body reeling into a dark abyss of unadulterated rapture. She screamed out in ecstasy, her voice echoing through the room as she shuddered from the warm sensations spreading through her. Every nerve ending was aroused and sensitive from the release as he let her ride out the orgasm. Slowly, he lowered her leg and buried himself even deeper into her as if he claimed her for his own.
His tongue glided across her bruised lips, kissing the corners, plucking the swollen flesh as he teased her lovingly. When she was fully satiated, he began to increase his pace, pumping in and out with long languid strokes. His cock throbbed, grew harder, pulsed inside her as she clenched herself tight around him. He let out a curse at what she had done, his movements charged with energy and strength.
It didn’t take long before he reached the same pinnacle that he had taken her to. Patrick let out a raspy groan and buried his face against her throat, and came with such force he shuddered against her. She remained still, memorizing every beat of his heart, every second that led up to this, as their bodies were sticky with perspiration from their lovemaking. She wanted to weep at the liberation, but this kind of intimacy should be with someone she loved, who loved her. Not like this, not with a man she hardly knew...yet he had willingly given and bore his gentle soul for her to see.
Flynn’s eyes fluttered open and glimpsed the thin sliver of light peeking through the slit between the curtains. What time was it? She didn’t need the answer as strong arms held her close in a spooning position. She smiled and snuggled back against the warm body, enjoying being held after an evening of torrid lovemaking. She didn’t think she’d ever be able to picture the bar the same way again. They had made love in so many places, tried so many different positions that she wondered if she’d be able to walk again.
However wondrous the day had turned out, in reality, she still needed to make a decision by the end of the week. Flynn let out a heavy sigh. They’re probably wondering where I am. She’d left first thing in the morning and hoped they would understand her need to be alone. She wasn’t going to take any offer without thinking it through, even if it meant never wanting for anything again.
Even in a drugged sleep, Patrick’s arm tightened around her waist as if he knew what stressed her and wanted to protect her. She loved the feel of his taut muscles, squirming closer, but gasped as his erection was pressed hard against her. As much as she wanted him to take her again, she needed to recuperate after their marathon sexcapade.
She could hear his gentle breathing and listened for a few minutes before she twisted her neck for a quick peek at him. She turned back and her eyes had now adjusted to the dimly lit room. This room was actually a small office, simple and sleek. The desk with a tempered glass surface was organized except for the stack of papers spread across one corner. Probably invoices that needed to be taken care of.
Right now, they were lying on a comfortable cot that he used as a makeshift bed. She wasn’t surprised that he had simple tastes that leaned toward the functional necessities. She supposed he had spent many nights working late or entertaining guests. She stopped herself, the green-eyed monster rearing its ugly head, and didn’t want to dwell on the latter. She wanted to be the exception. At least she would pretend that she was.
Patrick was definitely everything she imagined a boyfriend would be if she were dating. He seemed well-rounded, intelligent, hard-working...but she couldn’t see herself giving up her dreams to settle for a man who lived over a bar. She didn’t want to follow her mother’s footsteps and chase something that wasn’t real. Wind up with a man who deceived her in every way. Who was to say Patrick wasn’t going to burn her sooner or later? Might as well see this for what it was: sex. A one-night stand hardly constituted sturdy relationship material when it was purely built on attraction.
She wanted to believe Patrick wasn’t made from the same mold: men who were out for nothing more than a few tumbles in the hay. Maybe she was a hypocrite for wanting more. Damn it, but he made her fluctuate from hot to cold! She wasn’t sure which way she should go and she imagined how much more conflicted she would be if she threw caution to the wind.
Wasn’t she entitled to have everything she wanted out of life? Perhaps in the future there might be a possibility of pursuing a long-term commitment, but not now. Things were much too complicated with him in the picture.
Stop thinking about it. This is just a fantasy, nothing more.
So why did her heart feel heavy, as if she was missing out on something potentially wonderful? A part of her hung onto fairy tales and white picket fences. A part of her believed that true love existed, and that there was only one man that would make her genuinely happy and complete. Her mother’s words had always been comforting as a child being tucked into bed. Her mother had believed in true love to the very end, but where did it get her?
Flynn felt Patrick kiss her neck, his warm breath sending chills through her. She enjoyed the intimacy more than she should. Truthfully, she was starting to like the man even better.
“You need to get some more sleep, luv,” he said with a thick brogue she was growing used to. He nuzzled the back of her neck and her body tingled from his gentle affections.
“I’m still recovering from jet lag,” she lied.
“Ah, it will be easier with time.”
She looked at an imaginary spot on the wall as she spoke, “Knowing me, I’ll get used to it about the time I return to the States.”
Patrick tensed, pulling her closer. His voice sounded raspy when he spoke, “That’s right.” He cleared his throat and continued playfully, “I’m warning you, though, Ireland crawls in your blood and soon you’ll be hankerin’ for it.”
Flynn rolled around, the cot creaking with her movements as she faced him. “Thank you for this,” her voice was thick with emotion.
Patrick cupped her cheek. He whispered, “No need to thank me. We’re only two strangers needin’ a wee bit of company.”
She nodded her head and nuzzled his palm. “I’m leaving in a few hours—“
He didn’t let her finish as he covered her mouth with his. His tender kiss made her long for something she knew she shouldn’t.
“Let’s pretend for a few hours that we aren’t strangers. Just two lovers traveling in a foreign land, without a care in the world.”
Flynn licked her lips as she let his words sink in. She knew it was a bad idea but she caved in anyway. “This is a fantasy, right?”
He agreed, “Aye, a fantasy. In this universe there’s no talk of leavin’.” Patrick’s throaty laugh made her grin.
She nodded and kissed his nose. “So what do you propose then, lover?”
Patrick sat up and the covers moved with him. She squealed as the cold air produced instant goose pimples across her flesh. “The adventure begins elsewhere. Chop, chop. There’s no time to waste.” He rol
led off the cot and picked up pieces of clothing that lay discarded on the floor. By the time he made it to the closet, he was almost fully dressed.
“It’s cold as hell. I don’t even have a thick jacket with me,” she protested and snuggled deeper under the blanket.
“No worries,” he winked. “I’ve got some things in the closet that may fit you.”
Flynn groaned but complied. She got up and used the wool blanket as a wrap, the fabric trailed behind her as she walked across the room. She bent down to retrieve her rumpled clothes from the floor and expertly pulled on her underwear and adjusted her bra beneath the blanket.
Patrick laughed as he watched her get dressed. “You never cease to amaze me. Have you used this trick often?”
“A woman’s got her secrets.” She dropped the blanket and made a show of pulling on her shirt and sliding into the tight jeans.
He gave her a lecherous grin as he stalked her. “You best be careful or we may not leave this room after all.”
“Oh no you don’t! Not after I’m dressed!” She squealed as he chased her around the room. Flynn hadn’t laughed so hard in such a long time and she almost couldn’t believe it was her that was laughing.
Patrick seized her waist and whirled her around to face him. He stroked the stray blonde hairs from her face before palming her cheeks. He leaned down to kiss her hard on the lips.
Her eyes were still closed when he said, “C’mon now. It’ll be daylight before long and I’ll not have you turn into a pumpkin until then.” He turned her toward the closet and smacked her soundly on the butt.
When she was sufficiently bundled up, he picked up her guitar case, and toted it downstairs after her. Once they locked up the pub they headed down the quiet street. She glanced around and noticed the parked cars along the curb were covered in a thin layer of frost. Patrick reached for her hand and she didn’t hesitate when their fingers were tightly entwined. He led the way up a sloped hill where his car was parked.