Her eyes, although angry, flashed with hurt. He took a step toward her with every intention of making this right. Panic clawed at his throat as regret smothered him. It should have never happened like this. He regretted taking her virginity, but he regretted upsetting her even more.
She pulled away as if he had the bubonic plague and clutched the comforter to her chest. “Leave. Now,” she said through clenched teeth.
She was barely hanging on. He could see it. And there wasn’t a thing he could say or do that would make her feel better. Not at the moment.
He grabbed his underwear and pants from the floor. “You want your space? Fine. But we’re not done—”
“Oh, we’re done, all right. You can take that to the fucking bank.” Her words were forceful, but her voice was laced with pain.
He stared at her for a brief moment, willing her to understand. He hated to see her hurt. He hated that he’d hurt her in any way.
“Darcy…” he tried.
She closed her eyes. “Just go.”
With one last beseeching look, he left, closing the bedroom door softly behind him.
Chapter 13
Whiskey. The water of life.
Darcy stared blindly at the squat glass tumbler beside her. Its warm, burnished allure mesmerized her. The gold contrasted with the black lacquered finish of the side table it sat on. What looked to taste like a butterscotch kiss would sit dormant in your mouth until you swallowed. Then it would scorch a flaming path down into your belly and warm you instantly from the inside out.
Some people cut it with water or soda. Others served it on the rocks. Darcy drank it neat.
She’d tried her first sip of whiskey when she was six years old. Oftentimes, the dregs of a whiskey bottle were all that she’d been able to find to drink in their dingy apartment. One benefit of starting early was she’d built up one hell of a tolerance.
Now she drank it not because it gave her the warm-fuzzy nostalgia of a wonderful childhood but because, with every taste, she was reminded of her willpower. Her fortitude. Every sip represented a promise that she would never be like her parents. She assumed they’d started their chemical dependency with spirits before it’d grown to darker vices like cocaine and heroin. She was nothing like them and never would be.
She tested that theory this evening. Pushing it to see if she had any weaknesses in her fortifications. Yet she was six fingers in and her head remained as clear as a freshly cleaned crystal glass.
Just this once she wished the whiskey would pull her down into its smooth, tawny depths.
That’s how Quinn found her when she’d come through the door of their dimly lit apartment: sitting on the sofa, wrapped in her oversized purple terry cloth robe, fixated on a damn glass of whiskey like it was a talisman.
“Hey,” her roommate called to her quietly as she closed the door. Quinn pulled off her coat and hung it in the closet before joining Darcy in the living room.
“Hey.”
Darcy’s voice rang loudly to her own ears. It was the first time she’d spoken since Sean had left about an hour earlier.
She’d sat in bed for what seemed like years, clutching the covers to her naked body. A body that still carried his scent.
She was somewhere between complete bewilderment and elation, remembering the way his mouth had tasted her skin and his hands had caressed her body. Reality exceeded far beyond anything her imagination could have conjured.
His reaction had shocked her. She didn’t know what had possessed him to kiss her, but she wasn’t going to complain. For the rest of her life, she’d remember the way his darkened eyes had tracked her as he’d stalked toward her, pinning her up against the closet door right before his lips closed over hers.
Even through her shirt, the first touch of his palm on her breast had seared her skin. Her mind had stalled out like a vinyl record with a skip. Thank goodness her body had surged to autopilot, knowing exactly what it’d wanted.
She remembered she couldn’t get close enough. That she’d wanted to crawl inside of him.
When she’d felt his erection press up against her stomach, the floor had fallen out from under her.
He’d slayed her with the most intense orgasm she’d ever had. It had blazed through her like a forest fire.
Then there he was, leaning over her in all his masculine glory. His powerful frame poised above her, his darkened lustful eyes looking deep into her soul.
If she had a remote control, that’s where she’d have paused it. With his corded arms and broad chest trembling with desire. She’d freeze that look on his face, which said he’d needed her more than he needed his next breath.
