She smacked his arm. “Don’t be a pig.”
“I have a healthy appetite for beautiful women, love. There’s nothin’ wrong with that.”
“Aye, well if your wantin’ this woman you’ll lose your taste for all others, do you understand?”
“Aye.”
They were silent for several minutes. She fidgeted as she waited for him to say more, but he didn’t. Finally, she broke the silence. “What does this mean, Frank? People will talk if they see us together.”
“It means I like you.”
“Like me? Why?”
He shrugged and pointed to his chest. “It’s here, in the way my chest gets tight at just the sight of you and I want to hold you fast, but never feel like we have enough time.”
“Oh.” That was rather sweet and more poetic than she’d expected. “Are you saying we’re…”
“I want you to be mine for more than a minute.”
Lots of things were longer than minutes but still quite short. “Are you askin’ to date me? I’m not trying to be thick headed, but I’ve never much dated and…”
“Aye. I’m wantin’ you to be mine, Maureen O’Leahy. Mine and only mine.”
Liquid heat swirled in her belly as her veins pulsed with excitement. “I can’t let my parents know.”
“It’s no one’s business.”
Insecurity made it difficult to look in his direction. She didn’t want to say the wrong thing and sound foolish. “I…I never much dated,” she repeated.
“Me neither.”
She laughed, still finding that hard to believe. A thought occurred to her and she frowned. “I’ll not have you hitting on other girls if you want to be with me.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
His gentle tone retrieved a bit of her courage. “And I’m not easy. I’m not promising you a thing, if you get what I mean.”
“Aye. It’ll keep.”
Shooting him a sidelong glance, she snickered. “You seem certain I’m keepin’ it for you.”
“You are,” he said with palpable cockiness.
Her mouth gaped at his surety. “There’s something wrong with you.”
“To be sure, but I speak the truth. I’ll have you, Maureen O’Leahey, make no mistake of that. I’ll be a gentleman for you, as you’re deserving of such, but make no mistake, I’m a man and I will not deny what I want no matter how long you deny me from gettin’ it.”
“Me? Am I the ‘it’? I don’t think I like that term, Frank.”
“There are other terms. Would you like me to whisper them to you?”
She rolled her eyes, disguising her intrigue. “No.” I’ll ask Colleen what the other words are.
After a long moment, he asked, “Did you not like my kisses?”
Her body burned, the heat of his touch still warming her blood. “It was fine.”
He laughed. “Pretty indifferent for a girl that’s not done much kissing in her life.”
She shrugged. She could be cocky too. Truth be told, she had to stop the kiss because the moment his lips touched her, her mind short circuited and she wanted to rip her clothes off and do all sorts of inappropriate things to him.
His arm slowly reached across the distance separating them, cupping her jaw as he dragged a thumb over her lower lip. Her breath trembled as she stared at him intensely watching the journey of his finger. The glass was beginning to fog. “Let me kiss you again, Maureen.”
“O-okay.” She should have said no, but what was the point? Nothing could be better for her in that moment than feeling his lips on hers once more. She was sure of it.
“Come here, love.”
He pulled her hand and she scooted closer. Gently brushing the hair over her shoulder, he leaned close. Her spine elongated as his breath skated over her jaw and his lips pressed to the side of her throat. His palm glided down her back igniting a fire in her bones. Chills chased over her shoulders and under her clothes. Soft kisses traveled to her ear and down her jaw until his mouth slowly found hers.
Her lashes drifted close as her breathing accelerated. She swallowed, parting her lips on a silent gasp as his mouth delicately closed over hers.
This time she was prepared—sort of. She waited for his mouth to open and when it did, she slowly teased her tongue with his and he groaned long and low, which she interpreted as him liking what she was doing. He pulled her closer, her body pressing warmly to his. Her lips closed over his, kissing gently in a rhythm that seemed right.
“That’s it. Kiss me back, love.” As he whispered, his lips still against hers, her flesh seemed to come alive.
