A Bad Bit Nice

by Josie Kerr

  Rory scrubbed his hands over his face and let out a stream of expletives that shocked even Em. “It was a long time ago and has absolutely nothing to do with our lives now, okay?”

  “That’s almost exactly word for word what Mick said, which means to me that it has everything to do with your lives now.”

  Rory looked long and hard at Em. “I’m telling you, it has nothing to do with our lives now. It has everything to do with the men that we’ve become, yes, but nothing to do with our current lives. What has Mick told you about his life growing up? Probably not much, right, but what he has, it isn’t pretty, yeah?”

  Em nodded.

  “He had a shite life growing up. Absolutely shite. I had my own issues but I at least didn’t have to worry about getting beaten or having to steal to feed my little brother. My Da had a boxing studio, right, and when he figured out what was going on with Mick, he took him under his wing. Mick didn’t want to fight, but he wanted like hell to defend the people he loved, so he learned.”

  “Mick’s the gentlest man I’ve ever met,” interrupted Em.

  “That’s where you’re wrong, love. Mick’s possibly the most dangerous man I’ve ever encountered. You can’t imagine the amount of rage that’s bottled up inside him. He has a monster that’s eating him from the inside out. Grace was the only person who could really tame that beast, and for two years, it was tamed. Then she died, and that beast roared to life again. Mick keeps it on a short leash, but it’s there. It’s always there. And by attacking you, and me, and even his fiancée, that arsehole Tripp cracked Mick’s control.”

  “But what’s this business about you being a criminal?” Em pushed.

  “It’s something I should regret, but I really don’t. So with my Da being involved with boxers, there were always friendly wagers and whatnot going on, unofficial matches, etcetera. I was removed because I was dancing, not fighting, but I was also compiling statistics on fighters with my Da’s club. I developed a program that determined odds for fights...”

  “I see where this is going – you got caught up in bookmaking, gambling, odds.”

  “Exactly. When I came down here, Da connected me with a fellow he knew back in Dublin. That guy wasn’t as up and up with the bookmaking as Da, and I ended up involved in a racketeering case. I was able to cut a deal for the bigger organizers, I didn’t go to prison, and I was able to continue working with computers, so it all worked out. So that’s me. My criminal life started and finished before I finished grad school.”

  “So what does all this have to do with Mick?”

  “It has absolutely nothing to do with Mick. All the shite that went down with him was back in Boston and when we were still in early high school. We couldn’t even drive.” Em looked at Rory’s worried face, deep in bad memories. “Mick was always around the fight club, yeah? He got a reputation he didn’t deserve, but come on, look at him. When he was actively training with Da, he was a hell of a lot bigger, if you can imagine. He looked mean, and hell, he was mean if anyone tried to hassle me or Grace or anyone he loved. A few times some idiot would try to pressure me through Grace and well, that wasn’t good at all. The one time Mick put a beating to someone, the guy got handsy with Grace and Mick just went berserk, absolutely crazy. He would have killed that guy if three of us hadn’t pulled him off. He maintains to this day that he doesn’t remember anything about attacking that eejit, that all he sees when he tries to remember is red. I believe him. The look in his eyes? He was nowhere near in his right mind. Scariest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. He was 16 then, and that was two years after the bottom dropped out of his life.”

  “I’m still not getting where Tripp comes into all of this.”

  “Tripp’s dad was my lawyer during the whole racketeering fiasco. Tripp’s always been a weasel. During the whole time I was on trial, Tripp was trying to get me to hand over the spread software so he could make money on high school games. When I wouldn’t, he tried to get his father to stop representing me, saying that I was still running stats for criminals. Of course, he was the one was trying to get me to do that crap. His father didn’t believe him, thank God, so everything worked out. But I steer clear when I hear mention of Tripp’s name.”

  “But you hired me, and you knew that I was involved with Tripp and used to work at that firm. Why?”

  Rory looked sheepish then. “Um. I knew you would be good, because the Holbrook Firm only employs the best. I also asked around and learned that Tripp was shitty to you. So I figured if I could poach that jackass’s best analyst AND his girl, hell, two birds with one stone!”

