Tasting Fear

by Shannon McKenna

  “You can give them my landline number,” he suggested.

  “Thanks,” she said demurely. “That’s very generous of you, Liam.”

  He snorted at her sarcasm and nuzzled his nose into the nape of her neck. “God, you smell good,” he said. “Like something good to eat.”

  “Vanilla sandalwood essential oil mix,” she explained.

  “It drives me crazy,” he said.

  She arched herself like a cat, glorying in his response to her. “So, Liam. Are you done being mad at me?”

  She peeked back over her shoulder after a long silence. He looked thoughtful. “I don’t know yet,” he said. “I was pretty upset. I think we’re going to have to have a whole lot more sex before I work it all out.”

  “Okay,” she said cheerfully.

  His chest jerked with laughter, and he extricated himself, pulling off the condom and heading toward the door. “Have to get rid of this.”

  She feasted her eyes on his gorgeous naked body when he came back into the room. The pattern of dark chest hair arrowing down to his groin, the powerful muscles of his legs and thighs, his heavy arousal, rising proudly out of a thatch of thick black hair. Mmm. Already. Wow.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked. “I could fix you something to eat.”

  “I’m not hungry,” she said. “Not for food, anyway.”

  He came closer until he was standing right by the bed, his cock rigid and high. He lifted the quilt, tossed it away, and stared down at her naked body. “Ah, God,” he said softly.

  She caressed his cock, the pulsing, swollen red heat of it. He grasped her hand, bent to kiss her knuckles, then turned it over to kiss her wrist, her palm, each finger. He pressed the back of her hand against his cheek with reverent tenderness.

  She reached out for him, drawing him down. He plucked another condom from the string, readied himself in a few deft moves, and mounted her, thrusting inside in a seamless slide that made tears start in her eyes. His arms circled her, and they clung, rocking for what could have been hours. She lost all sense of time. The sunlit room was a magical space, dust motes doing a lazy dance of joy above them. The breeze rustled the trees, making wind chimes tinkle and clank. His face filled her whole world. His weight, deliciously sensual between her legs, pressing her down into the bed, in a slow, maddening, pumping pulse and swirl. She could look into his astonishing eyes forever.

  They moved together faster, kissing with an ardent hunger that made her heart swell. Every place his body touched her was like a kiss, specific, hot, deliberate, and she lifted herself against him, reaching for perfection. Without warning, it burst upon her. He cried out at the same moment, and they were flung together into that long fall, fused.

  They came back to reality slowly. He untangled himself, stroking her back. “Was, uh, everything all right?” he asked hesitantly.

  She laughed. “It was great, and you know it.”

  He rolled onto his back with an ironic grunt. “I have my moments of doubt,” he said. “I was just afraid maybe we’re overdoing it.”

  “You don’t say.” She laid her head on his solid chest, practically purring as his arms closed possessively around her. “You’re amazing,” she said lazily. “I’ve never been able to…well, you’re amazing.”

  He lifted his head, eyes curious. “Never been able to what?”

  She tried to gloss over her thoughtless gaffe with a laugh. “I just don’t usually have this wonderful a time in bed, that’s all. I tend to shut down if things get too intense. But with you, it doesn’t happen.”

  He ran his fingers through her hair. “Why does it happen?”

  “Who cares, since it doesn’t happen with you?” she said brightly. “I’d much rather not dwell on my stupid, tedious—”

  “Why does that happen to you, Nancy?” he demanded, relentless.

  She sighed. It would seem that Liam would not be guided around this particular crack in the pavement. “Well, I’ve got a theory.”

  “Let’s hear it.”

  She gathered her composure, hoping without much hope that talking about her hang-ups would not invoke them back into being. “I told you about being in foster care, remember? It was the last home I was in before Lucia. I was thirteen. A nice family in Larchmont. I felt lucky. It was better than a lot of places I’d been. Until their son came back from his freshman year at college. Big guy. Body odor problem.”

  Liam’s face contracted. “Oh, Christ.”

