“It will be. Absolutely perfect. You can ask Fin if you like—everything is in place and it’s exactly what you wanted.”
Silence.
“What do you mean, I can ask Fin?”
Jillian’s gut froze. “Er—I just mean, he’s been very attentive to all the wedding details. I know he wants the day to be perfect,” that word again, “for you and his brother.”
“I see. I didn’t realize Fintan was there.” Jillian’s skin was creeping with nervous energy. Marianna still didn’t sound happy.
“I think Michael asked him to come and make sure everything was under control. Since you and he couldn’t be here personally.” She selected her words carefully.
“Michael is thoughtful like that.” The frigid tones had left Marianna’s voice, and Jillian’s shoulders sagged with relief. “Although,” she continued, “I was a little surprised to hear you refer to Fintan so familiarly. You should be careful, Jillian. It would be very easy for people to get the wrong idea.” The warning was very clear.
“Yes, of course.” Jillian’s mouth was dry. “I—he asked me to call him Fin. I don’t think he likes formality.” She reined herself in. Babbling was not going to help her. Thankfully, Marianna seemed to have lost interest, and after a perfunctory goodbye, hung up.
Jillian sank down onto the sofa. Any hope she may have harbored, way in the back of her mind, of possibly hooking up with Fin had to die.
*
“Strip.”
Suddenly, magically, they were both naked, clothes strewn aside, and they lay back, Fin’s mouth at her throat.
Her pussy tightened as he nibbled and licked his way down her torso. Her skin prickled where he lavished attention. He stopped to play with her breasts, and she sobbed with frustration. He clamped his teeth down on her nipple and she cried out, her hips lifting off the table.
Fin slid his hand down her body and between her legs and stroked through the wet heat, circling her clit as he tugged at her nipple with his teeth. Her pussy clenched, cream sliding over his fingers, and a moan was torn from deep inside her.
Fin laved her nipple, soothing the tender skin, and planted soft kisses down her stomach. He lifted his head and briefly met her gaze, and then glided his hand over her thigh, under her knee, and lifted, turned. She moved with him, bending her knee, opening herself to him.
He looked down, smiled, looked back at her and licked his lips.
First his breath wafted over her sensitized nerve endings. Her entire body throbbed with anticipation as he hovered. His mouth descended that last little bit, and her eyes rolled back. His tongue, hot, wet, laved over her clit. The throbbing increased.
He traced his fingers up the inside of her thigh, slid through thick cream, tickled at her entrance. He abandoned her sweet spot, instead licking down, up, lingering as if she were top-quality ice cream and he had a sweet tooth. Her cunt clenched.
Shakily sucking air into her lungs, she expelled it on a low moan. She lifted her hands, stroked them over her breasts, tormented her nipples, as his tongue and lips and fingers tortured her pussy.
She bucked her hips as Fin slid his long, clever fingers inside, and her pussy clamped down on him as she clamped her fingers onto her nipples, pulling in a desperate bid for release.
She heard a keening sound, was distantly aware that it came from her, and then Fin grazed his teeth over her clit and she skyrocketed out of control. Her cunt contracted wildly as cream spilled over his hand.
Jillian jerked awake, soaked in sweat. Damn it, not again. Since she’d started trying to avoid Fin, she’d been having these dreams. Hot, erotic dreams, where his clever hands and mouth did things that made her scream.
Throwing back the covers, she glanced at the clock as she climbed out of bed. Three in the morning. Too early to get up for the day but not too early for a cool shower before she tried to get back to sleep.
*
Just one more day. In a little over twenty-four hours, Marianna would arrive, and Jillian would legitimately be so busy with the bride that avoiding Fin would be easy. Not like the last few days. She was getting tired of peering down corridors and scanning rooms before she entered. Not to mention, as sensible as her decision to avoid him was, she kind of missed him. Even when her stomach was tied in knots, he was wonderful company.
