Welcome Home, Katie Gallagher

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Welcome Home, Katie Gallagher Page 21

by Seana Kelly


  “I’m going—” She floundered, gesturing vaguely. “Over there. I need to do something.”

  Eyes narrowed, I watched her and that almost kiss back away. “You have fun. Over there.”

  She spun and ran directly into Jane.

  “Oof. Whoa, you okay there?” At Kate’s nod, Jane continued, “Are you guys ready for another round?” Jane waited, blond hair tied up and serving tray at her hip.

  “Oh, God, no.” Katie glanced over at me and winced. “Water would be great, though. Thank you, Jane.”

  “Katie, it’s karaoke night. Will you sing?” Jane asked.

  I turned sharply to Katie. I didn’t know she sang. Her fair, Irish skin did nothing to hide the blush coloring her cheeks, as she madly shook her head.

  In the middle of Katie’s panic attack, Jane noticed my surprise. “Aiden, haven’t you ever heard Katie sing? Oh, you’re in for a treat.” Then she grabbed Katie’s hand and pulled her toward the makeshift stage in the corner of the lounge.

  With a hand firmly on Katie, Jane spoke into the mic. “Good evening, everyone. Welcome to Galyn’s karaoke night. If you’d like to try your hand at it, speak with Greg at the bar. He can sign you up. Now, some of you might remember Nellie Gallagher’s granddaughter, Katie, from when she’d visit here in the summers.” She raised their joined hands up high. “Well, here she is, come back to live with us. You might recall that flaming, curly hair of hers, or perhaps you remember her sharp tongue. Others may still be in awe of her legendary parade-float scandals.” If possible, Katie’s blush deepened. “But what I remember best about Katie is a voice that could make angels weep.”

  She squeezed Katie’s hand. “Now, as a welcome-back present for me, Katie is going to sing for us tonight. Greg, play ‘I Can’t Make You Love Me.’” Jane turned to Katie. “It’s my favorite, and you still owe me for covering for you when we were twelve,” she said with a smile.

  “Jane, not that one.” Katie’s whisper traveled through the microphone just as the first strains of the melody began.

  Jane ducked out of the way, and Katie was left standing in front of a live microphone. The lights dimmed while the spotlight illuminated her. She took a breath, her spine straightening, and began to sing about need and loneliness and settling for touch rather than love.

  The crowd slowly started taking notice. Most were still talking, but a wave of rapt attention gradually swelled toward the apple-crate stage. I’d never heard a more heartbreakingly haunting rendition of that song. To the rest of the patrons, drinking and chatting with friends, it was simply a surprisingly on-key performance. They didn’t understand that Katie was baring her soul, exposing a yearning for love that seemed forever withheld.

  It was too much, too intimate. I looked away from her, taking in the bar. All eyes were transfixed on Katie. I felt my atrophied heart lurch. I wanted nothing more than to turn off that damn song, pick up Katie and carry her away somewhere safe, somewhere quiet where I could hold her and love her the way I’d always imagined.

  When she stopped singing, the bar erupted in cheers. Katie laughed and took a very theatrical bow. How did no one notice the glassy sheen of tears in her eyes?

  When she popped back up, she leaned into the mic and said, “And that, Jane, is how it’s done.” She tapped her chin, eyes raised to the ceiling. “Now, I seem to remember a certain blonde waitress who spent many an evening when she was thirteen singing ‘Kiss Me’ to her hairbrush, while dancing in the mirror.”

  A bar towel flew at Katie’s face, but she snatched it out of the air. “What? I thought that was what we were doing.” She turned to the bar. “Greg, can you play Sixpence None the Richer for our scowling waitress? Payback’s a bitch, sister. Get up here.”

  The crowd snickered at the battle, before returning to drinks and talk. Having successfully thrown the attention away from herself, Katie skirted the periphery of the room and quietly made for the door.

  I stood to follow. Someone grabbed my arm, but I kept going. By the time I reached the street, she was gone.

  I did the only thing I could—I followed her.