It had taken only a second for him to thrust inside of her, but in that second, she’d changed forever.
So long, virginity.
If only she could stop there and forget what had happened next. The colossal fuckup.
If only she knew what she’d done wrong.
She watched as her roommate rounded the couch to stand in front of her. It felt as if the loss of Darcy’s innocence should be stamped on her forehead for the whole world to see.
Darcy Owens: Hymenless.
Still dressed in her jeans and green V-neck long-sleeve shirt that she’d worn earlier to dinner, Quinn was the epitome of class. With her long golden-brown hair, she was the stereotypical girl next door. She was sweet and kind. The type of girl whom guys ended up taking home to their mothers. She made a man like Ewan McKenna melt and worship the ground she walked on. Those were some serious accolades.
In comparison, Darcy was cynical and crass. She drank like she had gills, and she decorated her vocabulary with colorful cuss words that would make a sailor blush. Her close friends might describe her as kind, but no one would ever consider her sweet.
She did have the curvy figure a few guys preferred. So it wasn’t unbelievable that some men would find her attractive. It was, however, unbelievable that Sean did. Or that he’d seemed to earlier. Then again, Sean probably liked all women as long as they had tits and ass.
Quinn stared hard at her. “Tell me everything. What happened after I left?”
Where do I even begin?
With a big inhale, Darcy started at the beginning. When she got to the part in her story when Sean kissed her, Quinn’s eyes widened in surprise. When she got to the part when they started taking off each other’s clothes, Quinn’s mouth gaped open. Then when Darcy finished with the fact that they’d slept together, her roommate’s knees finally gave out, and she slumped down in the armchair beside the sofa.
“Holy fuck,” she whispered.
Hearing the F-word from Quinn was like seeing a Sasquatch walk through the backyard.
Darcy scoffed. “It was anything but holy, I can assure you.”
“And he left? Why did he leave?”
“Because I asked him to.”
She’d kicked him out actually. As far as she was concerned, he couldn’t have left quickly enough.
“Why? Did he hurt you? Are you okay?”
“Christ, of course I’m not okay!” Darcy replied, hysteria finally rearing its ugly head. “I just had sex with Sean, and it was the worst two minutes of my life!”
Quinn’s head snapped back like she’d been slapped.
“Two minutes? That’s it?”
“Oh, God. Please, Quinn. It’s bad enough I have to remember what happened. Don’t make me talk about this anymore. He showed up, we made out like teenagers, he made me come with just the touch of his hand, and I turned out to be the worst lay of his life. The end.”
“I can’t imagine you were his worst lay. If he only lasted two minutes—”
“Trust me. I fucked it up.”
“Okay, wait a minute,” Quinn said, scooting to the edge of her chair. “Tell me exactly what happened. He pushed inside of you and then what?”
Darcy shrugged. “He just stopped.”
“Did he say anything?”
“I can’t really remember. I think he
told me not to move.”
“And did you move?”
“I might have. Probably. I didn’t realize he was just going to shove his dick right in there. It stung, and I was uncomfortable.”
“What did you think he was going to do? Draw figure eights with it?” Quinn asked incredulously.
Darcy narrowed her eyes at her roommate. “You know what I mean.”
“So he didn’t go slow?”
“No. One thrust, and he was tearing my vagina in half.”
Quinn blinked in disbelief. “Why would he do that? It doesn’t seem like Sean to be so careless. Maybe he thought if he pushed in quickly, the pain would be over sooner?”
Darcy exhaled and shrugged, taking a sip of her whiskey.
Quinn shook her head. “So he pushed in, stopped, asked you not to move, you moved, then what?”
“Stop with the fucking twenty questions already.” Darcy leaned farther against the back of the couch. Her head started to throb from overuse.
“What kind of sounds was he making?” Even in the dim light, she could see Quinn’s faint blush grow darker with each intimate question.
“I can’t remember.”
