by Vicki Green
“Hey!” I turn my head only slightly, my eyes looking at his face that’s changed from cocky to concern. My curiosity is piqued. What is he up to now? Whatever it is, it can’t be good. “Look. I’m sorry we’ve gotten off to such a rocky start.” Oh, really? His stance relaxes as I turn around more. His eyes actually look sincere but I’m always on my guard. “Really. I mean it. I don’t mean to give you such a hard time but I guess I kinda have fun doing it. I’ll stop. Friends?” He sticks out his hand and I look down at it warily. Can I be friends with him? Do I want to be? I’m not sure I can with the way I’m feeling, and I refuse to fall into that trap again. So much of my life I wasted thinking Kane and I could be more than friends and look where that got me. I was so stupid. I can’t let that happen again. Maybe if I try to be friends, and I mean friends only, with Caylan, it will be easier on me. Maybe.
I reach my hand out and shivers travel through me when I place my hand in his. Okay, this isn’t going to work. His eyes flash something but return to normal quickly. He feels it too. I think. Shit! I’m such a girl. “Well, we can try. I can’t promise anything though.”
He smiles, and I swear it just went right down to my panties. Yeah, this is a lost cause. “That’s all I can ask, Irish.” Shit, the sound of his voice when he says my name fills the air around me. Surrounds me like I can feel his arms around me, his body pressed against mine…. Oh, my God!
I pull my hand back quickly and turn, climbing onto the seat and sticking the key into the ignition. “I have to go.” He has to think I’m freaking crazy. Maybe I am. His chuckle is low and deep as he shuts my door. I start up my truck, turning my head as I begin to back out. He steps back a few feet. I lower my window about halfway to let in some fresh air but only muggy air breezes in.
“Have a good night, Irish. Sweet dreams.”
I don’t look over, keeping my eyes straight ahead as I drive out of the lot. Well, there’s another clean pair of panties soaked. I’m in so much trouble.
Chapter Two
Caylan
I watch her speed off and breathe out a big sigh of relief as she gets out of range. Damn, what that girl does to me. Oh, I’ve had my fair share of women, not gonna lie, but Irish? She’s something really special. Maybe it’s her snarky attitude, always keeping me on my toes. Maybe it’s how beautiful she is with her light colored brown hair, her dark brown eyes, or that killer body and how she keeps it in shape. Maybe it’s her sweet smell or how she looks at me when she doesn’t think I’m looking. I dunno but whatever it is, it’s keeping my nights sleepless and making me crave her all the damn time. I’m kinda proud of myself, thinking I should change tactics with her. Hoping the “friends” thing might work to my advantage. I’ve never had to become friends with any woman before just to get her in my bed. But on the other hand, I don’t just want to get her in my bed. What the hell is wrong with me? I’ve never felt like this before. Maybe I’m getting sick.
I make my way back to my apartment, still feeling the effects of her. Damn, she makes me so hard. I find it so odd how so many women fall at my feet but she doesn’t seem to want to give me the time of day. Am I losing my touch? One way to find out. I swerve my truck in the opposite direction and head to another bar I found when I first came here. They’re open later and are more of a dance place. The parking lot is fairly crowded. Doesn’t surprise me since there are only a few around that stay open this late. As I open my truck door, music booms from the building out into the night. I walk up the steps and open the door, the smell of sweat and sex fills the stagnant air in the large room. Only having a couple of beers at Pops I could have one with no issues, but normally I stop at two. Alcohol dulls the senses as well as adding weight and foreign substances into my system making me feel unhealthy and I hate that.
I walk over to the bar, put my foot up on the bottom ring of a stool, and look around. Lots of people dancing, sitting at tables talking, and walking around. “What can I get ya?” I look over at the guy behind the counter and smile.
