Kiss of Fire (St. James Family)

by Parker, Lavender

  And then through the daze, she cried out against his lips and he felt her intimate muscles rippling around him. She was coming again, he realized.

  Fuck.

  She was killing him, but he didn't mind one bit. Her orgasm went on and on, and he rode her until his dick went limp. They clung to each other, their bodies slick and moving together in mindless passion. He heard himself moaning her name over and over again, and he wished the moment could last forever. How could she leave him after this? How could she not feel how much he loved her? He knew one thing for damn sure. She was his, and he was hers. Nothing would ever change that.

  ***

  The second orgasm hit Toni like a 2x4 upside the head, it was that unexpected. Toni gritted her teeth, the pleasure so painful but so delicious. Damn you, Sebastian O'Donovan, was the only thought that drifted through the ether. He knew just what to do with his heavenly body, and the lust and love in his eyes had nearly done her in. He wanted her. There was no denying it. He'd shown her exactly what she was missing every day that they were apart. She hadn't realized how much she missed his dick until he slid deep inside her again. How was she ever going to let him go?

  But she would. She had to. O'Donovan and she were not meant to be. Isn't that what he'd said? He thought he needed a different kind of woman than her. Gwen wasn't it. Brigid wasn't it, either, but that didn't mean 'she' wasn't out there. He would probably never stop looking for that mythical woman. As he collapsed on top of her, his heart pounding through his skin, she knew what she had to do. She had to get up and get the hell out of there as fast as she could.

  She felt tears wetting her cheeks, and she cursed herself for crying. But she couldn't help it, the second orgasm had shattered her reserve. She wanted to be tough, but her body was so weak. She felt completely bared to him and there was nothing she could about it. She felt his thumbs against her cheeks, wiping her tears away. She opened her eyes and found him staring down at her, his eyes so intense that she had to look away. Her vision swimming, she stared at the floral curtains, the tears flowing out of control.

  “Toni, lovely,” she heard him whispering in her ear, pulling her against his hard chest. She pressed her face into his neck, letting him comfort her. He settled her onto their sides, face to face, and he hooked his leg around her body, locking her in place. “Talk to me, baby,” he said.

  “There's nothing to talk about,” she said, trying to keep her voice as even as possible.

  “Bullshit,” he said gruffly, his voice in contrast to his hand, softly caressing her back.

  “I wanted...” she started, trying to figure out what else she was going to say. “I just needed it one last time.”

  “You're crazy if you think I'm letting you go.” He pulled her closer, and she didn't fight him. He ran his lips across her shoulder, and she sighed deep. His body felt so good. So safe.

  “You don't have a choice,” she said, a sob causing her voice to shake. “I'm going.”

  “Tell me what to do and I'll fix it.” His voice was hard, unemotional, but she knew he was probably barely holding it together, and the thought made her feel better. She wasn't the only one coming apart at the seams.

  “No,” she said, and he made a strangled sound in the back of his throat, like he was in pain. His body relaxed around her and she rolled out of his grasp and scooted to the end of the bed. He was up in a flash, pulling off the condom and tossing it in the trash. She looked away from him, swiping at her cheeks as she slipped her feet into her jeans, not even bothering to search for her panties. His body was too distracting. He was so damn beautiful, it hurt to look at him.

  When she stood to pull up her jeans, he swung an arm around her waist and shoved her back onto the bed.

  “O'Donovan!” she yelled, her throat thick from crying.

  “Yell at me, lovely. Scream at me. Fucking go to town on me!” he yelled back, crossing his arms. “I can't stand this fucking silence.”

  “There's nothing to say!” she screamed, rolling on her back and tugging her jeans up.

  “There's a lot to fucking say.”

  “Like what?” she leaned over the edge of the bed, looking for her tank top, but he grabbed her calf and pulled her back into the center of the bed. “Stop!” she yelled, frustrated.

  “Say I'm an asshole. Say I'm the worst asshole you've ever met. Just say something!”

