Wild Irish_Once Wild

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Wild Irish_Once Wild Page 2

by Cara North


  “It’s always you. It’s always been you.” It was faster than he wanted to admit it, but it was the truth. She didn’t seem to pick up on it. His eyes closed and his heart seemed to settle rather than get amped up. He let his head rest against the couch then he felt the tingling sensation at his temple.

  “Come here.” The fingers pushed into his hair and guided him closer. He moved until his head settled right where, in his mind, he belonged, against her heart, listening to the steady thump of it as she stroked his hair. “It’s okay, Parker.”

  It took him a moment to realize that he was crying.

  ***

  Dixie put a blanket over him and looked down at the man sleeping on the sofa. She knew he hated his family, but it didn’t change the fact that they were his family and one of them was dead. Loss, grief, it doesn’t always look the way people expect it to. She took some time to explore the posh living conditions and understood how a kid could get lost in this place. It wasn’t kid friendly. It was barely museum friendly. There were some amazing art pieces and rugs and furnishings that could remain and with an adjustment here and there, this extravagant dwelling could become a home.

  She opened a door to what was obviously Parker’s old bedroom. This looked like the right mix of quality and care. The furnishings were solid, lifetime stuff, but the bedding was all about comfort and while it was still quality, it didn’t seem stuffy and displayed like the other bedroom she had seen. That place looked like it was ready for a magazine shoot. This one looked…inviting.

  She found one of his old t-shirts in a drawer and pulled on a pair of thick socks and settled into the idea that she was going to be there for the night, not at her hotel. She didn’t tell her family she was in town. With any luck, they would never find out.

  Parker wasn’t the only one with family demons. She had long resolved not to compare their lots in life. From any perspective one could be worse or better than the other, but in the end, the only difference was the money. They both grew up in families that didn’t really understand them or want them as they were.

  Sometime in the night, a very large, warm body found its way to bed with her. Soon after, she found herself snuggling up to him. His arms around her, she couldn’t deny that everything she wanted was right there, in this bed with her. The thought was so startling and so alarming she tried to move away, but his grip tightened, his thigh pressed forward and between hers bringing her closer, tighter against him.

  “Parker?” Her lips were at his neck, pressing, opening, her tongue exploring the flesh there before closing again.

  “Do that again.” He flexed his fingers and moved so that she had better access to him. A need rushed thorugh her, a hunger she only felt when she was with him. A possessive urge so strong she had run from it when she could no longer call it puppy love. Now, they were grown, they were fully adult and there was no reason to deny herself this pleasure any longer.

  She pushed against him until he rolled to his back. She climbed on top of him and started at his neck, moved up to his jaw, then to those lips. He had the most perfect lips in the world. Full without being large, soft without being weak. This all felt good and familiar, empowering, intoxicating.

  When he wrapped her up in his arms and rolled them, she was surprised, a bit panicked to be honest. Dixie had always been the one in control of these situations with him and the two other men she had slept with in her lifetime. Control in the bedroom arena was a real issue for her. “Parker.”

  He kissed her jaw then her neck. “You’re wearing my t-shirt. Do you have any idea how many times I went to sleep thinking of you in my t-shirt? Ever since the swimming incident.”

  Her panic stalled as she laughed about that. It wasn’t so much a swim as it was a fall into a pool and he had taken off his shirt to cover her. It was before she had mastered the high heels, but not before she had mastered the effect of short skirts. His t-shirt was mid-thigh, longer than the skin hugging fabric of the clothes she had on.

  “Stilettos.” She gasped out the word as he opened his mouth over the fabric and her nipple beneath it. His tongue teased and she couldn’t believe the reaction her body had to that. With ever tormenting, tantalizing touch, she relaxed her mind further while her body wound up in an all new way.

  He slid lower, pushing the hem of the shirt up to reveal her navel. The thing about sex with Parker, or anyone for that matter, was that she had always choreographed the events. That meant she often enjoyed herself, but she enjoyed the power over them even more. As his tongue slipped into her navel, she felt the grip on those reigns loosen. She was going to let him do this. Something she had never let anyone else do before.

  Gentle hands moved, fingers gripped the panties and slid them off. He kissed her ankle, licked her leg as he moved closer to the uncharted territory at the juncture of her thighs. He sucked, teeth scraped against her thigh. His name escaped her lips and that was all the encouragement needed.

  Growing up in a house full of brothers and a loose mother had made her ashamed of being a woman more than she wanted to admit. She had felt guilty for being a girl, being the oldest, and not being the kind of girl that could take advantage of a man with this very weapon. It limited her sexual experiences.

  She became more than aware that Parker had obviously been with other women as his tongue danced across her clit and made it difficult to be anything but aware of him, his mouth, his fingers pushing into her, and the expertise in which he was testing her reactions. Somehow, her hands found their way into his hair, pulled him closer as her hips lifted against him, in time, until she was standing before a lake on a cliff of rocks and ready to jump.