“I’ll just have a bottled water. Thank you.” He smiles back, nods, and walks over to retrieve it. My head turns back and I focus around me. I spot a few women who could be possibilities, one in particular. She looks nothing like Irish and that’s exactly what I need right now. I watch her moves on the dance floor with some schmuck who obviously doesn’t know how to handle her. The song finally ends about the time I get my bottled water. I keep an eye on her as I twist off the cap and take a drink. She sits down at a table near the dance floor, flips her long blonde hair off her shoulder as her blue eyes shift towards mine. She giggles as she speaks with her girlfriend, all the while looking at me. I set the bottle down on the counter and walk straight over. She doesn’t hesitate to stand as I approach. Putting my arm around her waist, I lean down, my mouth close to her ear. “Why don’t we get outta here,” I whisper, blowing a breath into her ear as I take a nip of her lobe. I feel her shiver. She looks up at me and smiles.
“I’ll see you later, Betsy.” I smile and lead her out of the bar. “Follow me.”
After getting into my truck, I follow her little red sports car out of the lot. It only takes about ten minutes before we’re pulling into an apartment complex and park side by side. I jump out of my truck and quickly run around, opening her car door for her. I take her hand, shut her door, and let her lead me inside, all the while we’re silent, only looks and touches. I follow her into the door of her apartment and as soon as she closes it, I find myself backed up against it, her mouth on mine. I hate not being in control so I grab her waist and spin her around, pushing her against it, and pinning her hands above her head. The only sounds in the room are her moans and kisses I’m leaving on her jaw then neck. She begins to squirm, her body pressing against mine, when suddenly everything feels wrong. I do my best to ignore it and make my way up to her mouth. She tastes like alcohol and something I can’t decipher. Strange feelings overtake me. I’ve never been or even thought about being a one woman man, not this early in my young life, but this feels so wrong.
“What’s wrong, sugar?”
Sugar. Sweet. Irish.
I pull away, releasing her hands, and take a step back. “I…. uh. I have to go.” I reach for the doorknob but she moves swiftly blocking it from me.
She takes the step towards me and places her hands on my chest, leaning up, and kissing me. I feel the buttons on my shirt being released. “What’s your hurry, sugar? I’ll give you want you need.”
What I need. Irish.
By the third button, I grab her wrists and look down at her. “Not tonight.” Her eyes widen in shock as I let go, walk around her, and open the door.
“What the fuck? You’re nothin’ special, sugar. I can get someone else any time I want,” she spits out.
I look over my shoulder and smile as I pass through the doorway. “Good. I suggest you go find someone else. Goodnight.” I hear her huff as I shut the door and feel a little lighter as I walk to my truck. What in the hell just happened? I’ve never, ever, done anything like that before. Normally it’s a good fuck and then always back home to sleep alone. No one else has ever been in my head like that when I’ve been with someone else. Irish has definitely crawled under my skin but I’m not sure I don’t want her there. Shit!
I get home and into my apartment. I don’t bother flipping on any lights and just walk straight to my bedroom then into my bathroom, flipping the nozzles on in the shower. I smell like smoke, sweat, and her. My eyes close as I spread the soap over my chest. Visions of pressing her up against the door, my large hands covering hers above her, infiltrate my mind. In my vision, I look down and see her brown eyes staring up at me, eager, burning with desire. “Irish.” Her name leaves in a moan as I grab my hard cock in my hand. I imagine it’s her small hand pumping me up and down. As my balls tighten, I can almost feel her hand moving faster, harder. “Irish, fuck!” I yell out. The sound echoing in the small area. Fuck, I’m in so much trouble.
* * * * *
&nbs
p; “So, when do you head out tomorrow?”
It’s been three days and I’ve been staying away from Irish. Well, I’ve been trying to. I’ve avoided her at the gym but her workouts didn’t go unnoticed. Damn, it’s hard not to notice with that fine body. This is the first time I’ve been back to Pops all week, again avoiding her but I promised Brock and Kane I’d have a couple of beers with them tonight since I’ll be gone all weekend. I’m not sure what I hate worse: being at the signing all weekend or not having any chance of seeing Irish all that time. I still don’t get all these new feelings but I’m starting to bend towards them more. Maybe it’s not such a bad thing except that Irish still won’t have anything to do with me. Doesn’t mean I won’t keep trying. Damn, I love her snarky mouth.