  When I pulled up in front of her house, the lights were off. On the drive over, I’d tried to reason with myself, but my brain was a morass of conflicting impulses, incapable of coherent thought. I knew only one thing; I needed her.

  As soon as I slammed the truck door and started walking up the steps, Chaucer’s deep, menacing bark reverberated through the house. I reached for the bell, but the door opened before I made contact. Katie was standing in the dark, silhouetted in the doorway.

  I intended to chide her for driving when she shouldn’t have, to ask if she was all right. Instead, I stepped forward, took her in my arms and found her lips with my own. She gasped at the suddenness, and I took advantage, invading her mouth, sliding my tongue along her own. I put my hand at the back of her head and tilted so I’d have greater access to a mouth I needed like my next breath.

  Kate

  MY ARMS SLOWLY, tentatively crept around Aiden’s waist. His strength enveloped me. My fingers dug into the muscles of his back. I craved him with a mindless need that overwhelmed me. I felt lost and yet finally found. He leaned over and gathered me up into his arms, kicked the door closed and took the stairs to my room, two at a time, without ever breaking the kiss.

  He ducked under the low lintel into the bedroom. I didn’t want him to put me down. As my feet hit the ground, I strained on tiptoe not to lose the connection, but when his lips traveled across my cheek to kiss and lick behind my ear, my knees weakened and a moan escaped.

  His big, warm hands pressed me close before running under my sweater, spanning my back. A moment later, he pulled the sweater up and over my head, throwing it clear. He leaned back and looked down at me in my plain white bra and jeans. I felt suddenly shy, wanting to cover his eyes, not wanting to see disappointment there, wanting to pretend for just a bit longer that he desired me, just me.

  He slid the backs of his fingers along my ribs, before lightly cupping my breast, his thumb gliding back and forth over the skin above my bra. My breathing became shallow and my heart tripped. Was I really going to do this? He met my eyes, his thumb slipping lower to rub circles around the hardening tip he’d found hidden beneath the prim white cotton. My legs buckled.

  The chill I’d felt just moments ago disappeared under his heated gaze. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He found his way under my bra, his roughened thumb rasping against me; a shiver ran through my body. “Let me touch you, Katie,” he said before leaning down to take my mouth once more.

  In answer, I reached back, unhooked my bra and let it fall to the floor. I could feel his smile against my lips. I forced my hands in between us so that I could unbutton his shirt. I was distracted, though, as he deftly unbuttoned my jeans and dragged both hands down my body. My pants puddled at my feet, as he gripped my backside, pulling me up along the ridge of his straining jeans.

  He walked me backward until I’d stepped free of my clothes, the back of my knees against the side of the bed. I tried again to unbutton his shirt, but then he simply pulled it over his head, still buttoned, and let it fall.

  His chest was broad and muscled, a dusting of dark hair tapering to a thin line disappearing below the trim waist of his jeans. I ran my fingers over him as he had me. His skin was hot, shuddering at my touch. I traced the lines of his abdominal muscles, his breath hot at my neck before he grabbed my thighs, picking me up and coming down hard onto the bed with me.

  He slid a leg between mine, rubbing me in a way that made me come up off the mattress. “Shh,” he said before leaning forward and dipping his tongue into the hollow at the base of my throat. He dragged kisses down my body, stopping to swirl his tongue around my overly sensitive breasts.

  I wanted him now, but he was having none of it. He seemed determined to fondle, ki
ss, lick and bite every inch of my body. I was panting and moaning, bowing off the bed by the time I was finally able to loosen his jeans and drag them down his body with my feet.

  I wrapped my legs around him, cradling him between my thighs. He was right where I wanted him. I lifted my hips in invitation, and he groaned. I reached over and opened my nightstand drawer, revealing a large, multicolored assortment of foil-wrapped condoms. He raised his eyebrows in surprise.

  “Okay, see, there’s a really good reason I have—”

  He shook his head and kissed me, reaching into the drawer. “Later.” He ripped open the package, and I helped, maybe a little too well. Before long he was batting my hand away.

