The Walsh Brothers

by Kate Canterbary

  "Tiel. Hi," he said. He turned to Andy. "Am I supposed to know what's going on here?"

  Shaking her head, she sipped her drink and jabbed her elbow into his ribs. "No, honey, you're fine," she laughed.

  Patrick and I stared at each other, his brow furrowed, and I counted the seconds in my head, just waiting for the right moment to get the fuck out of here. But he wasn't having it. "Is there anyone I should talk to?"

  There were fucking panties in my pocket. These were not the conditions for a business discussion.

  I waved down the hall, impatient. "Larson and DeCosta are under the impression they own the Andover planning and zoning boards, and Ciccannessi suggested he's tearing down some abandoned Cape Annes in Newton next year and building condos. Seems like a tragic idea to me, but that's Shannon's domain, and she's busy with her disappearing act every other weekend."

  "Shannon doesn't have to be the only person who handles shit, and this is the only time she's been away since Labor Day weekend. And we're here," he said, nodding toward Andy. "We can handle it."

  "Right, because the two of you are so fucking chatty," I said.

  "Do you have time to restore some Queen Annes? We can take them off Ciccannessi's hands right now," Patrick said. "I'm the last person who wants to see another condo built, but as far as I can tell, you have enough projects for the next forty-seven years."

  "Matt might have some time coming up," Andy said.

  Tiel's fingers moved down my back and under my suit coat, closing around my shirt. That was when I realized she hadn't said a word since I had her backed against those bookshelves. She had no clue what was going on.

  "Tiel's a conservatory-trained violinist," I said. "And a professor at Berklee."

  "Adjunct," she said.

  Patrick frowned, not understanding the sudden shift in topic, but Andy—thank God for Andy, because Patrick was a socially inept wildebeest—knew where I was going. "What do you teach?"

  "Music therapy." I wanted her to elaborate, to talk about the kids she worked with and places she'd performed and her online viewership, but then I caught the icy glare she was shooting at Andy. She held it another moment, then glanced at me and said, "You're busy here. I'm going to head home."

  "No, you're not," I said. "If you're going anywhere, I'm going with you."

  Her eyes darted to my chest, knowing her panties were stowed in my interior pocket. "Don't worry," she said. "You can catch up with me later."

  She waved to Patrick and Andy, and hurried through the vestibule. There was no way in hell I was letting this turn into a repeat of last weekend. "I don't care what you do about Ciccannessi," I said. "I'm with Tiel tonight."

  "Just you wait a second," Andy said, holding up her palm. "What the hell does that mean? What the hell is going on? Who is that and why does she hate me?"

  "I'll explain on Monday," I said, and jogged through the door and down the gravel driveway to where she was weaving through cars and small snow banks. I caught up to her, but she didn't seem interested in acknowledging me. "I clearly recall telling you not to go anywhere. Get your sweet ass in the car so I can take you home."

  She shook her head and continued down the path. "Go back inside. Do your thing. Buy your houses or whatever."

  "I didn't fuck her," I said, and Tiel froze. "I know you're thinking it, but you're wrong. She's with my brother."

  "But you've thought about it," she said.

  "No, actually, I haven't once thought about it. My brother is in sick, crazy love with her," I said. "I know you think I'm a depraved dog and I'll fuck anything that moves, but I'm not. You're the only woman I've touched since the elevator."

  She hooked a glance over her shoulder. "Really?"

  It was mostly true. All this fucking honesty was more difficult than I anticipated. "Okay, this girl grabbed my dick when I was out last Monday, but nothing happened."

  "Oh my God," she groaned, and continued down the driveway. "I knew it. Why do you have to be such a damn whore?"

  I followed, and caught her around the waist before she reached the main road. "I don't want any of that to matter anymore." I kissed her neck and earlobe, and she slowly relaxed into me. "I want to take you home. I want to undress you. I want to kiss every inch of you. Twice. I want you in my bed, and I want to be inside you."

  She covered my hands with hers and nodded. "So, what? You're finished with hook-ups? You're just over it?"

