Souls ReAligned

by Tricia Daniels

  Olivia has never seen Ethan bite his tongue before. Feeling uneasy, she watches as he struggles with it. His jaw clenches tightly, his face is turning bright red, but he refrains from voicing his anger. Turning, he ushers Olivia toward the door, closing it with a loud thud.

  Aiden sits back in his chair and releases a long, frustrated breath. “Are you satisfied, woman?” he says aloud.

  Anna O’Connell’s voice comes over the phone speaker, “Well, you were somewhat polite to her. You need to stop punishing the boy. He’s reaching out to you.”

  “Anna,” he begins,

  “He needs his father’s support, Aiden. Now more than ever.”

  “I’m not talking about it anymore today, Anna,” he warns her.

  “Okay, Aiden. If you’d like to see just how cross I can get, then come home late for dinner one more night this week.”

  Walking through the facility with Ethan at her side, Olivia doesn’t hear most of what Ian’s saying. She’s focused on Ethan and his dour mood. She wishes she could take him in her arms and hold him until the sting of his father’s dismissal fades away. A few times, she reaches for his hand, forgetting where they are, and then lowers it slowly to her side. If she could just touch him, even for just a moment, maybe she could draw him out of his fog and make him smile.

  “And this… is where the Artemis team is working,” Ian announces as he swings open a heavy looking glass door, “You’ll be spending most of your time in here.”

  Olivia looks around the white, sterile looking room, where design sheets and schematics cover the tables and walls. Several engineers look up curiously from their work areas.

  Feeling their discontent about her intrusion, Olivia smiles politely as Ian introduces them, one by one. “I hope I remember everybody’s name tomorrow,” she says, embarrassed that she didn’t catch most of them. With his thick Irish accent infused with the common Gaelic dialogue, she wonders, at times, if Ian is even speaking English. “I hope there isn’t going to be a quiz,” she jests.

  Ethan grins for the first time, in what seems like hours, “Do we need name tags for tomorrow, Miss James?”

  “Perhaps, Mr. O’Connell,” she glances around the room at all the men watching her, “And possibly an interpreter,” she says, feeling ashamed.

  The men laugh courteously, and return to their work.

  “Ian, are there documents and files that I can read through on the progress of the project? I’d like to get up to speed as quickly as possible.”

  “Of course. Those are the files there. I’ll have them moved to the desk in Ethan’s office.”

  Following Ian’s gesture, Olivia’s eyes land on several storage boxes piled on the floor. Looking at Ethan, her mouth opens in shock.

  “Don’t panic! It’s not as bad as it looks,” Ethan assures her. “Let’s not worry about it until tomorrow.”

  Ethan says little on the taxi ride to the flat. Concerned, Olivia strokes her hand on his thigh, trying to soothe his angst. Staring out the window, lost in thought, Ethan barely seems to notice her touch.

  Arriving at the small brick building, Olivia steps out and takes in the beautiful architecture as Ethan unlocks the door. Half way up the stairs to the third floor Olivia starts to feel tired; the result of the fever that she’s been denying all day. Pushing forward and keeping up with his pace is a challenge; but she does it, wiping the perspiration from her brow when he’s not looking. She has so much work to do, to get this important project on track for him. She won’t allow her self to get sick now.

  Pushing open the door to the flat, Ethan allows Olivia to enter first. It’s a small space, extremely modest, but tastefully decorated. Helping her with her jacket, he folds it over the back of a chair and looks at her with a sullen expression. “I have some things to get caught up on,” he advises. “Before we left the office I ordered food to be delivered in. The bedroom is down the hall to your right, if you’d like to get some rest. Morning here comes five hours earlier than you’re used to at the moment.” Moving into the small sitting area, he opens his briefcase and takes out a stack of papers.

  Obviously, he has no intention on talking about it. Not wanting to push him, Olivia makes her way to the bedroom. There, she finds her suitcases at the end of the most beautiful four-poster bed she’s ever seen. It’s clearly a very old piece of furniture that’s been meticulously restored. It’s very romantic looking. Olivia gets a warm and fuzzy kind of feeling. Not yet feeling the results of the time change, she’s wide-awake and not ready for sleep at all. Following his instructions, she pulls on a soft satin nightie and climbs in under the covers. The sheets are cool against her skin, making her feel extremely lonely in this massive space.

