Tommy buried his face in her neck, and she ran her fingers through his hair and held him as he began to move. The change in sensations was overwhelming. She couldn’t process all of it, so she closed her eyes and held on. She trusted Tommy to take them where their bodies demanded they be.
Desire and wanting tugged low in her body, and his friction was not enough. Her body was climbing, seeking release again, which she hadn’t expected at all. The peak was just out of reach, so much so that she wanted to cry in frustration.
“I’m close,” Tommy mumbled against her neck. “Are you?”
She swallowed and nodded. “I think so. But I don’t know how. Or if I can.”
He chuckled and his chest vibrated against hers. “Oh, you can. It’s one of the beautiful things about a woman’s body. You can just keep coming.”
He pulled away from her then and pushed up on his arms. On his next thrust, his pelvis bumped into her clit and Deirdre cried out. So he did it again and again. He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed the remaining breath from her lungs and swallowed her moan. Suddenly, lights behind her closed eyelids blinded her and she heard Tommy release a guttural sound that was all man. Even though she wanted to see his face, wanted to see him orgasm, she couldn’t force her eyes open.
Tommy stiffened and then fell on top of her. They both lay breathless, gasping as if they’d just run a marathon.
She ran her hands down his slick back and relished the feeling of his weight on her. All the stories she’d read and heard about sex never had mentioned this part. The wonderful feeling of being too exposed and yet completely covered. Tommy moved, kissing her neck and her jaw.
He whispered, “Did I hurt you?”
“Not a bit.”
He pulled out and away from her, the cold in his wake shocking her body. She opened her eyes, and before she could move, he was lying beside her again. She snuggled close to steal his warmth.
“That was fucking amazing, Cupcake. Thank you.”
“What’re you thanking me for? All I did was lie back and enjoy myself.”
He shifted again, angling his body along hers. He tilted her face to meet his. “Thank you for letting me be part of your life. Giving me this.”
Words clogged her throat. Or maybe they were tears. She clamped her jaw tight so she wouldn’t do anything to embarrass herself. Tommy brushed her hair aside and ran his thumb down her cheek.
He seemed to understand that she couldn’t talk, so he settled down beside her again and held her close.
As they lay there, Deirdre realized that it was men like Tommy O’Malley who made women believe that sex was more than biology. He had a way of looking at her, nearly through her, and speaking to her as though she were the most amazing person on the planet.
She must’ve dozed off for a while, but she felt Tommy move. When she opened her eyes, he was shaking his arm.
“Sorry. My hand fell asleep.” He sat up the rest of the way. “Are you hungry yet?”
She shrugged.
“I’m starving. Let’s go upstairs.” He jumped off the bed and stepped into his underwear.
She had no idea where the man got his energy. Moving slowly, she sat. “Give me a minute.”
As she reached for her clothes from the floor, Tommy flung his door open.
She squeaked and held her clothes to her chest, not that they could cover much in that position.
“What?” he asked as he turned around looking confused.
“Privacy please. I don’t want your brother seeing me.” The thought of Sean seeing her was quickly followed by the thought that he’d probably heard everything they’d just done.
“He’s not home.”
The knot in her stomach untied. “He’s not?”
Tommy came back into the room. He tugged at the clothes in her arms. “I asked him to spend the night at Emma’s so we’d be alone.”
And there was that feeling again, like she was in some fairy tale or something. Not that she believed in fairy tales. Tommy grabbed his shirt from the floor and pulled it over her head.
“Let’s go eat.”
“I’m not walking through your house half naked.”
“If I had my way, Cupcake, you’d be all the way naked.”
“Your father is upstairs.”
He sighed. “Fine. Pull on some pants then.”
She stepped into her panties, and when she reached for her jeans, he stopped her again. “Jeez. You’re spending the night. You don’t need to get completely dressed.”
She stared at him. As if adding panties to her outfit were enough.
“Here.” He tossed a pair of shorts at her.
She pulled them on and rolled the waist so they’d stay up. “Is there a reason I should be wearing your clothes?”
“Yeah.” He stepped closer and slipped his finger past the elastic waistband of the shorts. “Easy access.”
She rolled her eyes, pretending to be exasperated by him, but in reality, he continued to turn her on.
He kissed her cheek and took her hand. “Crêpes sound good?”
“Crêpes? Like the floppy pancakes?”
“You sound like Sean. But yes.”
“Where on Earth are we going to get crêpes?”
“I’m going to make them.”
He pulled her through the basement and up the stairs.
“You?”
“Yeah, me.”
“You cook?” She didn’t know why the idea sounded so funny. Both her brothers Brendan and Donal routinely cooked. But they also worked in the pub, where they were expected to serve food.
Maybe it was Tommy’s bad-boy look that she couldn’t reconcile with the notion of cooking. Definitely not cooking something as delicate as crêpes.
As he pulled ingredients from the cabinets—which seemed to be well-stocked—he asked, “Do you cook?”
She sniffed. “I’m the only girl in an Irish family.”
“So?” He wasn’t looking at her, so she wasn’t sure if he was joking.