Her heart raced as she lifted her hands and slid her fingers through his soft hair. How did anyone manage to have hair that silky? Rising to her knees, she crawled onto the seat and crept closer as he deepened the kiss. His hand slid lower, startling her as it cradled her behind, but then he slowly massaged and she pleasantly hummed into the kiss, lost once more.
The car became stuffy and a cramp was developing in her leg. She pulled away and looked around. People made out in cars all the time. There had to be a trick to it. “Should I lie down? Or should we go to the back?”
He frowned. “No.”
“Oh.” Self-conscious, she returned to the seat and fiddled with her hands as she glanced at her lap. Her dress was wrinkled and her stockings were slipping. She’d have to stop somewhere to fix her appearance before returning home, in the off chance that her father was still awake.
“You’re a dangerous lass, Maureen.”
“Why?”
“Because you make me forget myself. In about three minutes I’m going to leave and you’re going to go home, as innocent as you came.”
She frowned. “Why three minutes?”
“Because I can’t quite stand at the moment.”
She glanced at his lap and quickly looked away. “Oh.” Averting her face, she smirked, feeling more powerful than Wonder Woman in that moment.
“You’re rather pleased with yourself.”
Glancing over her shoulder, she smirked. “Rightly so. Look at the mess you’re in.”
“Wench.”
She sent him a promising look. “We don’t have to stop you know.”
Arching a brow, he asked, “To what point? Eventually we’ll have to stop. I’d rather take it slow and pull back before I’ve lost total control.”
“Are you saying a man can’t stop if pushed too far?”
“No. I’ll always stop for you, love. No matter what. I’m simply saying the closer we get the more painful stopping can be.”
“You’re in pain?” She didn’t know men could feel pain from being denied.
“Not quite, but my body doesn’t understand why we stopped kissing.”
“So let’s kiss some more.”
His head tipped back as he laughed. “You’re going to be the death of me. What happened to all those standards you barked at me ten minutes ago?”
“That was before I realized how fun kissing can be.”
“My kisses,” he pointed out. “Only my kisses. You wouldn’t enjoy any other man’s kiss.”
She giggled. “You’re a possessive thing.”
“You bet your arse I am, woman. Remember that.”
A sharp thrill raced up her spine as his gaze turned territorial. She smiled. “I will, so long as you remember I’m the same.”
“I will.” He glanced at his watch and frowned. “It’s getting late. What time’s your ceremony tomorrow?”
“Four.”
“I’ll be waitin’ for you at the edge of the field where the big sycamore grows.”
Stunned he intended to attend her graduation, she smiled. “Okay.”
He leaned forward and brushed his lips lightly across hers. “Good night, love.”
“Good night—” She wanted to call him something sweet like love or dear, but lacked the courage.
He climbed out of the car and she immediately missed him, despite still being able to see him.
The tail lights of his truck lit and he returned to her door, carrying her purse.
Sliding behind the wheel, she rolled down the window. “You’ll be needin’ this I assume.”
She took the bag. “Thanks. And thank you for fixing my tire.”
He cupped her jaw, his fingers chasing over her chin and teasing the slight bow of her lips. “Any time. Drive safe.”
As he pulled away he took it slow, as if waiting for her to safely follow. He kept with her until she turned at the light in town. She watched as his lights worked up the mountain in the distance where he’d driven her the day they met. She didn’t know anyone lived up there, but now she was curious, curious about all things Frank McCullough.
Chapter Three
Frank waited for the crowd to break up as he leaned on the trunk of the sycamore tree. It had been years since he’d been on that field.
He’d stood through close to a dozen speeches and nearly six hundred names just to watch her get her diploma. Though all the women wore the same emerald gowns, Maureen wore it best. Her fiery red hair a sharp contrast to the dark green, her eyes vibrant under the green brim of her cap.
