Binding 13: Boys of Tommen #1

by Chloe Walsh

  And it was all his fault.

  A temporary slip in sanity caused me to lean forward a press a kiss to his thigh.

  The sound that tore from Johnny's chest was a pained, guttural groan.

  "Shannon, please–"

  I kissed him again.

  "Fuck," he grunted, legs shaking now. "I can't…"

  The third time I kissed him, he fisted my hair and pulled my face to his.

  "Shannon," Johnny groaned, sounding both pained and breathless, as he gently pressed his forehead to mine. "We can't –"

  I silenced whatever he was about to say by putting my lips on his.

  And just like before, he turned to stone.

  "I'm sorry," I strangled out, pulling back. "I did it again."

  "It's okay," he told me, breathing hard just like before.

  "No, no, no," I strangled out as I scrambled to my feet and lunged for the door. "You're injured! You're waiting to go to the hospital for Christ's sake, and I just – oh god! I am so sorry."

  "Shannon, wait," Johnny called out as he scrambled for his clutch. "Wait!"

  I didn’t wait.

  Instead, I did what I should have done earlier.

  I hightailed it away from Johnny Kavanagh.

  Hurrying over to the door, I yanked it open.

  It opened about four inches before slamming shut again – the palm pressed against it the reason- no doubt.

  "Wait," he commanded, standing so close to me that I could feel his chest rising and falling against my neck.

  With my heart hammering in my chest, I swung around and stared up at Johnny as he caged me in with his big body.

  "I'm so sorry," I whispered, unable to tear my eyes off his. "I just…I…" Shaking my head, I exhaled a ragged breath and whispered, "I shouldn’t have done that."

  He shook his head and used his crutch to step closer, pressing his body flush against mine.

  "Me, too," he replied gruffly, gaze flickering from my eyes to my mouth.

  "Why are you sorry?" I breathed, trembling from head to toe.

  He cupped my cheek with his free hand and tilted my chin up.

  "Because I shouldn’t do this," he whispered.

  And then he kissed me.

  The moment his lips crushed against mine, a fierce blast of heat coursed through my body, igniting a delicious, burning ache in my belly.

  Unable to think straight, let alone breathe, I did the only thing I could do given the circumstance: I reached up and grabbed his forearms and kissed him back.

  This was my first real kiss, minus the disaster in his bedroom, and I had no idea what I was doing.

  I only knew that I never wanted him to stop.

  When I felt one of his hands trail down my arm and settle on my hip, I lost it.

  I completely and utterly took leave of my senses.

  Shivering uncontrollably, I let my back sag against the doorframe as my hips thrust closer to him.

  I was drowning in my feelings as they crashed through me like a wrecking ball.

  The more he kissed me, the more my body trembled uncontrollably.

  The more I sought.

  I moaned into his mouth when I felt the tip of his tongue trace against my bottom lip.

  Realizing he was waiting for me to open my mouth for him, I parted my lips and held my breath when I felt his tongue slip inside my mouth.

  Gently, he touched his tongue against mine in slow, patient strokes.

  Oh, God.

  Oh, sweet baby Jesus.

  I was kissing Johnny Kavanagh.

  Johnny Kavanagh was kissing me back.

  He had his tongue in my mouth, his hand in my hair, and my heart in his pocket.

  This was…

  This was…

  Everything I had never expected and more.

  Uncertain, I tentatively snaked my tongue out and stroked his.

  Johnny rewarded me with a low, approving growl that came from somewhere deep within his chest.

  Trembling, I wrapped my arms around his waist and tugged him closer to me, unsure of what I was doing, but knowing that my body needed more.

  My confidence grew with every brush of our lips, with every massaging duel of our tongues, until I was purring in his arms, rocking my body against him impatiently, as we moved clumsily to the closest bench.

  How was this happening?

  Why was this happening?

  I didn’t know.

  I didn’t know and I didn’t care.

  Johnny staggered backwards and sank down hard on the wooden bench.

  The impact caused a grunt of pain to rip from his chest, but he never took his lips off mine as he tossed his crutch away and pulled me between his legs.