“Yeah, right after I get home from work, shower, and grab my bag.” I tilt the bottled beer up and take a large swig. Brock gives me a smile and takes a drink of his own.
“Head out to where?”
We both look up as Irish sets down our plates of food. My eyes shift over to Brock, pleading, then back at her. “Oh, nowhere. Just a little trip.”
She slams down the mustard and ketchup bottles near our plates. “Not that I care.” She storms off in a huff and I try to slow down my heart. Shit!
I take another drink, hoping it will relax me a bit. “What the hell, Caylan? Why don’t you want her to know where you’re going?” Brock asks.
My face heats, embarrassment develops quickly. “I dunno. I guess I think it’s weird going to an author signing event and being kind of a model. Just feels strange.”
He laughs and slaps my shoulder. “Damn. I think it’s pretty cool. How many people are on a book cover and get to meet a ton of people while at a signing?” I take another drink, smiling around the bottle. It actually does feel pretty cool. He picks up his burger, taking a huge bite. I start to pick up mine when he swallows and looks at me again. “Really. You should be proud. You know Taren wants you to get her signed copies of the book.” He winks, and I can’t help but chuckle.
“Why, so she can ogle the cover?” A laugh leaves my mouth abruptly, nervously. Why does that make me feel even weirder for her to see me on the cover of a romance book? What if the book ends up sitting on her coffee table at home or an end table? What if Irish goes over and sees it sitting there? Why does this scare me? I guess I should be proud and I am, to a certain extent, but still feels so strange. I’ve never been one to flaunt my body or looks. I agreed to it for a friend and for extra cash, to help make a name for myself, nothing more. Still, deep down, I am pretty proud of it. I also have a feeling if Irish sees it, knows about it, I’ll never have a chance with her. She’ll think I’m full of myself, even more egotistical than she thinks now. Then again, she’s smart, more than some. Surely she would know it wasn’t for fame, fortune, or that I think I’m all that. Wouldn’t she?
The sound of Kane’s voice brings me out of my thoughts and I have no idea how much I’ve missed. “Having them signed by the author and model and laying around my apartment, yep, that would be a chick magnet. Put me down for ten copies.” Brock rolls his eyes, and I laugh.
I bow my head, stifling a laugh, then look over at him. Placing my hand on his shoulder, I give him a smirk. “Dude. Didn’t think you needed anything to help you with the ladies.” Brock laughs out loud but what stops us all is the presence before us.
“What’s all the laughing about?”
My heart thuds against my chest rapidly as I look up to see Irish standing there. Wisps of hair have fallen free from her ponytail, framing her beautiful face. Her eyes are inquisitive, her stance stiff but as if she’s acting her tough self with her arms folded. Kane speaks and Brock kicks his leg. “Just a book…. Ow! What the fuck, Brock?” I watch in horror as Irish’s eyebrows raise, her eyes moving to Kane then to Brock. Brock glares at Kane and then smiles at Irish. Real subtle.
“Oh, we were just laughing about something Caylan said. It was so funny but you’d would have had to be there.” I rub my hand down my face, my heart thumping away thinking we’d been caught. She eyes us each warily but finally just rolls her eyes and walks away. I don’t know why it bothers me so much for her to know. Is what I’m doing really that bad? Maybe I’m afraid she’ll think I’m vain for doing it, putting another notch on her long list of things she hates about me. But then, the way she looks at me sometimes, like she wants to devour me. Her body trembling at the sound of my voice or a look I give her. Shit! I’m probably just imagining things.