  “I should probably be pissed. But I’m not.” Em shook her head. “And you said that Mick was the asshole.”

  “Oh, I never said I wasn’t an asshole, love.”

  Em bleated with laughter at that, and Rory chuckled.

  “So Tripp knows Mick, too? I got the impression that Mick didn’t know Tripp at all.”

  “I don’t doubt that Mick doesn’t know Tripp from Adam, but I’m also equally certain that Tripp does know Mick because of his association with me. During that whole racketeering thing, Mick had his own shite to sort, and it was heavy shite on its own. I’m ashamed to say that we weren’t the best of friends to each other during that time, but when it was over and done with, we were able to get through it all, stronger.”

  “‘His own shite to sort’ being getting over his wife and children dying in a car accident, right?”

  “So he told you that, at least. Good.”

  “Rory, I didn’t realize she was your sister. I’m so, so sorry.”

  Rory was quiet for a moment. “She was my twin, actually; not just my sister. And thank you, Em. It’s been over 20 years and sometimes I think ‘Oh, I’ve got to tell Grace’ something or other, and I’ll completely forget that she’s not around. It’s very...strange.

  “So it’s too late to say long story short, because that was a hell of a long story, but don’t write Mick off. He completely and certainly knows what he wants, and that’s YOU, Em, but he’s terrified, and at this point, instead of you being taken away by circumstance or stupidity, he’d just rather not have you at all.”

  “I told him exactly that the last time we spoke, that he knew what he wanted but he was too scared to admit it.”

  “And that’s why he needs you. You call him a chickenshit when he’s acting like one. You’re breaking down those brick walls, and let’s face it, between that crap mother of his and Grace’s death, he’s got plenty, both emotional and physical. Mick’s told you about Grace, so you’ve gotten through some of the emotional barriers, but you’ve got to break through those physical barriers, too, because, come on, an adult man needs to get off with someone other than his left hand.”

  Em gasped. “I didn’t think he was the type to kiss and tell! Oh God, now I’m even more embarrassed. I can’t believe he told you! “

  Rory laughed out loud at that outburst. “Mick didn’t, Em, but you just did.”

  “We didn’t have intercourse.”

  “Jaysus. Okay, I am going to stop that right there. Please, never say the word ‘intercourse’ again. I never wanted details about Mick’s love life before because it was with my sister. I am going to adopt the same stance with you. Deal?”

  “Oh my God, deal. I don’t need you knowing particulars about everything in my life.”

  Em rubbed the back of her neck, where a tension headache had settled ever since the run-in with Tripp.

  “So, Rory, what should I do?”

  “Do you care for Mick as much as I think you do?”

  “Yes, I do. I think I might care for him more than I’ve cared for anyone.”

  “Well, then you need to tell him. Stop being stubborn, or ideally, turn that stubbornness on him and don’t let him continue to be a scared eejit.”

  Em teared up and moved to hug Rory and he let her.

  “Okay, girlie. I’ll let you be mushy for 90 more seconds then you need to go home and deal with our lonely
bull.”

  Chapter 27

  Get it together, man.

  Mick chastised himself for losing his temper over the inconsequential jackassery of one of his clients. He had thrown the phone at the wall and now had no telephone and a hole in the living room drywall.

  Actually, he knew the arrogant prick wasn’t the reason he had lost his temper. It was this whole Em situation. He was beginning to suspect that she had gotten further under his skin than he’d realized.

  Except for the creaking pipes of early morning showers, he hadn’t heard his pretty little neighbor at all this week. He knew that Em had been working insane hours, probably to avoid him.

  God, that was arrogant. No wonder she doesn’t want to see me.

  Mick ran his hands over his face and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He hadn’t been this upset in literally years, and this afternoon’s little chat with Em’s mouthy best friend hadn’t helped things one bit.

  He had royally fucked up, and not just with Em. The fact that he hadn’t heard from Rory told him that he probably agreed with Ashley’s label of Mick as an asshole, which meant that Ashley was correct in her assessment. It wouldn’t be the first time that Rory had gone radio silent when he knew that Mick wouldn’t or couldn’t handle a hard truth.