  Thinking about her man brooding in the other room, she tosses and turns restlessly, unable to settle. Giving up, she throws on the matching robe, and makes her way back down the hall. She watches him from the doorway, as he flips back and forth between documents with determination. A half eaten slice of pizza rests on top of the glass of Irish whiskey beside him.

  Feeling her presence, he looks up at her. “Is there something you need?” he inquires. His eyes follow her, as she advances toward him in the extremely sensual red satin.

  Taking the papers out of his hands, she drops them back into the briefcase. Untying her robe, it slides off her shoulders and onto the floor. “Actually, there is something I need,” she confesses, straddling his legs and lowering herself onto his lap.

  “Liv,” he begins, “I need to finish reading that proposal.” His hands hesitantly move to her thighs. Touching her skin, gripping the soft flesh in the palm of his hands, encourages the tension to leave his shoulders.

  “It’s my first night in Ireland. I think you need to give me a proper Celtic greeting.” Frowning at his resistance, she continues tugging at the bottom of his shirt.

  Feminine curves and the soft satin that gently flows across them, erode his resolve. Sliding his hands up her thighs, he pushes back the edge of her nightie until he exposes what’s beneath it. His mind empties of all thoughts except those of her body and the way it feels beneath his hands.

  Finally stripping him out of his shirt, she leans forward against his chest, rocking her hips against him. Feeling every rippled muscle of his rock hard abs beneath her, want begins to grow stronger. The warmth of the satin between them causes an erotic feeling that makes Olivia moan. Ethan brings his mouth to hers, swallowing her sounds of pleasure. Deepening his kiss, his arms wrap around her. Pulling her closer, he holds her against his chest. His erection strains uncomfortably inside his pants, making him adjust his position. It continues to swell and lengthen underneath her, as she undulates her hips over him. Yielding to her demand, he gets to his feet, lifting her with him. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she holds on to him as he moves her toward the bedroom. Stopping midway down the hallway, Ethan stops abruptly, pressing her back against the wall and devouring her lips. Her hands rake through his hair, tangling her fingers in it and pulling his mouth closer. Hips clash together, thumping against the wall.

  Adjusting his hold, Ethan carries her through the doorway and gently lays her on the bed. Looking up into his ravenous gaze, she waits patiently while he rids himself of his pants. Climbing in beside her, he pulls the covers over top of them, to shield her from the cool air of the room. Brushing his hand along the soft material of her nightie, he finds his way beneath it. Moving the edge of her panties to the side, he slides his hand in, dragging his fingers across her. She lifts her hips, desperate for his touch.

  With a low feral growl, Ethan slides her panties over her hips. Guiding them down her thighs, he rids her of them completely. Impatiently, Olivia grasps the bottom of the red satin nightie and pulls it upwards. Ethan stops her. “Be patient. I like the way that feels,” he says, hoping to discourage her.

  Taking in shallow breaths, she hesitates before releasing the hem and letting the soft, soothing material fall across her stomach. Lifting it, just enough to expose
her breasts, he lowers his mouth. Sucking a nipple into his mouth, he surrounds it with warmth then pulls away. The cool air in the room surrounds her, making her shiver. Leaning in he gently blows his hot breath across her wet nipple, making it harden even more. Arching her back, she closes her eyes and whispers his name. He’s never heard it sound sweeter than when it’s spoken from her lips. It makes him want to keep her in a constant state of arousal, so he can hear her say it over and over again. Reaching down, she takes him in hand, stroking his entire length and teasing her finger around the engorged head. Ethan’s body thrums with the heated rush of blood coursing through his veins.

  Moving to position himself on top of her, he settles between her thighs. Entwining his fingers with hers, he stretches their arms above their heads and locks them together. With gentle pressure, he holds them there, moving his hungry lips back to her mouth. Olivia falls under his spell, her body completely under his control. Lifting her hips, she silently pleads him to sate the ache there. Ethan complies with her request, sliding into her with careful penetration, making her breath hitch.

