by Carolan Ivey
Keeping his hand there, he reached for her with the other, pulling her close as he sat up straighter and set his mouth over the tip of her breast. She wrapped her arms around his head, threw her head back and cried out as he suckled her. Her breast, pressed against his mouth, muffled his growl as his orgasm rumbled through him.
Crisis averted, he released the pressure point and stroked the wet flesh on the inside of her thighs. She shuddered and looked down at his face, and he met her gaze even as he continued to lave her nipples.
“What was that?” she asked, breathless. “What did you do?”
With a last lap at her nipple he released her and lay back in the tub, pulling her with him.
“A delay tactic,” he said. “I forgot the condom.”
“Oh.” A smile curved her lips. “Are you okay?”
“Brilliant.” He guided her hand down to his still-hard cock to prove it to her.
“Good. Because I want you in my mouth.”
In an explosion of water, Kel came out of the tub, somehow carrying Beith with him. He carried her through the now-warm, peat-scented bedchamber, detouring only once to retrieve a condom from his jeans and toss it on the bedside table. He laid her out on the bed, following her down, parting her legs with a muscled thigh.
Reality hit cold and hard in her belly. She’d been told she could walk, but no one had mentioned anything about the rigors of healthy sex.
Because she’d never been good at keeping her face from revealing every thought, every emotion—and because Kel was Kel—he pulled back and looked down into her eyes.
“Don’t worry, darlin’. We’ll figure this out.” He laughed. “God, we’d better figure it out or it could be fatal.”
Oh, Kel, if you only knew.
After a few abortive attempts looking for a position that didn’t press on her bruises or risk putting her leg at an extreme angle, they wound up on their sides, facing each other, her good leg draped over his hip.
By this time their bodies were slick with sweat, not water, and Beith was nearly crying with need. The head of his cock nudged her flesh, and he closed his eyes and set his jaw. “God, Beith, I can’t wait. I’m sorry.” With one hand at the small of her back to steady her, he entered her in one smooth thrust. He pressed his forehead against hers and groaned with a sound almost akin to relief.
She cried out at the sweet sensation of being filled with Kel. God, it was so good. She flexed her leg around his waist and tilted her hips, thrusting to meet him. Low sounds she didn’t recognize as her own erupted from her throat as her walls clenched around him.
At the edge of orgasm, she shut her eyes and breathed hard.
No, not yet.
“What’s wrong?” His warm breath in the delicate curve of her ear nearly pushed her over the edge.
She bit her lip and shook her head, gripping his hips tighter with her leg and stroking him with her flesh. If anyone was going to drop nearly dead from orgasmic overload tonight, it was going to be Kel, not her. She knew he could probably make her come until she passed out, but not this night. Not now.
“Shite,” he muttered. “I feckin’ did it again.” Abruptly he pulled out of her without coming and rolled her to her back. She looked down, confused, and found his dark head between her legs, his powerful shoulders parting her thighs. In one hand he grasped the condom he’d forgotten to put on. Again. She started to laugh at that, but at the touch of his tongue to her clit, she gasped. She couldn’t help it; she surrendered, tangled her fingers in his hair and rolled her pelvis against his mouth.
He kept up the onslaught until she offered up her orgasm, sweat beading her body and strands of her tangled hair sticking to her face.
The ancient scent of the peat fire drugged her senses. With strength she didn’t know she had, she pulled him to her, rolled him to his back and scooted down to take his hard cock into her mouth. She tasted the bead of liquid at the tip, tasted herself on him, and moaned. The vibration of the back of her throat against his tip had him groaning and sifting his hands through her hair, muttering something low in his throat, in Irish. She didn’t need to understand the words to know what he wanted. She took him deep, reveling in her ability to keep this powerful man helpless beneath her touch.
His cock grew rock hard in her mouth and he gripped her hair to pull her mouth away from him, but her quick fingers found the same spot she’d seen him pressing before.
“What the hell—” he gasped.
