Lust Is the Thorn

by Jen McLaughlin

  And that made this whole thing even worse.

  I closed my mouth over him, rolling my tongue across the head of his cock, and sucked. “Rose.” He let out the rawest, most guttural moan I’d ever heard before. Sweat rolled down his face, and he tightened his grip on my hair. “More.”

  There was such authoritative command to his voice that there was no question about obeying him. My body responded to the orders he gave in ways I’d never felt before. I wanted to please him, to obey him, and that was an entirely new sensation for me. I’m not exactly the obedient type. I’m a Gallagher.

  I took more of him in my mouth, as much as I could, just like he asked, and I sucked hard. He pumped his hips gently, pulling out ever so slightly before thrusting back in. His lids drifted down, but he watched me from under them. He was so lost in wonder, his face lax and softer than I’d ever seen it before, and he watched me with a tenderness I’d never seen in his eyes.

  Like maybe he felt the connection between us, too.

  “Christ.” Crumbling, he thrust into my mouth, letting out a strangled groan. He massaged my scalp as he fucked my mouth, each thrust precisely timed and measured so he never gave me more than I could hold. He pumped his hips one last time and fisted my hair, yanking on it. “I’m going to come. You have to—Rose.”

  I sucked on him even harder, wrapping two fingers around him and pumping my hand on his shaft. He stopped trying to pull me off and tightened his hold on my hair instead, thrusting into me one more time, every muscle in his body flexing and hardening as he spurted inside my mouth. I swallowed every drop, slowly releasing him from my mouth.

  “Holy—” He broke off, grabbed the condom, and rolled it on his still-hard cock. “On your back. Legs apart. Now.”

  I gaped at him, since he’d literally just come. “Already? Are you able to—?”

  “Rose, I haven’t had sex for almost eight years, and all I’ve thought about every night is fucking you like this.” He curled his hand behind the nape of my neck, holding on to me possessively as his hand dipped between my legs, roughly tracing a circle around my clit. “If you think I’m going to end the night without burying myself deep inside you, you’re about to get one hell of a surprise, sugar.”

  His mouth melded with mine, and he lowered me to the floor with tender care. The second I was settled, he slid between my legs, lifted me up with a palm under my ass, and positioned himself at my entrance. For a second he paused, almost as if he was treasuring the moment, and then he thrust himself inside me with one hard, long stroke.

  I’d never felt so much, so fast, as I did with him.

  Just having him inside me, filling me, brought tears to my eyes, and I wrapped my body around him as best I could, wishing I never had to let go. His lips faltered against mine, but he pressed closer, pulling out of me and thrusting inside again, even harder. We both groaned, straining to get even closer. There was no such thing as being close enough to this man. Not when it came to Thorn McKinney.

  He let go of my ass and skimmed his hands up my body, closing them around my breasts as he pumped his hips. I cried out, letting him take me higher and higher till I wasn’t sure if I would ever come back down again. He rolled his thumbnails over my nipples, scraping them roughly, and then framed my face with both hands, holding me as if I were a prized possession. And in his arms?

  I felt like one.

  He rolled his tongue over my piercing as he kissed me, fucking me with hard, long strokes that hit places I’d never known existed. Even as he fucked me, showing me no tenderness or mercy, he somehow managed to make me feel cherished at the same time. I clung to him as best I could with a splint on my arm, unable to do anything more than hang on for the ride. The things he made me feel, the things he made me want, were too much to handle. Choking on a cry, I dug my heels into his ass, seconds from coming again, and not sure I could live through it this time….

  And 100 percent okay with that risk.

  His kiss softened, his lips moving over mine almost reverently, and he slammed into me. I came, harder than I’d ever come before, and it was like everything around me exploded in a burst of colors and pleasure. Thorn groaned and came, too, his hard body going even harder over mine before he collapsed on top of me, breathing heavily. I buried my face in his shoulder, not wanting to see the realization of what we’d done darken his face. Because once it did…

  He’d regret us.