  “Oh, don’t get scared. It’s not that bad,” she assured him. “He never actually…well, luckily, there were almost always lots of people around, and I shared a room with other girls. But he would take every chance he got to pin me against walls and in dark corners and rub his erection against me. That was usually all he had time for. Thank God.”

  Liam’s hands were clenched. “What a piece of shit.”

  “He was working up to it, though,” she went on. “It was only a matter of time. And he was his mother’s firstborn darling. She was never going to believe me over him. Which was sad. I really liked her.”

  She stared up at the ceiling, twiddling with a piece of the quilt, lost in unpleasant memories. Liam nuzzled her with his lips. “And? So?”

  “I told my social worker,” she concluded, with a sigh. “She confronted the mother. The mother took his part. Called me a nasty lying slut. I got a new placement. With Lucia.” She rubbed his hair, comfortingly. “So you see? My luck turned. But I carry some of that old stuff around with me, I guess. I never go for guys who are significantly bigger than me, for instance. I hate being pushed around, or squished. Makes me freeze right up.” She hoisted herself up onto her elbow to stare down at his muscular body, and petted his massive chest. “You’re a big exception,” she added, in a wondering voice. “Very big.”

  His penis was long and hard and red, standing up against his belly. He shot her an uncomfortable look. “Sorry. I know it’s inappropriate, after what you just told me. Being close to you just does it to me. I can’t help it. Or hide it, either. Since I’m bare naked.”

  “It’s okay,” she murmured. “I know you’re one of the good guys.”

  He gathered her into his arms. She melted into the hug. Her arms trembled with the strain of holding him so tightly, but she wanted it to last forever. When they finally relaxed, he brushed the hair off her face and cupped her cheek. “I want to find that guy and kill him,” he said.

  She was taken aback. “Ah, I don’t recommend that, Liam,” she said, a little nervously. “I have enough problems as it is.”

  He traced her eyebrow with his finger. “It feels strange to say it,” he said. “I am not a violent person. I’ve never gone looking for a fight in my life. But I will kill anyone who touches you.”

  Nancy opened and closed her mouth a few times. “Um…I’m not quite sure what to do with that.”

  His shoulder jerked in a careless shrug. “You don’t have to do anything with it,” he said. “It just is.”

  He pulled away and got up, groping for his jeans. Their idyll was over. He was serious again, all business. She admired his ass as he pulled up his jeans. Then he opened his closet, rummaged up high under a pile of thick wool blankets, and pulled down a heavy-looking black fiberglass case. He brought it over and laid it down on the bed.

  “What’s that?” she asked.

  He unsnapped the case. “My stepfather’s old service revolver.”

  She flinched. “What are you going to do with that thing?”

  He lifted a sardonic eyebrow. “Keep it close.”

  “You really think that’s necessary? Do you know how to use it?”

  He pulled out a box of bullets, flipped open the cylinder, and loaded the gun. “Yes, and yes. I could have used this in your stairwell last night. And of course I know how to use it. Jesus, what a question.” He tucked it into the back of his jeans and shrugged on his shirt.

  She shivered at the thought of the deadly thing, cold against the warm skin of his back. “Do you ha
ve a license to carry concealed?”

  He looked directly into her eyes. “I’ll arrange to get one. I’ve never needed one before, so I never bothered.”

  “But until you get one, maybe you’d just better—”

  “Think it through, Nancy,” he said. “If the cops catch me carrying concealed, they’ll give me a hard time. If the bad guys catch me without it, they’ll kill me, and take you. What scenario scares you more?”

  Her stomach cramped, into a cold, hard knot, and she doubled up tight around it, hugging her knees to her chest and hiding her face.

  After a moment, Liam sat down on the bed beside her and put his arm around her shoulders. “It’s just a precaution,” he said gently. “I’m sorry it upsets you. But I’ll feel better if I’m packing.”

  She leaned into the hug. She could never get enough of them. She’d been starving for this embrace all her life and never even knew it.

  And he seemed just as ravenous. They clung, nuzzling. Offering comfort with their bodies, their warmth, the strength of their limbs entwined. The patch of sun on the floor had moved across the room to the wall by the time he lifted his head and smiled at her.

