Breakaway

by Deirdre Martin

  “The alley.” Sandra’s eyes lit up dreamily. “It was like you were strolling down memory lane. There was the store, and the alley, and it all came flooding back.”

  “In a way, yeah,” Erin replied uneasily. “It wasn’t like a snog or anything. It was just one little kiss. No rockets and all that.”

  “Frenchie?”

  “SANDRA!” Erin’s cheeks were burning.

  “It was a Frenchie,” said Sandra, pleased with her detective skills. “What happened next?”

  “I told him it was madness for me to have been getting rides from him, and that it had to stop. He kept pushing, and finally I said that I needed time to sort everything out.”

  Erin lay back on the blanket, closing her eyes. “I do still love him. But I’m scared. If he did that to me again, I don’t know what I’d do.”

  “Well, what’s your heart telling you to do?”

  “Forgive him.”

  “Then do that,” Sandra said simply.

  Erin lifted her head. “Really?”

  “Yeah, I know it’s a risk. But what’s the alternative? Pretend the feelings between you two aren’t there? You’re a different woman than you were two years ago, Erin. And judging from what we’ve seen so far, he’s a different man—listening to what you have to say, being considerate of others, willing to admit when he’s made a mistake. He doesn’t think the world revolves around him anymore. I think you should forgive him.”

  “All right. I just hope you’re right.”

  23

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  Two weeks after her conversation with Sandra, Erin decided it was time to have the discussion. Instead of looking forward to it, she was anxious about it, even though she knew there would be a positive outcome (unless Rory had suddenly gone mental). It made her feel vulnerable, which is why she had put it off until now.

  She’d rang him, surprised when he picked up on the second ring. His gran had him doing chores. He couldn’t get together until later in the day because she was insisting the legs of the kitchen table were uneven, and she wanted him to even them up. He knew damn all about sanding, but he’d done as she asked. Now they were even worse.

  “Glad you rang,” he said, relief in his voice. “The only skilled carpenter I know died two thousand years ago. Clearly, we’re in no way related.”

  “We need to talk,” Erin told him calmly. Rory agreed to pick her up later, saying he had a surprise for her. And now here they were on the Copley Road, one of the old country roads rarely traveled anymore, and he was dangling his car keys in front of her face, saying he was going to give her a driving lesson. The hedges on both sides were overgrown, but not so badly the road was undrivable. There was no chance of being interrupted, that was certain. But a madman coming out of the woods with a machete and hacking them to bits? That, she wasn’t so sure of, considering how isolated it was.

  Rory jangled the keys. “C’mon, then.”

  “I told you I wanted to talk.”

  “We will. After I give you your first driving lesson. It’s been eating at me, you saying I was a bad driving teacher when we were kids. I think we were both very young and uptight. It’s different now, so I thought we’d have a go. C’mon.”

  Erin’s anxiety turned into a full-out case of nerves as she exchanged places with Rory. She turned the ignition and the car purred to life. Her foot barely touched the pedal.

  “Go on, then, adjust the seat. There’s a switch on the right side.” Erin felt butterfingered as she felt for the switch and the seat slowly moved forward. Rory clapped.

  “If that’s going to be your attitude, we’re ending this lesson right now,” Erin huffed.

  “Relax. You’ve got to relax.”

  “I am relaxed.”

  “Right,” Rory said dryly. “You’re relaxed. Next, adjust your mirrors. You do the rearview mirror manually, see? You want to make sure you can see behind you. This panel between us has the switch to control your side-view mirrors. You want to see a little bit of the side of the car, but mostly what’s going to be alongside you.”

  Erin started to adjust the side mirrors. “Don’t watch me.”

  “Whaddaya mean, don’t watch you? This is a lesson, remember?”

  “I think I can handle adjusting mirrors without your supervision.”

  Rory looked up at the car ceiling, whistling. “Let me know when you’ve got that done.”

  “You’re the biggest arse God ever made. I just want you to know that.” It took her all of a few seconds to adjust the mirrors.