He was smitten. Typically he’d be ashamed at having such a reaction to a woman, but no one seemed to notice. His best friends, who would typically break his stones for such nonsense, were dealing with the same—all three of them under the spell of an O’Leahey woman.
Poor Liam was buried with the undertaking of O’Malley’s, but Frank didn’t have sympathy to spare for the man. No, all his pity went strictly to Paulie who was facing a life of matrimony to Maureen’s sister Colleen. He loved the girl, but wouldn’t marry her for a million dollars.
Maureen was different from her sisters, sweet yet feisty. She turned him on with just a smile and a quick flash of those sharp jade eyes. Aye, he’d definitely had his fair share of fantasies about her, but he needed to cool it until she was legal. Unsure if she was telling the truth about saving her virtue for her husband, he might be facing a longer sentence than what he was geared up for, yet he wanted her too much to walk away now.
It pleased him that she was the marrying type. So many woman foaming at the mouth these days to join the work force, he’d lost hope for finding a lass that shared his somewhat dated values. But Maureen was different and stunningly beautiful to boot. When he looked at her he saw life—a life he definitely wanted to grab hold of with both hands, knowing she could take a good squeeze.
Cap gone, the flash of copper hair was easy to spot. He grinned and fluffed the blooms in the bouquet that had wilted in the heat. The closer she came the faster his heart beat until finally her emerald eyes met his and she smiled.
Turning to the woman next to her, she excused herself and slowly walked to him, her gown flowing in the subtle breeze. She took his breath away faster than he could get it back. He wondered if he’d ever breathe right in the presence of Maureen O’Leahey.
“You came!” Her face wore a touch of rose from the sun that day.
“Aye. I brought these for you.” He held out the flowers and her eyes went wide.
Slowly, she took the blooms. Her copper lashes lowered as she breathed in the soft fragrance. Her gaze returned to his and she grinned softly. “You’re a sweet man, Frank McCullough.”
“It’s an important day for you.”
“Maureen.” Her expression turned apprehensive as her father called from about twenty paces away.
“You should probably return to your family,” he suggested.
She hesitated, glancing over her shoulder at her mother and father. “Wait here.”
Skipping off, he watched as she waved her hands, expressing each word she spoke as she likely asked permission to leave with friends. He knew there would be issues with a man seven years her senior gifting her with flowers and compliments, but perhaps the right thing to do was to act honorably and be upfront with his intentions.
Clearing his throat, he strode to where she spoke to her parents. “Pardon. I wanted to introduce myself. I’m Frank McCullough.”
“Oh, I know who you are, lad,” her father said, eyes shrinking with scorn. “What I don’t know is what you think you’re doing with my youngest daughter.”
“Shamus,” her mother gently scolded. “He’s Colleen’s friend. I’m sure his intensions are good.” Her accent was thick, traces of Maureen’s voice stretched over broken syllables and throaty elocutions.
“Quiet, Mary. How old are you, son?”
“I’m twenty-five—”
“And my daughter is seventeen. You keep away from her, understand?”
Stepping back, regretting he’d made the mistake of approaching her parents, he glanced apologetically at Maureen. Her brow creased and her face flushed. He’d expect to see a sheen of tears in a typical woman’s eyes, but none were in hers. Those wild sage eyes darkened to emerald as she scowled furiously at her father.
“Say your goodbyes, Maureen. We’ll see you at the car.” Mr. and Mrs. O’Leahey walked off and Maureen stared after them.
“I’m sorry,” he said, hoping she wasn’t too upset with his interference. “I only meant—”
She quickly turned. “I’ll meet you here in two hours. By then everyone will be gone.”
“But your father said—”
“Are you going to fight for me or not, Frank McCullough?”
“I don’t want to fight your father, Maureen. There are ways around this. Perhaps if I speak to him again—”
She waved away his words. “The man is as stubborn as a mule. If he gave Rosemarie her blessing to marry a man that stole from my mother’s family—”
“What? Liam doesn’t steal.”