“It’s more than expected. How else would I be able to take care of my husband and family?”
“Maybe we should’ve sent Norah to live with you then. She can barely feed herself.”
He began mixing ingredients and Deirdre inched closer to watch. It wasn’t often she was on the opposite side of things. Usually she was the one being watched. She’d never understood the appeal of observing someone else cooking, but Tommy standing there in nothing but underwear made quite the picture.
“Is being the youngest in your family the equivalent of being the girl in mine?” As soon as she asked, she realized how awful it sounded.
“What?”
“I just meant that you said as the youngest you had to do the dishes, and now you’re cooking . . .”
“Oh, no. A couple of years ago, I stumbled on my mom’s old recipe box. Like I said, I don’t have many memories of her, so I don’t remember what she cooked. I wanted to try some recipes. Get a feel for who she was. Looking at the recipes tells a lot about her.”
Deirdre leaned closer while he whisked the thin batter. “How so?”
“This recipe, for instance, is all splattered and worn. She must’ve used it a lot. Then there are others that look like they’ve never been touched.”
Deirdre crossed her arms and leaned her back against the counter’s edge. She’d never given much thought to her recipes being her legacy, but that’s what they were for Tommy and his mother. Deirdre hardly ever wrote hers down. Would her children want something like that?
She gave herself a mental shake. While children were far from something she expected in the near future, she’d always planned on having them sometime in the future. Now, without Rory, who knew what her life held?
“You like strawberry?”
“Hmm?” She looked up at Tommy, who stood at the open refrigerator, the light shining on all of his colorful tattoos.
He held out a jar of jam. “For the filling. Strawberry?”
&n
bsp; “That would be lovely. Thank you.”
“Always so polite,” he murmured. He set the jar on the counter and pressed against her. “What would it take for you to lose your cool? Be completely impolite?”
Her blood raced through her veins as she stared at his mouth. Her brain processed his question slowly because all she could focus on was whether he’d kiss her again. She concentrated and looked into his eyes, but that was as bad as staring at his mouth. “I think you’ve proven you know exactly how to make me lose my cool, as you say.”
He bumped his hips into her. “I’d like to see that again.”
“Tonight?”
“Only if you’re up for it. But if not tonight, soon, I hope.” He stepped away and turned his attention to the stove again, where the pan sat on the flame.
He meticulously poured batter into the pan and Deirdre tried to control her emotions and hormones. Had it really been only a week ago that she’d been convinced that she was in love with Rory? How could that have been love if being with Tommy was so easy?
Tommy flipped the pancake and slid it carefully onto another plate before filling and rolling it. He slid the plate in the oven as he repeated the process for the next one.
“This seems like a lot of work for two people to eat.”
“Some people are worth the work.”
Deirdre’s heart stuttered. Panic set in. This man was far too good to be true. Then he looked over his shoulder at her and winked. Oh crap.
If he noticed her panic, he said nothing. He simply continued to make crêpes. Deirdre wasn’t sure why she was panicking. She was having fun with Tommy. He knew she had to go home by summer. Maybe because of his appearance and the way Aunt Eileen spoke about him, Deirdre made some assumptions. She hadn’t considered he would be so kind and thoughtful.
Too bad she hadn’t met him in Ireland. She’d hang on to him and never let go.
He slid the next crêpe onto the plate and set it on the counter beside her elbow. “Start with these.”
“I’ll wait for you.”
“See? Too polite. Dig in.”
She took the fork he offered and ate a bite. It was wonderful. Sweet and tasty. She broke off another bite and held it to his mouth.
“These are amazing,” she said as she chewed.
“Thanks.”
They stood like that at the counter, halfway clothed, sharing a homemade meal, and Deirdre’s heart broke a little because this couldn’t be her always.
* * *
Tommy was growing more frustrated by the day. He and Deirdre had spent an entire night together, and it had been damn near perfect. That was three days ago. Since then, they continued to talk during the day as they had been, and he’d seen her briefly when she came to watch his hockey game tonight. Correction—part of his hockey game, which at this point was technically last night. She’d watched half and then told Caitlyn and Norah that she had to go home because she had to get up early. All he’d received was a text letting him know she’d left.
As irritating as it was that she’d left without saying good-bye, he hated the thought of her taking the bus at night. He’d called her after the game and she hadn’t answered. So he’d gone to McGinty’s, as always, but he’d drank more than usual, worrying about whether she’d made it home safely and pissed off that he hadn’t been with her.
So now it was three thirty in the morning and he was freezing his dick off waiting for her to leave the house. He’d wanted to scream her name to wake her up, but even in his current state, he knew he didn’t want to piss off Mrs. O’Leary.
Twenty minutes later, the front door opened and Deirdre came out. Fuck. It was still dark. She went to work like this every day?
“Hey, Cupcake.” All of his irritation and fear fled when he saw her.
She jolted at the sound of his voice. “Tommy. What’re you doing here?”
“Looking for my girlfriend, of course.”
There was a slight pause in her step as she came closer. He didn’t care if she didn’t like him calling her his girlfriend. It fit.
“You left the game.”