“What did he say afterwards?”
“Jesus, I wish I had a fucking video camera set up so you could just replay the whole horrible scene. All I remember is he told me it was interesting.”
Quinn made a face. “Interesting?”
“Yeah, interesting. Isn’t that lovely? Not great, not mind-blowing. Interesting. God, I must be defective.”
Darcy felt cold despair cloud her mind as total mortification consumed her.
“It doesn’t have to be interesting in a bad way. It could be interesting in a good way.”
Darcy didn’t care what Quinn said, she knew that wasn’t the case. It was like when she ate one of Quinn’s experiments in the kitchen and it didn’t quite turn out like expected. She’d chew slowly, trying to figure out the fastest way to get the taste out of her mouth. When she finally did swallow it, she’d nod and tell her roommate it was interesting.
He’d given her the most exquisite orgasm ever and she’d given him nothing. Just interesting sex.
“Wait. Did you tell him you were a virgin beforehand?”
Darcy shook her head.
“Darcy! No wonder he pushed right in! He didn’t know he was going to hurt you.”
Darcy rolled her eyes. What the fuck was the big deal? Was she supposed to have Sean sign a disclaimer beforehand acknowledging that he was about to fuck a virgin?
“I never got the chance to tell him.”
“You should have told him.”
“Regardless of whether he knew or not, it still doesn’t change the fact that I fucked it up somehow.”
“Sex isn’t always great the first time, but that doesn’t mean it can’t get better.”
Darcy wasn’t so sure of that. And let’s say she could become at least mediocre at sex. It still wouldn’t change the fact that Sean would never want to have mediocre sex with Darcy when he could be having hot, mind-numbing sex with someone else.
“I’m starting to sound like a broken record, but you’ll have to talk to him about this.”
Quinn’s worried face watched Darcy finish the last of her whiskey. When Darcy didn’t reply, her roommate sighed.
“If you think he’s just going to forget about this, you’re crazy.”
Darcy uncurled her legs from under her and stood up on shaky knees. “Who died and made you the Sean McKenna fan club president?”
“All I’m saying is his reaction might just surprise you.”
Darcy walked toward the kitchen with her empty glass. She could feel the dull ache between her legs and inside her lower abdomen. She put her glass in the dishwasher and looked out their small kitchen window into the still darkness.
She hadn’t wanted to shower because she didn’t want to wash his scent off her skin. She was reluctant to brush her teeth because when she closed her eyes she could still taste him on her tongue. Yet if there was a way she could scrub her mind with a wire brush to get rid of the embarrassment of being a complete failure, she would.
Sean had shown up there tonight to talk things out. But he’d left with her virginity.
Yeah, he was full of surprises, all right.
Chapter 14
Sean pushed open the door to Katie’s Pub with his shoulder, shielding his eyes from the steady downpour pelting any unlucky bastard who happened to be outside. Drenched to the bone, he ran his hands through his hair, flinging droplets all over the entryway. It didn’t take him long to spot his cousin behind the bar, where he always was.
Ewan’s hair had grown out a few inches, and he had a James Dean thing going on this evening. His black T-shirt and pants matched his jet-black hair, which was pushed back off his square forehead. He’d been born with a furrow etched into his roguish good looks like he was constantly considering the world’s most puzzling mysteries. He intimidated most of the inhabitants of Ballagh with his stern expressions and serious nature, but if they knew him as well as Sean did, they’d know that he wasn’t so frightening.
Sean trudged over to the closest stool, feeling his wet socks slosh inside his leather work boots.
The lights in the pub seemed dimmer than normal. The yellow flames in the hearth blazed shockingly bright against the gloom of the front windows. The black clouds outside made the night darker.
They matched his mood.
Ewan took one look at Sean and threw a dry towel in his direction while he finished filling a drink order. Sean wiped the towel over his face and the back of his neck. He rubbed the pebbled fabric so hard against his skin it burned.