She let him slide out of her mouth and sat up, maintaining pressure on that spot while stroking him with her other hand.
“I learn fast,” she said huskily.
“Jaysus, woman, are you tryin’ to kill me?” He groaned, uncharacteristically flailing his hands until he found a spot on the ironwork in the headboard to wrap his fingers around.
No, Kel, I’m trying to save you.
She made him suffer through another release that wasn’t quite a release, watching in fascination as he came, his tortured groans grinding out from clenched teeth. It was the biggest turn-on she’d ever experienced, controlling this big man’s pleasure with just the tips of her fingers. Her breasts grew heavy, and she released his cock to touch them as she lazily watched him ride it out.
Finally his jaw relaxed, and he breathed heavily as he watched with hooded eyes as she toyed with herself, exulting in the power flowing through her body. Power she’d never felt, even before the accident.
“Enough,” he ground out, reaching down to lift her and settle her on top of him, pausing just long enough to roll the condom on. With one hand he supported her weak thigh while his other hand, on her hip, urged her to ride him.
No longer caring if she cracked every bone in her body in order to have him, she guided his cock to her entrance and sank down on him, slowly, carefully stretching her thighs apart until she had him seated within her to the hilt. Her breath quickened as she felt another release building within her body. She rode him in excruciating slow motion, enjoying every second of it, every inch of him.
She opened her eyes and found him watching her, his green eyes dark and glistening.
“Hold still.” He grasped her waist, lifting her just an inch or two. She braced her hands on his shoulders as he began to thrust. Slow. Strong. Deep. His breath rasped out on her name, pronounced in soft Irish syllables.
Beh-yeh, Beh-yeh.
“Kel!” Beith shuddered and cried out, her orgasm rolling through her in long, intense waves of pleasure that seemed to have no end in sight. Seconds later, Kel’s back arched and she felt him pump deep inside her, his groan driving her to yet another peak.
She collapsed onto him, and he rolled her to the side. They lay in the darkness, breathing hard, arms and legs tangled together.
“Check my pupils,” he mumbled into her hair.
Barely able to move, she lifted her head and peered into his eyes, just visible in the midsummer evening light sifting through the windows.
“Yep. Fixed and dilated.”
He sighed in contentment. “I’m officially dead, then.”
Beith smiled and closed her eyes. Just as she drifted off, she thought she heard hands clapping in a slow rhythm, and an old woman’s voice whispering in the darkness.
Well done, daughter.
Chapter Six
Morning was bright in the sky when Kel padded into the first-floor kitchen, intent on brewing coffee for himself and Beith. He grinned to himself, thinking of how she looked with her hair spread out on his pillows. Snoring.
“You’re getting sloppy, Kellan.”
Kel pivoted and banged his hip into the stove, already annoyed with himself because he knew that voice.
“Declan, you feckin’ shite hawk! How’d you get in here?”
“I can’t be givin’ away all my secrets, now can I?” Declan removed his feet from the kitchen table and rubbed his dark-circled eyes. “I ought to be givin’ you a dig in the snot locker. Where is she?”
Kel leaned back against the coun
ter and crossed his arms. “Sleepin’. I’ll be thankin’ you not to wake her up just yet.”
Declan’s mouth twitched. “Long night’s ride, eh?”
“None o’ your feckin’ business.” Inwardly he cursed himself for not closing the bedroom door behind him. No doubt their voices were echoing right up that spiral staircase.
He spied his Harley’s panniers sitting by the kitchen door. “What’s this?” He pointed at them.
Declan leaned back in the kitchen chair and clasped his hands over his flat belly. “She’ll be needin’ to pack her things—”
Kel’s eyebrows slammed together. “No, she won’t.”
“—as soon as Fionna and Airdinn get here.”
“Airdinn is on holiday.”
“Not anymore.”
“Then why is Fionna—”
“I’ll be collecting her keys and her security badge. I’m sacking her. And I’ll have the distinct pleasure of doin’ it in front of you.”
