Truthfully, it didn’t matter what she wore; she was stunning. I was beginning to understand she preferred casual clothes, but that didn’t bother me. I’d opted for a button down rolled up at the sleeves and a pair of jeans myself.
I gave her a grin. “Nice shirt, Irish.”
She looked from her green top to me and wrinkled her nose. “I promise you, it wasn’t on purpose. It was the only clean shirt I could find.”
I laughed at that. “Well, I approve. You ready?” I gestured to the door and she nodded.
I opened the front door to Freeman’s and placed my hand on the small of her back to lead her in. I could swear I felt her tremble. I was taking this as a good sign.
Once we were seated and had our drinks, I offered a toast. “To first dates.” I raised my glass.
She tried to purse her lips at me but a shy little smile escaped and she clinked her glass to mine. I winked at her.
“All right,” she said, shaking her head. “Sorry I made this so difficult for you. I have to say, though, I’m surprised you hung in there for so long.”
“What can I say? I’m tenacious.” I took a sip of my beer.
“That’s one word for it.” The corner of her mouth quirked up, which made me laugh again. She was damn cute.
The waiter returned to take our dinner orders. I hadn’t even glanced at the menu so I just asked him to recommend something.
“I would say that was brave of you, but everything here is delicious,” she said, taking a sip of her drink.
“Well, I’m glad I picked a place that meets with your approval.” I gave a mock bow of my head.
“It’s really the only reason I agreed to go out with you.” She tried to hide her grin but did a poor job of it.
I pointed at her. “Ha! Totally untrue. You agreed before I said where we were going.”
“Touché.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. I could tell she was barely resisting rolling her eyes at me. She changed the subject instead.
“So, did the clients like your design?”
For a moment, that took my thoughts straight to the awkward-as-shit situation with the McGuires, but I realized she was asking about the Vaughns.
“Oh, yeah, they did! We made a few adjustments, of course, but they went for it.”
“That’s awesome. It must feel great to have them like your vision.” She smiled.
“Definitely.”
Then I told her about the McGuires and their French bowling court. I left out the part about Tessa and the driveway.
Bailey laughed, as I’d known she would. “Oh God, that is so ridiculous. You should recommend adding a putting green and a cricket pitch so they can round out the pretentiousness and make it truly international.”
“Excellent point,” I nodded. “But you must deal with pretentious people all the time with the whole art scene, right? I mean, maybe it’s a stereotype but…” I trailed off.
A dejected look briefly overtook her face and I regretted bringing it up. But she then cleared her expression and finally responded, “Yeah, I guess. Back when I was trying to break into the local scene there was definitely some of that.” Then she let out a sharp mirthless laugh.
Uh oh. I’d treaded on touchy ground.
“What happened?” I ventured.
Her eyes were on the table but she finally raised them to mine. They explored my face as if determining whether or not I could be trusted. Then she spoke again. “Let’s just say I put myself in the wrong hands and let my naiveté get the best of me.”
I had the sudden urge to punch someone in the face. All I needed was a name. But the waiter chose that moment to arrive with our dinners and the tension of the conversation was broken.
Bailey gave him a smile and then took a deep breath. That was my sign that the subject was closed.
“Thank you. This looks terrific,” she told him.
The rest of the dinner went better than I ever hoped or expected. Bailey showed me her sharp wit and dry sense of humor, but she also let some of her softer side emerge—although, that seemed to be unintentional.
I shared a couple stories about Mark and she cackled evilly over them. I feared I may have earned myself a beating from my not-so-little brother if Bailey ever chose to repeat anything I said.
Bailey, in turn, shared stories from work and some funny moments with her family—especially those involving her dad and his devotion to everything Irish.
We were standing at her car when she told a particularly funny anecdote involving her father’s conspiracy theory about Notre Dame football.
“That’s something I’ve never understood,” I told her.
“What? You mean you’re not a conspiracy theorist?” She grinned.
“No. What I don’t get is why Notre Dame is the ‘Fighting Irish’ when the name of the school is French.”
She put her hand over my mouth as if to silence me from said conspirators lurking around Freeman’s. She even looked around furtively. “Don’t ever let my dad hear you say that. If he says it’s Irish, it’s Irish. No arguments,” she stated emphatically before she lifted her hand from my face. “And, besides, it’s all about us Catholics—you know, the downtrodden Irish.”
I had to laugh. “So, basically you’re saying that my little nickname for you was fated.”
“No, I’m saying my dad is insane. Pay attention.”
I was really getting turned on by her sass and I was more than disappointed I’d have to end the night here at her car.
“Well, I was recently told idiocy runs in my family. It sounds like maybe insanity runs in yours. Should I be afraid?”
She mock-glared at me and gave a dismissive huff.
I couldn’t help it. I reached out for her arm and pulled her into me. “If you don’t stop sassing me, I can’t be held responsible for what I might do to you,” I whispered.
Her face instantly pinked, and I could just imagine the mental picture my words had conjured.
Great, now the semi I’d been sporting all evening turned into a level-five hard-on.
I thought she’d pull away, but then she surprised me again.