She sighed and wandered to her desk. In a little while she was meeting with Ryan Fitzpatrick Gallagher—she couldn’t think of him without using all three names—to finalize the menu details. Marianna had made another middle-of-the-night call demanding changes, and while Jillian was more than ready to commit homicide, the fabulous Tullamore staff had taken everything in stride. She was definitely going to offer a Tullamore destination wedding package as part of her services when she got home.
Sitting at the desk, she picked up the phone and dialed her office. Kate should be just getting in now. She didn’t really need to check in; her assistant had proved to be extremely capable of managing the business without her.
“Jillian Baxter Events, this is Kate.”
“Hi, Kate. How are you?”
“Jillian! I’m fine, just getting sorted for today. I’m so glad you called though.”
A frisson of worry shot through Jillian. “Is something wrong?”
“No, not at all. Well, not really.” Kate hesitated. “It’s just—well, remember how Damien’s aunt died?”
Jillian blinked. Damien was Kate’s boyfriend, and his aunt had died about three months prior. Jillian had given Kate some time off to be with Damien’s family at the time. “Ye-es, I remember.”
“Well, her will has been probated, and Damien inherited some money.”
“Lovely! Oh, I don’t mean that how it sounded.” Jillian winced. The death of a family member was never lovely.
“I know, don’t worry. Anyway, we’re going to take a short vacation somewhere, but we were also thinking…you know how we’ve always wanted to work together?”
Jillian went cold. Damien was a project manager, and Kate had once confided that the two of them had considered going into business together, Kate planning smaller, personal events while Damien specialized in corporate planning. But if they were to do that, Jillian would lose the best assistant she’d ever had.
“I know.” She squeezed the words through her suddenly tight throat.
“Well, we thought about starting a company, but it’s really not a good economy for that right now, plus I really love working with you, so we thought, maybe, we could buy in to your company.”
Silence. Jillian tried to get her head around what Kate was saying. “What do you mean?”
“We’d like to buy in as partners,” Kate’s words tumbled out in a rush. “Damien has a business plan for expanding into corporate planning, and the injection of capital would allow for that without affecting the existing business. You don’t have to decide now,” she added. “Just think about it, and when you get back we can talk.”
“Okay.” Jillian took in a deep breath. “Okay, we’ll talk when I get back.” Her mind racing with the possibilities, she asked a few desultory questions about the schedule for the day and said goodbye.
She’d never thought about expanding into corporate planning, mainly because her preference was for personal events. But with Damien looking after that aspect of the business, it was a very real possibility.
She glanced at the clock and dragged herself away from her thoughts. Time to head downstairs.
Chapter Five
“Damn it,” Jillian muttered. Fin was standing right there in the lift lobby, waiting for an elevator. She ducked back around the corner before he could spot her, and then set off for the Victorian wing and the old elevator. She’d been avoiding it because Fin had such a preference for it, but if he was going to use the modern ones, then she really had no choice.
She pressed the call button and waited for the door to rattle open. As beautiful as the lift was, it made her think of Fin, remember what the two of them had done there.
>
What they could have done there.
Her body warmed, and her pussy dampened. Fin’s chest, so strong, his pecs defined, muscles tensing as he touched her…
His dick, thick, reaching toward her with a glistening pearl of moisture at the head…
Someone cleared their throat behind her, and a shudder ran down her spine. Surely she couldn’t be this unlucky?
Turning, she smiled weakly. “Hi, Fin.”
“Jillian.” He raised an eyebrow. “I haven’t seen you for a while. Were you waiting?” He gestured at the lift, door open, and she flushed. Of course he’d catch her daydreaming about him.
“Er.” She stepped into the elevator. “I was—distracted.” He followed her in and pushed the button for his floor, then hers. The door closed.
Her fingers started to itch. His hair looked so soft. She wanted to run her hands through it, tug a little, use her grip to guide his head down…
Fuck it…
She reached out and grabbed him by the back of the neck, jerked his head down, and pressed her open mouth to his.
“What…” He yanked back, looked at her, and she licked her lips and pressed up against him. That was all it took.