  He braced himself on his forearms, trying not to crush me, then swooped down and took my mouth, one hand at my breast, his hips shifting, poised at the entrance. He leaned back and looked down at me, eyes dark and heavy lidded, before he slowly surged forward. My head fell back as my body struggled to accept him. It had been a while since I’d had sex, and I was coming to realize that Justin wasn’t any better of a lover than he was a husband. When Aiden slid out and slammed home, all thoughts of Justin’s deficiencies were forgotten, along with Justin.

  My whole body felt like an exposed nerve, vibrating with too much pleasure. Once I found my release, Aiden followed me over. I lay trembling in his arms, never wanting to let go. Aiden shifted us, so his legs came up behind mine, his arm around my waist, my bottom nestled against his groin. I felt him kiss the back of my neck. “Sleep, sweet Kate, in your violet bower. I will attend you.” I had little time to wonder over his words before I was out.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Aiden

  I’D REACHED FOR her again and again throughout the night, overwhelmed every time that she was there, reaching back for me. I knew it was wrong, that I’d jumped into bed without a safety line. She hadn’t agreed to my friends-with-benefits idea. She’d looked appalled at the suggestion on the dance floor. But it felt too good to regret anything now.

  Snuggled up against me, her perfect ass warmed my cock, my hand wrapped around her, my thumb lazily circling a nipple, as I kissed her shoulder. She moaned sleepily, and I slid my hand down her stomach and between her legs. I knew she had finally woken up when she began to respond.

  She let out a deep throaty breath that almost did me in. “Don’t you ever rest?”

  I lifted her leg and placed it on top of my own, repositioning her. “You go ahead and take a nap. I’ll do all the work,” I said as I slid in.

  Her giggle was cut short on a groan. She reached back, her small hand grabbing my ass, pulling me more firmly against her. I slid one arm under her so I could play with a nipple while my other hand continued to slide between her legs. Her breath was coming faster. I could feel her tighten around me before she exploded, taking me with her.

  When I woke again, the room was light, and the other side of the bed was empty. Where did she go? Her bathroom door was open and the light was off. I slid out of bed, picked up the clothes I’d strewn around her room and dressed before continuing my search downstairs.

  At the bottom of the stairs, I heard soft, happy singing coming from the kitchen. I followed the sound, stopping and leaning against the doorway, watching Katie sing and dance her way across the kitchen. Hot damn, she was making us pancakes.

  “Smells great.”

  At my words she jumped, spinning around, a ladle clutched to her chest.

  I walked in slowly. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.” I leaned in and kissed the tip of her nose. Her cheeks pinked, making me want to throw her over my shoulder and carry her back up to that purple room. I needed food, though, so I tabled that idea for later in favor of pancakes. “Those smell good. Pumpkin?”

  “Pumpkin and chocolate chip.” She smiled shyly, turning back around to the stove.

  I intended to sit down and wait, happily watch her cook, but that shyness needed to be dealt with. I stepped up behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist, kissing her neck. “You’re my new favorite way to wake up.”

  She tilted her head, giving me room to play. She was wearing a robe, and now that I had my hands on her, I could feel nothing underneath the robe. I’d need to take advantage of that. After breakfast, because those pancakes smelled great.

  She pushed her butt back, trying to get me to stop crowding her so she could cook. It didn’t have the desired effect. I’d intended to retreat, but then her soft, unrestrained ass was brushing against my crotch, and I was rethinking waiting.

  “Sit, sit, sit. I’m cooking over here!” She swung an elbow, so I stepped back.

  I poured a cup of coffee and sat down. Watching her too closely gave me ideas, so I looked out the back window instead. “Should we be concerned that Pops is walking this way?”

  “What?” She squeaked, glancing down at herself and around the kitchen. She looked like she was getting ready to hide in the pantry closet.

  I laughed as she went on tiptoe to look out the window. Panic turning to confusion. Confusion slowly turning to outrage. I laughed harder.

  “That’s not funny!” She stomped back to the stove, grumbling, “Damn man.” She flipped pancakes and then pointed to her pantry. “The cereal is in there. Go make yourself a bowl. No pancakes for you!”