  “Will that make you feel better? Because I don't want you to feel better.” She pushed herself up on her knees and jabbed her finger at him. “I want you to feel like shit, because that's what you are. A lying, pathetic piece of shit!” He smiled and her anger flared up so hot, she debated about slapping him again. He deserved it. But he'd liked it too much the last time. She shoved away the mental picture of him, out-of-control lust on his face as he thrust inside of her.

  “That's what I want to hear. Come on. Bring it.”

  “I loved you! You broke my heart! And now what do you want? A second chance? You must be smoking something, because you're high if you think that's ever going to happen!” She couldn't stop herself now if she tried. He'd gotten her too worked up. She tried to lunge past him, and he pushed her back on her ass on the bed. “I'm leaving and you can't stop me!”

  “No.” He was calmer now, so calm that it just made her want to scream more. Somebody had to scream. She was in pain and her pain deserved to be heard loud and clear. She was so tired of hurting. But she saw no end in sight. Now she had to go back to an empty bed after having had him again. It was not fair. Not fucking fair at all!

  “Fuck you, you smug asshole!” She scrambled off the side of the bed, her feet not on the ground for more than a second before he grabbed her against his chest, holding her tight as she wiggled and thrashed against him. “I hate you!”

  “Stay with me.” The words were simple, but the decision was not. He was asking her to trust him, and she couldn't. She couldn't forget the hurt. The hurt had never gone away. Even as she stood in his arms, their skin touching, the hurt was still there. The vision of him in another woman's arms was still there. “Stay tonight.”

  “Granny will worry about where I am.”

  “Give me time to show you.”

  “Show me what?”

  “That I love you.”

  “Your love isn't worth shit,” she said in her most Annata-like voice, hoping it was like a splash of ice cold water in his face. She felt his heavy sigh on her skin, and she shivered against him, the chill of her words palpable in the room.

  “Fuck, lovely,” he muttered. He dropped her and she stumbled on her feet. She whirled around and shoved him in the chest.

  “Does it hurt?” she asked, and shoved again. “Does it hurt to know that there's nothing you can do to fix it?” He didn't answer her, and his silence hung in the air. She shoved him again, and he stumbled back against the wall. “It's not fixable!” she yelled, stamping her foot for emphasis. She realized she still didn't have a shirt on, and glanced around for her tank top. The situation didn't seem as serious with both of them standing there naked. She dipped to the floor, grabbing her shirt and pulling it over head. O'Donovan didn't make a move to stop her. He stood with his back against the wall, his head tilted back, slowly breathing in and out.

  “Well? What do you have to say?” she asked, the silence overwhelming. She found her bra and tucked it in her purse.

  “There's nothing I can say, right?” he said, rolling his head to look at her.

  “Right.” She felt herself nodding curtly.

  “Not even after I just fucked your brains out?”

  “My brains are firmly intact, thanks.”

  “Then let me have another shot. I can do better,” he said, his voice so grave that she couldn't help but laugh. He was across the room and on her so fast that her head spun, his erection pressing into her thigh. “Do it again,” he rasped in her ear.

  “Do what again?” she said, her breathlessness almost giving her away.

  “Laugh,” he swept his lips down h
er throat and she felt herself melting... melting.... “When I'm in bed alone at night, I hear your laugh in my head and it drives me insane. I'm going insane over you, lovely.” He bit down on her earlobe, and she almost gave in.

  Be strong, dummy! her brain screamed.

  “You're just lonely,” she said, even as her nipples pebbled. “You jump from one woman to the next. That's your M.O.” She clamped his hands over his on her hips but she couldn't quite bring herself to throw him off.

  “I was a fucking idiot.” He was trailing his mouth low now, into dangerous territory. He sucked her nipple into his mouth through the thin cotton of her tank top. “I'll worship at your altar for the rest of my life. Believe me.”

