As the late-spring afternoon faded into early evening, Frankie and Toni took on other patrons that wandered in to Murphy's. Two twenty-something boys that looked familiar but O'Donovan couldn't remember their names were especially interested in playing. He felt his body tense when the taller boy bent to whisper in her ear. Watching her lips curl in a flirtatious smile made him want to shoot off of his stool and punch the little motherfucker in the face.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Toni seemed to remember O'Donovan was there and skipped over to him. She nudged her shoulder against his and leaned in like they were sharing a private joke. “Old white men love me,” she whispered in his ear. “So you better watch out.” Then she took his whiskey and downed it, like it was water. He could only stare at her. He couldn't think of one witty thing to say. The booze was making his brain sluggish.
Yeah, sure it was.
Just like it was responsible for his cock springing to life when she slid off her cardigan and hung it on the hook below the bar. All of the satiny skin she revealed, combined with a flash of lacy black bra strap, had him itching to throw her up on the bar and have a go at her right then and there. Antoinette St. James was most definitely an evil genius, he decided. She tossed him a wink and headed back to her game. He watched her go, his eyes glued to her ass, like a fucking idiot.
Murphy slid him another Jameson, and he downed it. That's when shit started to get hazy. He didn't remember much after that, but later he would remember the softness of her sweater as he ran his rough fingers over it. He would remember her laugh from across the bar, echoing in his ears. And he would remember the smell of her perfume on his shirt, the tangy scent slowly driving him insane.
Chapter 7
“I'll be back to see you, you can count on that. And when I come back, I'm gonna be a champ!” Toni said, waving goodbye to Frank, the sweet old Irishman who'd been her companion for the last couple of hours. He tossed a wave and a smile over his shoulder as he exited the front door of the bar. Thank God for Frank. He'd taken her mind off of O'Donovan, and she'd had the best time learning to play darts. Darts was one of those things people did in bars, and Toni didn't spend a lot of time in bars. But she had to admit, it was fun. She was competitive, and she loved having Frank on her team. They had wiped the floor with whomever was foolish enough to take them on. They should have been taking money bets. They would've killed.
An arm slid around her shoulders and she jumped. It was Ryan, one of the guys they'd played against. He was a little handsy, but not completely unattractive. Just not her type, especially when O'Donovan was mere feet away.
“Hey girl, we're about to go up the street to play pool,” he said, his mouth to her ear. He smelled like beer and cigarettes, not exactly a pleasing combination. “Come with us. It'll be fun.” His friend, flipping a joint between his fingers, nodded and smiled. The only thing tempting about those two was the joint. Toni ducked out of his embrace, and shook her head.
“Sorry, boys. My man and I are going to hang here.” Toni pointed to O'Donovan at the bar. For the first time that night, he was actually looking at her. His eyes were unreadable, but he was working his jaw angrily, like he'd be ready to beat the shit out of Ryan at the slightest provocation. Toni couldn't help the big smile that blossomed on her face. Aw, he was protective. How cute.
Ryan got the hint pretty quick and took a step back. “Alright, girl, it's all good. If you change your mind...”
“I won't, but thanks,” she smiled and then turned her back on them. She only had eyes for O'Donovan. Girl, you are such a sap, she admonished herself but it didn't help. She wanted to run her hands through his unruly hair and kiss his whiskey-flavored lips. She sidled up to him, pressing her side against his until Ryan and his friend had exited the premises. He dropped his arm over her shoulders and pulled her close and she damn near swooned. The bare skin of his arm felt so warm against her shoulders and he smelled so good. Like soap and spicy aftershave. All man.
“You little tease,” he growled in her ear. “He actually thought he had a chance.”
“I can't help but be friendly. It's not my fault men think it's flirting.”
“You're so full of shit.” He brought his face closer, his words slurring. His nose grazed her cheek, and she felt her pussy clench. “So bringing me a pie, was that you being friendly? Or you flirting?”
