Irish Sex Fairy: Ellora's Cave

by Kelly Jamieson

  “Oh, Keara, there you are! I want to introduce you to Glen. Glen, this is my great niece, Keara. Keara, Glen O’Donnell.”

  Her aunt’s…uh…friend.

  “So nice to meet you.” Keara extended her hand for a warm handshake. Glen appeared to be about her aunt’s age, with thick white hair and a ruddy face, lines crinkling up around his eyes as he smiled warmly at her.

  “I’m glad to meet you too,” he said. “Maeve has told me so much about you. You’re right, Maeve, she is beautiful.”

  Keara’s cheeks warmed. “Thank you. Uh…Maeve, I’m ready to go home now.”

  “Already!” Maeve glanced at her watch. “It’s early!”

  “I’m a little tired.”

  “Oh…” Clearly Maeve did not want to leave and Keara felt bad at dragging her away from her friend. “Well…you could take my car, and I’m sure I could get a ride home later.” She shot a glance at Glen who nodded. Keara felt her stomach clench at the thought of returning to the apartment alone.

  “I’ll take her home.” Shane’s voice, deep and husky, spoke from behind her. She whirled around.

  “Oh no, that’s okay…”

  “Thank you, Shane! What a dear boy you are.”

  He grinned. Keara opened her mouth to protest, but Maeve continued. “You should go say goodnight and thank you to Fiona and Declan before you go, Keara.”

  Keara resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Of course she was going to thank her host and hostess before she left. She just didn’t want to leave with Shane.

  His flirting earlier had thrown her off balance. What had he been doing? Trying to humiliate her? There was no way he was attracted to her after the barely hidden contempt he’d shown her every time they’d met. Which had now apparently changed to feeling sorry for her. Why, why had she blurted out that bit about Maeve thinking she needed sex?

  She was so confused now, wondering what Shane really thought about her, wondering why she felt so mixed up inside, like she was attracted to him but afraid, reluctantly, surprisingly aroused—but nervous.

  She allowed him to once again draw her away and lead her across the room. His parents sat in the living room, side by side, Declan’s arm around Fiona’s shoulders. Aw. Sweet.

  “I’m taking Keara home,” Shane announced. “Say good-night.”

  Keara shot him an exasperated glance. “Thank you so much for having me tonight, Mr. and Mrs. Dunstan. It was a lovely party, as usual. I always remember coming to your house and having so much fun.”

  Friona stood and took both Keara’s hands in a warm, maternal gesture that made Keara’s heart go soft. “Thank you for coming,” she replied. “I’m so glad you’re here to visit Maeve.” She flicked her eyes toward Shane and then back, and Keara waited for some embarrassing question or comment. But none was forthcoming and Fiona just smiled. “I hope we’ll see you again while you’re here.”

  Keara nodded, and after their farewells, she and Shane left through the front door. His car was parked on the street in front, beneath the orange glow of a street lamp.

  “You’re leaving early,” Shane commented. “I hope not because of me.”

  She studied him as he started the car. “What if I said it was?”

  His eyes flicked sideways and he put the car in gear. “Then I’d feel bad. I didn’t mean to chase you away.”

  She sighed. “You didn’t. I just find it exhausting being in a crowd like that right now.” And yet, she was afraid to be alone. Go figure.

  “That’s not like you,” he said, and the fact that he remembered her, that they had a history together, warmed and softened her inside. “You used to love parties.”

  “Yes.” She looked down at her hands clasped in her lap as light from a street lamp slid over them, faded to dark, then light again as they drove. “I did.”

  “You will again.”

  She sucked in her bottom lip to keep it from trembling. She wanted to believe that, but at times it seemed so hopeless that she would ever be the same again—fearless, independent, sociable.

  Shane insisted on walking her inside, and she trembled as she unlocked the back door of the shop and disarmed the alarm, anticipating that he was going to try…something. A kiss, maybe. And when he saw her upstairs and said goodnight, then left—she was unreasonably, confusingly disappointed.