  “You hungry?” he asked.

  “That’s the second time you’ve asked me that,” she observed. “I’m beginning to think it’s a loaded question. Are you?”

  “Starving. I haven’t eaten since before the seisìun last night.”

  She hadn’t eaten since the morning before that, but she thought it impolitic to say so. “You poor thing. Why didn’t you say something?”

  He shrugged. “It didn’t seem important. Until now, that is.”

  “Well, let’s go feed you, then! Have you got food?”

  “I fixed the neighbor lady’s porch steps a month ago, and she gave me a lifetime supply of frozen pot roast stew. Get dressed.”

  “Aw. Why? It feels good to be naked. Are you expecting company?”

  “Eoin’s around here somewhere. I’m sure he has the good sense to keep his distance, but there are no curtains on the kitchen window.”

  Liam finally compromised and enveloped her in his big green terry cloth bathrobe. They went down to feast in Liam’s big kitchen on rich, savory stew, raisin toast, crisp apples, and wedges of white cheddar. Nancy ate with uncharacteristic appetite. Having a man stare at her like that made her giddy. She practiced her femme fatale act, licking fruit juice off her fingers, and was immensely gratified when he dragged her back up to the bedroom. They came together roughly, a wild collision.

  The day went by, a blur of caresses, embraces. The revolver sat on the bedside table. A small, ugly sentinel, grimly reminding her of the fear and sorrow lurking outside this little magic circle.

  The sun was low and the light a deep, rosy gold when she opened her eyes and found him twirling a lock of her hair and staring into her face with something like awe. “I feel honored,” he said softly.

  She gazed at him, muddled and disoriented. “You do? By what?”

  “That Lucia thought I was good enough for you.”

  Nancy’s eyes widened. “Oh, please,” she snapped, and then suffered a rush of guilt. “Never mind,” she muttered. “I loved her tremendously, but I’m furious with her for setting me up like that.”

  He propped his head up on one hand. “Why? What’s so mortifying about her trying to fix you up? She wanted you to be happy.”

  She shifted uncomfortably. “I know, but Lucia didn’t understand one of the basic laws of the animal kingdom. Men only want what they can’t have. They chase things that run. So babbling on about my availability is the kiss of death.”

  Liam gently turned her face to meet his eyes. “I’m not an animal.”

  “I never said you were, Liam! You’re taking this too personally!”

  He shrugged. “Don’t know any other way to take things.”

  She rolled back onto her side with a sigh. “I bet you wondered why a reasonably attractive woman would be so desperate that her mother has to find her a date.”

  He smiled at her and smoothed a lock of hair out of her eyes. “Strike out reasonably attractive and put in drop-dead gorgeous.”

  She blew a lock of hair out of her mouth, and tried to concentrate. “So, um, anyway,” she stammered. “To get back to what I was saying—”

  “Incredibly gorgeous,” he reiterated.

  “Yeah, we’ve been through the beauty-of-the-flower lecture. I got it, okay? Do you want to hear the rest of this or not?” she demanded crossly.

  He crossed his arms behind his head. “Hell yeah. Go for it.”

  “Lucia wanted save me from myself. She hated all my fiancés.”

  That got his attention. He jerked up onto his elbow. “All your fiancés? What do you mean, ‘all your fiancés’?”

  She huddled deeper into her quilt. “She didn’t tell you about my train wrecks o’ love?” He shook his head, and she rolled her eyes. “I was engaged three times. All three of them dumped me. Not exactly at the altar, but close. Two of them also happened to be my clients.”

  He looked incredulous. “Jesus. Why? What happened?”

  She plucked the quilt, feeling stupid. “They fell in love with someone else at the last minute.”

  He winced. “Oh, Christ. Ouch.”

  “Yeah, it sucked. At least by the time Freedy dumped me, I knew better than to get the wedding dress made in advance. I’ve only got two wedding gowns in storage, not three. One takes comfort in little things.” She stared down, afraid to see pity in his face.

  “They did you a favor,” he said. “And me, too.”

  “You?” She looked up at that. “How do you figure?”