  His hands moved from my face to my waist, clamping down hard, and the move caused a moan to tear from my throat.

  He responded to my small gasp of surprised pleasure with a low growl of approval of his own.

  "Are you okay?" I breathed against his lips as I held onto his shoulders.

  "Just keep kissing me," he strangled out. "I want you so much."

  I shivered violently. "You do?"

  "So fucking much," he groaned against my lips, and then his hands were on my thighs, his fingers hiking my fitted skirt up to pool at my hips before pulling me down on his lap, encouraging me to straddle him.

  Conscious of his injury, I hitched one thigh on either side of him and hovered over his lap, keeping my weight off him, as I cupped his beautiful face between my small hands and kissed him back with everything I had in me.

  Johnny shivered into my touch, but I didn’t pull back.

  I couldn’t help myself.

  I wanted to touch his face.

  I wanted to touch him everywhere.

  "Am I doing it right?" I breathed against his lips, feeling achingly aware of my inexperience.

  "More than right," he assured me, claiming my mouth once again.

  "This is my first kiss," I moaned against his lips.

  "You're fucking perfect," he assured me, filling my mouth with his hot tongue.

  Falling back into a deep, drugging kiss, I allowed myself to relax and absorb the sensations jolting through me.

  He felt so good.

  His lips were so soft.

  His body was so hard.

  His smelled so nice.

  He tasted so sweet.

  I was drowning in feelings.

  Unable to stop myself, I snaked a hand through his wet hair and tugged.

  He rewarded my bravery with a low growl as he clamped his hands on my hips and dragged me down on his lap at the same time he thrust his hips upwards.

  Gasping into his mouth, I went willingly, too consumed in the intoxicatingly delicious feel of his body pressed against mine to contemplate that this could be hurting him.

  He was clearly enjoying this.

  I could feel his enjoyment as he strained against me.

  Nestling between my legs, Johnny didn’t push for more.

  Instead, he continued to kiss me with hot, swiping flicks of his tongue, ruining me with his mouth alone.

  He was making me hot and achy all over.

  Losing the run of myself, and chasing pressure, I mewled into his mouth and sank down hard on his lap.

  Johnny grunted into my mouth and I froze, suddenly aware of his injury.

  "Am I hurting you?" I asked against his lips.

  "Only if you stop." He knotted his hand in the back of my hair and deepened the kiss.

  I think I'm in love with you.

  I think I'm falling.

  Please don’t hurt me.

  Please don’t ever hurt me.

  My mind was racing with crazed, lust-induced thoughts all directed at Johnny.

  I couldn’t seem to stop myself from falling over the edge of emotional suicide.

  I was starving for him.

  Ravenous.

  I needed this boy.

  I was desperate for him.

  I ached and I yearned and I
admitted that now, with an open mind and a vulnerable heart.

  The more I rocked against him, the more he encouraged me to move, pulling on my hips, grinding our bodies together.

  I was so caught up in our kiss that I didn’t hear the changing room door open and close, and I was only vaguely aware of someone clearing their throat.

  It was only when Coach Mulcahy said, "I see you're feeling better," that reality came crashing down on me with a tremendous bang.

  "Fuck," Johnny groaned into my mouth.

  Startled, I broke the kiss and tried to scramble off Johnny's lap.

  Tried being the appropriate word because Johnny caught ahold of my hand and pulled me back to him.

  When he reached down and adjusted my skirt, pushing it back down, I almost died on the mortal spot.

  "Inappropriate behavior on school grounds, Kavanagh," Coach Mulcahy snapped, casting glaring looks at both of us. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

  My gaze landed on the two amused looking paramedics standing behind Coach, and I whimpered loudly.

  "We're not on school grounds, Sir," Johnny replied calmly as he pulled me down to sit beside him.

  "You're on school time," Coach barked.

  "Actually, we're not," Johnny countered, taking my hand in his.

  I was incredibly grateful for his touch in this moment.

  It was grounding and steadying and stopped me from anxious puking.

  Something I was known for doing.