  She wandered through the apartment, after having ensured the doors were all locked securely, turning on lights. She’d wanted to leave the party because she was exhausted, but now her body hummed with energy and a strange anticipation. She put a hand to the vague ache low in her belly and realized she was…aroused.

  Dear lord. What was happening to her? Shane had gotten her all worked up. She washed her face in a trancelike state, changed into pajamas and crawled into her bed, drawing the covers up under her chin. She closed her eyes, but couldn’t ignore the liquid heat between her legs.

  She slid a hand down over her stomach, under the elastic of the sleep shorts she wore, over her pubic curls. She cupped her pussy, holding it for a moment, feeling it pulsing against her fingers. She couldn’t believe she wanted this…wanted to touch herself like this. After the horror she’d experienced, sex had seemed so…trivial. So unimportant.

  Her other hand slid up under her tank top and covered one breast. She squeezed gently. It felt good. She squeezed harder and a small moan leaked from her mouth. She parted her legs, let her fingers delve deeper into the folds there, and when she found slick wetness, she gasped.

  Her tummy did a flip flop and images of Shane rushed into her head—his sparkling sapphire eyes, his deep dimples, his long, sexy fingers. His body had a perfect masculine shape—wide shoulders tapering to narrow hips, flat abdomen—and she pictured him without a shirt. She’d seem him shirtless, but that was thirteen years ago when he was still a boy. Now he was bigger, broader, more solid and she wanted to know what lay beneath the T-shirts he always wore.

  She wanted to feel his long fingers on her body.

  Her own fingers stroked, dragged wetness up to the bump that quivered and jumped when she touched it. Another flash of Shane, a young Shane with his face between her legs and his mouth on her pussy. She turned her head into the pillow, fingers of one hand rubbing her clit, fingers of the other pinching her sensitive nipple, tension coiling in her until she climaxed in a hard, shuddering orgasm.

  Chapter Nine

  “What can I do to help today?”

  Maeve looked up from her paperwork. “Well, if you’re not too tired, I need a few errands done today. Or maybe you’d rather stay in the store and I’ll go out and do them?”

  “I’ll go.” A change of scenery might be a good thing.

  “Okay.” Maeve handed Keara a stack of envelopes and a small shopping list. “These need to be dropped off at the county office in Santa Melita, and I need stamps and these put in the mail, and these are a few things I need for groceries. Here, I’ll give you some money…”

  “That’s okay. I’ll pay for it.”

  “Well, bring receipts for the postage back and I’ll reimburse you. That is a business expense, after all.”

  Maeve gave her detailed directions to the locations she needed to go and when she’d done her coffee she set out on her mission, happy to be doing something that would take her mind off Shane and his disturbing flirting.

  It was all Maeve’s fault. If she hadn’t been talking about sex all the time and how sex would cure everything that ailed her, she wouldn’t have told Shane and he wouldn’t have gotten the bad idea to flirt with her.

  And she wouldn’t have masturbated to thoughts of Shane’s hard body and beautiful face.

  With a sigh, she negotiated a curve in the road that wound through the mountains. She needed to get him out of her head. She needed to get back to worrying and feeling guilty and afraid.

  Jesus, what was she thinking? She was losing her freaking mind. She wanted to feel guilty! How sick was that?

  But she didn’t just want to feel guilty. She d
eserved to feel guilty. After what she’d done, she totally deserved to be as miserable as she was.

  Dr. Cogan had told her she had to stop thinking that way. She had to reframe her thoughts. She deserved to be happy. Bah. What did he know?

  A car in her rearview mirror distracted her from her musings as it came up close behind her. Idiot. Tailgating was always stupid, but on this narrow winding road through the mountains, it was dangerous. She pressed her lips together, her eyes moving from the road ahead, to the mirror, and back to the road. She tapped her brake to flash her lights at the moron behind her then focused as she went into another mountain-hugging turn.

  She nibbled her bottom lip, trying to refocus her thoughts. Maybe thinking about Shane was better than thinking she needed to be punished for what she’d done by being miserable and scared for the rest of her life, then wishing she could get over being miserable and scared.