  "You're too hilarious and gorgeous for me to want anything else," I said, and I meant it.

  "Stop it with the smooth lines," she laughed. "I don't buy it. That shit doesn't work on me, player."

  "Then don't buy it, but know this—I have a pocketful of my own jizz right now, but since I'm fucking obsessed with you, it didn't even cross my mind to make you handle that situation. If I wanted a hook-up, I'd have you on your knees licking it off."

  "Aww," she cooed, and shifted in my arms. "There's the perv I know and love."

  "Never left," I said, and kissed her. "Can I take you home now?"

  "To watch Pitch Perfect, right?"

  There was a time in my life when I understood women, and that period ended when I met Tiel. I didn't know whether this was a trick question or a new form of foreplay, so I nodded and guided her up the driveway. I'd untangle this when I had her behind closed doors. "Of course, Sunshine."

  I started talking the minute the car started, and didn't stop the entire ride to her apartment. There was a furious energy burning inside me, and unloading every random thought was the only way to keep from sliding my hand under her skirt or dragging hers to my crotch.

  I recounted my frustration with several architects, bemoaning their guideline-driven rigidity and refusal to consider the possibility that old techniques might not be the best techniques. I commented on everything from the host's bowtie to the excessively large cheese spread, and passed some judgment on the early use of poinsettias and holly as decoration at the mansion.

  If she only knew the power wielded by those panties.

  The best parking spot was more than half a block from her apartment, but she insisted she didn't want me dropping her off at the door. As we walked in silence, our hands linked, heavy, wet snow started falling. I held out my palm and watched the flakes dissolve against my skin.

  "It isn't quite the same as rain," Tiel said. "But maybe you can kiss me in it anyway."

  Part of me wished she'd forget everything I'd said that sweaty night in September, but another part of me was thrilled I was the one checking off that list. I stopped and she pirouetted—she was so fucking cute when she did that—right into my arms. When my lips met hers, it was a moment that seemed to stretch on and on.

  Until snow started gathering on my head, and dripped all over us.

  We made it back to her apartment before getting entirely soaked. We stared at each other for a moment, shaking out of our coats, damp and breathless, not knowing what came next.

  There was the should come next, the want to come next, and a slightly different avenue altogether.

  And I only knew the different avenue. Every breath was new territory for me, and I was a dissociative blur of stress. I didn't know what the fuck I was doing here, how bed sex worked, how I'd navigate the infusion set situated on either sides of my belly button, or whether this was devolving into another friendly movie night. But my desire was winning, shoving all that shit into the background.

  "You're wet," Tiel announced, fingering my collar. She pulled me into the tiny pink-and-maroon-tiled bathroom that screamed of the 1960s, pushed me against the sink, and rubbed a towel over my hair.

  I lifted an eyebrow as she buffed my chest. I wasn't particularly wet there, but that wasn't her concern. "Don't want you to catch a cold," she murmured.

  My thumb pressed her lips closed, and I said, "There are moments when I look at you, and I can't even comprehend how beautiful you are. You really are pure wild."

  Then my mouth was on Tiel, devouring her, opening her until she was
sighing for more.

  "Thank you," I murmured against her jaw. "For tonight. You were incredible."

  Her hands moved down my vest, touching and unbuttoning as she went, and she offered a quick kiss that transitioned into my tie wrapped around her fist and my tongue in her mouth. "Anytime," she panted.

  "Really? You'd do that again?"

  "Of course," she whispered. "That champagne was far better than the piss I drank on New Year's Eve."

  I passed the towel over her shoulders and arms, then tossed it to the ground. Even though Tiel—and only Tiel—had seen my infusion set before, I hated having that apparatus on display. She caught sight of it the morning after the notorious elevator incident, and a few other times when I stayed the night, but never stared at the glucose sensor or insulin port.

  I could temporarily detach the tubing that connected the insulin port to the pump so that I wasn't chained to the device, but I couldn't yank the infusion set out. She was going to see them and feel them against her skin, and the case could be made for keeping a shirt on. But I didn't want anything between us tonight, and holy fucking shit, there were entire quadrants of my brain going into lockdown over that notion.

