His Fight: The Downing Family Book 5

by Wild, Cassie

  This wasn’t some generic, run-of-the-mill flower bouquet. Whoever had put this together knew their stuff. I put my wine glass on the table.

  Gingerly, I pushed the cardboard ring holding the vase in place down and carefully lifted the crystal vase. The vase itself was pretty, although nothing high-end or fancy. That didn’t matter, though.

  The flowers themselves absolutely blew my mind.

  Lilies. Roses of the palest purple imaginable. Bright, cheerful purple daisies mixed with long stems of snapdragons in the deepest shadow of purple I’d ever seen. There were other flowers that I couldn’t identify, mingled with baby’s breath and greens, forming a lush display so amazing, it took my breath away.

  I’d never seen a more beautiful bouquet of colors and textures so artfully mixed.

  Reaching up, I touched the velvety petal of a lily. “They’re lovely, Cormac. Thank you.”

  “Glad you like them.” He was quiet a moment, then he said in a gruff voice, “The girl who did the bouquet said I could go with red roses, but while that might make you smile, it wouldn’t be enough to make you forgive me for being boneheaded. I needed something more if I wanted to do that.”

  I looked up to see him standing just a foot away.

  “You think flowers alone will make me forgive you?”

  He met my gaze, and I could see the sincerity practically spilling from his eyes. “It’s not just the flowers, though, is it? It’s about the thought behind them. It’s about me spending the past week wishing I could undo what I said, even undo the stupid fight. It wasn’t worth putting a split between us, Briar. I’m sorry for it.”

  Dragging my eyes from his, I focused back on the flowers, rubbing the lily’s petal as I tried to figure out what to say.

  Cormac didn’t seem to have any such trouble.

  “Did I mess it all up?” he asked hoarsely. He stroked a hand down my back, from my neck, left bare and vulnerable by my ponytail, all the way to the base of my spine, just above my low-slung pajama pants. “Are you done with me now, Briar?”

  The blunt question got to me in ways I didn’t want to admit.

  Squeezing my eyes shut, I fought past the chaos in my heart, the noise in my head, and tried to think.

  He moved to stand behind me, and the feel of him made that simple task—thinking—so much harder.

  “Briar?” He pressed his mouth to my shoulder.

  It was like a wave of raw pleasure raced through me at his touch, erupting from that spot where he’d kissed.

  “You’re making it hard to think,” I told him. My voice sounded raspy and weak.

  “Just being near you does that to me.” His lips slid along my shoulder, up to my neck. “The past week has been hell, baby. Say you’ll forgive me. Please.”

  “The fighting has to stop, Cormac,” I told him. “If we’re going to try to do…whatever this is, the fighting has to stop.”

  “Understood.” He raked his teeth along the curve of my neck. “I’m done with it. I’ll only fight if I’m doing it to defend myself. I’ll even stop picking fights. Is that good enough?”

  A laugh bubbled up my throat, but I managed to swallow it. I wasn’t about to encourage him.

  Cormac caught my neck, right where it curved into my shoulder, and bit down.

  My head fell to the side, and I sighed, unable to resist him another moment.

  Cormac must have sensed it, because he slid a hand around and pressed it against my belly, pulling me back against him. A soft moan escaped me as his cock pressed into my butt.

  He started to rock against me, sliding one hand up to cup my breast, while the other held my hip still, holding me in place as he thrust against my ass.

  I grew wet, readying myself for him.

  When he turned me around, I half-expected him to boost me up onto the table, but instead, he swung me up into his arms.

  The world spun around us as he carried me out of the kitchen and up the stairs. His eyes locked on my face as he sat me on the edge of the bed, stripping away my cami, then moving down to deal with my pajama pants. Just like that, he had me naked.

  He boosted me farther back onto the bed and came down to lie between my thighs.

  I reached for him, but he caught my wrists, pressing them down into the mattress as he settled down with his head on level with my hips.

  He blew a puff of air against me, and I groaned.

  I arched up, an ache low in my belly.

  He was clearly aware of my desperate need because he pressed his mouth to me in a hot, open-mouthed kiss, swirling his tongue across me, pushing it deep into my cunt with no warning at all.

  I shoved up off the mattress with a cry, thrusting my pussy against his face.

  He responded with a harder, rougher kiss, gripping my ass in his hands and working me with both teeth and tongue.

  Sweat broke out across my skin.

  My heart lurched up into my throat, beating so hard, so fast, it was almost frightening.

  Black dots danced in front of my eyes.

  And still he kept fucking me with his tongue, then adding a finger, pushing it up into my pussy and twisting it, teasing me into riding him, working myself up and down while urging me on with his voice.

  “That’s it, Briar…show me how you want me…fuck my hand…just like that…fuck, you’re so hot…”

  He added a second, and I went flying over, coming fast and hard.

  Just as I started to drift down, he rose up and settled between my thighs, tearing at his jeans with hands made clumsy with desire. He didn’t bother stripping off his clothes, not even his jacket. He came inside me hard and fast, filling me completely. I arched up, gasping at his deep, hard possession. He grabbed my ass and hauled me up higher. At the same time, he moved up, shifting the angle so that each time he drove into me, he rubbed against my clit.