“Oh? Do tell,” she boldly returned, despite her look of embarrassment at my comment.
Ah, there was the girl from the wedding.
The one who was audacious and eager. No holds barred.
I found myself in real-life fantasy. I was in a hotel room with an unbelievably sexy woman who kept looking at me like she was starving and I was a Vegas buffet. I sent a small thank you to Mark for insisting I come to the wedding and then swiftly purged all thoughts of my brother from my mind. I was going to fully enjoy this moment, this night, this…whatever it was.
I’d just closed the door and Bailey had taken that opportunity to pull ahead of me into the room. The lights were still out, but the moonlight coming through the far windows silhouetted her and I could see the movements of her body as she took quick, shallow breaths. Then I noticed one of her hands going behind her back and I realized she was pulling down her zipper.
Thank Christ.
There was no way I was missing one bit of this show. My hand groped blindly along the wall while my eyes remained pinned to this gorgeous creature. I found the switch and the lights flashed on.
A look of surprise and…something else crossed her face when the light first came on, but it was quickly masked with a knowing grin. Oh yeah, she knew exactly what she was doing to me.
“God, you’re sexy,” I told her as I remained frozen in place.
The zipper continued its slow decent and she began to shimmy out of the dress, wiggling her hips back and forth. I set my jaw and stayed where I was until the dress dropped in a pool of blue at her feet and she stepped out of it.
Holy mother of…
A lacy strapless bra exposed dark pebbled nipples while a pair of incredibly tiny matching panties barely covered her pubis. The lace-topped stockings that had been driving me mad encased some of the longest and most beautiful legs I
’d seen in my life, and it was all set off perfectly by the glimmering heels on her feet.
I almost wanted to take a picture so I’d have something to remember this vision, but I was pretty sure it would be burned on my brain for an eternity.
She’d struck me immobile and I stared at her stupidly, completely caught up in the image she presented. She took pity on me and approached.
“Your turn,” she whispered.
I immediately snapped out of it and began removing my clothes like they were on fire.
I almost tackled her in my zeal, but I had to get my hands and mouth on that flawless skin. I quickly disposed of her bra and backed her up to the bed. Her knees hit the king-size bed and she fell on her back, her breasts bobbing with the motion. I climbed on after her and straddled her thighs. The backs of both hands caressed gently over her pert nipples and she whimpered in response so I replaced one hand with my mouth, causing her to squirm under me.
I slowly removed her thong panties and got my first feel of her exquisitely bare ass. I was definitely going to get my mouth on it later. I’d get my mouth everywhere on this woman’s body before the night was through.
My cock was rubbing against her thigh and she put a hand between us, drawing her fingers down from my sternum to my aching cock. I ran my tongue up her neck until I reached the underside of her ear where I placed a kiss. “I need you.” I almost begged.
She must have found my tone amusing because I could feel her smile against the skin of my shoulder right before she gave it a nip. “I need you too.” Her voice sounded between panting breaths.
I covered her mouth with mine again and our tongues explored each other as our hands did the same. When I couldn’t stand it any longer, I reluctantly retreated from her body so I could get a condom from my wallet. When I turned back to the bed I was treated to the same miraculous sight as before, only this time she was horizontal with just the stockings on. Those were most definitely staying.
I rolled on the condom and approached. Bailey lifted her arms above her head like a complete wanton and licked her lips.
Holy Christ.
I kissed up her body from her thatch of blond curls to her chin before hovering over her completely and placing a slow kiss on her lips. Her thighs parted in invitation and I entered her slowly, allowing her to get accustomed to the feel of me. We groaned in unison as I pulled out just once before thrusting in fully. She gasped and then curled her legs around my waist.
After that, it was a frenzy.
Sweat-slicked skin and wet tongues danced over one another as she met my thrusts beautifully and moaned my name into my mouth. Her fingernails scored the muscles of my back as they worked to move my body over hers.
At one point, I adjusted our position and she made a sound I didn’t think I’d ever heard a human make before. I felt her begin to pulse around my cock and I continued thrusting through her climax. She whimpered in my ear and I just moved us again so her calves rested against my shoulders, allowing her no reprieve.
Her head was thrown back and her mouth had dropped open to allow her cries to sound throughout the room. It was sexy as fuck.
It was a wonder we didn’t break the bed or at least provoke a call to the front desk.
I managed to hold out while she reached her peak again, but that was the last straw. With a succession of frantic thrusts and groans, I finally gave in to my release and then narrowly avoided collapsing on top of her in sheer exhaustion. We both fell back into the bed in a tangle of sweaty limbs and heaving chests.
“Holy shit,” she panted.
“You can say that again.” My heart was beating out of my chest and despite the exhaustion, I’d never felt more alive.
My body remembered the feel of her as I leaned in and kissed her outside Freeman’s. She didn’t hesitate to return the kiss, so I pressed her into the passenger door of her car and wrapped my arms around her. I needed this woman like my next breath.
But I knew it was not going to happen tonight. It had taken everything in my arsenal to get her to agree to this date and I wasn’t about to fuck it up by molesting her on the street.