  Mick needed to man up and either stake his claim on Em or cut her loose, for both of their sakes.

  Mick pulled at his hair. Fuck.

  So deep in his pity party/angst session, Mick didn’t hear the knock on the door. The sound of Em’s voice was what finally broke through his fog.

  “Mick, you asshat, open the fucking door! I know you’re in there. I can hear you muttering to yourself and thrashing around.”

  Still angry, though he didn’t know if it was at himself, at Em, at Tripp, or at anyone and everyone that had ever let him down, Mick tore the door open.

  “What?” He was breathing hard, a wild look in his eyes. His hair looked like a rat’s nest. Em, not waiting for an invitation to come in, stepped through the door.

  “Well?” she asked, impatiently tapping her foot.

  Mick was stunned into silence at the ferocious look on her face. “Well what?”

  Em stepped into him, nose to nose, or rather, nose to chest because of their height difference. She looked up at him with narrowed eyes, and poked her index finger into his chest. “Well, are you going to kiss me or not? Because I’ve had just about enough waiting around for you to quit being a chickenshit. I know it’s only been a week or so, but goddammit, you’re super smart, crazy caring, and hot like fire and I think I could love you, so you need to kiss me or tell me to utterly and completely fuck off. Either way, put me out of my misery.”

  Mick laughed out loud at her fierceness.

  “You think this is funny, big man? Don’t you dare push me, Michael Brennan! You do not want to see me angry!” She poked at his chest again.

  “‘Michael Brennan?’ Who are you, Rory’s Mam?”

  “Michael…” Em growled.

  Mick grinned widely, then backed Em into the wall, lifting her up where they were eye-to-eye. Em threw her arms around his neck and wrapped her legs around his waist.

  “Michael?” she repeated, more gently and softly this time, still nose to nose with him. She couldn’t resist running her fingers through his beard.

  “Em, love, I am going to kiss you so thoroughly that you won’t know your name. I’m going to kiss you on your mouth and on your neck, and eat your sweet cunt until you’re breathless with need.” Em gasped at Mick’s dirty mouth. Oh my God, that’s hot. “I’m going to kiss those beautiful breasts, and that luscious ass, and then I’m going do it all over again.”

  “Less talking, more kissing, Michael.”

  “B’y, I love it when you’re bossy.”

  “You haven’t kissed me yet.”

  “Stop yer yammering and I will.”

  She did and he did.

  With her back still to the wall, Em ground her hips into Mick with a desperation she had never experienced before. Her lips were locked with Mick’s, their tongues lashing furiously. Mick moved his hot mouth to her neck and suckled it. Em groaned his name and ground her hips harder against him. He pulled his head away from her neck and looked into her eyes.

  “What’s your name?”

  Em frowned at the interruption. What the actual fuck? “Em. Ermengarde.”

  “Hm. I don’t seem to be doing my job as effectively as promised.” He nibbled on her ear, teasing it with his tongue.

  Em threw her head back, giving Mick more access to her lovely throat. He inhaled her scent deeply. He pushed her up further along the wall so he could run his nose along her cleavage.

  “God, you smell so fucking good.”

  He peppered kisses along the swell of her ample bosom. She pulled his face closer, grazing his ear with her teeth. Freeing one hand from her behind, he untied the bow at her collar and unbuttoned her blouse. He ran his tongue along the scalloped edge of her bra, then lightly bit at a swollen nipple that was trying to push through the lace.

  He moved his hand down between them, pressing his knuckle against that hot space between her legs. She jerked against him, opening her eyes wide and emitting a surprised “Oh!” He chuckled and kissed her deeply. They stared into each other’s eyes, pressed tightly to one another. He ground his hip into her and bit her neck.

  “Oh, fuck me,” she moaned.

  “Hm, not quite yet, girlie. I haven’t tasted you.” He dragged his tongue up the side of her neck.

