The Seduction of Shamus O’Rourke

by N. J. Walters

  When he helped her out of the tub twenty minutes later, she was both relaxed and aroused.

  Shamus patted her dry, dragging the towel across his chest and legs, before lifting her into his arms again, and carrying her into the bedroom. It was if he didn’t want to let her go.

  Laying her on the bed, he reached into the nightstand and pulled out a condom. Quickly, he sheathed himself and came down on the bed beside her. The air in the room was warm thanks to the fact he’d turned up the heat earlier. Her skin was rosy from the hot bath and the desire pumping through her veins.

  There was no foreplay this time. Only raw need. Without preamble, he reached between her thighs and spread the slick lips of her sex wide. With his other hand, he guided his shaft to her opening. Their eyes met and held as he pressed into her. She was hot and ready and took him easily. When he was buried to the hilt, he lifted her legs, draping them over his shoulders and began to thrust, slowly at first, but quickly gaining speed.

  He went so deep and felt so large, she wasn’t sure she could take him. Yet she did. Easily.

  Their bodies, in tune with one another, undulated in a dance of passion. Shamus reached between them, stroking her distended clitoris. Cyndi cried out, rolling her hips to meet his thrust.

  “Come for me.” Shamus braced himself over her body, his face intense. Sweat dotted his forehead as he flexed his hips faster and faster.

  Cyndi dug her fingers into the bed covers, her body on fire now, all the cold driven away by the heat of Shamus’s passion. Her body thrummed, totally alive, poised on the brink of orgasm.

  “Shamus!” she cried, digging her heels into his shoulders, arching her back. Wanting. Needing to be closer.

  His hips slammed into hers. Harder. Faster.

  Sharp and intense, her orgasm rocketed through her. She cried out as he continued to pound into her body, claiming it, loving it. Her inner muscles clamped down tight on his cock and he yelled, his entire body jerking as he emptied himself in the condom.

  Cyndi sank into the pillows, totally spent and gasping for breath. Shamus carefully lowered her legs, pulling out before collapsing alongside her. They lay there for a long time, before she’d turned her head on the pillow. He was watching her intently.

  “I love you,” she whispered.

  He reached out, his fingers grazing her lips. “I love you, too.”

  They slept for a while, then cleaned up again, and redressed. Shamus decided to grill the steaks, and they’d just finished eating when Patrick dropped by. There was really no news. No fingerprints. No witnesses.

  Cyndi’s spirits sank. Unless this unknown person made a mistake, they might never catch him. Patrick didn’t stay long, and once they cleaned up from their meal, they headed upstairs again. Stripping off her clothing, she hauled on a nightshirt and crawled into bed. They tried to watch a movie on television, but neither of them was really interested. Finally, at eleven o’clock they called it a night.

  —

  Cyndi rolled over in bed yet again and punched her pillow. The red, glowing numbers from the clock on the nightstand told her it was just after two o’clock in the morning. She was exhausted and wanted to sleep, but her mind wouldn’t shut down.

  “You awake?” Shamus’s voice was low.

  “Yes.” She rolled over so that she was facing him. There was enough light from the moon coming in through the window for her to see him.

  “I know that this is hard on you.” He stroked her hair so tenderly that it brought tears to her eyes.

  “It hasn’t exactly been easy on you either.” His relationship with her had brought him nothing but a boatload of trouble.

  “But the benefits far outweigh the problems.” His thumb grazed her bottom lip.

  “You sure about that?” At times like this, she wished she was strong enough to send him away. But the kind of joy and happiness he brought to her had been rare in her life. She’d never experienced the kind of love and devotion Shamus offered her. She had so much love to give and had never really found anyone to share it with before now. A love such as this was worth fighting for.

  She’d been a coward for the first twenty-five years of her life and wasn’t going back there.

  She’d worked hard these past fourteen years to make something of herself, to finally become the person she wanted to be. That woman was a fighter.

  “I’m very sure.” He leaned forward, brushing his lips over hers. “Everything will work out.”