  “Briar…” he groaned. My name was a broken, rough sound, low in his throat.

  I cupped his face in my hands, pressing my mouth to his. I meant it to be a soothing kiss, but soon, we were all but biting at each other, sucking on each other’s tongues and lips, like we wanted to devour the other.

  I cried into his mouth as I started to come.

  He swore into mine.

  I felt his cock jerk, and then he shoved up onto his hands, driving into me with short, hard jabs of his cock, filling me as he began to climax.

  * * *

  A couple hours later, we sat curled up on the couch. I was back in my pajamas. He wore his jeans.

  The remains of a pizza sat in the box on the table, along with my mostly empty wine glass and two empty beer bottles.

  He’d told me he wanted to take me out for dinner soon. A real date. I’d said okay.

  Not long after, he’d fallen asleep. His head had slipped into my lap, and I sat there for a long while, combing my fingers through his curls.

  While a part of me had all but jumped up and clapped when I saw his car sitting in the driveway, then swooned and danced as he made his stilted apology, another part of me was still on guard.

  Something didn’t feel entirely…right.

  I couldn’t figure out what it was.

  Maybe I was just still holding a grudge. Maybe it had something to do with Isabel’s warning.

  Or maybe it was just because a part of me wondered if Cormac had any sort of feelings toward me other than the physical. I was in over my head. I didn’t know exactly what I felt, but I was twisted up in him so much, and I had no idea how he felt about me.

  It was…unsettling. I was used to knowing, or at least having a fair understanding about most everything.

  But when it came to emotions and relationships? I was clueless.

  * * *

  Wear something pretty…I hear women talking about how they all have a little black dress. I suppose you have one?

  I’d assured him I did. Actually, I had half a dozen, and come Sunday at six, I was wearing my winter favorite. It was knee-length, with ruching on the side and long
sleeves. Although I’d probably hate myself for going with a shorter skirt once we were out in the cold, I’d paired it with sheer tights and my favorite pair of heels, a sexy pair of Manolo Blahniks with an ankle strap.

  Because I wasn’t a total idiot out to torture myself, I had my ankle length cashmere coat out, hanging on the coat tree near the front door. In the mirror hanging over the Queen Anne table, I gave myself a critical once over. Hopefully, I wasn’t too dressed up. I had no idea where Cormac was taking me.

  The doorbell rang as I was stowing my lipstick.

  Leaving my purse on the table, I went to answer it. My breath caught in my chest when I caught sight of Cormac. He was wearing a battered leather jacket I’d seen a time or two, one that was probably a bit warmer than the denim jacket he usually had on, although not by much. Under the jacket, he wore a midnight blue shirt that looked tailor-made to fit his broad chest. The shirt was tucked into a pair of well-fitting dress pants that did amazing things for his muscled thighs, and I had a feeling they showcased his ass even better.

  “Wow,” I said. It came out sounding a little strangled. “You look fantastic.”

  His eyes roamed over me, a half-smile curving his lips. “And you look…delicious.”

  The low, rough timbre of his voice just about melted me, and I had to lock my knees, so I didn’t wilt right where I stood. “I…um…” I cleared my throat and turned away, knowing if I didn’t, I’d just keep stammering and staring. “I need to get…”

  What did I need to get?

  “Need to get…?” Cormac prodded.

  My gaze landed on my purse. “My bag!” I grabbed it and slung the gold chain over my shoulder before turning back to him. “I’m ready.”

  “While you do look delicious, you might want to get a coat, love,” Cormac suggested. “The wind is sharp and cold.”

  “Oh. Right.” I edged around him and moved toward the coat tree, feeling like a dufus. The dressy cashmere coat hung there, waiting for me, exactly where I’d put it. When I went to reach for it, though, Cormac was already there, taking it down. I glanced at him, brow arched. “Pulling out all the stops, aren’t you?”

  He smiled. “I’m trying.”

  I put my purse down and slid into the coat he held for me. The tips of his fingers brushed against my arms, and I shivered slightly.

  “Are you already cold?” he asked, voice low and husky.

  “No.” I had to clear my throat just to get the word out. He freed my hair from the collar, and I closed my eyes against the sensation of his fingers tracing over my skin. Easing away from him, I grabbed my purse and looked back at him. “Shall we go?”

  * * *

  I’d turned my keys over to Cormac, asking him if he’d like to drive the Ferrari. His eyes had gleamed with a hot, avid sort of joy that I’d come to associate with men and cars, so while he simply nodded, I assumed he’d given some thought to taking her for a spin.

  He handled the car well and didn’t do anything stupid.

  I was more than a little surprised when we pulled up in front of an old hotel known as Morris House. There was a rather nice restaurant inside the hotel. I’d been here several times, although only once on a date.

  Glancing at him, I said, “You really are pulling out all the stops.”

  “As I said, I’m trying.” He stopped in front of the valet stand and was at my door, offering his hand before I had even managed to get both of my heels on the ground. He helped me out and then turned over a few bills to the valet before offering his arm once more.

  “I never would have guessed there was such a gentleman lurking under those t-shirts and temper, Cormac.”

