Friday I'm In Love (Wild Irish, #5)

by Mari Carr

  So why was she laying on a bed with Ewan’s cock in her mouth, not giving a shit if he returned the favor?

  She was happy because he was happy. That couldn’t be normal.

  “Come here,” he said gruffly, reaching under her arms to pull her to his side. When they were face-to-face, he gave her another one of those magical kisses. It was deep and strong and felt like so much more than a mere merging of lips. He was fucking with her head and she was letting him.

  His hand drifted to her aching pussy and she cried out at the first touch of his finger on her swollen clit. He pulled away from her mouth and looked at her. Simply watched her face as his fingers continued to play, his strokes coming faster, stronger, going deeper.

  He pushed her onto her back. “Open your legs.”

  Her knees fell apart as two fingers speared into her vagina. “Ewan,” she whispered, loving the sound of his name.

  “I’m right here.”

  She gripped his shoulders as he worked his fingers into her sheath, each thrust driving her higher than she’d ever imagined flying. She groaned when he rose up and knelt between her legs. His hot breath on her pussy branded her, the added sensation killing her with pleasure. He took her clit between his teeth and she was reminded of the nip she’d just given his cock. His tongue explored her mons while his fingers maintained their relentless, glorious pounding.

  She was on the brink of a climax, but knew it wouldn’t be enough. “No,” she said, grasping his wrist, trying to halt his lovely assault. “You. I want you. Inside me.”

  He looked like he wanted to protest and she wondered for a moment if it was too soon. He had just come. Her worries were swept away when he rose on his knees, his erection riding thick and high against his stomach.

  “Roll over,” he said, lifting her hips, turning her until she was on her hands and knees in front of him. “I want to go deeper. So deep I get lost. I never want to find my way out again.”

  She shivered at his sensual words. Her heart inviting him in, luring him into the darkest depths, determined to hide him from her fucked-up head.

  She looked over her shoulder and grinned. “So get lost.”

  He groaned as her familiar taunt took on new meaning. Gripping her hips, he pushed himself into her so slowly, she wanted to scream. She fought to press back against him, determined to speed up his pace, but his hands held her fast, holding her hostage to his will.

  “Ewan,” she said, her fists gripping the sheets in the face of his torment.

  “Not yet.”

  Onward he pressed until he was finally—finally—buried to the hilt. He stopped for a moment, bending forward, his lips grazing the skin at the nape of her neck. “You belong here, Nat. With me. Always with me.” His whispered words resonated too strongly and her throat seized up on her reply.

  Ewan didn’t seem to notice as he continued. “If you would just crack a window in that heart of yours, you would see the truth.”

  She shook her head once, trying to ward off his words.

  “I’m going to prove it. I’m going to take you now. Take you hard enough to shake the rafters, crumble your foundation.”

  She was trembling, fear laced with an unbearable lust. If anyone could drag her from her self-imposed exile, it was Ewan.

  He didn’t wait for a response. He merely pulled his cock out until just the head was seated inside her opening. And then he took her, just as he said he would.

  She gasped as he pummeled his way into her body, into her heart. His hands tightened on her waist and it was all she could do to hold on to the bed. As he thrust, he showered her with words—beautiful, powerful words of love, of lust, of need and desire. He shattered her resistance as his motions sped up, quicker, harder.

  “God, yes,” she cried.

  Reaching around her, he pressed his fingers against her clit. She trembled as he provoked a landslide of sensation and she felt herself tumbling, plummeting toward the ground. She expected to smash with the impact but as her orgasm took her, Ewan’s arms enveloped her, held her as she shook, and she knew no matter what happened, he’d catch her.

  His movements never ceased. She was caught up in a whirlwind, her senses on overload as she tried to process his words, savor the smell of their combined juices—sex and sweat had never seemed so potent. Her skin was almost painful to the touch and yet that’s what he continued to do, rubbing her arms with his rough palms, caressing her back with kisses then nipping at her shoulders with his teeth while holding her legs open with the firm press of his knees. His strong touches told her she’d never be denied, never be turned away.

  He continued his thrusting as a second climax built.

  “Come with me this time,” she cried. “Don’t wanna be alone.”

  He tightened his hold, plunged deeper, and when she came again his groans mixed with hers and they fell to the mattress in an exhausted heap of naked, sweaty body parts. Natalie loved the feeling of his legs tangled with hers, his arms wrapping around her chest like a vise. She didn’t want him to let go, but she didn’t know how to ask him to stay. How could she ask him to take a chance on her?

  For several moments they were quiet. Natalie was surprised to discover she’d drifted back to sleep. When she opened her eyes again, Ewan was pulling the sheet over her chilled body. She turned in his arms, uncertain of her emotions, her words. As she looked up, he smiled. The same crooked smile. And she knew she didn’t have to say a thing. It was Ewan. He knew her. Knew her and accepted her.

