“Killian—”
“You kissed me and I’ve been waiting for that all these years. I didn’t know what to do.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“No, don’t be.” He dragged his thumbs over my bottom lip, pressing a little harder than he probably intended to. “I’m glad you did.”
“Killian, please sit before you fall.”
He inclined his head, looking over his shoulder at the couch. “Come with me.”
We leaned on each other, his hand strong as he helped me keep the weight off my foot. We fell together, finding ourselves tangled together on the center of the couch. He brushed the hair out of my face, staring at me for a second before he suddenly kissed me, returning exactly to where he’d been when he walked out of my apartment hours ago. I couldn’t help myself. I opened to him, tasting the whiskey on his lips as he captured me, reclaiming what I’d so willingly given to him before.
This was what I wanted. I wanted to convince him that he wanted me, that he was willing to commit to me where he hadn’t been willing to commit to anyone else. I wanted him to need me. I wanted him to put me in that place where only my betrayal could destroy him the way his part in Davis’ death had betrayed me.
I moved against him, deepening the kiss with an enthusiasm that I might not have felt under any other circumstances. But this was what I wanted. This was what I was going to do.
His hand slipped under the back of my t-shirt, slipping up over my back, around my ribs. His hands were warm and surprisingly soft, as one slipped around to my bare breasts, the other down over the panties I was wearing underneath the thin shirt. I was ready for bed, not really expecting any guests. My near nakedness should have embarrassed me, but his touch woke things inside of me that had been dead for far too long.
He rolled a little, moving so that we were lying almost face-to-face on the narrow couch. His hand on my ass held me in place and kept me from rolling to the floor. And his kiss moved from my mouth down my throat, making my head spin as I closed my eyes and allowed the sweet sensation of his heated breath wash over me. Had it really been so long since I’d been touched this way? I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been so completely aroused. I wanted his touch. I didn’t just know that I needed it, but I wanted it. I wanted his fingers digging into my ass, and I wanted his palm rubbing against my nipples. I wanted to feel the hardness of his masculine body against mine, and I wanted to welcome him inside of me. I could feel my insides turning to liquid. I could feel my belly quivering in anticipation. I had never known it was possible to want someone as completely as I wanted Killian in that moment.
What was wrong with me?
And then he was pulling away, extracting his hands from my clothing.
“What are you doing?”
“It shouldn’t be like this.” He sat up, buried his face in his hands. “I’m sorry.”
“Killian, it’s okay. It’s not like we’re really related.”
“I know. I just…I’m drunk, Stace. I don’t want to do anything that we’ll regret later.”
“I think in order for you to take advantage of me, I have to be the drunk one.”
He smiled when he peeked at me around his hands.
I touched his shoulder, squeezing my thighs together in an attempt to cool the heat that was suddenly alive there.
“We’ll talk in the morning?”
He nodded. “I’m sorry.”
I shook my head. “Stay here tonight. I don’t want to worry about you trying to make your way across the street.”
“Thanks.”
I kissed his cheek lightly and stood, hobbling as sexily as I could across the room. I turned back at the doorway and caught him watching me. There was this look in his eye that made my belly quiver again and made the fire inside of me burn relentlessly. I wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight, but that was okay. It would give me time to remember why I was doing this. The only problem was, when I closed my eyes, it wasn’t Davis’ face I saw as it had been every night for the last six months. It was Killian’s.
Chapter 8
Killian
I woke with a blinding headache the next morning. I hadn’t had a drink in six months, so it probably wasn’t a surprise that mainlining whiskey all day would leave me in such a condition. I stumbled into the kitchen and located the bottle of aspirin I knew Stacy kept there, swallowing a handful with a few gulps of water that did almost nothing to wet the desert in my mouth.