He backed her up against the wall and kissed her, long, hot, and with lots of tongue. His body pressed her against the wall, and she undulated against his dick. He stroked down her body, sliding his hands into her shirt, his fingers feather-light against her skin, and within seconds she shivered, her nipples tightening almost painfully, then Fin’s hands were on her hips, firm and steady, drawing the fabric of her skirt up, up, until it was around her waist and his hands touched skin, stroking, catching hold of her panties and drawing them down.
“Fin,” she gasped against his lips, pulling at his T-shirt, desperate to get her hands on him. He let her go, yanked the shirt off, and grabbed her again.
“Wait, your pants…”
He swore and she laughed, invincible in the face of his desire, and between them they made quick work of his jeans and boxers, and she was back in his arms, kissing her way along his neck to his delicious lips. She moaned and rubbed against him again, loving the drag of his hard cock on her abdomen, the dampness that signified pre-cum. Her pussy, already damp, twitched. She tore her mouth away from his.
“Fin, do it, put it in. I don’t want to wait.” He didn’t argue, just lifted her. She opened her legs and wrapped herself, arms and legs, around him as he positioned himself and pushed into her. She wasn’t as ready as she could have been, but she was wet enough to enjoy the friction as he slid in. “Ungh…” She bit his neck as he began to thrust, a steady rhythm…too steady. “Fin!” She deliberately contracted her pussy muscles around him, and he gasped, his breathing becoming uneven. She did it again, and this time he moaned, losing his rhythm.
“Harder,” she whispered, digging her hands and feet into his back, and he started pumping again. This time his strokes were shorter, harder, less about rhythm and more about instinct. Jillian’s breathing hitched, and her whole body began to tingle as he continued to drive into her, his skin damp with sweat. Pressure built deep in her pelvis.
“Fin, I’m going to come, just a bit more, more… Ohhh…”
Every muscle tensed, clenching hard, and the pleasure-pain was almost too much, then it was over and she was limp. Only Fin’s grip on her and the wall at her back kept her from being a puddle on the floor as Fin continued to pound into her. Amazingly, terrifyingly, the tingling returned, and as Fin groaned and pumped into her one last time, her cunt spasmed again.
*
Jillian banged her head against the desk. What the hell is wrong with me? She’d spent the night tossing and turning after fleeing, half-naked, from the elevator, leaving Fin with his jeans around his knees and unable to follow. Minutes later, he’d knocked at her door, but she’d ignored him, even when he’d gotten louder and started swearing. Eventually she’d heard another voice, and then he’d left.
In the meantime, Marianna and Michael were arriving in less than an hour, and she had to face Fin first.
Sighing, she rubbed her sore forehead and stood. She had no idea what she was going to say to him. This mess was all her fault—she’d known she couldn’t get involved with Fin, and yet she kept digging herself in deeper.
Pacing to the fireplace and back, she practiced what she could say. “Fin, you’re a wonderful lover…no. Fin, I had a lot of fun, but…no. Oh fuck it.” She grabbed her compendium and headed for the door. Better just to get it over with.
She ran into her first problem when she reached the hall. Where the hell was Fin’s room? Should she go to his room, or was that just tempting fate? Maybe the best solution was to call his room and ask him to meet her downstairs. Or she could just call his room and sort everything out over the phone… Don’t be a wuss, Jillian. Determined, she headed for the modern lifts. She’d go down to the lobby, call Fin’s room, and ask him to meet her in the bar.
Moments later, she stepped into the lobby and came to a dead stop. No need to call Fin’s room after all. He was standing over by the concierge desk, talking to Seamus. Suddenly, she felt a strong desire to turn tail and run.
He looked up and saw her, and his blue eyes made her stomach weak. Sucking in a deep breath, she forced herself to cross the lobby.
“Hi, gentlemen.”
“Good morning, Jillian,” Seamus greeted her courteously. Fin said nothing.
“Fin, can I have a word?”
“That depends on what word you have in mind.”