Every time he closed his eyes he saw Darcy.
Not the Darcy who had whimpered and moaned with pleasure. He saw the scorned Darcy who had clutched her comforter to her chest like a life preserver.
Fuck.
Sean rapped his knuckles on the wooden bar top to the same rhythm he bounced his right leg on the lower rung of the stool. He’d reluctantly left Darcy’s apartment and had driven straight here. God, he felt like a little girl, but if he didn’t talk to someone about this, he was going to combust.
Ewan cleared his throat, sliding a pint of beer in front of Sean. Sean took the glass and chugged half of the ale, letting the glass pound down on the bar a little harder than intended.
Ewan leaned on his forearms and watched him with steady eyes. Sean took another pull of his beer, trying to figure out how he wanted to start this. He leveled his gaze on his cousin.
“I fucked up.”
Ewan casually raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. “You don’t say?”
His lack of surprise irritated Sean.
“No, this time I really fucked up.”
Ewan sighed and waited for Sean to continue.
“I slept with Darcy.”
There. Chew on that, you emotionless bastard.
To Sean’s further irritation, Ewan just shook his head and walked toward the middle of the bar. He poured another pint, walked back, and put it next to Sean’s near-empty glass.
Sean forced out an agonized exhale and pressed his fingers to his temples. “God, I don’t even know how it happened. One minute we were talking, and the next minute we were taking each other’s clothes off.”
“I take it Darcy was okay with all of this?”
“I didn’t force her, for Christ’s sake. Jesus, Ewan. What the fuck?”
Ewan’s face sharpened as he glared back at Sean. “I wasn’t implying you raped her, you asshole. I was simply asking what Darcy thought of all this.”
“Fuck if I know.” Sean threw his hands up. “She liked it, and then afterwards it seemed like she didn’t.”
“Keep your voice down,” Ewan warned.
Sean looked around the pub for the first time since he’d sat down. It wasn’t crowded since it was a weeknight. Maybe the monsoon outside was helping to keep people tucked up inside their warm houses.
> “All I know is,” Sean continued, this time in a softer voice, “she flipped out on me last night. She told me she loved me, and before I could respond, she split. I mean, can you believe that?”
Ewan’s shrug indicated it wasn’t so unbelievable.
“It doesn’t surprise you that Darcy loves me?”
“Not really.”
“Why?”
“Because I always thought she might.”
Sean stared back at him with his mouth open.
“It’s plain enough to see,” Ewan explained. “She watches you when you aren’t looking. Her tongue gets sharper when you’re around. Her smile is different when she smiles at you. I figured she liked you.”
His mind skipped through various past encounters with Darcy.
He admitted he’d always tried to make her smile. In fact, it had started off as a challenge because she hardly ever smiled. It was no wonder considering the hell she’d lived through when she was younger.
He’d usually earn a grin, but if he was really fortunate, he’d coax a laugh out of her.
A laugh from Darcy was like a gold medal. And if that was something she only awarded to him, he was damn lucky.
He’d never noticed her watching him before, but that wasn’t to say she didn’t. Darcy’s tongue was always sharp, wasn’t it? Yet Ewan might’ve been right. Provoking Darcy was as easy for Sean as basic arithmetic.
“Why am I the last to know these things?”
“Not my fault you can’t pick up on this shit.”
“Fuck me.”
Sean turned his head, staring blindly into the open room. Had it really been that obvious? Did everyone else know but him?
“In fact, there was a time I thought maybe the two of you had something going on,” Ewan said.
Sean’s head snapped back to his cousin in surprise. “What gave you that idea?”
“You two gravitate toward each other like a moth to a flame. If she doesn’t seek you out at a party, you find her first.”
“We’re friends. We like hanging out. That doesn’t mean anything.”
Does it?
“I’ve never seen a man try to monopolize a woman’s attention the way you do hers.”
Not In My Wildest Dreams (McKenna Series Book 2) Page 16