  Her body immediately began to tingle. No doubt about it, Shamus only had to look at her in a certain way and she was instantly aroused. It was both thrilling and disconcerting for a woman of her age to just be tapping into this well of abundant sexuality, but she liked it.

  And from the hard-on poking her in the belly, so did he.

  She reached her hand down to stroke him when the entire house suddenly shook. A huge boom seemed to echo in the air.

  Shamus rolled out of bed, dragging her with him. “Get dressed,” he yelled.

  Cyndi grabbed her jeans off the floor, not bothering with underwear. She ripped open a drawer and grabbed a sweater, pulling it on over her nightshirt. Stuffing her bare feet into her sneakers, she grabbed her purse. Her mind had finally made sense of the noises. Something had exploded.

  Shamus was already dressed and had his phone out as he grabbed her hand. She could smell smoke when he opened the door. “Cyndi Marks’s place. The old James house on James Lane,” he told the emergency operator as they hurried down the stairs. “No, I don’t know how bad it is. We heard an explosion. We’re on our way out now.”

  As they reached the bottom of the stairs, Cyndi could see the smoke billowing out from the kitchen area. She and Shamus raced for the front door. Cyndi turned all the locks and Shamus pulled the door open.

  Cool air rushed in as they stepped out onto the front porch, closing the door behind them.

  Cyndi stumbled on a loose sneaker lace, almost losing her balance. She fell back, but Shamus caught her.

  A loud crack ripped through the night. She felt Shamus falling and grabbed him. “Shamus.”

  “Get down,” he gritted out between clenched teeth.

  There was another loud crack and a piece of the railing shattered, sending wood splinters flying everywhere. Someone was shooting at them! Her eyes flew to Shamus. The front of his shirt was changing color, turning dark. He’d been shot!

  The bullet had been meant for her, but when she’d stumbled, it had hit him instead.

  Wrapping her arm around him, she half pulled, half dragged him down the steps as another shot rang out. Her arm jerked and began to sting, but she ignored it as she yanked him down behind his truck.

  “Where’s your phone?” She patted his pockets, but it wasn’t there.

  “Here.” He handed it to her. Through everything, he’d managed to hang on to it.

  Cyndi grabbed it from him. To her surprise, the connection hadn’t been broken and the emergency operator was still on the other end of the line. “Call the sheriff’s department and send an ambulance. There’s someone shooting at us.”

  “Are you hurt?”

  “Shamus is. I’m not sure how bad. I have to see.”

  “Don’t hang up the phone,” the operator instructed.

  “Okay.” Cyndi could hear faint sirens in the distance and she saw smoke streaming from the back of the house. None of it mattered. Her entire focus was on the man on the ground beside her.

  The fact that he was just lying there worried her. His breathing was shallow, his face pale.

  Carefully, she raised his shirt. It was sticky with blood. Her stomach roiled and she swallowed hard. She breathed a sigh of relief when his chest seemed unhurt. He grunted in pain as she lifted the cloth, exposing his left shoulder.

  Blood seeped heavily from a wound. Cyndi tossed her purse aside, whipped off her sweater, and yanked her nightshirt over her head. Pulling the sweater back on, she then folded the fabric of her nightshirt into a pad and laid it ov
er the wound, pressing down hard.

  “We can’t stay here. We’re too exposed.” Shamus swore as he levered himself up onto his right elbow.

  She knew he was right. “Where?”

  Another shot kicked up the dirt just inches from her feet. Rolling to his knees, Shamus struggled to his feet. Cyndi stuffed the phone in her purse and hooked it over her head and shoulder. Wrapping her arm around him, she tried to support his weight and keep pressure on his wound at the same time. They moved as quickly as they could, rounding the back of the truck.

  Cyndi was sweating heavily now, a combination of fear and exertion. Shamus looked ready to drop in a heap and although the sirens were getting closer, there was no help to be had at the moment. They were on their own.

  Shamus stumbled, almost falling twice, but Cyndi managed to keep them upright, finding strength she didn’t know she had. They managed to run behind her car, which was further away from the shooter. At least she hoped it was. She really couldn’t tell where he was, but all the shots seemed to be coming from one general location.