“What! Fionna had nothing to do with—”
“Airdinn will take Miss Molloy on her tern tour,” Declan went on. “She has a job to do.”
“Wait, you can’t fire Fionna. I own half the business and I have a say—”
“Fionna let her friendship with you compromise the safety of a client. She’s gone,” Declan declared, never moving from his chair.
“Beith was never in danger,” Kel roared, then snapped his mouth shut, irritated with himself for letting Declan’s studied calm get under his skin. Again.
Declan cast a pointed glance at the shiny blue panniers, one of which was crusted with fresh mud. “So you didn’t lay the bike down sometime in the last few hours?”
Kel rubbed his hands down his face.
“It’s clear you learned nothing about her. You missed the little details—like her medical condition. Like I said, Kellan. Sloppy.” He got to his feet. “Plus, you wasted the time and resources of the search team looking for you. That’ll be coming out of your earnings for this quarter.”
Kel shrugged. “Keep it all. I quit.”
Declan narrowed his eyes at him. “You can’t quit, you’re my feckin’ brother.”
“Fionna and I will start our own business.”
“And Miss Molloy’s to be your first client, I suppose? Stolen from your own brother?” Declan stuck out his jaw.
“If that’s what she wants.” Kel set his own jaw.
Declan’s gaze moved to the kitchen doorway, and his lip curled in a half-smile. “Why don’t we ask Miss Molloy?”
Kel looked at the door and cursed roundly under his breath.
Beith stood there, hair rumpled sexily around her face, a pair of his clean socks sagging around her ankles and one of his shirts hanging from her slim shoulders. Eyes wide, she clutched it closed at her throat with one hand and tugged the hem down over her scarred leg with the other. The vulnerability that once again shadowed her eyes nearly killed him.
He took a step to move between her and Declan, but his brother, ever the courtly one, stood up and inclined his head toward her. “Miss Molloy.” His gaze slid back to Kel, murder written clearly in the grey depths of his eyes. “Aren’t you going to introduce us, brother?”
I am so dead.
“What is it? What’s going on?” Beith’s gaze bounced between the two men, her eyes widening even more when she caught the resemblance between them.
“I’ll leave you to explain, Kellan, while I wait outside for Fionna. Excuse me, Miss Molloy.” With that, Declan left the room and exited through the anteroom door.
“Kel?”
He sighed. “Maybe you should sit down.”
She stayed where she was. “No. Tell me what’s wrong.”
No point in softening the blow, not now. Not with Declan right outside, ready to take Beith out of his life. Shite. She was already gone. And he had no one but himself to blame. He took a deep breath.
“Fionna was supposed to be your tour guide, not me.”
“What?”
“Declan and I own the security business together. I was in his office when Patrick faxed over your schedule. And, um, I saw your photograph. I…” He spread his hands. “Just wanted to meet you. Show you the real Ireland—and have a bit of fun. And I knew Declan wouldn’t have let me within a mile of you. So I, um…talked Fionna into—”
“Letting you kidnap me?” She gasped and went pale. “You mean, people have been looking for us for two days? Thinking I was missing?” Now she did sit down. “Oh my God, Kem and Patrick must be worried sick.”
Kel, his knees strangely weak, pulled up a kitchen chair and sat facing her. “I’m sure Declan has already called them.”
She swept one hand over her head, dragging hair away from her face and hanging onto a handful of it as she propped her elbow on the table.
“I should have found a way to let them know I was all right. Found a pay phone and used a credit card. Something.” Her eyes darkened, haunted with some memory that had Kellan clenching his fists to keep from reaching out to hold her.
“They’re the only family I have, the only ones who stood by me when my leg and my life was in pieces. They helped the deputies look for me while I lay in a ditch for almost eighteen hours…”
Kel winced.
“…and I ran off like some irresponsible teenager with more hormones than sense.”
“The mobile won’t work out here. You can use my land line—”
“Did I hear your brother say he’s going to fire Fionna?”