  “You can stop whistling the Bee Gees ‘Stayin’ Alive’ now,” she told him.

  Rory looked at the side-view mirror of the passenger seat. “Good job.”

  “Stop making me feel like I’m five and I’ve just completed a drawing of an apple or something!”

  “I’m trying to encourage you!”

  “All you’re doing is making me annoyed with you, which makes me more nervous.”

  “Apart from giving you instructions, I’ll keep my piehole shut. Would that make you happy?”

  “Very.”

  “Now. Put your hands on the steering wheel at ten and two. Imagine the wheel is a clock. Ten and two.”

  Erin put her hands at ten and two.

  “Time to drive.”

  Erin panicked. “What, now? The first time out?”

  “What did you think? We were gonna practice adjusting mirrors all afternoon?”

  “I don’t know about this.”

  Rory leaned over and caressed her cheek. “You’ll be fine.”

  Erin closed her eyes for a moment, relishing his touch. “If you say so.”

  Rory clapped his hands together enthusiastically. “Now. Keep your foot on the brake, and see the stick shift here? Put it in drive—but still keep your foot on the brake as you do it, yeah?”

  Erin nodded. Her right hand gripped the wheel while her left sought the stick shift. She could hear her heart whooshing in her ears. You’re not an idiot, she reminded herself. If that fat dosser Teague Daly can drive, then you should be able to grasp it in no time.

  “Now,” Rory continued ever so authoritatively, “take your foot off the brake and put it gently on the gas pedal. Then push down slowly on the gas pedal with your foot. Slowly mind. And you’ll be driving forward.”

  A nervous wreck, Erin did as Rory instructed and the car began to move forward.

  “Keep it going. Just aim straight.”

  Erin slowly motored up the old road. She was shaking a bit, but she was driving.

  “Right. I want you to stop now, so put your foot on the brake.”

  Overwhelmed, Erin pushed her foot down hard and she and Rory rocked forward, then back.

  “I said gentle!”

  “You didn’t! You just said ‘put your foot on the brake’!”

  “I thought it would be obvious that if you gently tap the gas pedal to go, you would gently tap the brake pedal to stop. Put it in park.”

  Erin leaned her head against the steering wheel. “I knew this was a bad idea.”

  “What are you on about? It’s a good idea. You just have to loosen up. Here, this’ll help. Fresh air.” He hit a button and the car windows rolled down. “This time, keep going forward slowly till I tell you to stop.”

  Erin put the car into drive and slowly crawled up the road. She was just gaining in confidence and picking up a little speed when some overgrown brambles smacked her in the face through the open window. Panicking, she hit the gas rather than the brake and they were flying.

  “Brake!” Rory yelled.

  Erin was too shaken to stop.

  “Erin, stop the car. BRAKE!”

  She mashed down on the brake pedal, hard. This time she and Rory jerked forward and back with even more force.

  Erin’s leg was shaking as she put the car into park.

  “Um. Okay. Okay.” Rory’s voice was kind but impatient at the same time. “That’s all right—those brambles smacking
you in the face was unexpected. But that’s what good driving is all about: keeping alert, keeping aware, concentrating on what you’re doing. My da gave me a golden piece of advice that still applies to this day: assume that everyone else out on the road is a jackass who doesn’t know what the hell they’re doing. It works.”

  Erin was still shaking. Rory took her hand and kissed her palm. “I know it’s scary the first time out, but you can do this.”

  “I know I can. I just get so overwhelmed, and it doesn’t help that I’m sitting here thinking, ‘He thinks you’re a twit.’”

  “I don’t think you’re a twit,” Rory insisted. “I just think you need to relax. Tense drivers aren’t good drivers, Erin.”

  “You should put together a driving handbook for twits,” Erin said bitterly.

  “I could put you on the cover if you like,” Rory offered. He pointed at her face. “Ah. Don’t think you can hide it from me. I see a smile coming on. Oh, she’s fighting it, but her mouth isn’t listening. The corners are curling up…”

  Erin broke into a grin.

  “There it is! The smile I love.”