  The car behind her drew up even closer and she frowned. What a dickhead! If he wanted to pass, he should just pass. Of course, the solid yellow line and curving road made it difficult, but she was going the speed limit for God’s sake, what was his rush? Her gut clenched a bit as she glanced to her right and saw how the mountain dropped away, trees and shrubs falling to the valley below. The small guardrail wasn’t much deterrent from a long descent.

  She put her foot on the brake to slow down. Maybe the guy would pass her if she slowed down. She assumed it was a guy. She couldn’t imagine a female driver being so aggressive. Although, you never knew.

  She squinted into the mirror, trying to make out who the driver was. Short dark hair. Definitely a man. Still riding her ass, the jerk. She slowed even more.

  She rounded another curve and there was a blessed straight open stretch of highway. Finally. Now he could pass her and leave her alone. She slowed even more, now well below the speed limit, and waved a hand to motion the driver behind her to pass.

  But he didn’t. Her frown deepened as he stayed right behind her, so close she could feel him. What the hell? Her eyes kept going back and forth between the highway and the car behind her, and then she was going into another long curve around the mountainside and he was still hugging her butt. She gripped the steering wheel with both hands.

  Enough. This was stupid. She was going to pull over and let him go by. If she stopped, surely he’d pass her. If he didn’t, she’d get out and give him a piece of her mind. He was a fucking moron. But what if he was some kind of lunatic? What if she pulled over and he pulled over behind her and got out and he had a gun or something, and was insane…

  Stop! She could not let her mind keep imagining these worst-case scenarios. Dr. Cogan told her to think best-case scenario, not to always imagine the worst. She would pull over.

  She set her foot on the brake and started to slow her car. The shoulder was unpaved and very narrow here, the low guardrail flimsy. When she felt she’d slowed enough, she directed her wheels onto the shoulder, felt the jolt as they left the paved road, held tightly to the steering wheel to control her car on the loose gravel.

  And then she felt the bump. A small bump, but a bump. The car behind her had actually hit her! Jesus! What the hell was he thinking!

  She glanced in her mirror, gripped the wheel and hit the brakes, but the car had now come up beside her—close! She reflexively jerked the wheel to avoid the collision, a glimpse of a dark blue SUV flashing into her vision, and then her car hit the guardrail and to her horror crashed right through it.

  She wrenched the wheel back, trying desperately to get back on the road, but her rear tires skidded off the gravel and over the edge of the embankment. No. Oh, no. This could not be happening. Her wheels spun, the car shuddered and then her front end headed over the edge.

  Eyes wide, hands gripping the steering wheel, her mouth opened and she wasn’t sure, but she might have screamed as her car skidded. She jammed her foot on the brake but it was too late. The front end drove into nothingness.

  Horror made everything happen slowly—the vast spread of greenery far below her, the sensation of falling, like in one of her dreams, the tree that appeared in front of her windshield—and then blackness.

  * * * * *

  Shane ran a hand through his hair impatiently, standing in the crowded waiting room of the hospital ER.

  “Should we call her next of kin?” Jim Mahon asked. He’d been first at the scene of the crash, had radioed for emergency help. The California Highway Patrol along with officers from the Kilkenny PD and an ambulance had rushed to the scene.

  When Shane had first heard of the accident, he hadn’t thought much of it, had let his staff deal with it. But when he heard it was Keara, his heart had slammed into his ribs and he’d torn out of the station and raced to Kilkenny General. He’d actually gotten there before the ambulance, which arrived moments later with lights and sirens blaring.

  Watching them carry Keara into the ER on a stretcher had just about knocked his legs out from under him.

  “No,” he answered shortly. “Just let me find out how badly she’s hurt. If I have to, I’ll go get Maeve.” He swallowed, his chest tight. Jesus, she had to be okay. He could only imagine showing up at Maeve’s shop with news that Keara…he shook his head. “That’ll be better than phoning her and getting her all upset.”

  The nurse had promised to report back to him in a few minutes. They were still checking Keara out back behind the reception desk. He paced back and forth, wanting just to stride back there and yank her curtain open to demand answers. He scrunched his nose at the smell of antiseptic and sickness and rubbed his face.