“It started very late, and as you can see, I had to get up early.”
Her prim tone set him on edge, and the fear he’d felt poked him again. “I told you I don’t want you taking the bus around there, especially at night.”
She crossed her arms. “You’re drunk.”
“A little. Doesn’t change the fact that you should’ve asked for a ride. Shit. I would’ve given you my car.”
She snorted. “Then you’d be angry that I wrecked it. Go to bed, Tommy.”
“I fucking wanted to be in bed with you.” His voice was far too loud for his neighborhood at four in the morning, but he couldn’t seem to regulate it.
“I’m sorry to disappoint you. We all have jobs to do and I’m off to mine now.”
He looked up at the night sky and swore again. “I’ll drive you.”
“You most certainly will not. If you get behind the wheel of a car right now, Tommy O’Malley, I will call the police.”
He smiled at the spark in her eye. He liked her when she got all snippy like that.
“You think this is funny?”
“No. You’re just so fucking beautiful when you get bossy. I like it when you take charge and you speak your mind.” He walked-stumbled close to her and took her hand. “I worry about you. I called after the game, but you didn’t answer.”
“Did you check your texts?”
He’d been pissed when he’d discovered she’d left, and even more so to discover she’d only texted. “Yeah, I got it.”
“By the time you called, I was asleep. I don’t mean to worry you, but I am capable of caring for myself.”
He rubbed a hand on his head. How could he explain his irrational fear? It was like a gut punch. Something he’d picked up from Jimmy. Rather than attempt to put it in words, he threw his arms around her and held her tight. “I still worry,” he croaked out.
Damn. He was drunker than he thought if he couldn’t keep his emotions in check enough to talk.
She stumbled back against his weight. “Go to bed, Tommy. I’ll call when I get off work.”
“Call me when you get to work,” he said and he swayed away from her. “So I know you got there.”
She nodded. “Are you going to be okay getting home?”
“Was that a joke, Cupcake?” He laughed. Making jokes was out of character for her.
“I’m serious. You always think me incapable of walking from your house to mine and your judgment is clearly impaired.”
He held her by her shoulders and studied her face. She almost had him, but he saw the corner of her mouth twitch. She was fucking with him.
Pulling her close again, he kissed her before his mouth ran away and told her how much he loved her.
She sighed in his arms and he wanted to convince her to skip work, but knew she wouldn’t agree.
As he stepped away, he said, “We need to work on a plan because seeing you for a few minutes a couple of times a week isn’t going to cut it for me.”
“It’s hard for me too.” She kissed his cheek. “We’ll figure something out. Get some rest.”
Instead of turning toward his house, he stood on the sidewalk and watched her walk all the way to the bus stop on the corner. He felt mildly better when she stepped on.
* * *
Deirdre was happier than she’d been in a long time—maybe even her whole life. Every day with Tommy was a bit of an adventure. They were both running on much less sleep than a human being required, but it didn’t matter. She hadn’t known how addictive sex could be. It didn’t matter if they had sex after Tommy got home but before she had to wake for work, she wanted him again when they met for a late lunch in the afternoon.
Her family had become blessedly quiet for the past week. Eileen had spoken to her mom and told her Deirdre was doing well, but no one had reached out to her since Rory had come out to them. She’d never even listene
d to the box full of messages from the night Rory had broken up with her. She had simply deleted them all.
For the first time in her life, she felt free. Exhausted, but free. She lay tangled in Tommy’s arms in his bed, trying to convince herself to go home, but she didn’t want to. The best nights were the ones where she stayed with Tommy.
“You coming to my game tonight?” he murmured. Then he shook his head. “Tomorrow, I mean. Damn. I can’t remember what day it is.”
Deirdre laughed because she was no better. “I’m actually closing at the bakery tomorrow.”
“That means you can sleep in, which also means you can stay longer now.”
She sighed and cuddled closer. She could stay longer. “What time is the game?”
“Starts at seven. I gotta be there at six thirty for warm-ups.”
“I won’t be out of the bakery until after six. I’ll come home to change and meet you there.”
“I’ll see if Norah is coming. She can give you a ride.”
“Don’t be silly. She shouldn’t have to wait on me. I’ll take the bus.”
His hand flinched on her back. “I don’t want you taking the bus at night.”
“It’s still light at seven. I’ll be fine.”
His normally bright blue eyes darkened. She hadn’t seen that look on his face since the night he’d waited up for her. He was angry.
He slid out from under her. And swung his legs over the side of the bed. “Yeah, you’re fine until you’re not. Anything can happen.”
He braced his elbows on his knees and rubbed his head. Deirdre didn’t know what to say because she didn’t understand. She hesitantly reached out and touched his back. “What’s this about?”
A minute passed. Two. He didn’t turn around, but he finally spoke. “Remember how I told you my mom was killed?”
“Of course.”
“She was killed in a mugging gone wrong on her way home from work. I was too young to know it at the time, but I figured it out as I got older. Then I asked Jimmy. It made a lot of sense—his need to protect people. I think it’s why he’s a cop. I know it sounds crazy to you.”
Through Your Eyes Page 18