  She turned to him. “Rory.” The safety belt was cutting into her shoulder.

  Exasperated, she undid it. “I really think we should talk.”

  “Me, too. But not sitting here in the car. Let’s take a walk. I’ll find a nice old brick wall covered in moss you can crash into.”

  “I’d forgotten what a wisearse you could be.”

  “Anything else you need to be reminded of?” Rory asked seductively.

  “Maybe,” Erin murmured back.

  There was no mistaking the dark gleam of desire in Rory’s eyes as he got out of the car and came around to open the door, extending his hand like a true gentleman to help her out of the car.

  She was no sooner free of the vehicle’s confines than Rory pulled her into his arms. The hug, so heartfelt and fierce, felt like home. She’d forgotten how safe she could feel here. Rory tilted her chin up and their eyes locked.

  “I love you. I know I don’t deserve it. But a life without you is unimaginable, Erin. Please take me back.”

  Erin’s eyes slowly drifted shut as she savored the fervency of his words, as seductive as anything he’d ever said to her over the years.

  “I love you, Rory.” Saying the words aloud made her feel like a prisoner who’d just been set free. “God help me, but I do.”

  “Thank God,” said Rory, bending to kiss her mouth. Erin had forgotten that desire could be coated in sweetness. But once that sweetness melted away, what was left was a hunger that wasn’t easily satisfied.

  Erin felt reason slowly crumble as Rory’s kisses grew more possessive. It spurred Erin’s own boldness as she tore her mouth from his to nip at his neck. Rory’s low groans incited her to do more. And so, ever so gently, here and there, she bit him.

  “I want to make love to you,” he whispered huskily. He grabbed her chin and clamped his mouth on hers, greedy and demanding, pulling her closer to him than she ever believed possible. No boundaries. They were just brilliant silver molecules, combining and recombining, binding them together forever.

  “Hang on,” he said, eagerness in his every move as he opened the back door of the car with a seductive smile. “What do you say? Seems a waste not to use it, seeing as it’s so roomy and all.”

  “Oh, I agree completely,” Erin said solemnly as Rory backed her up to the open car door. Prickles of mad anticipation hit her skin as she lay down, the cool black leather a lovely, gentle shock.

  Rory paused a moment, silhouetted by the sunlight pouring through the open door. It looked as though he stood in the center of a blazing fire. The silhouette disappeared as he carefully climbed atop her, his mouth seeking hers like a parched man seeks water. His mouth moved to her throat, then to the sensitive spot at the base of her neck, his kiss turning gentle as he put his lips there again and again. She’d been to this place with him before, but it felt different now, more real. I know this man, she thought in amazement, every inch of him, every scar, every freckle. The way he moves in bed, and the way he moves when he walks. Simple things a woman would notice about a man she loved, and would never forget. The press of his body on hers, his knowing just where to kiss her and how, filled her with such passionate love for him she thought she might burst into tears.

  Rory lifted his head, staring into her eyes. He wanted her badly. She knew that look, the one that magically conveyed lust and love at the same time, overwhelming her. It was as if her senses were working overtime, trying to make up for the time lost. His burning skin and the intense gaze. The scent of clothing that had been dried out on the line in sun and fresh air. Rory.

  She couldn’t stop staring at him. It was as if he were a breathtaking piece of art that had come to life, enrapturing her completely. Gently, she took Rory’s face in her hands and pulled his mouth down to hers. Familiar but new, she thought again, the hunger on both sides reaching an entirely new level. Heat was building inside her, not incrementally but in huge leaps. She could tell it was the same for Rory.

  Erin was fighting for breath, trying to keep at least a semblance of a clear head. She wanted to remember every detail of these moments. But Rory, pressing into her hard, was making it impossible. Erin had put her hands up his shirt so that her palms could play over his back. She knew she should be patient, but she couldn’t be. There would be other times for slow, sensuous lovemaking. Right now, all she wanted was for Rory to fuck her.

  “I want you inside me now.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes,” Erin said with a guttural groan.

  Rory sat up astride her, hurriedly tearing off his T-shirt before helping her rip off hers. The sight of her in her bra seemed to tantalize him.