  “Her vehicle?” he asked Jim.

  “Wrecker got it. Towed it to their compound. Probably a write-off.”

  “Fuck.”

  What the hell had happened? He knew that stretch of highway, the steep drop off beside the highway. There were too many accidents on that highway.

  “My son has a sore throat,” he heard a woman tell the nurse at the desk. He frowned. Jesus. A sore throat. He rubbed the back of his neck, turned and paced back down the hall, behind the reception desk as far he thought he could get away with.

  The nurse he’d spoken to earlier whisked the curtain open and stepped through it. She inclined her head and motioned him to follow her away from the bed where Keara lay, hidden from his sight.

  “She’s okay,” the nurse began. “We can’t find any broken bones. They’re checking for any possible internal injuries, but looks like just bumps and bruises.”

  Relief poured through him, making him feel almost lightheaded. “Can I see her?”

  “In a few more minutes.” She nodded. “But do you have to talk to her right away? Surely you can get your report tomorrow.”

  “It’s not…I’m not getting a report,” he muttered. “I’m a friend. Uh…family friend.”

  “Okay.” She studied him. “Are you okay, Chief?”

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” He scowled. “I need to let her aunt know. But I want to see her first, make sure she’s all right. Will they keep her here?’

  “I don’t think so. Unless we do find internal injuries. Otherwise she’ll probably be released.”

  “I’ll wait for her. Take her home.”

  A man in a white coat emerged next from the curtained cubicle. “She’s going for a CT scan,” he said to the nurse, handing over a chart. He glanced at Shane. “Let me know when she’s back.”

  “Of course.” The nurse took the chart. “Come on,” she said. “You can talk to her for a minute before she goes.”

  She pulled aside the curtain and let him in. Shane stood beside the hospital bed and stared down at Keara.

  Her fiery-bright hair spread out on the white pillow around her face, almost as white as the bedding. She opened her eyes.

  “Hey,” he said in a low voice, bending lower. “You okay?”

  Her eyes went liquid and she blinked. “I think so,” she whispered. “My head hurts. Well, my whole body hurts. But apparently I’m in one piece.”

/>   “That’s what they said.” He resisted the urge to reach for her and touch her. “I’ll wait for you. If everything’s okay, you should be able to go home.”

  “Maeve…”

  “Do you want her?” He leaned closer. “I can call her or go get her if you do.”

  “I don’t want to scare her. I’ll call her.”

  He snorted. “No you won’t.” Her voice was so weak and shaky she’d scare the shit out of Maeve if she tried to talk to her. “We’ll talk when you get back.”

  Hospital personnel in scrubs arrived to take her for her CT scan and he watched them wheel her down the long wide hall. Fuck.

  He turned back and saw Joe still standing there. “Hey,” he said, striding back to the waiting area. “You can go. I’m gonna wait for her.”

  “Okay. She can come in and make her report when she’s up to it.”

  “Yeah. I’ll make sure.”

  Joe looked curious, but said nothing more as he left. Shane wandered over to a vending machine and fumbled some quarters into it to get a cup of coffee. Pretty disgusting stuff, but it was hot. He tried to sit but couldn’t, ended up pacing more with his cardboard cup of steaming brew. He’d finished it and was debating another one, when the nurse came to tell him Keara was back.

  “She says you can come in while we wait for the doctor,” she told him with a smile. “He’s just in with another patient, but he wanted to see the CT results.”

  In about three long steps, Shane was back at Keara’s bedside. She looked a little more alert, but he could see a bruise already forming on one temple. This time he did stroke her hair back off her face.

  He smiled at her. “Wanna tell me what happened?”

  She closed her eyes and grimaced. “Oh God. It was so scary.”

  “Did you lose control?” He wanted to snap out questions at her, but kept his voice gentle. “Jesus, Keara, you picked the worst place on that road to go off.”

  “I didn’t pick it,” she retorted, voice still insubstantial. “Someone forced me off the road.”

  Shane stared at her. “What? What do you mean?”