  No matter what he said.

  “I…” He lifted himself on an elbow. I could sense him staring at me, but I kept my face averted, waiting for him to say something. Anything. “Rose?”

  I swallowed hard. My throat was dry, I ached between my legs, and my lips were swollen, but I had never been so deliciously spent before. “Yeah?”

  “Look at me.” He touched my chin, holding on to it lightly, and turned my face toward him. I let him, still avoiding his gaze. I focused on his cheek, right under his left eye, where the bruise I’d given him was fading. It was a good cheek. Hard. Sexy. Relentless. “Are you okay?”

  “Y-yes.” I let out a small laugh. “I’m great. Feel like a million bucks.”

  “Don’t joke about it.” His tone was hard, but his touch had never been softer. “I hurt you, didn’t I? I went too far.”

  “What?” Surprise had me finally looking at him. His jaw was hard, and his nostrils flared, but otherwise he seemed completely unemotional. “No. Why would you think you did?”

  “I lost control.” He had a melancholy emptiness in him, one that called to me more than ever before, and I longed to crawl inside him and fill all those empty spots that so clearly haunted him. “Something took over inside of me, something I didn’t recognize.”

  “I did.” I touched his jaw, running my knuckles over it like he had mine. His stubble was soft to the touch. “It was you. Just you…and me. Together. And it was beautiful.”

  That emptiness, those hard lines of worry, faded, and he dropped his forehead to mine, taking a deep breath. “The most beautiful thing I’ve ever been a part of. Rose…”

  “Shh. You don’t have to say it. I already know. Tonight was perfect.” I bit my lip and forced a calm expression to my face. “And I don’t want, or expect, anything more than what we just had. You don’t need to worry.”

  He cocked a brow. “So now you read my mind, too?”

  “Yeah.” I lifted a shoulder. “Was I right?”

  He cleared his throat. “Yep.”

  “Then I stand by my statement.”

  He skimmed his fingers over my cheek. “You’re okay?”

  “Of course. What’s not to be okay about?”

  Flexing his jaw, he said, “I wish—”

  I pressed a finger to his mouth, cutting him off. Whatever he was about to say would only hurt me in the end. “There’s no point in wishing, or in thinking of what could have been, or what we’re missing out on. We’re here right now, and we’re happy in this moment, so that’s all that matters. Why tarnish this perfect moment with all that?”

  He watched me. “That’s all you need? This moment?”

  “Yep.” I forced a smile. “Somewhere in another world, maybe there’s another version of us who can be together, but maybe there’s not. In another life, if we had been born into different worlds, maybe we could have been together. Maybe we could have been in love, and made this thing work between us. But in this life, with these versions of us? We can’t. You’re meant for another life. And that’s okay. I’m okay with that.”

  He swallowed hard and kissed me, his lips lingering over mine as if he knew, too, that this would be our last one. When he pulled back, he stared down at me with so much longing it stole the breath right out of my chest. “Sometimes, I can’t help it. I wonder what might have been.”

  “What might have been is over. It’s dead. Your future is carved out, and I’m so proud of you. So fucking proud. There’s no doubt in my mind that you’re on the right path. That you’re meant to be a priest. That you were called to this l
ife to guide people in ways that we should have been guided as kids. To save them.”

  His grip on me tightened, and he turned away. “That’s exactly what I want to do. I never told you that, did I?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe I just knew it, because I know you so well.” I forced a smile. “You’ve worked so hard, for so many years, and you’re close to achieving your dream. So don’t think for a second I wish for something else. I don’t. I won’t.”

  He turned back to me, his eyes blazing with so much emotion—emotion I couldn’t read. “And the job I got you? The apartment?”

  “I’ll take both. I’ll do that for you, because I know this is a way of making sure I’m okay before you take your vows, and go to whatever parish they assign you to.” I rested my palm against his cheek, and widened my smile despite the pain rocking through me. I was letting him go. I loved him, and I was sending him away. “So you can let go of this part of your life and accept the next chapter.”