  “I’m sorry, love,” Rory said, leaning forward. “Just a minor detour.”

  He roughly pushed her bra up and clamped his mouth down on her nipple, hunger biting through her as he suckled, blew on them, then teased them with his tongue. He was hard against her; Erin reached down and began rubbing him through his jeans. “Don’t,” he whispered huskily. He returned to her breasts, teasing with his teeth and lapping with his tongue. So good, she thought. God. The fire was building in her as her breathing grew faster and faster, little moans escaping from her throat.

  “Yeah,” Rory groaned, lifting his head momentarily to graze her earlobe. “I want you to come for me.”

  It was more than Erin could take. The minute his tongue returned to her nipple, she was bucking against him, screaming ecstatically.

  “Now you,” Erin said, pushing some hair from her face. “Fuck me like you mean it. Fuck me like a man.”

  Rory’s reply was a whispered, “Oh, yeah,” as he slid down her body and stood up in the space of the open door. He pulled off his shoes and socks, then hers. There was a rough impatience in his fingers as he leaned forward, tugging down her jeans and panties.

  Rory hurriedly unbuckled his belt and fly, kicking himself free of his jeans and briefs. He parted her legs roughly and then thrust into her, hard. Erin drew her legs up, feeling herself on the verge again as Rory thrust away inside her.

  “Faster,” Erin begged, pressing, squeezing, wrapping her legs around his hips as tightly as she could. “I told you to fuck me. Do it.”

  Rory groaned again but he did as she asked, slamming into her again and again as she screamed with delight as the second wave of orgasm broke over her, sending her into another ecstatic freefall. It was too much for him to take. His hips began pumping wildly as he panted. And then it happened, him crying out as he lost all control and abandoned himself in his frenzied climax.

  Rory Brady. Hers again for eternity, she was sure of that now.

  * * *

  “I suppose this isn’t a very dignified sight, two naked people in the back of a car, my feet dangling off the seat. My bare arse alone would send them screaming away.”

  Erin laughed, holding Rory tight. After they’d made love
, they’d lain together quietly for a long time. No need to try to read each other’s mood. They were just Erin and Rory, the way it always had been, the way it always would be.

  Erin playfully slapped his rump. “You’ve a magnificent arse.”

  “Yeah, that’s what my teammates are always telling me in the locker room. ‘Rory,’ they say, ‘that is one helluva freckled white Irish ass you’ve got there.’”

  “They’re just jealous.”

  “You’re probably right.” He pushed himself up on his elbows, looking down into her face with a mischievous grin.

  “What would you do if Father Bill came along right now on one of his chastity patrols?”

  “Die of mortification.”

  “D’you remember that time he burst into one of Sandra’s parties like he was the snog sheriff come to arrest us all?” Rory launched into an imitation of the wheezy self-righteous priest. “‘Don’t think I don’t know what you’ve been up to! Don’t think God doesn’t see your filthy ways.’” Rory shook his head in pity. “Poor bloke. He’s probably never had any in his life.”

  “I just remember Sandra’s mam walking in and Father Bill standing there, looking all triumphant until she said, ‘What the hell are you doin’ in my house? You bloody Nosy Parker. Leave ’em alone! They’re just kids; let ’em have some fun.’”

  “Isn’t that when Sandra—”

  “Yes. Let’s not talk about that.”

  “Right.” Rory nuzzled Erin’s neck, sending bolts of pleasure through her. “Can I assume we’re back together?”

  Erin was nonchalant. “Yeah. I guess so.”

  Rory lifted his head in surprise. “That wasn’t very enthusiastic.”

  “I’m teasing you.” Erin slapped his butt again.

  “I knew that.”

  “Did you? How?”

  “Because you’re lying beneath me naked as the day you were born, after practically deafening me with your screams.”

  Erin was mortified. “Beg pardon?”

  “I’d forgotten how loud you are,” Rory rolled on, clueless.

  “I am not!”

  “Well, sometimes you are,” Rory amended.