She grinned, cheeky and full of secrets. “Did he not tell you then? My mother is first an O’Malley. That bar belonged to her cousins.”
He laughed. “I didn’t know. But now it’s her daughter’s, so perhaps Liam’s actions were not that criminal after all.”
“My point is, my relatives were livid, but my parents still allowed Liam and Rosemarie to wed. All you’re askin’ for is a date. He’ll have to accept that.”
But he was asking for much more than a date and her father likely knew that. Gently, he clasped her chin in his fingertips. “You’re a force to be reckoned with, Maureen.”
She laughed. “There’ll be no reckoning with me once I get something in my head. My mum says I’m difficult.”
“Aye.” And he wanted to take her, with all her stubborn difficulties and turn her soft like he had before. She was a temptation he had no comparison for. “I’ll see you in two hours, love.”
She nodded and bustled away, flowers fisted in her hand, gown flaring behind her like a queen.
“Frank…” her breathy sigh met his ears as he struggled to slow down.
The inside of the truck was hidden behind steamed glass and her plush little body cushioned him. Her mouth tasted of sweet cherries and her hair smelled of lemongrass. Her skin was soft ivory and she was wearing far too many clothes.
As her thighs bracketed his hips, his body rocked over hers. His pants were about to burst. He needed more. Anything. Sliding his hand up her calf and over her knee, he found the top of her stocking and glided his finger across the soft flesh there. She sighed and pulled back, her lashes slightly lifting.
“Your skin is so soft.”
“No one has ever touched me there,” she whispered.
“No one?” Could she truly be that virtuous?
Her head shook. Only a few inches and he could be inside of her. Honor battled with selfish lust and he—painfully—forced his hand out from under her skirt and sat up.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, her hair a tumble of red waves against his leather seats.
His body was on fire. “You undo me, Maureen. I have to remind myself how innocent you are.”
“I didn’t mind what you were doing.”
He swallowed. “I minded. It’s easy to get carried away.”
She shifted and fixed her
clothes as she sat up. Folding her hands on her lap, they silently stared anywhere but at each other for several minutes.
“Do you want me to go?” she asked quietly.
No. He wanted her to stay. “Perhaps you should.”
Her brow creased. “Is it because of what my father said?”
“No, love. It’s because of what you said. I aim to respect your wishes regarding your virtue.”
“What if I wasn’t a virgin?”
He laughed. “Well, then this conversation wouldn’t be happening.”
“So let’s remedy that.”
“Maureen!”
“What? It seems stupid to worry about such a thing that eventually won’t exist. You’re the first man I’ve liked, Frank. You can have my virginity. The way I see it, it’s really just in the way.”
She was out of her mind. “What about saving it for your husband?” Just yesterday she’d chastised him—slapped him—insisting she was saving herself.
She rolled her eyes and waved a hand. “You were being cheeky. Of course I wouldn’t give you anything then.”
He’d never met a woman like her. “And now?”
“Well…now you’re being sweet and I rather like your hands on me.”
His body shamelessly reacted to her words as his mind begged his arousal to quell. “I’ll not rush things with us, Maureen. It isn’t right,” he decided.
She huffed. Crossing her arms over her voluptuous chest, she threw her back into the seat. “Fine.” A few minutes later she asked, “Do you think it hurts? The girl…it’s supposed to hurt her.”
Christ, she’d be the death of him. “I hear the first time for a woman can be uncomfortable, but it gets better.”
“I’d like to get to the gettin’ better part.”
He laughed. “You’re not familiar with the term playing hard to get, are you, love?”
“Oh, I’m not easy. I’m actually quite selective. You happen to appeal to me. That can change at any moment though, so watch yourself.”
He chuckled and pinched her side, causing her to squeak and jump. “I think it’s you that needs watchin’.”
“It was nice that you tried to speak to my father today, Frank, even if it didn’t go the way you wanted. I think someday he’ll appreciate that.”
Hold Me Fast (McCullough Mountain Book 7) Page 4