Stacy was still asleep. I remembered most of what had happened the night before, but not all of it. I remembered touching her. I remembered the feel of her skin under my hands, the taste of her lips on mine. I remembered her smile and watching her hobble away from me. I remembered the desire to get up and go after her, but the heaviness of my body and the weight of the alcohol keeping me anchored to the couch.
What would she have said if I had followed her into that bedroom?
I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be with her. Momma would roll over in her grave if she could see me now. And what would Pops do? He sent me here to protect Stacy and I was on the verge of violating her last night, of taking away what little innocence she still possessed. What kind of man was I to do such a thing to a woman who was as much my sister as she would have been had my mother given birth to her?
It was wrong and I shouldn’t be here. But what choice did I have?
I rinsed my face and my mouth in the water from the faucet, running my wet hands through my hair so that it was damp and dripping when I straightened again. I felt a little more human when I returned to the couch and bent low to pull my shoes on. The least I could do was disappear before she woke.
I’d run it over in my mind again and again yesterday, finally ducking into a bar because I couldn’t do it anymore. But what did that say about me? It just suggested that I wasn’t strong enough to do what needed to be done. That I was good at running away, but not so good at facing the truth of a situation.
I wanted Stacy, but I’d convinced myself a very long time ago that I couldn’t have her. When she kissed me…everything was suddenly turned upside down.
Was it possible? Could she feel the same way I did? Was it possible that I could have what I’d wanted all these years?
I slipped out the door and was nearly to my own door when my phone vibrated in my back pocket.
“So…you left an interesting message on my voicemail,” Kyle said.
“Hey. Sorry about that. Yesterday was kind of a difficult day.”
“Were you drunk?” There was clear amusement in Kyle’s voice. “Not like you to drink to excess.”
“Yeah, well, some days call for a good drink.”
“And you are Irish. Sometimes you simply can’t fight your heritage.”
“Ha, ha.” I pushed through the door of my room, sinking down onto the couch with a heavy sigh. “What did I say?”
“Something about fate and love. I don’t know, you were sort of mumbling.”
“Sorry about that.”
“How’s Stacy?”
I glanced at the windows that looked onto her apartment. “She’s sleeping, I think.”
“It is fairly early. Pops has us all up early for a shipment. Jack’s trying to switch things up and do it earlier in the day so that the Italian might not realize what we’re up to.”
“You’re going?”
“All hands on deck. Pops even talked Sean into coming.”
“Sean? He’s never gone on a run before.”
“Yeah, well, he’s about to get a first class seat on one. Wish us luck.”
I leaned forward, resting my aching forehead on my hand. “Are things really that bad?”
“The Italians took our four of Jack’s men just last week. Pops is feeling the heat, and he’s letting it roll downhill, if you know what I mean.”
“Surely Jack understands that even though we provide protection, we can’t predict everything.”
“Yeah, well, every time one of his guys die
s, he comes looking for Pops. He thinks that someone in the family is giving intel to the Italians.”
“Why would he think that?”
“Because the Italians always seem to know where we’re going to be before we get there.” I could hear the tension in Kyle’s voice. “It’s bad, bro. Pops sent Kevin away last night. Made him go to the cabin down in Florida. He wanted Brianna to go with him, but she refused to leave her mother. So he told Cassidy to go, too, but she refused to leave Pops. It’s insane.”
“I should be there. I should come home.”
“Pops thinks that Stacy might still be in danger. He won’t let you.”
“But I should be there!”
“It’s not my call. Maybe you should talk to Pops yourself.”
“Yeah, maybe I should.”
I stood and walked to the window, spotting Stacy just as she crossed the street in front of a speeding taxi. The man yelled something at her, and she offered him a middle-fingered gesture, a bright smile on her face as she did it. It was almost as if she was born in this city.
“I’ve got to go. Keep me informed, huh?”
“Of course. But you might cool it with the drunk dialing.”
Kyle was laughing as he hung up. I set the phone on the coffee table and opened the door before Stacy had a chance to knock.
“Are you always standing at that window?”
“No.”