“What do you think?” she asked, turning her face quickly, so that their lips almost brushed together. He looked at her from beneath heavy-lidded eyes, then he pulled away. She missed the warm weight of his arm on her shoulders immediately. With a sigh, she forced herself to remember that he didn't want her. He wasn't interested. No matter how much her body wanted him, she wasn't going to be desperate. Desperation was the opposite of sexy.
She took a step away from him to give them both some distance. She pulled the pie tin over to her and laughed when she realized it was empty. He had eaten the whole damn thing. Well, either he really liked it or he was really hungry. Her ego said he really liked it. She gave him the side-eye and she noticed he was looking a little worse for wear.
“How are you feeling over there?” she said.
“Pretty good,” he said, patting his pockets like he was looking for something. He pushed off the stool and stood, swaying. He shoved his hand in his pocket and pulled out his wallet. She slid her arms around his waist and grabbed him before he fell over. He chuckled, his chin against her hair.
“How much I owe you, Murph?” he said.
“Fuck off, O'Donovan,” the bartender said, throwing him a disgusted look.
“I owe you,” O'Donovan said, pointing at him.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Murphy waved them off, shaking his head as he turned away. “Get lost.” Toni pulled O'Donovan's heavy arm over her shoulders.
"Lean on me," she said, in the kind of no-nonsense tone her sister had perfected and he obliged her. "Where's your keys?" she asked. He patted his back pocket. She could hear the metallic clink of his keys there and she sighed with relief. She hoped he could get himself home. A backup plan would be to drop him at the firehouse, but she hoped it didn't have to come to that. She grabbed her sweater and her purse, tangling her hand in his shirt to steady him. She tried to ignore the flash of toned abs that she caught as his shirt lifted. “Come on, you lush,” she said, rolling her eyes at the warmth that flooded through her.
Within moments, they were out the door into the warm night. He pulled her toward him, into a kind of embrace, and she fell into rhythm beside him. Occasionally he would stumble, and she would hold onto his shirt until he regained his balance. They walked like that for two blocks.
"I hope you remember where you live," she said dryly.
"Lovely night for a stroll," He said, his accent thicker than normal.
"If by 'stroll' you mean stumbling around in the dark, sure."
"Toni, you gotta learn to enjoy the little things. A cold drink, a long night, the thick scent of May flowers in the air."
"I never pegged you as the poetic type," Toni said.
"You don't know me, lovely. I can be downright fucking romantic." He winked at her, and she felt that now-familiar electric spark in between her legs that he induced in her.
"We'll see," she said, not doubting him for a minute. She bet he was the penguin mate-for-life type. “So why are you drinking so much on this lovely, romantic night?”
“Hmm?” he mumbled, tightening his arm around her.
“You don't seem to be very happy, O'Donovan. Happy people don't act like assholes and drink themselves into oblivion,” she said.
“I can't argue with that logic,” he said.
“Was I right?” she said, carefully. He was being so open with her, she didn't want to ruin it. But she was dying of curiosity. “Did your wife leave you?” He surprised her by laughing, and she glanced up at him.
“She did,” he said. “You win.”
“What do I win?” she asked. He stopped in his tracks and pointed to
a six story apartment building.
"That's it. My place." He dug his keys out of his pocket and he began walking toward the building, dragging her along with him. She felt her stomach drop. She was actually going to O'Donovan's apartment. Her mouth went dry. The man was drunk, she reminded herself. Very drunk. He probably had whiskey dick. Nothing was going to happen.
He pulled her into the elevator and jabbed the button for the fifth floor. As the elevator door rumbled closed, he was on her, pressing her against the wall.
“Antoinette, what do you want from me?” he said, his mouth close to hers. Her heart was instantly pounding in her chest and in her ears.
“I...” she trailed off, her mouth dry.
“I think you want to torture me,” he said.
“I just... I just...” Toni was speechless, which didn't happen very often. I want to fuck you! her mind was screaming, but her mouth wouldn't form around the words. He was so big and warm. She wanted to crawl into him, slide herself under his skin and be as close to him as possible. She wanted to so badly it hurt.