  Mick moved away from the wall, carrying her, his hands cradling her bottom, kissing her all the while. He lowered her onto the couch and kneeled on the floor before her as he continued to kiss her while he undid the button and zipper of her jeans. He ran his thumbs along the soft skin of her belly, grazing the top of her panties. Moving his hands to her hips, Mick slid his fingers against the soft skin there while their tongues continued their exploration.

  He eased her jeans over her hips and removed them. He nuzzled his face against her leg, kissing her from one knee up to her panties and the hot space between her legs, and then down to the other knee. He fluttered his fingers over her hot sex, smiling at the wetness seeping through her panties. He placed his nose in her apex and inhaled deeply. He groaned with desire and kissed her through the thin material.

  “Em, these are totally sexy, but they have got to come off.” He pulled her panties over her hips and propped a pillow behind her back, then he placed a soft kiss on her now unclothed mound.

  “God, I am so glad that you’re not bare.” He dipped his nose between her folds and inhaled deeply. “Your curls trap your scent and taste so much better.”

  He pulled one of her legs over his shoulder and again buried his face in her pussy. He thrust his tongue into her core and took long, languorous licks between her folds. He pressed his nose against her sensitive nub, rubbing it gently.

  “God, you’re so wet for me.” He invaded her with his tongue again.

  When his thick middle finger found its way into her center, Em finally made a sound, purring with pleasure, arching her back into the hardness of Mick’s fingering. He slipped a second finger inside her and curled them in a beckoning motion, hitting her special spot and causing her hips to buck. Mick curled his fingers again and clamped his mouth on her clitoris and sucked and teased with his tongue. He relentlessly fucked her with his fingers and mouth, his free hand alternately gripping her hip or pinching her nipple.

  Breathing hard, Em opened her eyes to gaze at the gorgeous man who was hard at work between her legs. She gripped his head in her hands, running her fingers through his hair and gently tugged his head away from her softness. She ran her fingers over his eyebrows and down his cheeks, lingering over the pouty bottom lip the peeked through his thick beard. Mick’s fingers continued to stroke inside her while her hips ground into them. He rubbed his bearded jaw against the sensitive skin of her inner thigh and she keened with pleasure. His eyes locked on
hers, Mick returned his mouth to her folds.

  “God, I love looking at you,” she gasped.

  Mick chuckled and slipped a third finger inside, stretching her softness around their girth. Em’s breathing sped up, shallowing as she begged Mick to fuck her.

  “I want to come on my face and fingers first, Em. I’ve got to taste your climax.” He slid three fingers in and out and pressed his other hand against her pubis, palming her nub and circling it with his tongue. Em remembered the girth of that beautiful cock of his and was thankful that she had some preparation.

  She groaned with need and Mick asked, “Are you ready?” his words rumbling against her softness. Em, wild-eyed with lust, licked her lips and nodded.

  Mick smiled and said, “Well then, come on,” as he curled his fingers and thrust his tongue inside her. She exploded, crying his name. Her pussy throbbed against his mouth and gripped his fingers.

  After, he sweetly kissed her softness, resting his face against her mound. He kissed the swirl of tattoos that danced around her hips. “You’re just full of surprises, Em. I love these. So, so beautiful.”

  He felt a tug on his hair. “I need to kiss your mouth, Michael.” He rose up on his knees and kissed her deeply. She could taste and smell herself on his tongue and in his beard.

  Smiling shyly, she petted his face. He grinned, then picked her up off the couch and threw her over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold. She giggled and wiggled, prompting him to lightly smack her bare ass and kiss her naked hip while stroking her exposed, wet softness, resulting in more giggling and wiggling. He kicked his bedroom door open and tossed her on his bed.

  “Janey Mac, b’y, but you’re a bad bit nice.”

  Em wasn’t exactly sure what that meant, but seeing Mick’s look of appreciation, she assumed it was a compliment. She smiled shyly, but raised her knees and spread her legs for Mick to get a better view.

  Em watched him, her own eyes roaming over lean body, lingering on the very apparent tenting of his jeans. “And you’re definitely overdressed.”