  The orgasm took her with such force when she landed in the water it was as though she was drowning in the sensations. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything other than let it carry her down before the pulsing shot her up through the waves and she gasped for air.

  She had barely climbed back onto the metaphorical shores when a broad head pressed against the swollen, slick flesh of her pussy. His intrusion was a combination of pleasure and discomfort as she adjusted to the new sensations.

  Before she could say anything other than a few moans of pleasure, he was kissing her, pulling her arms above her head to clasp them in one of his hands. Her heart began to race, a panic tried to set in. He kissed, rocked, and she was more than aware that this was not just Parker having sex with her; this was him taking her, claiming her, possessing her.

  His lips moved from hers long enough to adjust her leg and groan as she gasped from the new angle’s impact. “Parker.”

  “Come one more time, Dixie. I’m almost there, come once more for me. I need to feel it one more time.” The grip on her hands tightened and she squeezed his fingers with hers. The new angle gave him freedom of his other hand and he circled her clit with the pad of his thumb until she was running to that ledge this time, leaping before she got to the ledge. “Fuck yeah.”

  She had never heard him curse before. He leaned in and kissed her lips as he came inside of her. She realized then there was no condom, no boundary between them except the t-shirt that was pushed up above the breasts he moved his head to kiss, lick, suck as the last thrusts of his hips settled.

  If she had any questions about his intentions prior to the sex, the fact that he laid on top of her, still in her, shifting only slightly so as not to crush her with his weight, spoke volumes. His hand brought one of her to his lips. “Dixie, I’m sorry I passed out earlier.”

  “I think I can forgive you.” She moved, shifted and he rolled with her until she was settled on his chest and along his side in a much more comfortable position. “I can breathe again.”

  “Me too.” He stroked her hair.

  “What?”

  “Me too. I feel like I’ve been suffocated for so long and now, here, you. It’s like I found the source of oxygen.” He squeezed her tighter to his side and she let that sink in.

  Funeral for a Father

  Parker Cha
dwick the Third paced the funeral home lobby in between greeting people he didn’t know and other people he could care less about. The one person he did care about wasn’t there yet.

  He was worried he may have come on too strong, tried to take too much too fast. Then she arrived with a brown paper bag in her hand. She was dressed conservatively in a knee length black dress, black heels, her hair pulled up in a bun. All he wanted to do was pull her into the nearest closet and get lost in her kisses.

  “Hi.” He accepted the offered bag and opened it as she smiled and said hello to people she probably didn’t know, but people there trying to speak to him nonetheless. He opened it to find his favorite potatoes. He looked up at her and for the first time that day smiled. “I love you.”

  Her eyes widened but then her lips twitched into a playful grin. “Anything to make you smile. Come on. I know this is uncomfortable for you. I’m going to be right by your side.”

  “Always?” He was serious. She nodded and his heart thumped harder in his chest.

  She looped her arm with his and looked up at him. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

  Everything about his father’s service went better after that. He found a way to listen to people and even admitted that maybe his dad wasn’t always a cheating asshole that bought other people’s companies as a way of building more wealth for his own. By the end of it, he wasn’t ready to admit he loved the man, but he was willing to concede that he no longer hated him and considered someday he might even forgive him.

  His mother was there in her black outfit trimmed in red and her newest boy toy was at her side. “I don’t even want to talk to them.”

  “Who?” Dixie tried to follow his line of sight.

  “My mother, over there with the red trim and her plaything.” He nodded their direction.

  “Plaything? She’s having an affair with an award winning physical therapist?” Dixie looked up at him as Parker looked down. He was sure that his face held the question because she didn’t make him ask before she answered. “I took his class a few years ago. He wrote a book about the importance of massage incorporated into physical therapy. It’s highly unlikely that he is sleeping with your mother unless she has something that his partner is unaware of.”

  “Partner?” Parker looked from her over to his mother. He really looked at her this time. She shook two more hands and then the guy helped her to her seat. Not in an escort fashion, but in a legitimate she needed help to get from where she was to where she was going to sit down.

  “He’s gay.” Dixie touched his chest and he looked down at her again. “Parker, something is wrong with her. You should probably find out what it is.”

  “I don’t like her.” He frowned but Dixie wasn’t deterred in the least. Grumpily, and dragging her with him by the hand, he made his way to the woman that had taught him that image was everything. “Mother.”

  “Parker.” She smiled at him, looked him up and down, gave Dixie the once over, and then closed her eyes for a beat before opening them with that smile still held in place.

  “What’s going on?” He looked from her to the man standing beside her. His expression said it all. “Sir?”

  “Well I’m sure you know the basics, but lately the condition is worse…”

  “He doesn’t know anything.” She took in a slow and controlled breath. “Never has.”

  “You mean…” The guy looked at his mother and then to him. “Come with me.”

  In the privacy of another room Parker learned that his mother had a rare form of bone cancer that she had been battling throughout her life. She had been seeking treatment around the world and had been in remission three times before, but it was back, aggressive, and her time was limited. They were out of options and experimental treatments, so this was about pain management, quality of life, and her decisions for how she would take her leave of this world.