  He shook his head, his hard façade fading away for a second, and ran his thumb over my lower lip, his face lit up with wonder and confusion. “Thank you.”

  “No. Thank you.” I kissed his finger, and caught his hand with mine, squeezing it. “I have one condition, though.”

  “What?”

  “When you think back on tonight, on this weekend, remember it with a smile. Remember the way we felt, the things we said, and know they were true. Every single word. And that maybe, in some other life, we didn’t say goodbye. Maybe, in some other life, we’re happy.”

  “Yeah.” His Adam’s apple bobbed, and he lowered his body over mine again, hugging me closer and hiding his face. “I promise.”

  We both fell silent, and as he held me tenderly, our breath matching, I let myself picture all the things we could have been, if we were indeed someone else. I pictured myself in church, with him standing at the end of the aisle smiling. He wore a black tux with a crisp white shirt, no clerical collar in sight, and I was covered from head to toe in white satin and lace. And that other me?

  God, she was so fucking happy.

  But I wasn’t her, and that version of Thorn I saw in my head wasn’t him, and I would never get that. I’d known that going in, and I accepted it. He was meant for greater things than being my man. Extraordinary things. And I wouldn’t be the one to hold him back. I loved him too much for that.

  So I had to let him go.

  Chapter 12

  Thorn

  The next morning, my packed bag waited by the door, and I stood in the sunlight streaming through the window, watching birds hop on the lawn in search of worms and then glaring up at the cloudless sky. The sun was bright, and so were the rest of the creatures outside this house, but I was in a foul mood. One I couldn’t shake. And I knew exactly why that was. It was because my time with Rose was at an end.

  I’d snuck out of her bed an hour ago, right before the sun rose, and my arms felt emptier than usual, because last night had been my last night to sleep with her in my arms. What had started as a way to comfort her had become more, something to treasure. I’d never get to feel that again. Never hold her again. Never wake up with her hand on my chest and her leg thrown over mine. Never breathe in her scent as I opened my eyes.

  It was gone. All of it was gone.

  Sighing, I rested my forehead on the cold glass. “I messed up, Mikey. I lost track of what I was supposed to be doing, and did what I wanted instead. I’m sorry for that, but I won’t let it stop me from fulfilling the promise I made when you died. Your death wasn’t for nothing. I swear it.”

  No answer came. Not a huge surprise there. He probably wasn’t speaking to me because I’d banged his sister last night. Totally understandable reaction. If he were alive and knew what we’d done, he would have beaten me within an inch of my life, and I would have deserved it. Rose should give her heart to someone far better than me. Someone who would cherish her, and never let her go. Never hurt her.

  A prince. Or maybe a king.

  Not me. Never me.

  Shaking my head, I returned my attention to the birds. The grass was frozen in an opaque crystallized version of actual grass, and I pressed my hand to the cold glass as the birds took flight and left. I watched them go with a heavy heart. Since Mikey had died, I had had one goal, and only one goal: to take my vows, become a priest, and make up for the fact that on that night almost eight years ago, I’d killed my best friend.

  It had all happened so fast.

  Mikey had started out behind the wheel, but at the first red light we stopped at, he’d passed out. Legitimately passed out. Knowing we couldn’t stay in the road like sitting ducks, I’d slid him mostly into the passenger’s seat and decided to pull off down a side street to find somewhere to park and sleep off the drugs fogging my mind. I’d been too wasted to think through my actions thoroughly. To think that maybe I should have just called for a cab and gotten help. Instead…I’d driven two blocks.

  Two. Damn. Blocks.

  That’s all it took to kill Mikey.

  I saw the empty parking lot I’d been searching for. Cars often parked there for carpools or bus trips, so another one in the lot wouldn’t be suspicious. When I turned left to approach the dark lot, I hit an icy patch on the road and slid. There was no time to react. No time to correct. I swerved off the road and hit a tree, and I found myself in the car alone, shaking and bleeding as I tried to figure out where the hell Mikey had gone.