  A dull flush settled on his cheeks as we started toward the doors. “Well, my mum did her best to beat them through my thick skull. I guess some of them actually did sink in.”

  I gave him a slow wink, a grin taking up most of my face. “I guess so.”

  * * *

  By the time the sommelier left to fetch a bottle of wine, I wasn’t so dazzled any more. Cormac was trying to hide it, but I had a feeling he was doing all of this to put on a show.

  Not that he was trying to fake anything, but it was like…I couldn’t quite explain it, but I had the feeling that he thought this was the kind of thing I expected, so this was what he’d decided to give me, even though he didn’t seem entirely relaxed.

  He hid it well, but the longer the evening wore on, the more obvious it became—he wasn’t entirely comfortable.

  He covered my hand with his and smiled at me. “Are you having a good time?”

  “Yes.” And I was. Just being with him was enough for me. But I didn’t want him to feel like he had to act a certain way or do certain things simply because he thought I expected it. Turning my hand over, I twined my fingers with his. “Are you?”

  “I’m with you,” he said simply, stroking my wrist with his thumb. “That’s about all I need.”

  I wanted to probe and see if I was right about this whole set up, but I didn’t know how to go about it. So I just smiled.

  Next time, I’d plan the date, I decided. And it would be much more laid back.

  Twenty-Two

  Briar

  Cormac’s tension, palpable as it had seemed, started to fade once the food was served. As he relaxed, so did I, making it possible to simply enjoy the evening.

  He wasn’t too impressed with the wine, although I loved it. Feigning greed, I pulled the bottle to my side of the table and told him to order a drink for himself.

  He definitely didn’t waste any time asking the server what they had on tap, and she was more than happy to tell him about the local craft beers. When he couldn’t decide, she offered to just bring him a couple of samples, and while she was off getting them, he looked to me and asked if there was anything on the menu I thought he might enjoy.

  We chatted about the food until the server returned with several small glasses filled about a quarter of the way with various ales and brews, and I perused the menu while Cormac tried each of them.

  Once he had decided on a beer, I suggested an entrée for him and selected mine. While we waited for our orders, we talked about a little bit of everything, and not much of anything.

  He asked how my family was. I sidestepped the issue, not willing to talk about them with anybody right now, but especially Cormac, veering into safer territory and focusing on the holiday for a few minutes, before shifting the subject back to Cormac. “Will you be seeing any of your family for Christmas?”

  I knew he didn’t have much of a relationship with them. He’d made that more than clear, but I wasn’t about to get into verbal gymnastics with him about my family either. If he didn’t want to talk about his mom or dad, then he could pick another topic—one that didn’t include my family.

  To my surprise, Cormac looked down into his pilsner and studied the pale ale that had been placed in front of him a few minutes earlier. “That’s not likely, I don’t think, Briar,” he said, voice oddly somber. “It’s been a long time, but I reckon it will be a sight longer before we see each other again.”

  “You don’t sound overly happy about that.”

  “That a fact?” He looked up at me, surprise on his face. He considered it, then shrugged. “I’ve been thinking about them lately. My mum and da. My brothers and sisters. Haven’t seen them in ages. Haven’t even thought about them much, to be honest. But lately…” He stopped and shrugged. “Just been thinking about them.”

  “Have you considered calling?”

  The look he gave me at my question was one of pure surprise. “Now, why would I do a bloody thing like that?”

  “Because clearly, you’ve been thinking of them. As you said.”

  Before he had a chance to formulate a response, the server appeared, a heavy tray propped on her shoulder. “Alright, ladies and gents. I hope you’re hungry!”

  * * *

  As we walked out into the lobby, Cormac pushed something into my hand.

  I looked d
own as he pulled back.

  Puzzled, I studied the small plastic card, flipping it over in my hand. When I saw the front of it, the pieces fell together, and I looked up at Cormac.

  He lifted a shoulder. “I’ve got a room for the night. If you’re interested.”

  “A room.” Slowly, I looked back down at the card. I could have pointed out that my place was only twenty or twenty-five minutes away, maybe even less since it was later now, with far less traffic out on the road.

  But…why?

  Closing the distance between us, I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck.

  “If you’ve got a room,” I said, rising up on my toes and pressing a kiss to his lips. “Then what in the world are we doing down here?”

  A slow smile curled his lips, and he dipped his head, rubbing his lips over mine. “That’s a great question.”

  * * *

  The room was small but elegant, with a big bed that drew my eye the second I stepped in through the door. I’d slowed to a halt without realizing it, and Cormac nudged me from behind. “Mind if I come in?” he asked, pressing his lips to my ear.

  “Well, I don’t plan on taking that big bed all for myself.” I moved farther into the room and hung up the coat I’d draped over my forearm, looking around the room. It wasn’t out of any real interest, though. It was borne of a need to settle my nerves.

  But nothing in the room proved to be enough to soothe those jagged nerves. My belly was jumping, and it only got worse as Cormac came up behind me and rested his hands on my shoulders, pressing his lips to my neck.

  “I’ve wanted to put my hands on you all night,” he said against my skin.

  “What’s stopping you?”