  Without breaking her heavy gaze, I unbuttoned my shirt, dropped it, and yanked my gray tank over my head.

  "I have a couple more events over this month and next." I pulled Tiel toward me, locking her between my legs, and I was thanking every higher power that I could name because she didn't even glance at my abdomen. "I understand if you hated it. They are the most insufferable assholes I've ever met, and they seem to think it's fine to slap some spackle on two-hundred-year-old plaster and call it restoration." I sighed against her lips, my eyes closed. "I'll go alone if you really hated it."

  "Oh no," she laughed. "Did you even notice the number of cougars you had drooling all over you? Someone has to block and defend."

  I dragged my lips over the slope of her neck, and pressed my tank between her breasts. "Want to watch that movie now?" I asked. She giggled, nodding, but this wasn't our typical routine. We weren't going to the sofa and we'd be lucky if we saw more than the opening credits. "Put this on." Her fingers closed around the shirt, and I kissed the tender spot beneath her earlobe while I unzipped her dress.

  I stepped back, my hand on my belt buckle, watching Tiel while she clutched my shirt. Conflict was painted all over her face, and despite what happened at the mansion, we were crossing new lines. We'd spent more than two months kissing and snuggling, and the prospect of taking her to bed—an actual bed—loomed so much larger than it had earlier tonight. If she dropped that dress, there weren't many things that could stop me from licking her entire body, and that redrew all the boundaries.

  "Turn around."

  My brow quirked as I fought back a smile. "I ripped off your panties two hours ago. You didn't ask me to turn around for that."

  "That was the champagne's prerogative. Not mine." I didn't exactly remember it that way, but I wasn't going to argue with her. "Turn around."

  I complied, but she didn't account for the bathroom mirror giving me a glorious view of her body or the way she studied the ink on my back once her dress and bra were off. I sighed when her fingers moved over the intricate designs, loving her touch more than I could ever explain.

  "This is so beautiful, Sam."

  As I turned, she caught sight of a fishhook inked on the underside of my arm and rubbed her thumb against it. My eyes swept over her breasts, barely restrained by the tank, and I drew her closer.

  Her thumb passed back and forth over my bicep, at first tracing on the simple shape and then pressing her mouth against it. "I wanted to taste it," she said. "I wanted to feel it under my tongue."

  My fingers skimmed up her face and into her hair, my gaze shifting to her mouth. She rose up on her toes to kiss me, and her lips were slow as they moved against me, her tongue gentle, and it brought forth a slight moan that I couldn't stop. It was one precious kiss, but it seemed bigger than a loud, thrashing orgasm.

  "Let me tell you what I'm thinking," I said, my lips returning to her neck. "We'll watch the movie after. We're going to be lucky if I last three minutes once I get inside you because, let's face it, I've been thinking about this for two months."

  "No, you haven't," she laughed. She traced the Celtic knot wreath on my shoulder, then followed it with her tongue and teeth, and I was dangerously close to coming all over her again. "You say that to undersell yourself and look like a champ when you over-deliver. Your lines don't work on me, sir."

  I dragged my fingers up the backs of her thighs until her entire body shivered, and another version of me would have fucked her here. It would have been quick and hard, and it would be good for us both, but it was too easy to fall back on my old tactics. It scared the shit out of me, but I was undressed and taking this woman to bed tonight.

  "You wore a pink skirt when we went to House of Blues last month, and in the right light, it was see-through. You were wearing dark panties with light stripes, and I didn't spend the night with you because I had to go home and jerk off four times."

  "Four times?" she asked. "Stop making shit up."

  "You still doubt me." I brought her hand to the erection that was drilling into her stomach. "If you don't want this, say it and we'll forget the whole night. I'll leave. We'll go back to seeing shows and watching movies because you're my best friend and I'll do anything for you, but know that I'd very much enjoy fucking you—" I thrust into her hand. "Right now."