  He gave her a grin. “If you were married to one of them, you wouldn’t be here with me right now, and wouldn’t that be a shame?”

  A little fit of giggles shook her. “You’re right. It’s just as well. Lucia nagged and nagged about how they take advantage of me.”

  He shot up. “Present tense? You’re still in contact with them?”

  “Of course. I told you. Two of them are my clients. Or three, I suppose I should say, counting Enid. I manage her, too.”

  His jaw dropped. “These dickheads dump you for other women, and you still work sixteen hours a day managing their careers?”

  “Don’t start,” she said huffily. “I have enough to bear from my sisters. We’ve put it all behind us.”

  “That guy who called at five a.m., was he one of your exes?”

  She hesitated. “Uh, well, yes, as a matter of fact. That was Peter, my first fiancé. He’s married to Enid, another singer whom I manage. I introduced them, ironically enough. He’s an incredibly talented—”

  “Manipulator,” he supplied. “Dishonorable, self-indulgent user.”

  Nancy’s chin went up. “You don’t know him.”

  “I don’t want to,” Liam said promptly. “I know enough.”

  She frowned. “That’s very critical, Liam. You don’t hear me making judgments, announcing that you’ve lived your life all wrong.”

  “I didn’t mean to sound critical.”

  She snorted. “Sure you didn’t. And I don’t mean ‘Liam, you arrogant, know-it-all bastard’ in a rude way.”

  He reached, grasping her upper arms, and dragged her down on top of him. “I’m saying the wrong things, so let’s not talk,” he said.

  Her face was inches from his silvery green eyes. She was embarrassed to feel her anger fizzling away under the blunt force of his masculine allure. “You can’t win an argument by seducing me.”

  He rolled on a condom she had not noticed him unwrap. “Were we arguing?” he asked innocently, pushing her legs wide. She dragged in a gasp as he thrust inside, caressing her with his hot, thick length.

  “Smart-ass,” was all she could say before the power possessed them, and all they could do was cling to one another and ride it out.

  The haunting sound of the Uilleann pipes woke Liam. Nancy’s light weight on his shoulder sent a rush of surpri
sed joy through him.

  He turned his head carefully and looked at the clock. 2:17 A.M.

  Eoin. That sneaky, sentimental little bastard. Nancy murmured softly and raised her head. Moonlight flooded through the window, illuminating her shadowy eyes. She brushed her hair out of her face.

  “How gorgeous. ‘The Soldier’s Vow.’ That’s one of my favorites.”

  “Yeah, Eoin goes for the real heartbreakers,” he muttered.

  She cuddled up next to him again. “It’s romantic.”

  “It’s two in the morning,” he growled.

  She punched him in the shoulder. “Oh, give in, Liam! There’s moonlight, there’s music, it’s romantic. Surrender, already!”

  He silenced her with a kiss. “I already have.” He pulled her hand down and showed her the effect she had on his body.

  She laughed. “Don’t you ever get tired?”

  “Not yet. What about you? Are you sore?”

  “I’m fine,” she said bashfully. “But I’d rather just talk for a while.”

  “Okay,” he said, rolling onto his side. “What about?”

  “Let’s take it one minute at a time,” she suggested gently. They stared at each other in the moonlight as he ran his fingers through her hair. Eoin ended “The Soldier’s Vow” and began “The Women of Ireland.”

  “God, that kid is good,” she said. “So he rents your basement?”

  “Not exactly. He just bunks there. It’s a space to crash.”

  “You give him a job and a place to stay? That’s nice of you.”

  “Not really. People helped me when I was a kid. This is the best way to pay them back. Besides, he’s family. My mom’s cousin’s boy.”

  “People helped you how?” Her slender hand trailed over his shoulders, exploring his muscles. It was turning him on like crazy.

  He wrangled his attention back to her question by brute force of will. “When I was Eoin’s age, I traveled the world. I worked my way across America on cattle ranches. Crewed on a yacht on the Pacific. Worked on sheep stations in Australia. I met lots of people who gave me a meal, or a job, or a place to sleep. It was a good education.”