  He bent down and kissed her, one soft, almost platonic kiss. “I have to get ready for work. I’m on the lunch shift again.”

  “I’m going down to the waterfront today with Teagan and your pop. There’s a florist down there she wanted to check out and I wanted to get some pictures of them by the Bay. Sean’s going to come along and be our muscle.”

  Ewan laughed. “Still can’t get used to Teagan getting mobbed by fans.”

  “It’s not that bad for her. Yet. She’s making more of a name for herself with the songwriting than the singing, though her singing career isn’t going so bad. Sky has it worse because, much as it pains me to say this, women are insane when it comes to rock stars.”

  “Yeah, I’ve witnessed some of that insanity these past few years. I don’t know how he can stand the screaming and crying and grabbing.”

  Natalie stretched onto her back, marveling at how natural it felt to lie in bed and talk to Ewan. No matter where they were, what they were doing, he was simply easy to be with.

  “You know, parking is expensive downtown. Why don’t you guys cab it to the waterfront and I’ll pick you up after the lunch shift? There’s a really nice park on the outskirts of town you might like. You could take some photographs there and then we’ll all go out to dinner.”

  Her mind was already thinking of all the pictures she’d love to take of Ewan. With his dark hair and eyes, his chiseled jaw, she knew he’d be a wonderful model. She’d love to shoot him in black and white. Her mind’s eye started creating the setups she’d use.

  “Uh oh. I don’t like the way you’re looking at me right now.” His head was propped up on his hand, his elbow supporting the weight. His hair was tousled from sleep and her fingers. He was breathtakingly handsome.

  “I’d love to shoot you.”

  He grinned. “That’s nothing new.”

  “Take photographs of you,” she clarified with a laugh.

  “I’d rather you hand the camera off to someone else and let them take pictures of us.”

  Her heart gave a funny lurch at the thought. “Of us?”

  “Why not? You’re gorgeous. I’d love to have a picture of the two of us together. I could sleep with it under my pillow. Pull it out like a dirty magazine when I’m—”

  She punched him in the gut as he laughed. “You filthy pervert,” she teased, picking up her pillow and hitting him in the head with it. He threw up his hands to protect himself as she continued to swing it at him.

  He capt
ured her hand, tossing the pillow off the bed before pushing her back on the bed, coming over her to cage her in. “I’d much rather have the real thing in my bed,” he said, kissing her. His cock nudged her thigh and she opened her legs, wrapped them around his waist as he entered her in one swift, marvelous plunge.

  “God,” she cried, when he rocked against her. “I can’t get enough of you. Of this.”

  His lips rasped her neck, his teeth lightly biting her shoulder. She quivered at the impact, her pussy throbbing at his delicious prodding.

  Her hands clung to his neck as she tightened her legs, using them to pull him into her—faster, harder.

  “Dammit, Nat. I can’t, I want—”

  “Give it to me. Please, Ewan. Fill me up. I’m tired of being empty.”

  He reached down and stroked her clit, rolling the pearl between his fingers until she screamed, the rush, the release too powerful to contain any longer.

  His dick surged into her one last time before he came. And as he kissed her, she wondered how a person could feel lost and found all at the same time.

  * * * * *

  Natalie sat on a bench, people watching and resting. She’d spent a full, busy afternoon with Teagan, Sean and Pat and she had to admit, the longer she spent with the Collins family, the more she liked them. They were genuine, good-hearted and fun. It had been a long time since she’d been with her family like this—the entire structure of her own home falling apart with Yvonne’s death and her stint in the mental hospital. She’d forgotten how special family was and she was gripped with regret for letting hers go without a fight.

  She glanced at her watch. Ewan had called forty-five minutes earlier to say he was leaving the pub. She knew from the cab ride here, the trip—even with traffic—shouldn’t have taken more than fifteen minutes.

  “I can’t understand what’s taking Ewan so long,” Teagan said for the fifth time. “We should have just gotten a cab back to the pub and left from there.”

  “That would have been too much backtracking. We just have to come back this way to get to Winter Park.” Sean was leaning against a light pole, his eyes watching the traffic behind her, looking out for Ewan’s car.

  “Yeah, well. If he’d answer his phone, we could tell him to forget the park. I’m beat.” Teagan was clearly as worn out as her, and Natalie had to agree the idea of going one more place today after all the walking they’d done this afternoon, traveling from shop to shop, was last on her list of fun ideas. She’d prefer to take a nice, long soak in the bathtub with a glass of wine and Ewan.

  The thought reminded her again of the Jacuzzi and she grinned at the memory of straddling his hips and drawing him into her—

  “I hope nothing happened to him.” Pat’s comment jarred her from her naughty thoughts and for the first time, she felt a touch of panic. What if something had happened to him?

  “He would have called,” Sean replied.

  If he could. The idea that Ewan wouldn’t be able to call them suddenly terrified her. She stood up and stared down the street, her heart racing at the thought he could be injured, hurt…worse.