“Fuck,” he said, the word hoarse. Then the elevator slowed to a stop and he pushed away from the wall. And her. “Go home, Toni.” But she didn't. She followed him down the hallway to his apartment and stood beside him like a dummy as he unlocked the door. He moved aside and let her pass, into the dark entryway. The apartment was pitch black. No light, not even from the street. Toni slid her hand along the wall, looking for a light switch as O'Donovan slammed the door behind them. In an instant, he was pressed against her, his chest against hers, his hands on her ass in the dark. He let out a slow breath against her cheek, and she jerked against him, her whole body responding to him.
“I told you to go home,” he said. Her hand found his chest in the dark, her quest for light abandoned. She couldn't see him, only feel him, and the fact only amplified her arousal. She didn't know what he was going to do next. She craved this closeness. This intimacy. When she felt his mouth on her neck, she gasped and tilted her chin to give him better access. When his teeth nipped at her collarbone, she felt a moan escape from her lips. The lust sliced through her like a knife, and all she wanted was release. He pulled away roughly and she heard a swift rustle of clothes. She groped in the dark for him, wanting him back. Her fingertips found bare skin. She pulled her hand back with a gasp as if burned. His shirt had disappeared and couldn't stop herself from reaching again, drawn to him.
She ran her hands over the planes of his chest and it was better than she'd imagined—rough skin pulled taut over hard muscle. He was back on her in a flash, all moist lips and a hot tongue. She snaked her arms around his neck as his hands groped under her top. He found her bra immediately, yanking it down and freeing the swell of her left breast while sucking on her bottom lip. He ran his calloused thumb over her nipple and she damn near came out of her skin. She knew he was drunk. She knew that he wouldn't be touching her this way otherwise. But she wanted him. God, she wanted him.
“Antoinette,” he murmured her name. “I remember you.” He dipped his tongue into her mouth and she felt a thrill go down her spine. She arched her back into the kiss, bumping her hips against his. He was hard, his big erection straining in his jeans. So much for whiskey dick. “It was dark and I held you in my arms,” he said, kissing her deep.
“I'll never forget,” she whispered, feeling breathless. Her fingernails dug into the skin of his shoulders as he sucked and nipped at her mouth. “You saved me.” She found his mouth in the dark and kissed him, deep. When she came up for air, she felt the words flowing again. “I could see the stars,” she whispered. “Did you see them?”
“I saw them, lovely. I saw them.” He squeezed her breast and bumped his hips against hers.
“Why did you leave me in the hospital?” She wished she could stop the words from pushing to the surface, but she couldn't. “I needed you.” She felt his body tighten around hers, and he dropped his hands. She let out frustrated whimper as he pulled the warm heat of his mouth away. “O'Donovan!” His name passed her lips as a low moan, and then light flooded the room as he flicked the switch. She blinked in the bright light, disoriented. By the time her head was clear, he was already across the room, kicking off his boots as he went.
“Toni, get lost,” he said, disappearing down the dark hallway. She pressed her hand to her chest, feeling her heart beating a mile a minute beneath her skin. She knew she should go. She should turn and run from the infuriating man, catch the train back home, and never think of him again. But, dammit, she was hot for him. How dare he get her all worked up with no release? She wanted him to fuck her. Hard. Relentlessly. He could pour all of that anger into her, and she wouldn't mind. Not one bit.
However, he was drunk. She wouldn't take advantage of the situation. No. That would be wrong. She could ignore the ache in between her legs. She could ignore how her body responded to his. She adjusted her bra and pulled down her shirt, willing herself to relax. Telling herself she was just going to check on him and make sure he didn't pass out and hit his head on something hard, she followed him down the hallway. A lamp flicked on in the bedroom as she entered it. “You can't take a hint?” O'Donovan said, from next to the bed.
Toni bit her lip when she saw his jeans were unbuttoned. In the light she could see every muscle, every tattoo, every scar on his chest. Her fingers itched to explore his skin again. But it was not to be. Not tonight, anyway. She took a breath, and tore her eyes away from him. She took in the room instead. It was sparsely furnished, taken up mostly by a big king-sized bed covered in light blue sheets. The only thing hanging on the wall was a small brass crucifix. She ran her hand across the cool cotton of the top sheet. The sheets were high thread count, and smooth to the touch. He liked some luxury, it seemed. A breeze blew in through the open window, and Toni felt goosebumps prickle on her arms.