  She could see the flashing lights coming up the road. “Help is almost here. Hang on.” She eased him down on to the damp ground, propping him up against a back tire. Sweat dripped down his brow and she wiped it away. “Everything is going to be okay.” She didn’t know who she was trying to reassure. Him or her.

  A large pump truck pulled into the yard, followed by a vehicle from the sheriff’s department.

  They cut the sirens. Cyndi jumped to her feet. “Watch out, there’s a shooter in the woods!” As if to confirm her warning, a shot took out a headlight on the fire truck. The firemen retreated to the far side of the truck, hunkering down.

  Patrick jumped out of the cruiser, drew his weapon, took aim, and returned fire. More vehicles screeched into her yard. “Get some light over toward those woods,” Patrick yelled.

  Several vehicles backed up and spun around, flooding the trees with light.

  Cyndi thought she saw movement to the far right. Apparently, Patrick did too because he fired several shots. Someone yelled, then the yard went quiet.

  For about five seconds.

  Pandemonium broke out as the firemen started pulling out hoses and headed toward the house. Cyndi breathed a sigh of relief as an ambulance pulled into the driveway and two men jumped out of the front seat. “Over here!” she yelled, waving frantically them. They grabbed their gear and headed toward where she and Shamus had taken shelter.

  Patrick made it before the paramedics. He took one look at his brother, but said nothing. The flashing lights against his grim features made him look slightly demonic as he crouched down beside his brother.

  “It’s his shoulder.” Of course, Patrick probably already knew that, given the fact she was pressing down hard against his left shoulder. “It should have been me. I stumbled on my sneaker lace and Shamus caught me.” She was rambling now, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. There was so much blood on Shamus’s shirt.

  “Let’s see what we’ve got here.” One of the paramedics took her wrist to move it aside.

  “No! He’s bleeding. I have to keep pressure on it.”

  The paramedic eased her hand away. “That’s okay. We’ll take care of it now.”

  “You’ve got to let them work, Cyndi.” Patrick took her by the shoulders and eased her back.

  She sat down hard on the ground two feet away and watched as they cut Shamus’s shirt off him and put some kind of bandage on his wound. They started an IV before carefully lifting him onto the waiting stretcher.

  She was vaguely aware of one of the deputies coming to tell Patrick that, although they found blood in the woods, there was no shooter to be found. There were men still following the trail. They hadn’t given up hope and one of the deputies had gone home to get his bloodhound, who was an excellent tracker.

  She didn’t pay much attention to what Patrick said to the man. All she cared about was Shamus. His eyes were closed and he appeared very pale. When they’d settled him on the stretcher, his eyelids fluttered and he turned his head as if searching for her. She scooted closer and took his hand in hers. “I’m here.”

  “Come with me.”

  “Of course I’m going to the hospital with you.”

  “We need you to tell us what happened here,” Patrick interrupted.

  Cyndi pulled her sweater tighter around her. Realizing it wasn’t buttoned, she quickly took care of that chore. When they lifted the stretcher, she was right beside it.

  Patrick grabbed her arm, pulling her to a halt. “Cyndi. I need you to talk to me.”

  Angry, she shook off his hold. “There was a large explosion. We got up and when we went downstairs, there was smoke coming from the back of the house. When we went outside, someone started shooting at us.” The paramedics loaded Shamus into the back of the ambulance.

  Cyndi hurried forward with Patrick hot on her heels. “Any more than that will have to wait until later.” She clambered on board, sitting across from Shamus. In the light, she could see him more clearly. His face was smudged with dirt, smoke, and blood. He looked too pale for her peace of mind.

  Patrick’s grim expression was the last thing she saw as the doors closed and the ambulance pulled away.

  “Hey.” Shamus’s voice was little more than a harsh whisper.

  “Hey yourself.” She reached out and smoothed a lock of hair off his forehead. The strap from her purse pressed against her neck, reminding her of its presence. She shifted it and heard a noise inside. It was only then she remembered the phone. Digging into her purse, she realized the call was still connected. She lifted the receiver to her ear. “Hello.”