She brushed some hair out of her face as she looked up at me. There was something in her eyes…I wanted to kiss her and that made me step back because I wasn’t quite sure I could trust myself.
“Do I smell?”
“I probably do.”
She smiled softly. “Maybe we could take a shower together.”
Oh, my God!
She limped a little as she came inside, taking advantage of my distraction to invite herself in. She brushed her hair out of her face again, a nervous habit I knew all too well. Her eyes moved around the room, settling on my unmade bed.
“You were gone when I woke up. I thought we were going to talk this morning.”
“I was pretty drunk last night. I’m not sure…”
“You don’t remember?”
“Only bits and pieces.”
She blushed, suddenly looking uncomfortable.
“Maybe I should go, then.”
“No.” I moved between her and the door, blocking her exit. “I remember enough.”
I lifted my hand to touch her, but I stopped myself just before I actually cradled her jaw in the palm of my hand. But she took my hand and pulled it to her, encouraging me to do what I’d wanted to do. I stepped into her, drew her close to me.
“Is this crazy? Am I pushing you into something you don’t want to do?”
“No.” She rested her hands against my chest, staring at her own fingers for a long moment. Then she looked up at me. “I don’t know what’s happening here anymore than you do. I just know that when you brought Sara up here, it killed something inside of me. And then when we kissed yesterday, something that had died long ago suddenly came back to life. I shouldn’t want you, I know that, but I do.”
“Maybe I should go back to Boston.”
She wrapped her fingers in my shirt, shaking her head as she looked up at me. “Please, don’t do that. I’ve already lost so much, and I don’t want to lose you, too.”
I groaned as I slid my fingers into her hair. “You won’t lose me.”
“Please, Killian…”
We kissed, a soft brushing of the lips. Then I pulled back, drawing her tight against my chest.
“Go home. Let me take a shower and clean up a little. Then I’ll come over so that we can talk.”
“Promise?”
I nodded, as I kissed her forehead lightly. “I promise.”
I watched her go, turning back to look at me several times as she limped down the stairs on that injured foot. I rushed into the bathroom, showering faster than I’d ever done in my life, careful to brush my teeth well, using more mouthwash than necessary. I felt like I was sixteen again, spraying cologne on my junk because I was hoping my date would be adventurous with her oral talents. Funny how you never outgrow some things.
I picked up coffee and pastries at the little shop down the street. She didn’t open the door to my knock, so I dug out my key and let myself in, thinking she might be nursing that foot. But she was nowhere to be seen in the living room.
“Stacy?”
Concern made my chest feel tight. I went to the kitchen, then the powder room. The last place to look was the bedroom. When I stuck my head around the door, I found her. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, naked save for the thin blanket she had draped over her chest and lap.
“What are you…?”
“I thought we’d done enough talking.”
“Stace, I don’t think—”
“Tell me you don’t want me and I’ll get dressed. I’ll call Pops myself and ask him to call you home.”
Just the thought of leaving her made my chest ache. I couldn’t. I couldn’t leave her; I couldn’t hurt her; I couldn’t allow anyone else to hurt her. I studied her; I studied the way her generous curves seemed to turn that simple blanket into the most erotic piece of cloth I’d ever seen. I wanted her in ways I’d never wanted anyone else. I wanted her more than I wanted to breathe.
I crossed the room, cupped her chin in my hand, and forced her to look up at me.
“Are you sure?”
There were tears in her eyes, but she nodded.
“Stacy—”
“Don’t make me beg, Killian.”
I dropped to my knees because the need I heard in her voice was just that overwhelming. I lay my head in her lap and wrapped my arms around her hips. She ran her fingers through my hair, a few tears dropping on my cheek from her beautiful eyes.