I pulled away and put my forehead to hers. Her eyes were soft and lazy. “Bailey Murphy, will you go out with me again?”
That got a full smile out of her and then she looked to the side as if trying to come up with an answer.
“I suppose I could manage that,” she replied and then backed up and rocked on the heels of her sneakers. “So, um, you wouldn’t be interested in coming to an art show with me, would you?”
I’d go pretty much anywhere she asked me to go. “Sounds perfect. When?”
Her smile got even brighter. “Next Friday night? Eightish?”
I gave her another light kiss on the lips and got the details. I’d scored another date and was feeling like my luck was finally turning around.
Chapter Fourteen
Girl Shit
BAILEY
I couldn’t believe I’d asked Jake to Anton’s opening! What had I been thinking? My initial instinct when Anton had first handed me the invitation was to burn it and maybe roast a good marshmallow or two over it. But the more I’d thought about it, the more determined I’d become to show him that he couldn’t intimidate me. He was probably expecting me to either chicken out or show up with my head bent and shuffle around for a few minutes before fleeing. So I’d decided to show up, head high, and get the closure I needed to stop letting thoughts of him make me vomit.
Inviting Jake to go with me would either prove to be the best idea I’ve ever had, or it would end in complete and utter humiliation. It was really a toss-up. But if I was going to explore this self-confidence thing, I’d have to take a few risks. And, yes, maybe part of me wanted Anton to see that there was a hot man who wanted me. I could admit it, as petty as that may be. Don’t pretend you wouldn’t parade some man-candy around your ex!
But, apart from anything involving Anton, the biggest part of me just wanted to see Jake again. I ignored the pounding of my heart at the thought of him. I knew I should take it as a warning, but I just couldn’t.
With the decision made and the date with Jake on the books, I was feeling ridiculously happy and positive—so much so that I could hardly even come up with any snide comments to throw at Mark when he called over the weekend to check on me. And I even agreed to one of Fiona’s dreaded GNOs, but I managed to put her off for a week, citing my busy schedule. Cough.
This new attitude had a surprising side effect as well. It was standard for me to do some sketching in the evenings; however, I hadn’t touched my paints in months. Since Anton, in fact. But I found myself preparing a couple new canvases early in the week and I began a new painting by mid-week. It was all a bit nerve-racking, but I felt excited about my art for the first time in too long.
Over the course of the week, Jake and I exchanged some flirty text messages—I found it much easier to be outgoing and brave when I didn’t have to look at him. He tried to sneak in a dinner date early in the week, but I didn’t want to press my luck. I needed to pace myself to let this newer, more confident Bailey gain a foothold.
I kept reassuring myself that I could do this. I just needed to keep that pesky warning voice at bay and everything would be fine. After all, it had worked since the very beginning with Jake. There was no reason it couldn’t continue.
“Holy shit,” I repeated as we both panted on the king-size bed.
I was in a state of shock. I had no earthly idea sex could be like that. So nerve-tingling, so toe-curling, so all-encompassing, so…everything. Every cell in my body was wide awake as if Starbucks was throwing a two-for-one special and all my cells developed a sudden taste for espresso. But, at the same time, I was completely exhausted from the physical exertion and, I was afraid to admit, the emotional upheaval of the ridiculously fucking awesome sex we’d just had!
Jake chuckled in the bed next to me and then rolled over to place a kiss on my naked shoulder.
“The last
thing I want to do right now is move, but I’ve got to take care of this condom. Don’t move a muscle.”
“Mmm,” was the only response I was capable of as he rose from the bed and I got the full view of naked Jake. Naked was a damn good look on him. He was fit and well-built with muscular arms and a toned upper body from the physical work he did, I imagined. He was naturally a big guy, so there was lots of territory to go over in my little visual survey of his body. I sighed when I lost sight of him as he entered the bathroom.
I heard the toilet flush and the sink turn on and I waited motionless for him to return. I finally understood what the word “sated” really meant. I could happily die here and now, feeling fully satisfied. Well, maybe not. One more round wouldn’t go unappreciated.
When the door to the bathroom opened and Jake emerged, he was carrying a washcloth. I looked at him in question, but he proceeded to the bed where he parted my legs and gently cleaned me with the warm cloth. I couldn’t stop staring at him as he went about his task. Did guys do this? I never knew that. I was so mesmerized, I forgot to be embarrassed.
Once he deemed the job finished, he placed a sweet kiss on my inner thigh which caused my pelvis to jerk up. This made him laugh out loud and repeat it on the other thigh while I let out a little whimper.
He finally raised his head. “You’ll have to give me a bit. I’m not as young as I used to be.” He dropped the cloth and used his arms to pull himself on top of me again so we were nose to nose. His eyes were soft and smoky, and I guessed mine were a mirror image.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and we both settled on our sides, legs intertwined. His hand wandered to my hip and stroked me there.
An urge to explain, to defend myself suddenly overcame me now that the afterglow was receding a bit. I fixed my eyes on his stubbled chin. “I don’t normally…I mean, this isn’t usually how I…” I began, but he cut me off.
The Lucky One (Carolina Connections Book 3) Page 10