  The emergency operator answered back. Cyndi apologized for forgetting about the woman and told her that they were on their way to the hospital and that the firemen and the deputies were on the scene at her house. After thanking the woman, she hung up the phone. As she tucked Shamus’s phone back inside her purse, she saw her own in its usual pocket. She hadn’t even thought to use her own phone but she was glad she had it, as the battery was almost dead on Shamus’s.

  “Should I call your sister?” Cyndi really didn’t want to have to be the one to place the call, but someone needed to tell them.

  “Please.” Shamus rattled off the number before he closed his eyes again.

  Cyndi’s hands shook as she used her phone to make the call. It was answered on the second ring by an annoyed male voice. “It’s after two in the morning. This better be good.”

  “Burke?”

  She heard rustling in the background. “This is Burke Black. Who is this?”

  Cyndi swallowed hard. “Cyndi Marks.”

  “What do you want?”

  “Shamus has been shot, but he’s okay.” She hurried on to reassure him. “We’re on route to the hospital now.”

  “What the hell happened?”

  “It’s a long story. Patrick is still back at my house, and I wasn’t sure he’d have time to call you yet.”

  “We’re on our way.” The call was ended abruptly. Cyndi tucked her phone back in her purse just as the ambulance slowed and finally stopped. The back doors were yanked open and several hospital staff helped the paramedics lower the stretcher and quickly wheel it inside.

  Cyndi hurried after them, only to be stopped at the large double doors that said “Staff Only”.

  She stood, her hand on the door, peering through the small window as they wheeled the man she loved away from her. He hadn’t opened his eyes and she wondered if he was unconscious due to lack of blood.

  She jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder. It was one of the paramedics. He appeared concerned. “He’ll be okay, won’t he?” She was desperate for reassurance. She’d just found Shamus; she couldn’t lose him now.

  “He should be fine.” The man stared at her. “Why don’t you sit down?” He urged her away from the door. She didn’t want to leave, but knew there was no point in standing there. “Is there anyone I can call for you
?”

  She shook her head. “No. But thank you.”

  She was shaking almost violently now, her entire body trembling. Her teeth began to chatter.

  The paramedic called out to one of the nurses. “She’s going into shock.”

  The paramedic lifted her and carried her through the double doors. “Shamus?” Maybe they were taking her to him.

  “Don’t you worry about him,” a brisk female voice told her. “Let’s have a look at you.” The woman unhooked Cyndi’s purse from over her neck and shoulder and then proceeded to unbutton her sweater.

  Cyndi objected, trying to bat away the woman’s hands. She was already freezing. But the nurse wouldn’t be deterred and was soon drawing Cyndi’s sweater down her arms. Cyndi flinched, pain shooting down her arm.

  “Looks like you got grazed.” She wrapped a warm blanket over Cyndi’s body, tucking it around her, but leaving her left arm exposed. “We’ll get a doctor to look at that for you.”

  By the time the doctor cleaned and bandaged the wound, Cyndi was starting to feel better. It hadn’t even needed any stitches, but the doctor had cleaned it thoroughly, making sure there was no fabric from her shirt embedded in the skin. No one would tell her anything about Shamus except that he was in surgery. Just the word almost made Cyndi sick to her stomach.

  There was no need for her to stay in hospital overnight. All she needed to do was to rest at home for the next few days and she’d be fine. The nurse gave her a top from a set of scrubs and helped her put it on over her bandaged arm. It didn’t hurt too badly now thanks to the pain medication they’d given her. She had a prescription for some antibiotics and some painkillers that she’d have to fill tomorrow.

  Carefully, she pulled her sweater back on, needing the extra warmth. She eased off the examination table, steadying herself before collecting her purse.

  She felt slow but stable as the nurse walked with her down the hallway, toward the waiting room. The name on her tag said her last name was Johnson. Cyndi asked her if she was related to Pete, one of the men working on her house. Indeed, Pete was her uncle. Barbara Johnson was Arthur and Silas’s sister. Barbara promised to let her know if she heard any news. They were all concerned. Seemed everyone in town thought the world of Shamus.