It took me a minute to get control over my emotions. And then I kissed the bare flesh on her thigh, the warm bronze of her skin like brown sugar, the sweet touch of her fingers in my hair like the touch of an angel. I pushed her back against the mattress and slowly worked my way up, dragging my lips over her ribs, slipping my tongue around her nipple. I nibbled at her throat and tasted the sweetness of her jaw. And then I captured her lips and nearly cried out when she responded, parting her lips ever so slightly to welcome me inside.
She wanted me. There was nothing better in the world than knowing the woman I loved wanted me.
Chapter 9
Stacy
I wasn’t sure what he would do when he came into the bedroom. But when he fell to his knees…my heart broke.
This big, powerful man was awed by my gesture. What did that say about him? What did it say about me?
Was I really sure I wanted to do this? No. But when he touched me, there was no doubt in my responding touches.
He was in no hurry. His kisses lingered in a way no one else’s ever had. I was not the most experienced girl in the world. There’d been boys—there’d always been boys—but never anyone I wanted this close. Even Davis. I was hurt by the actions of my biological parents. It was hard for me to allow anyone close. Davis broke through those walls, but we were still working on some of my issues. He was patient—maybe not as patient as I might have liked, but patient enough. We were so close, and I really loved him. He was my whole world.
How could I do this?
How could I not do this?
My head spun when Killian kissed me. There was power in his kiss, but there was also a gentleness that made me feel a sense of security I’d never known before.
I wrapped my arms around him, tugging him as close to me as I could get him. His hands slipped under the blanket, one palm so large that he could cup my ass and still have room for more. His fingers were long enough that I could feel them seeking out private places that had been so rarely touched before this moment. He held one of my breasts, not squeezing or molesting it as I’d come to expect from a man, but simply holding it, rolling the nipple against his palm. I couldn
’t help the moan that slipped from between my lips. I loved the way it felt. I loved the gentleness mixed with eroticism. I was wild at the thought that this kind of physical pleasure actually existed in the real world, not just between the pages of some cheap romance novel.
I tugged at his shirt, needing to feel the warmth of him, to feel his skin against mine. After a few desperate tugs, he pulled back and lifted it over his head, exposing a chest that was like something out of a Hollywood movie. Tattoos I didn’t know he had were scattered across his bare pecs. I touched one, but he tugged my hand away, capturing it under his own as he returned to my mouth, as he invaded me again, touching me in all these sensitive places I didn’t know I possessed.
His muscles moved and pulled in his back, strong and ropy, so full of power that I could almost feel it vibrating under my hands. He pushed my knees apart with his own knee, laying against me, his erection hard as steel underneath the pliable denim of his jeans. My heart leapt into my throat when I felt it, a familiar fear building in my chest. But he didn’t force me to touch him, and he didn’t force himself against me. He didn’t do anything but continue to touch me with that gentle touch. After a moment, my heart moved back to where it belonged, and my fingers began to wander almost of their own accord.
His mouth, his lips that were so much softer than I ever imagined a man’s lips could be, moved over my chin. He nibbled at my throat again almost as though my neck was the best tasting thing he’d ever had. And then he was sucking at my nipples like a babe at the breast, the sensation driving through my body straight to my lower belly, creating this sensation of need, of primal desire, that I’d never known before. I arched my back, a low moan like nothing I’d ever heard before making its way out of my throat.
And then he was moving lower over my body and I wasn’t sure I could handle it. I was no longer in my bedroom, no longer doing something I couldn’t have imagined myself consenting to just a week ago, a few days. But then…oh, my God!
If I’d known…
He knew what he was doing. I was lost, falling deeper and deeper into territory I’d never walked before. But he knew what he was doing, and he was so incredibly good at it. His tongue against my clit, his fingers sliding inside of me…I wanted to scream, but I was afraid to voice my pleasure for fear that he would stop. I was afraid to move because he might stop. I gripped the bedsheet beneath me, tearing at it, biting my lip so hard that I was pretty sure I might have tasted blood.
THE CALLAHANS (A Mafia Romance): The Complete 5 Books Series Page 22