  And then I found him…

  Bloody and broken on the road.

  As I fell to my knees beside him, I’d clutched his hand and asked him if he was okay. He said it didn’t hurt at all, and then choked on blood. After that, he’d said one word. One word only. Rose. Tears running down my cheeks, I’d sworn to take care of her. To protect her. To make sure that I never did anything like this ever again. That I would clean up my life. I’d promised him. And then he’d died.

  Just…died.

  Because I drove two fucking blocks.

  When the cops came to the scene and found Mikey’s car with a busted-out windshield and me clutching my dead best friend in my arms, in shock, the cops had written it off as a tragic accident, and the case had been closed without a full investigation. Typical South Side shit. Before I could even register what had happened, the medical examiner was bending over Mikey’s body, and paramedics were poking and prodding me. No one asked me a single question. No one thought I’d been the one driving. It took me three days to realize that. To come out of my shock and grief.

  To realize my crimes would go unpunished.

  I had tried to put it right, but no one heard me. No one cared. When I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror anymore, when I couldn’t live with the guilt anymore, that’s when I’d gotten the gun from Mikey’s room, walked past Rose’s room, where she was sobbing her eyes out, and gone to the closest church. I’d prayed for forgiveness, with tears running down my cheeks, and I’d prayed for the strength to either get clean or put a bullet through my skull. Neither one came.

  Father John had come instead.

  Back then, I’d decided to become a priest because at the time, it was pretty much the worst possible life I could imagine living. It was the one way to deny myself the life I really wanted. It was my own form of serving life in prison, and it had been fitting.

  But over the years, I’d accepted my guilt for what happened that night. I knew now that becoming a priest to atone for that guilt was wrong, but the funny thing was, sometimes God leads us down a path because we are supposed to learn a lesson, or make a choice. And the grief that had led me to that church that night, that had made me suicidal, ended up saving me. I had prayed for the strength to end everything, and instead, I’d found the strength to keep going. I could never fix myself, but I could help fix the world.

  What had started as penance had become so much more, but now the nagging hesitation I’d been feeling finally made sense. I loved Rose. I did. I loved her with all my heart and soul, and that love would ne
ver die. There would never be a moment when I wouldn’t wish for that other life with Rose, the one she’d mentioned where we were happy together.

  There would never be a time when I didn’t ache for that life. For her. For what we could have been. But after all I’d done, and all the pain I’d caused in this world, I couldn’t veer from my path. If I turned away from it now, from where I was meant to go, then I’d be that same selfish kid who hadn’t spoken up when the cops had assumed it was Mikey driving that car. I’d be focusing only on what I wanted, what would make me happy. As a priest, I would be serving my parishioners, putting their spiritual needs ahead of my earthly desires. Father John had saved me.

  As a priest, I could save someone else.

  I pressed my knuckles to my mouth and swallowed hard, staring outside with blank eyes. The bedroom door opened behind me, and I braced myself. I’d allowed myself one time with her, but that was all I got. If I still wanted to be a priest—and I did—I had to keep myself together.

  “Good morning,” I said, not turning around. “Did you sleep well?”

  “Like a baby,” she said cheerfully. “You?”

  “Yeah, great,” I muttered. “I’m going to miss that bed. It’s soft.”

  “Right? Me, too. It’s like sleeping on a cloud.”

  I forced a laugh. “Yeah.”

  “So, party’s over, huh?” she asked slowly, her tone just as cheerful as before. “Time to go back to our real lives?”

  It bothered me that she sounded so okay.

  Logically, I was happy for her. That’s who she was. She took what life gave her, and rolled with the punches. It’s what had made her such a strong person all these years. Why she survived. I didn’t want her hurting when I took my vows. Obviously. But it was the principle.

  I was breaking down, and she was smiling.