  The man left him alone in that room and Parker could have sworn it began to shift, move, spin even. It may have taken him on quite a ride had it not been for the woman walking through the door. “Dixie.”

  ***

  “I seem to have a thing for couches lately.” He tried for a laugh but it fell flat. She rubbed his back and shoulders as he tried to let his entire world as he knew it settle into a new view.

  “You did know that while I have multiple therapy degrees, psychological is not an official one of them.” She placed her hand on his forearm and squeezed him tight.

  “Why didn’t they tell me? Did they have any idea what these secrets and lies were doing to me? Did they even know or care that it made me hate them?” He looked at her and realized she was holding back tears. “No. Don’t cry. I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not crying for me, Parker. I’m just…I hate this for you. The only way you are going to know the truth is to ask that woman out there and you have to be prepared for the fact that her stubborn idea that she has to be perfect may lead to more questions than answers in the end.” She sniffed, wiped the tear away. Then she reached up and wiped one from his cheek and he realized that for the second time he was crying in front of this woman and she wasn’t running from him because of it.

  “What a baby I’ve grown up to be.” He sucked in a sharp breath and puffed it out as he stood.

  “Real men cry. My uncle taught me that. If you want to make sure you aren’t like your parents, Parker you have to be okay with the fact that you feel. It was the first lesson I had to learn.” She straightened her dress though it was fine already.

  That night she went back to her hotel and he went back to the home his father had left him. He had two floors that made one hell of a condo and he owned the entire building. The other people that lived there paid exorbitant amounts of rent. The first thing he did this time was go into the study and through his father’s desk. There was so much he needed to learn about these people and he was already behind the power curve in regards to time.

  “Good morning, sleepyhead.” Dixie ran her hand through his hair and he lifted his head from the desk. “Come on. I brought breakfast.”

  He ate, showered, and emerged feeling refreshed and ready for the next big event. “I’m glad you’re coming with me.”

  She nodded. “I’ve been thinking about that. Last night, I…”

  “You had to go see your family. I get it. You were at a funeral, then my mother, I mean it had to stir up some feelings.” Parker watched her chew her bottom lip and wondered, “Why are you nervous?”

  “I didn’t go see my uncle. I went to see my mother and my brothers. I told them exactly how I felt and that while I loved them, I didn’t like the way they were living and if they wanted to be a part of my life they were going to have to change or accept that I’m not going to be a part of theirs. Even if I live closer.” She went back to worrying her lip.

  “How far away do you live now?” He didn’t know.

  “New York.” He felt his eyes widen at that. “I basically use all of those certificates to make celebrities and other really wealthy people beautiful, more flexible, I even do physical therapy. I was thinking if this afternoon tea…”

  “I wouldn’t ask you to do that.” He couldn’t believe she would be willing to work with his mother.

  “Parker, I need to know, I mean when you say things like always…like you love me…are we still…I mean I need to know.” She seemed a bit angry and he understood why.

  Her mood didn’t lighten with his smile. He was overjoyed at the prospect of her love and affection. He was just scared to death to bring her into his family drama. “Dixie, I…You are everything to me. I’ve been so overwhelmed lately with finding you here, learning all this stuff about them. I’m trying to find a way to make you want to spend the rest of your life with me and not scare you with all that comes with that.”

  “I’m scared. Even without the rest of it. That’s why I had to go to the hotel last night. I couldn’t spend the night with you until I had sorted through everything. You’re worried about the drama of your fam
ily. Have you forgotten mine?” She was animated and talking with her hands.

  “No, but…”

  “You think because they are poor they won’t be a problem, right? You forget that they have nothing to lose. They have nothing that stops them from wanting more when I give them anything. And being with you, they will think I have…”

  He realized she was both trying to protect him and scared of what it meant. “Hey. It’s okay.”

  “No. It isn’t.” She broke down then and he moved to pull her into his arms. They had a lifetime of emotions bottled up and there was no way to stuff them down or stop them from overflowing. It was the first time in their relationship he felt like they were on equal ground.

  “I’m here, Dixie.” He placed a kiss at her temple. “Always.”

  Tea and Truth

  Dixie smiled wide as she accepted the cup of hot tea. Parker’s mother was in considerable pain, but she was smiling and polite, and as proper as a character from a Jane Austen novel. “Thank you.”

  Parker was running late, and Dixie was there alone. “Mrs. Chadwick. I know you don’t know me…”

  “Sugar, I know who you are. I’ve known who you were since you were a wild little thing meeting my son every Tuesday at a pub for potatoes and cola.” She took a sip of her tea as if that wasn’t shocking, but it was. “Don’t be so surprised, dear. He is my only son and heir to the family fortune, so naturally, I had him followed for most of his young life.”

  Dixie felt heat flush her from head to toe. “We were best friends.”

  “He broke your heart.” She sipped the tea and sat it down. Her eyes closed a long moment then opened. They were a similar blue to her son’s but duller.

 

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