  Circling her hips, she matches his slow steady rhythm, throbbing with desire beneath him. Adjusting his angle, her body becomes more responsive as every stroke provides just the right pressure. Friction is her best friend, and Ethan is its master. He ignores her pleas for him to go faster and harder. Instead, he takes longer deeper strokes, drawing out his own pleasure.

  Ethan feels a shockwave coiling inside him, preparing for release. Letting go of her hands, he holds himself above her with his powerful forearms, rolling his hips and forcing himself against her pelvic bone. When she clamps down around him preventing his withdrawal, he buries his face in her neck letting out a primal masculine growl. Grasping the sheets, in tightly clenched fists, Olivia’s body begins to quiver beneath him, making him sink himself deeper; branding her soul with his release.

  As rapture pulses through her body, Ethan trails open-mouthed kisses up her neck, stopping at her ear. “Welcome to Ireland,” he whispers. “You’ll want to come again, soon. And… I can personally guarantee, Miss James, that you’re going to come often.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Sitting on the grass, he leans against the trunk of a large tree, reading to her from the leather-covered book. The gold embossed title isn’t faded at all, anymore; it’s bright, clear… NEW. Lying with her head in his lap, she closes her eyes. Listening to the sound of his smooth, soothing voice, she allows him to draw her in to the story, away from reality. She could listen to him read this story repeatedly, never growing bored with it.

  Closing the book and placing it down beside him, he watches her with adoration. Gently caressing the pad of his fingers across her cheek, he stops at her mouth. Tracing his index finger around her luscious lips, he smiles. Opening her eyes, she looks up at him, locking her gaze to his. With that look, their soulful connection anchors them, binding them together.

  With gentle pressure, his fingers continue to glide across her jaw and along the length of her neck. As his hand skims downward, toward her breast, his breathing hitches. Scooping his arms underneath her, he lifts her on to his lap. Wrapping his arms around her, he lays his cheek on her chest and releasing a contented sigh.

  Holding him against her bosom, she runs her fingers through his hair, rocking him gently and soaking in every moment of his love. Leaning back, he stares at her mouth, needing to feel its warmth. Lips poised and ready, she waits for his lead. The anticipation is almost painful. When he claims them, with heated desire, she feels her body respond. Squeezing her thighs together, she clenches, feeling his hand pressed against her there.

  Opening her eyes, Olivia finds herself laying flat on her stomach, with Ethan’s heavy body partially pinning her down. She moans, arching her back as the hand between her legs awakens a sensual sensation of pure pleasure. Dear Lord, the man has skill. Pressing his lips against the back of her neck, he nips and bites at the tender skin there, making her body jump. Caressing his hand over the rounded curves of her bottom, he expresses his excitement with a low growl.

  Throwing his leg over her, he lies on top of her; completely pinning her, face down, beneath him. Pushing his hips forward, his already pulsing erection encourages her to spread her legs and let him in. Adjusting her position slightly, she raises her ass, so that their bodies line up perfectly. Sliding his hand beneath her, he presses his palm firmly against her as he slides into her pussy from behind. Every thrust of his hips forces her sensitive clit against the hard palm of his hand.

  Supporting himself on muscled biceps, he provides himself with better leverage. Lifting his chest off her, he slams his hips against her, sinking himself deeper. Completely owned by him, she’s aroused by the pleasure he’s taking; her body responds to his need. Feeling his warm breath on her neck, she wonders if he’s fully aware of how much she truly needs his masculine possession.

  Leaning his mouth into her ear, he pants heavily. “I’m going to come,” he warns. His body tenses and she senses his release with his next thrust. His hot panting breath echoes in her ear “Get there. NOW!”

  Her orgasm unfolds, at his command, as her body erupts into spasms of pleasure.

  “That’s right, Baby Girl,” he growls in her ear as she comes back to earth. “Who owns your orgasms? Tell me.”

  “You,” she pants, trying to focus her thoughts.