  “You just want to fuck again. But these legs are closed,” she bit out, finally finding the strength to throw him off. She stalked around him, sliding her feet into her flats at the door. He sat heavily on the edge of the bed, his elbows on his knees. He looked so broken that for a moment she could only stand there and stare at him. He lifted his head to look at her, and his green eyes looked so helpless and desperate. The urge to hold him came over her like a tidal wave, threatening to knock her over. She wanted to comfort the bastard, cradle his head to her chest and tell him it would all be okay. After everything he'd put her through, she still loved him. She would never stop. So, she did the only thing she could do. She got the hell out of there, and didn't look back.

  Chapter 20

  Vivica was on the porch when Toni drove Granny's ancient Cadillac up the gravel drive to the house. She sat in the dark, a lone citarella candle for company, ankles crossed on the railing. Toni closed the car door lightly, not wanting to make too much noise, and walked softly up the creaky wooden stairs to the porch.

  “You look like shit,” Vivica said, a cereal box on her lap. “I guess I don't have to ask how it went.” Toni slumped in the chair beside her.

  “We humped and he begged me to take him back,” she said, covering her face with her hands. “I cried. It was awful.”

  “The sex was awful?” Vivica said, munching on a handful of Cocoa Puffs.

  “No! The sex was toe-pointingly, teeth-grittingly, multiple-orgasm-inducingly good. Better than ever.” Toni felt a sob welling up in her throat at the confession. O'Donovan had fucked her brains out, just like he'd said. He'd fucked her so good she'd wept. “Then I left him. I walked right out the door.” Vivica crunched on cereal, watching her in the candlelight. Toni threw her hands up. “Tell me what I did wrong.” Vivica shrugged, quiet for a long while.

  “Did he say he loved you?” she finally asked.

  “Yes. But he's one of those that craves comfort, you know? He wants a warm body next to him at night. He wants dinner on the table when he gets home from work.”

  “Well who doesn't, right?” Vivica said with a small laugh. Toni laughed, too, because it was either that or cry. “That should be a court-mandated right for everyone.”

  “Well, he's stupid and I hate him,” Toni lied, sweeping a hand across her sweaty forehead. Whereas Vivica looked like a model no matter how sweaty she got, Toni felt like a damp sponge that needed to be wrung out. “He's a neanderthal. If he had his way, I'd be knocked up and barefoot in the kitchen, cooking him breakfast, lunch and dinner. With dessert.”

  “What's so wrong with that?” Vivica said, leaning her head back against the chair.

  “You would say that, now that you've become a country girl overnight,” Toni said, rolling her eyes.

  “There's something to be said for a simple life.”

  “I do have a simple life. I work, I have friends, I hang out with my family, I smoke occasionally. It doesn't get simpler. I just don't want to be Marietta St. James. Ever. I don't want to cater to some man every day of my life. I don't know if I want to get married. I don't know if I want to have kids.”

  “City girl, through and through.” Vivica said, with a slow smile. “I remember when you used to run around down by the river, barefoot, mud up to your knees.”

  “I remember when you used to chain-smoke and say fuck every other word and have withdrawal pangs for Brooklyn,” Toni shot back.

  “People can change. I hope,” Vivica said.

  “I hate change,” Toni murmured.

  “Well, the world isn't going to stop spinning, no matter how much you want it to,” Vivica said, a hint of wistfulness in her voice.“You love him?”

  “Of course,” Toni said, sadly. “He's got me coming and going, I'm so mixed up over him.”

  “He was pretty cute. For an Irishman. I was always partial to Italians, myself.”

  “Pretty cute?” Toni shook her head, not impressed with her cousin's assessment. “He's the sexiest thing on two legs. And he fucks like his life depends on it.”

  “Ah,” Vivica said, staring into the dancing flame. “One of those.”

  “Yup. He's basically the best and the worst thing ever.” Toni sighed, dragging a hand through her sex-mussed hair. “What would you do?”

  “Oh for fuck's sake, don't ask me!” Vivica said, eyes wide. “I'm an expert on running when things get messy.”