  Her hand moved over me, and I gave her a quick nod of encouragement followed by a groan that must have originated in my toes when her fist curled around me. "Don't." She shook her head and pushed my trousers down to my ankles. "Don't leave me."

  I marched her out of the bathroom and down the hall to her bedroom, her adorable ass peeking out from under my shirt, and fuck fuck fuck, that was a look I wanted to remember. Hurriedly, I disconnected the tubing from my infusion set as best I could and dropped the device on her bedside table.

  "Sam?"

  I couldn't keep my hands off her, and they were everywhere from her legs to her belly to her breasts, and as much as that shirt turned me on, it needed to go. It was cute while it lasted. "Yes, Sunshine?"

  "If I let you in," she said, climbing onto her bed as I followed. "Promise not to break anything."

  She was caged beneath me, her hand firm on my cock while I inched the shirt up her sides, but she was suddenly so much more delicate than I'd ever noticed.

  "It's a deal," I whispered. "Just don't break me either, okay?"

  A smile spread across her face, and she inched my boxers down. "Show me where I can touch you."

  I was ready with a sarcastic response, but then I understood what she was asking. The beauty of quick and dirty stand-up sex was that I never needed to fully undress. All these years and I'd survived without taking off all my clothes, never once baring the freakish medical equipment that was never far from my side. Not until Tiel got me drunk and we danced around her apartment. And now.

  There was an urge coursing through my veins to get up, grab my clothes, and get the fuck out, but not enough to actually do it. The tension between wanting Tiel and wanting to protect myself was overwhelming, but the suffocating stress was fading just enough to focus on the woman beneath me. Guiding her hand to the disc on my belly, I said, "This is the blood sugar sensor."

  She nodded, her expression neutral as her finger circled the flat, hard plastic surrounded by a thin adhesive shield that kept it in place. I moved her hand to my other side, another protected disc. "And the pump port is over here today."

  "Does it hurt?"

  "No, but…" I hesitated.

  "It's okay, Sam." Tiel offered a patient smile, and pulled the shirt over her head and there was nothing, nothing between us anymore. All the filthy things I wanted to say to her, the practiced ways I wanted to touch her, all of it drifted away and instinct took over.

  Before this moment, I had no idea what it meant t
o be aroused. My dick got hard plenty, but I'd never felt a longing in my core, my marrow, until Tiel was naked beneath me. She was lush and curved in all the right places, and those tits—there was a reason I'd been enamored with them from the start—filled my hands in the most sumptuous way.

  She wasn't just stunning and sexy, she was fun. She giggled when my stubbly chin scraped between her breasts, down her belly, and between her thighs, and it was the most amazing, lighthearted sound in the world. This wasn't rough, anonymous sex simply for the purpose of scratching the itch. This was real, and just like all things Tiel, that realness called into question everything I once believed about myself.

  "You're gonna have to hold still," I said, my lips grazing between her pelvic bones.

  "And if I don't?" she asked, rising up on her elbows. "What happens then?" There was a challenge in her eyes, a sparkle that made tearing some panties look like amateur hour. "Will you punish me?"

  My eyes dropped to her bald apex. I didn't have much practical experience with kink, but God help me, I was ready to learn. "Yes," I said. "And you'll like it."

  The last time I licked a pussy, I was just old enough to vote. The memory wasn't especially vivid—none of them were—but I knew it wasn't especially good pussy. The instant my tongue reached Tiel's wet center, it was like savoring something I hadn't known I was craving.

  She tasted like heaven itself, and for once, I wasn't concerned with how quickly this would end.

  I wanted it to last, and that was an arresting realization. I wasn't busy mentally walking through my projects or selecting which excuse I'd use to zip up.

  Her incessant wiggling was a concern, and without much thought, my hand swung out and connected with her upper thigh. She gasped, and it was a long, stuttering noise that packed entire sentences into a single sound. In that second, I was half-convinced she was going to kick my ass to the curb.

  But when I looked up, I found her eyes wide and a lusty smile stretched across her face. She fucking loved that. "Oh, you little perv," I said.