“I just want to make sure...” Toni trailed off.
“I'm a big boy, I can take care of myself,” he said. She turned away, needing a moment. Her hand found the doorknob to the closet. She opened it, and glanced inside, not looking for anything in particular, just needing something else to focus on. His work shirts hung in a row. His boots lined the floor. “Toni,” he said, his voice harsh. “Why did you come here?”
“I don't know.” She shrugged, touching the sleeve of one of his shirts.
“Why won't you leave me alone?” he said, his voice low and dangerous.
“Because I can't,” she said, dropping her hand to her side. She heard the rustle of his jeans hitting the floor, and Toni let out the breath she was holding. How had things gotten so out of control? She wanted him, but not like this.
“Look at me,” he said, his voice leaving no room for disagreement. She turned to face him and felt her eyes widen in their sockets. He was naked, very naked, his cock long and hard between his legs. He certainly was a big boy. She also noticed he had a large bandage on his thigh. She wondered vaguely if he was in pain? “I don't need any more friends, Toni.”
“Sure you do,” Toni said, forcing herself to look him in the face. His body was too tempting. Her panties were soaked, and the ache between her legs was like a siren call.
“You don't owe me anything. I was doing my job.” He ran his hand over his stubbled chin. “Leave me in peace, Toni.”
“But I want...” she trailed off. What did she want, other than to fuck his brains out? All she knew was that she felt an irresistible draw to him. And she was tired of being lonely. And that, maybe, he needed her too, somehow.
“If you don't get the hell out of here right now, I'm going to fuck you,” he said, matter-of-factly, and she appreciated his ability to cut the shit.
“O'Donovan—” she began, but she didn't get to finish. In a flash, she found herself on her back on the bed. He held himself over her, on all fours. She was struck silent, every thought in her head fleeing.
“I need a good fuck and a good night's sleep,” he growled. “And your good girl act is getting real old.” To
ni's heart thundered in her chest, but she shoved herself up on her elbows, and looked him right in the eye.
“There you go, assuming you know me again. I never said I was a good girl.” She smoothed her hand up his neck and dragged her fingers through his hair. He moaned, his eyes rolling back into his head as she massaged his scalp. Then she grabbed a clump of his hair in her fist, forcing his head back. “But you're drunk,” she said, her tone hard. “It's not right,” she said. “So let me up.” With a moan he rolled them over and she ended up on top of him, her thighs clenching around his ribs. He chuckled to himself, his big hands on her hips.
“You're saying you don't want to fuck?” he asked, his eyes hooded and his mouth in a grin.The abrupt change in his demeanor threw her off. Suspicious, she covered his hands with hers, trying to pry his fingers off of her. “You followed me in here, and you don't want to fuck?”
“I'm saying, it's not right,” she said, not having any luck.
“Not right for who?” He pumped his hips and she could feel his erection against her ass. Then he yanked her forward so that her ass slid onto his chest. She grabbed the headboard, trying to steady herself.
“O'Donovan,” she said, warning him.
“I want you,” he rasped, tilting his head so that his cheek grazed her jean-covered thigh. “I want to suck on your clit. I want to lick and taste and suck all of you. I want to thrust my cock deep inside you and fuck you all night.” Toni closed her eyes at his words and rocked against him as he lifted her camisole. He lifted himself up, pressing his face against her stomach to kiss a spot of skin below her navel. “I wish you'd worn a skirt,” he murmured forlornly against her skin. The ache was spreading down her legs and up her chest as his stubble tickled her. She bucked against him, involuntarily, wanting the exact thing he wanted. She wanted him to lick and taste her. She wanted him to fuck her all night. Yes ma'am. But he barely tolerated her when he was sober. And now he was all over her? She wasn't stupid. She knew he had the alcohol goggles on. She didn't want to do anything that one or both of them would regret in the morning.
Kiss of Fire (St. James Family) Page 6