Irish
The three of them together are scary. I can’t help but shift my eyes over to Caylan. Like, all the time. Just the sound of his voice, his laugh, makes me wet. No guy has ever made me feel this way. Ugh! No! Just no! I am not putting myself through this. Did I not learn anything before with Kane? At least feeling this way has helped me get over my feelings for Kane. That much is good. But I can’t do that to myself again. Is Caylan a womanizer like Kane? Maybe. I’m not sure but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t hide it well. What does he do with all his free time anyway? He works at Pops construction, works out and is a personal trainer at the gym. Surely that doesn’t take up all his time.
The crowd grows thinner as the evening progresses. Brock left pretty early saying he needed to get home to Taren. Kane ended up with a woman who was hanging all over him, embarrassingly, so they left together. Normal. Caylan had his two beers and said he had things to do so he left shortly after Brock did. Now, I’m just about finished cleaning the counter and will be heading home to my small and quiet apartment. Alone. Again. Normal. I guess I’ve done that to myself though. Sigh. Finally finished, I walk out the front door, locking it behind me. A breeze blows my long hair across my face as I release it from its binding tie.
“Took you long enough.”
I jump from the sound of his voice but not out of fright. Chills run through me, which is odd since the night air is still damp with heat. I turn my head and see him leaning up against the wall of the bar. His legs crossed at the ankles, his arms down by his sides. His head tilts as he looks at me, his hazel eyes sparkle from the front light, a small smile on his handsome face. I’m not sure why he’s here, why he waited for me. I take my normal stance in defiance, crossing my arms over my waist, suddenly feeling underdressed. “I didn’t take any more time than normal. Why are you here, anyway?” I take a few steps towards him, my mind wandering. “I thought you went home hours ago.”
He stands up, and I freeze. My eyes melt into his, making me feel uncomfortable as he walks towards me. I must keep control. I need to stay calm, even though I feel anything but. His eyes search mine then move down my face, landing on my lips. “Oh! You noticed. I just wanted to make sure you get home okay. Is that alright?” Now I’m mesmerized by his mouth. Something about that red scruff on his firm jaw. I have to make a fist to keep myself from reaching up and touching it, wondering how it would feel against my skin.
“I.…” Suddenly my mouth is dry, and I feel incapable of speech. I’m so out of my element. His hand comes into sight, and I tense as he lays it against the side of my face. “I can get home.” Did that make sense? I think it did but I can’t think straight.
“Good. I don’t want anything to happen to you,” he whispers, and I swallow hard.
His hand moves lightly up my cheek and back down, my eyes closing with the softness of his touch. How can he be so tender and so manly all at once? I lean into his hand and feel my body sway. A horn honks in the distance and I jump, my eyes snapping open. I take two steps back, looking out into the parking lot then back at him. He’s wearing that cocky grin, the one I want to slap off his face.
My brows lower as I start walking backwards. “I can get home just fine. Been doing it for a long time now. Isn’t it past your bedtime?” I turn and start walking faster to my truck, hearing his laughter behind me. Shit! I need to get home and hide under the covers. What in the hell just happened? I must be out of my mind! Tomorrow I need to shop for some new clothes and then h
ead over to the hotel for the convention. It’s my new job and I need to impress and learn. I don’t have any time for this shit. Or that – man!
After taking my shower and putting on my silky camisole and matching panties, I climb into bed feeling relaxed and sleepy. As soon as I close my eyes all I can see is red hair, scruff, hazel eyes, and beefy arms. Oh, my God! I flip over onto my front, burying my head under my pillow, my hands fisted on either side, and let out a scream. “Leave me alone!” If this is what it’s like to actually like someone — no thanks. This is making me crazy. I’m nervous enough about going to this damn convention and need at least a few hours of sleep. Why can’t things go back to simple? Having a crush on Kane didn’t make me nearly as batty as this. At least I knew pretty much where I stood with him. I move onto my side and hit my pillow a couple of times trying to get comfortable but I have a feeling sleep won’t be coming any time soon.