  Gently lowering himself back down on her body, he leaves behind a trail of red marks as he bites along the back of her shoulder. “Yes, I own them. I own that one and every other.” Rolling to his side, he lets her catch her breath.

  “Only you,” she confirms.

  “They’re all mine. It’s my name you scream out when your body erupts in pleasure.” Feeling satisfied and drained, he straightens her nightie, pulling it back down over her hips.

  With his body now beside her, she feels the chill of the air. Tucking in under his arm, she moves as close as she can, needing the warmth from his body.

  “I really like this Irish hospitality,” she sighs.

  Smiling, he presses his lips to her forehead. Immediately, he becomes alarmed, “You’re hot,”

  “Thanks,” she says. “You’re pretty hot yourself.”

  Ethan chuckles, “No, Baby. I mean you’re feverish.”

  Olivia looks up at his concerned face, “I feel fine. See I have goose bumps. How can I be running a fever if I’m cold?”

  “That’s not a good sign, Olivia. I’m going to call the doctor and make you an appointment.” He halts her protest with a finger to her lips, “Hush. It’s rude to argue with your host.”

  Ready for her first official day at O’Connell Industries, Olivia walks into the living room of the flat, feeling nervous.

  Gathering up his paperwork and stuffing it into his briefcase, Ethan looks up and smiles.

  Making her way across the room she walks into his chest, pressing herself against him, burying her face under his chin. “I’m so nervous,” she admits.

  Wrapping his arms around her, he comforts her, “About work?”

  Nodding her head, she wraps her arms around him tighter, making him grunt. “No reason to be nervous, Love. You’ve got this.” Looking at his phone, he frowns, “John’s here. He’s going to take you to see the doctor. I’ll see you at OCI afterward.”

  Olivia’s shoulders slouch and she pouts as he releases her. “Don’t give me that look. I need you healthy. If something is going on with you, let’s get it resolved right away.”

  A few hours later, John drops Olivia off at the front door of O’Connell Industries. Ian greets her at the door with a warm smile. “Are you feeling well?” he inquires, escorting her toward Ethan’s office.

  “Yes, I’m fine,” she assures him. “I’ll get started right away.”

  “Forgive me. You’ve misunderstood. I’m concerned for your well-being. That wretched project is not a concern of mine.” Ian’s gentle eyes and warm smile put her at ease.

  “Thank you, Ian
.”

  Knocking once, he opens the door to Ethan’s office, and lets her in. She stops, feeling uncomfortable at the sight of Ethan and Shannon standing in the middle of the office. She can tell by Shannon’s rigid stance and the pulsing vein on Ethan’s temple, that they’re engaged in some sort of a disagreement. Ethan’s face is red, a sign that he’s seriously on the edge of losing his temper. Acknowledging her presence, they stop talking and turn in her direction, making her feel awkward.

  “I’m interrupting something,” she says apologetically. “I’ll wait outside.”

  “Stop!” Ethan says with authority, as she turns toward the door. “You don’t have to leave. You might as well hear this.”

  Glancing over at Shannon’s look of frustration, Olivia feels nervous.

  “We were talking about the paternity test,” Ethan continues, watching Olivia’s reaction. “Go ahead,” he encourages Shannon. “Finish what you were saying.”

  Noting the onset of his anger in his expression, Olivia walks to where they’re standing as Shannon begins talking. Taking her place at his side, she reaches down and takes his hand. Anxiety vibrates through his body. Uptight and angry, his hand remains stiff in hers.

  “I was saying,” Shannon continues, “the best way to determine paternity is by amniocentesis but the procedure does carry some risk. So, Jessica has refused.”

  “Can we get a court order?” he asks gruffly.

  Locking her fingers with his and squeezing his hand firmly, Olivia makes him look down at her.

  Looking at him through sympathetic eyes, she holds his attention. Something in her hazel eyes calms him. Taking a deep cleansing breath, he lets go of the anger building inside him. “So what are my options?” he asks, turning his attention back to Shannon.

  “At this point, the only option is a blood test. You and Jessica would have to give a sample.”