Jillian blinked. “Um…”
“For example, if the word you’re thinking is ‘mistake’, then I don’t want to hear it.” He held her gaze for a long moment while heat crept up her neck. “That’s what I thought.” He walked away.
Even though she’d gotten the outcome she wanted—more or less—Jillian felt tears well. Sniffling, she blinked them back and turned to Seamus.
“I’m sorry—”
“Don’t be,” he interrupted. “Not your fault.”
She heaved a sigh. “Yes, it was. All my fault. Well, me and that damn lift.”
“Ah.”
She looked at him. “What?”
“Nothing. What do you mean; what has the lift done?”
Jillian shook her head. “Not a thing except be there when I act like an idiot. That elevator has been a witness every time I’ve done something I shouldn’t.”
“Hm. Well. The thing about that lift is, it’s been a witness to a lot of interesting things. And every one I’ve ever heard of has turned out to be for the best.” He looked at her intently, as if trying to communicate something.
“I’m not following you, Seamus.”
He smiled. “There’s not much to follow. Do you remember I told you there was magic here?”
She frowned. “Are you saying it’s a magic elevator?” Am I actually having this conversation?
Seamus chuckled. “I think the word ‘magic’ is relative. Did the elevator ever transport you to a distant planet?”
Jillian laughed, and then noticed that Seamus was watching her expectantly. “No! No, I never ended up on another planet.”
He grinned. “So, not magic in the obvious way then. Think about everything you’ve done in the elevator. Was any of it bad? Something terrible, something that you’ll regret until your dying day? If not, maybe you were supposed to do those things, and being in the elevator just…facilitated that.”
Silence. Jillian looked at him.
“That’s the weirdest thing I’ve ever heard.”
Chapter Six
Jillian watched as Marianna and Michael danced their first dance as a married couple, and for the first time in her career, wondered if facilitating this wedding had been the wrong thing to do.
Not my business. Since Marianna’s arrival, Jillian hadn’t had a moment to call her own—Bridezilla had even woken her twice during the night. But the wedding had been an amazing success. Three guests had already come to speak with her about
planning events for them.
The emcee invited guests to join the bridal couple and across the room, Fin drew his mother out onto the dance floor. Jillian sighed. He looked incredibly handsome in his dark suit, and again she wished things could have been different.
“…maybe you were supposed to do those things…every one I’ve ever heard of has turned out to be for the best…”
Was she being an idiot? Fin was nice. He was funny. Intelligent, considerate, patient, a great lover… What was holding her back? The opinion of a woman she didn’t like, and more importantly, didn’t respect?
Almost before she’d made the decision, she was walking across the room. She reached Fin just as the dance was coming to a close.
“Excuse me, Mrs. Dunne, can I just borrow Fin for a moment?”
Mrs. Dunne smiled, while Fin’s face remained expressionless. “Of course, Jillian. I’m going to go powder my nose.”
Jillian took Fin’s arm and led him away from the dance floor, carefully not looking at Marianna. He followed her, unresisting, but as soon as they left the ballroom, he stopped and pulled his arm away.
“What do you want, Jillian?” Her heart shriveled at his tone. Be brave.
“I was wrong.” She blurted the words, not sure until they came out what she was going to say. She took a deep breath. At least he wasn’t walking away. “I didn’t trust myself, so even though I wanted you and want to be with you, I kept backing away. But I was wrong. And I hope it’s not too late.” Screwing up her courage, she went on tiptoe and kissed him.
It took less than three seconds for him to kiss her back.
*
The door slammed open and Fin pulled Jillian into his room. He barely took the time to push the door closed before yanking her back into his arms.
Her mouth met his eagerly. Mine mine mine mine. His mouth tore away from hers and he pressed kisses down her neck, stopped to lick and nip at her collarbone.
“Hurry,” she gasped, pulling his shirt out of his pants and sliding her hands underneath. His skin was hot, smooth, and she loved the sensation.
Irish Allure Page 3