He felt his face redden and he nodded. “She agreed to help me with my plan.” He made a helpless gesture. “Said she had a dream about it. About us. And the Cailleach. She actually tried to talk me out of it, said it was dangerous, but I wouldn’t listen. Not once I laid eyes on you.”
Beith straightened and rubbed her arms as if cold. “It was dangerous. We could have been killed, racing around on the Harley like that. And the Hag—she wanted you. Your life. I made love to you until you collapsed, to protect you from her. Because in one short day, somehow I actually started to care about you. But the truth is, I don’t know you. And you don’t know me. All along this was nothing but a game….” As if aware she was babbling, she snapped her mouth shut and swallowed hard.
Something within him cracked. He reached out and took her hand. “No. What we experienced was real, Beith—”
Beh-yeh.
She pulled away, brow knitted. “I have to go. I have to think.” Tears filled her eyes, and she again tugged the edge of his shirt down over her scarred thigh. “Where are my clothes?”
“I’ll help you,” he said, his voice strangling on the wholly unaccustomed feeling of being completely helpless.
“No,” she said firmly, getting up. “Let me know when Fionna gets here. Maybe I can talk Declan into letting her keep her job.”
She opened her mouth to say something else, and he braced himself. Nothing came out, but her conflicted emotions were clearly written in her eyes.
How could you do that? How could I do that?
And Kellan O’Neill experienced another new stab to his heart. Shame.
Fionna had been right—he should have backed out when he had the chance. He had underestimated the fragility of Beith’s battered spirit. Suddenly afraid of doing more damage than he’d already inflicted, he resisted reaching for her and kissing her senseless in an effort to change what he knew was coming. He could sense the progression of her thoughts behind her pretty brown eyes.
She turned to open a pannier and the first thing she pulled out was Fionna’s sweater. She stared at it a long moment, the emotions of the last two days playing across her face. “Hopefully she won’t mind if I keep this.”
“She won’t,” said Kel softly.
Beith hung up the phone in Kel’s bedroom and remained still for a moment, perched stiffly on the edge of the bed where just a few hours before she had thrashed like a wild woman underneath Kel’s straining body.
Who was that woman?
&
nbsp; At the remembered relief in Kemberlee’s voice, Beith allowed the pain in her heart to overshadow the physical aches the last twenty-four hours had bestowed.
Something about this land had swept her out of her good sense as much as his ability to give her mind-bending orgasms.
Her stomach felt hollow, that afraid-of-everything quiver that had been her comfortable, constant companion for far too long. She thought of the regret she’d seen in his eyes, and for one wild second all she wanted was to run down the stairs and still that trembling thing in the pit of her belly with his intoxicating scent, the warmth of his arms. She clamped down hard on the impulse.
No. Too easy. Things had happened too fast. She needed time to get her spinning emotions straightened out. They both did.
You disappoint me, daughter.
Beith closed her eyes and leaned one hand on the edge of the bed. Her flailing thoughts gladly latched onto the reason she had come to Ireland in the first place. The terns. The endangered birds who needed her talent to help them survive.
She shut out the Hag’s voice, finished putting on her clothes and left the bedchamber.
But not without one wistful glance back.
Chapter Seven
Four months later
Kemberlee Shea stood at the back of the exhibit hall in the Cleveland Museum of Art, watching the charity auction in progress. And sighed.
Sure, she’d be getting her cut from the sale of Beith’s newest wildlife paintings. But Beith herself had refused to take more than a token amount for the project, insisting the conservation organization that had commissioned the paintings needed it more than she did.
Kemberlee had almost been shamed into giving up a chunk of her cut, as well.
Almost.
But when she’d gotten a look at the collection, she knew instinctively how much they were going to fetch when they hit the auction block. Only a fool would give up that big of a chunk of change.
Okay, okay, so she’d donate a portion of it. But hell’s bells, she also liked to eat. And pay her rent. When the mass market designer collection hit the stores, they’d all be eating better. A lot better.