  "It's half nine at night," Johnny added with a shrug. "Well past school hours."

  "It's inappropriate behavior," Coach bellowed, turning a furious glare on us. "Don’t give me technicalities. You're both under eighteen." Clearly furious, he added, "I'll have to report this to Mr. Twomey and your parents."

  "Oh, god," I strangled out, panicked. "Please don’t tell."

  "A kiss?" Johnny sneered, tightening his hold on my trembling hand. "You're going to report a fucking kiss?" He laughed humorlessly. "Take a walk down the aisle of that bus, Coach. Pretty sure you'll find worse than kissing going on."

  "You are a minor student who was alone with a fellow minor student in a dressing room," the teacher replied hotly. "In an extremely compromising position." Coach turned to me then. "Is that the kind of reputation you want starting off at Tommen, Miss Lynch?" he demanded. "Do you want to be one of those girls?"

  Tears pricked my eyes and I quickly shook my head.

  "Hey – don’t talk to her like that," Johnny snapped, leaning forward, shielding me from Mr. Mulcahy's view.

  "Come on, Johnny!" Coach grumbled impatiently. "Think about how this looks."

  "I don’t give a fuck how it looks," Johnny snarled. He jerked to his feet only to quickly stagger backwards and collapse on the bench with a pained grunt. "You don’t talk about her like that," he bit out, nostrils flaring. "No one talks about her like that."

  "Look at yourself!" Coach demanded, pointing to Johnny's lower half. "Look at the condition you're in."

  Johnny didn’t look, but I did.

  I looked and let out a strangled gasp at the sight.

  Blood was oozing from where the Royce player had ripped him open with his boot studs.

  "Johnny," I croaked out, reaching for his hand again.

  Oh god, his hand was shaking.

  I turned to look at him.

  Johnny's entire body was shaking.

  His face was contorted in pain.

  He was rattling from head to toe.

  "You’re injured, kid," Coach snapped. "Do you hear me? Your body is falling apart and you're in here doing the fucking eejit with a girl!"

  "Alright, everyone just calm down," the male paramedic ordered as he marched over to Johnny and knelt in front of him. "What have we got here, son?"

  "I already told the doctor," Johnny bit out, shaking violently now.

  "Humor me," the paramedic replied.

  "Torn adductor." Exhaling a ragged breath, Johnny slumped back and closed his eyes. "I had surgery on the 20th of December," he explained, sounding thoroughly defeated. "It hasn’t healed."

  "Because he hasn’t given his body a chance to heal," Coach interjected. "His teammate and friend told me that this has been an ongoing issue he's been hiding from us."

  "Like you give a shite," Johnny snarled, eyes flashing with fury. "You have your trophies and your final secured, don’t ya?"

  "Of course, I give a shit, you little bollox," Coach snapped. "I give a lot of shits about you, though why is beyond me!"

  "We had a report that you were knocked unconscious for several minutes during a rugby match," the other paramedic asked, taking down notes.

  "From pain," Johnny admitted gruffly. "There was no head injury."

  "Yet," Coach bit out. "There's time for that, yet."

  "Fucking try it," Johnny grumbled dejectedly. His head lolled slightly and he snapped his head back up, still trembling.

  "Hey – hey, it's okay," I whispered, cupping his face to steady him. "You're okay."

  He shook his head again, eyes looking slightly glazed before finding focus on my face.

  "I'm sorry," he croaked out, voice slurring a little.

  "For what?"

  "For not –" He closed his eyes and exhaled a pained groan, "kissing you back that night."

  "Don’t worry about it," I whispered, clutching his face with my hands. "Don’t even think about it right now, okay?"

  "I wanted to," he grunted, clenching his eyes shut as a huge shiver rolled through his body. "I promise."

  "Johnny, it's okay," I croaked out, blinking the tears away.

  He looked like he was in so much pain, I could hardly take it.

  "He needs everything checked over," Coach barked then, tone laced with concern. "Blood work. X-rays. Scans. Whatever he tells you, ignore it. He's a gobby little shit who won't tell you when there's a problem."