  She opened her cell phone and dialed his number again. She’d tried several times in the last hour, as had Teagan, but the thing kept sending her to voicemail. As she heard his recorded voice asking her to leave a message, Teagan’s phone rang. She clicked hers shut and turned anxiously toward Ewan’s sister.

  “It’s Keira,” Teagan said with a sigh, opening her cell. “Hey, sis. What’s up?”

  Teagan was quiet for a moment. “Is he okay?”

  The question sent a surge of ice water pumping through Natalie’s veins and her knees gave way as she dropped back onto the bench.

  “Which hospital?” Teagan asked.

  “Ewan’s in the hospital?” Sean stepped closer but Teagan raised her hand for him to be quiet.

  “Okay. Yeah. We’ll just get cab. No problem.” Teagan clicked her phone closed and looked at her pop. “Ewan was in a car accident right outside the pub. Some teenager who just got his license. Ran a red light, plowed into the side of his Subaru.”

  “Driver’s side?” Sean asked, and Teagan nodded.

  Natalie struggled to hear the rest of her words but there was a sudden, painful roar of thunder pulsing through her ears, deafening her. She clenched her hands into fists to stop the uncontrollable shaking taking over her body.

  Teagan’s next words sounded like they were coming to her through a tunnel, their sound muffled, garbled. “He’s okay, but the rescue squad came and took him to the hospital. Apparently he’s got a nasty gash on his head that needed stitches and they’re concerned about a concussion. He’s also got some bad bruises on his left leg.”

  Natalie licked her dry lips, tried to focus, but the spots forming behind her eyes alerted her to the coming panic attack. She hadn’t had one in years. Never let herself get this upset, this distressed. She started rocking.

  “Nat,” Sean said quietly. “You okay? You’re white as a sheet.”

  She tried to get a breath but it felt like the air wasn’t getting to her lungs.

  “Jesus, Natalie.” Sean’s tone told her exactly how crazy she looked. “Put your head between your knees. You look like you’re gonna pass out.”

  She let him push her head down as she continued to struggle to breathe. For several long minutes, she tried to close down everything—the worried whispers of Ewan’s family, the sounds from the people walking by, the horns blaring in the midday traffic. She put it all away, as she’d learned to do in the past, and simply listened to her breathing.

  In and out. She focused on the rush of it as it came into her lungs then left her body again.

  She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but she was pulled out of her trance by Sean’s hand on her back. “Natalie? Do you think you can get in the cab? We want to get you home and in bed. You don’t look so good.”

  Natalie slowly sat up, exhaustion setting in. “I’m okay,” she whispered.

  “Pop’s flagged down a taxi. He’s waiting at the curb. Think you can walk? If not, I can carry you.”

  A weak smile crossed her lips at his gallant offer. He was so much like Ewan…

  The thought of Ewan sent a fresh round of panic through her body. “Ewan’s okay?”

  Sean smiled, though his face betrayed his worry. “I have a feeling he’s beat us home. He’ll be there when we get back.”

  She took his proffered hand and stood, leaning heavily on him as she walked to the cab.

  During the ride home, no one spoke, no one asked her any questions and she was glad for their consideration. She’d fallen apart in front of them. She knew she’d be mortified later, but right now all she could think about was Ewan.

  He’d been in a car accident. He could have been killed. She would have lost him.

  Lost him like she’d lost Yvonne.

  She didn’t know what to do with the pain suffusing her, where to put it. She’d held people at bay for years, managed her illness by keeping them out.

  “We’re here, Nat.” She glanced up, surprised to see everyone had stepped out of the taxi. She followed them into the pub, her eyes scanning the crowd for Ewan.

  Tris waved to them as they entered and she could see he was puzzled by the somberness of their small group of four. “Didn’t Keira tell you he’s okay? He’s upstairs, pissed as hell about the dent in his car.”

  Teagan nodded. “We know he’s okay. Natalie’s not feeling well. Must’ve been something we ate for lunch.”

  Natalie was grateful for Teagan’s lie and Sean’s arm as they continued through the bar to the stairs to the apartment above. As they reached the top, Natalie saw Keira and Will sitting on the couch in the living room, Catie on the floor, glued to Sesame Street on the television.

  Ewan was on his cell, pacing around the dining room table and arguing with someone about insurance.

  Natalie stopped at the top of the stairs and stared at him, studied his face, worried about the bru
ises, the bandage at his brow, the way he was limping slightly. As the rest of the family moved into the room, he saw her and his words stopped.

  “I’ll call you back later,” he said, hanging up abruptly.

  The room was eerily quiet given the number of people gathered there. “Hey, Nat.” His voice was the same…friendly, open, though she could hear the underlying thread of tiredness there. “Sorry about our plans.”

  She tried desperately to find her voice and failed. He was here. He was okay.

  He could have died.