  “Well, we're both running. And we both ended up here,” Toni said.

  “But your man came after you,” Vivica said.

  “Because someone told him where to look,” Toni said, knowing that someone was probably Christophe. “Does your man know where to look?”

  “No.”

  “If he did, I'm sure he'd be banging down Granny's door, just as fast.” Toni leaned forward, to pat her leg, but Vivica didn't reply, just shrugged again. “We St. James women are, apparently, very hard to resist.”

  “Easy to bed, hard to wed,” Vivica said, and surprised Toni with a laugh.

  “That should be our motto,” Toni said, letting the giggles overtake her. Vivica shushed her, and that just kept her going. When the hushed amusement died down, the heavy dread returned to her stomach and Toni sighed. She still saw O'Donovan's face in her mind, looking like she'd ripped his heart out. They were both in pain, and Toni took it all inside of herself. The pain was going to kill her slowly, she realized.

  “So what are you going to do?” Vivica asked.

  “Cry myself to sleep,” Toni said. “A lot.”

  “What the fuck else is new?” Vivica said, popping another handful of cereal in her mouth.

  ***

  O'Donovan forced himself to move. To get up and take a shower. To get dressed. All night, he lay flat on his back on the hard motel bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking of her. Debating whether or not he should drive to her grandmother's house and say whatever he had to say to get her back. Every time he told himself to get his ass up and go, he remembered her face as she told him he couldn't fix it. How it felt like every word she spoke stabbed him through the heart. He didn't know if he could take anymore rejection that night. So he didn't get up. He didn't move until the sun came up.

  As the heat rose outside, he tossed his few belongings into his leather duffle bag. Finding her panties on the floor beside the bed did little to brighten his mood. He just stood there, staring down at them, his head throbbing. Then, before he could think about it another second, he grabbed them and tossed them in his bag. Without another look at the motel room, he slammed the door shut behind him. After checking out, he got in the rental car and drove to the airport. He flew back to New York, and was back to work the next day like nothing had happened. Like he hadn't had his heart ripped out of his chest. The open wound was still oozing, but no one else could see it.

  He'd never had his heart broken before, he realized. What happened with Gwen had hurt his pride, but not his soul. Toni had him, body and soul, but she didn't want him. She'd made it clear there was nothing that could be done. He had no one to blame but himself. The days passed, but the pain didn't. He would find himself in Manhattan on his days off, doing drive-bys around Lincoln Center, looking. He never saw her, but that didn't stop him from looking. He didn't call her, figuring she wouldn't answer anyway. He
felt like he was living in limbo, and it was a shitty place to be.

  He did see Brigid though, a week after he returned from New Orleans, in the supermarket. She was in the fruit aisle, staring at the Granny Smith apples like she was waiting for one of them to talk to her. He stopped still when he turned into the aisle, like an idiot, and she glanced up and saw him. He was going to have to get used to having women hate him. The look on her face left no room for doubt. Her eyes went completely cold and her mouth set in a firm line.

  “Brigid—” he began, but she was having none of it. She turned and hurried out of the aisle, not giving him another look. He scrubbed his hands across his face, cursing himself for the millionth time.

  Fucking stupid jack-ass son of a bitch idiot-

  “Did you go back to her?” Brigid's voice cut through his self-flagellation. She'd snuck up behind him, her face still hard. He turned to face her, but she looked away. “That Toni girl. Did you go back to her?” she repeated, her eyes everywhere but on his. O'Donovan didn't speak, having the feeling that it would be better if he didn't. “Did you go groveling back?” O'Donovan didn't answer again, knowing that she didn't really want to know the answer. “Tell me. I can take it.”

  “I groveled,” he said, despite the pain that was flaring up when he thought about it. “But it didn't do much good.”

  “Good. Good for her.” She finally lifted her eyes to meet his. “Just tell me one thing. Did you ever like me? I mean, at all?”