  "Understood," the female paramedic with the clipboard mused.

  "He's under contract with the Irish Rugby Academy," Coach added, scrubbing his face with his hand. "All of his notes are in Cork, but he needs to be wrapped in cotton wool –"

  "Understood," the male paramedic replied. Turning to Johnny, he winked. "You're not the first academy pup I've treated."

  "Maybe your girlfriend can step outside, Johnny," the female paramedic suggested.

  Johnny's response to her request was to tighten his hold on my hand.

  God, he was shaking so bad my whole body was vibrating from the contact.

  "Yes." Coach nodded and turned his attention to me. "Miss Lynch, I suggest you go take your seat on the bus," Coach barked, dismissing me.

  "Are you okay?" I asked, turning to look at Johnny.

  He didn’t look okay.

  He looked like a cornered animal.

  Wounded and desperate.

  He stared at me for the longest moment, blue eyes churning with anxiety, before nodding in resignation and releasing my hand.

  "I can stay?" I whispered, unsure whether leaving him was the right thing to do. "Or wait outside?"

  It didn’t feel okay or right to leave him.

  It felt all wrong actually.

  "I'll be okay," Johnny told me, giving me a wink before grunting in pain when the paramedic prodded his thigh. "Fuck!"

  "Out, Miss Lynch," Coach barked, pushing me towards the door.

  "Can I go with him?" I heard myself ask. "Please?"

  "You can go back to the bus like I told you," he ordered. "Now out!"

  Shame, guilt, and responsibility filled my body as I moved for the door.

  "Bye, Johnny," I whispered, hovering in the doorway, fighting back the urge to run back to him.

  His painfilled eyes landed on mine. "Bye, Shannon."

  I love you.

  I am so in love with you.

  Please be okay.

  64

  Waiting Game

  Shannon

  "Shan?" Claire whispered in my ear. "Are you still awake?"

  "I'm awak
e," I croaked out as I lay on my side, completely motionless, and stared out the window at the city lights of the capital.

  I hadn't moved from this exact position since being thrust into the hotel room with Claire, Lizzie, Shelly, and Helen several hours ago, and told to stay put by a frazzled Mrs. Moore.

  The girls had long since fallen asleep, with Lizzie in the single bed next to ours, and Shelly and Helen in the double bed on the opposite side of the room.

  Not me, though.

  I hadn't closed an eye.

  I was drowning in my concern.

  Every once in a while, I checked the time on the analogue clock on the nightstand.

  05:38 was its most recent reading.

  Johnny was out there somewhere, lying in one of those big, lit up hospitals, having god knows what done to his body.

  I didn’t know what was happening.

  No one would tell me anything.

  I didn’t have his phone number, and even if I had, I didn’t have a phone to use.

  My heart was frozen in my chest.

  Fear unlike any I had experienced before was battering me.

  I was terrified for him.

  "Do you think he's out of surgery by now?" Claire asked.

  I shrugged a shoulder, feeling numb to the bone.

  Shifting onto her side in the tiny single bed we were sharing, Claire wrapped her arm around me. "They were taking him in around midnight – wasn’t that what Gerard said?"

  Again, I shrugged helplessly.

  I had no idea.

  "He's going to be okay, Shan," she whispered, squeezing me tightly. "I'm sure of it."

  "I feel like can't breathe," I confessed as teardrop after teardrop fell from my eyelashes. "Claire, I'm so scared for him, and my body is frozen."

  "That's understandable," she replied, rubbing my arm soothingly.

  "Is it?" I strangled out, fighting back the urge to scream. "Because I have no idea why I feel like I'm dying right now." Sniffling, I inhaled several shaky breaths, desperate to get my emotions under control. "I have never been so scared in my whole life."

  "Shan," Claire sighed softly. "You're feeling like this because you care about Johnny."

  Nodding, I clenched my eyes shut and tensed my body to stop the tremors from racking through me.

  "And maybe because you love him?"

  Exhaling a ragged breath, I rolled onto my back and turned my face to look at my best friend.