  I moved quietly across the room. I felt her jump when my arms slid around her again. I leaned forward and kissed her neck, nibbling up to her ear. My hands along her rib cage until each held an unrestrained breast. “I’m very sorry.” I sucked her earlobe while pinching her nipples. I felt her jolt again. “Am I forgiven?”

  She groaned, leaning into me. “What?”

  I grinned against her neck, sliding a hand inside her robe. “Can I have some pancakes?”

  “Hmm?” It took her a second before she stood straight and shook me off. “Damn it! Stop that. I’m cooking over here, and you just made me burn this batch.” She used her spatula to pick up all three pancakes and drop them into the trash. “Those were yours.”

  I sat back down. “You have an evil streak.”

  She brought a plate to me a moment later. “Fine. You can eat.”

  “So gracious.” I reached for the syrup, drizzling where I would normally drown, not wanting to cover up the taste of her food. She joined me a moment later with her own plate of pancakes. I slid the syrup bottle across the table to her. She stared at the bottle for a moment before giving a slight shake of her head and picking it up.

  “What?” I took a bite of pancake, and sweet, tangy deliciousness exploded in my mouth. I might have groaned. It would have been appropriate.

  She smiled, pleased with my reaction. “Nothing. I intended to pour the syrup into a gravy boat or something so I could heat it up. Gran would be annoyed with me for having a cold syrup bottle on the table.”

  It was hard to stop eating to respond, but I forced myself. “Eat. They’re perfect.” I watched her take a tentative, assessing bite of pancake. I grinned when her eyes lit up. “Right?”

  We ate silently, each lost in thought. As I finished, though, my thoughts took a decidedly carnal turn. I watched her finish, slid back in my chair and crooked a finger. She stared at me, unimpressed. “I’m trying to thank you for breakfast, woman. Come over here.”

  “I can hear just fine from here.” Her expression was blank, but her eyes were laughing at me.

  I noisily slid the table to the side so there was nothing between us. “Damn it. Will you get over here, please?”

  “I don’t see why.”

  I leaned forward, grabbed the legs of her chair and slid her to me, pleased I had her closer to where I wanted her.

  She crossed her arms. “What?”

  I brushed her robe off one knee so I could touch her skin, my fingers lightly trailing over and around her leg. I never took my eyes off her face, g
auging her reactions. She took a deep, slow breath, continuing to feign disinterest. I brushed her robe off her other knee, both hands caressing her thighs. I watched her eyes dilate as my fingers explored under her robe.

  She shifted in her chair, just a subtle adjustment, but one that widened the space between her legs. My thumbs brushed across her inner thighs, back and forth, until they found what they were looking for. Katie’s arms lost their tension, dropping to her sides. My thumbs parted her, sliding up and down, slick. My fingers tightened around her thighs, pulling her forward so I could explore her more easily.

  Her breathing had changed to shallow pants, her eyes sleepy as she watched me. I slid one thumb inside her while the other circled. She was gorgeous to watch, but I couldn’t wait. I dropped to my knees, needing to taste her. My tongue explored. When I felt her clench, her orgasm rolling through her, I unzipped and pulled a condom from my back pocket.

  She was so adorably spent, she barely noticed when I untied her robe and brushed it off her shoulders. I pulled her off the chair and brought her down on top of me. She climaxed again. I grabbed her ass, holding it to me as I pumped into her. She leaned back, her hands gripping my shoulders, as I took her breast in my mouth. She squirmed, moaning. My thumb circled between her legs again as our mating became more frantic.

  When I felt her tighten and shake, I let go, groaning. God, she was perfect. Just so damn perfect. I held her to me, never wanting to let go, never wanting her anyplace than where she was right now.

  After a few minutes, I tried to get up.

  “What... Why?” She snuggled into me, her head on my shoulder. “Comfy.”

  “Shower.” I kissed her cheek. “Do I need to carry you or can you move under your own steam?”

  Her voice was soft and sleepy. “No steam. Steamless. Must carry.”

  My thigh muscles were already a little shaky, but I powered through and stood. Climbing the stairs was particularly interesting. But by the time we reached the top, she wasn’t sleepy, and I had different ideas about the shower.

 

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