by T L Swan
“Because I knew if I stayed, I would not have been able to do what I had to do.”
My eyes hold his. “What is it that you had to do, Alastar?” He shakes his head in annoyance. “Can we not?”
He walks into the kitchen to avoid this conversation and flicks on the kettle. He holds a tea bag up in the air and I nod. I know I shouldn’t keep going over that day but it’s damn hard not to.
He stays silent.
A burning question has been sizzling in my brain and I just can’t let it go, no matter how hard I try.
“I need to ask you something, Twinkle, and I want you to know before you answer it that it is totally okay if you do. It will change nothing between us.”
He looks up from his tea making duties.
“Do you have a mental health issue?” I ask softly.
His eyes hold mine as if shocked that I just asked that out loud. “Maybe.” He murmurs as his eyes go back to his tea bag dunking in our cups.
“Diagnosis?” I ask. I need to know what I’m dealing with here.
His eyes meet mine, and he smiles a broad, beautiful smile. “There is no diagnosis, Emmaline. I just get antsy sometimes when things are out of order or if I am stressed.”
What does that mean? My mind starts to run a million miles per minute. “So, last time I was here it was worse than normal.”
He nods again as if annoyed with me for noticing. “And?” he replies, his eyes not meeting mine.
“What were you stressed about?”
He snaps his eyes up and frowns. “You can’t be serious?”
Oh shit, was that out of line to ask that? I give a nervous nod.
“After the week we spent together, do you really think I was happy about letting you go?” He raises a brow in question.
I bite my bottom lip as I think. Come to think of it, I was pretty stressed then, too.
“So, it’s just when you get stressed that it acts up?”
“Yes. If it’s a problem…” He snaps annoyed.
“It’s not… not a problem,” I stammer as guilt fills me for bringing this up. “Its just, you mentioned at the awards dinner that you had been focused on the dark result.” He frowns.
“And…” I swallow nervously as I speak way too fast to try and cover up my reasoning. “If you suffer from depression, I would like to know about it.”
My eyes search his for a black and white answer.
“What if I do?” he asks.
I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter, but at least I will be aware of it.” I hesitate. “That’s all. It changes nothing between us. It doesn’t change who you are.”
He smirks and hands me my tea. “Thank you, that’s good to know. But no, I don’t have depression or a mental health issue.”
I smirk.
“Yet.” He widens his eyes to accentuate his point. “Although, you may have been sent here to drive me completely insane.”
I smile into my tea as I blow on it. If only he knew that he has already driven me around the twist. I sit down at the bench next to him and we drink our tea.
“So, what have you been doing while we were apart?” he asks.
I shrug. “Umm, going out.” I smirk. “A lot of drinking.” His eyes hold mine as I see something cross his face, a question.
“What is it?” I ask.
He frowns. “What do you mean?”
“What question did you want to just ask me?” “Have you…?” He hesitates and blows into his tea.
“Have I what?”
“Been with anyone.”
I screw up my face. “You must be joking.” He looks at me blankly.
I smile broadly. “No.” I frown. Hang on a second. “Why, have you?”
He shakes his head. “No, I haven’t.” Relief fills me and I drink my tea. “Oh, and I have been drawing and writing a bit.”
“Drawing? What kind of drawing?” He frowns.
I shrug like a silly school girl. “I don’t know, just random stuff. The drawings aren’t very good, but I have never wanted to do anything like this before. I’m kind of enjoying it, actually.”
He smiles into his drink.
“What have you been doing?” I ask.
“Working and...” His face lights up. “I have something to show you.” He stands and grabs my hand, leading me through the house and up the stairs until we arrive at his bedroom. We walk in and I stop dead in my tracks.
Holy Fuck.
A huge vision of myself is staring down at me from above his bed. The painting of the beautiful woman has now been replaced by a painting of me. My eyes turn to Alastar as he stares lovingly up at the portrait.
“You painted this?” I ask in shock.
“Aye, I did,” he answers dreamily.
I put my hands over my mouth. I don’t know whether to be flattered or horrified. “Oh my God.” My eyes flick to his face. “You are so talented,” I whisper. This painting is so lifelike it looks like a photo. I walk over to it and run my finger over the painting. I can feel the brushstrokes. Shit, it is actually a painting. I don’t frigging believe this.
My wide eyes meet his. “Why would you want a picture of me over your bed?”
He smiles lovingly and takes me into his arms. “I wouldn’t want any other woman hanging over my bed when it is you that I think about.” He kisses me as my brain malfunctions.
This man, this beautiful man…
“How long did it take you to paint?” I ask as I stare up at the painting over his shoulder.
“About six weeks.” I smirk and my eyes don’t leave the painting, I’m in shock.
“I wanted to paint the one where your breasts were exposed but I didn’t think you would like it.” He smirks cheekily. My eyes widen. “I would have killed you. Nobody should have to be put through seeing that.”
His lips drop to my neck and dust up and down its length. “I love your body,” he whispers into my skin. “I dream about your body.”
I smile at the ceiling like a love struck fool.
He puts his finger under my chin and guides my mouth to his, his tongue brushing across my lips, tempting me to a deeper connection. “It’s been too long since I have been inside you, my love,” he whispers as his tongue pushes aggressively into my mouth.
Hell, this taking it slow thing is overrated. I feel myself moisten as arousal starts to pump heavily between my legs.
His hands deepen their grip on my behind and he pulls me onto his waiting hard length.
I want him. I want him now.
Screw this.
Unable to hold myself back, I take my shirt off over my head and slide my jeans down until I’m standing before him in my underwear.
His hungry eyes drop down to my feet as they flash with arousal. He tenderly runs his hands up and down my body in appreciation. It’s been eight weeks, eight long hard weeks without him. I have missed him, every damn inch of him. The feeling of his arms around me as I wake, his body deep inside mine, and the intimacy of our connection. I glance up at the painting one more time and it reminds me that this is not a one sided passing affair. He feels it, too. The whole time we were apart he has spent painting this picture. He has missed me and I feel an overwhelming surge of emotion toward him.
I take his shirt off over his head, undressing all of him slowly until he stands before me, naked and hard. I have to stop myself from purring like a damn Cheshire cat. He is utterly gorgeous. His tall and athletic body calls to me in a way like never before. The scattering of black hair across his chest, the defined stomach and v of muscles on his lower hips that lead to his dark pubic hair. My eyes drop to his large cock that hangs heavily between his legs. I can see every vein on its wide shaft and I’ll be damned if it isn’t the best thing I have ever seen in my life.
For now, this cock is mine. All mine, and fuck, I’m going to put it to good use.
I push him back onto the bed and he falls as he pulls me down on top of him. We laugh as we kiss, both excited for what’s to come.
In one quick movement he rolls us so he is above me, and his lips take mine as he slides his length up and down my weeping flesh. Every up stroke makes me hold my breath. It’s been a while and I know he is going to fill me completely. He’s not a small man, but like a magician, he knows how to use his wand perfectly. He grabs my inner thigh and pushes my leg up so it is around his chest. His tongue sweeps through my mouth, his stubble burning my face.
I need him. Now!
As if sensing my desperation, he slides home in one deep thrust and the air is pushed from my lungs.
He stays still as he lets me adjust to his size. He kisses me tenderly and his eyes, his eyes stare into mine, betraying his feelings. I smile into his lips and grab his behind to reassure him I’m ready. He slowly pulls out as his eyes close in pleasure then pushes back in.
“I’ve missed you,” he whispers.
I stare at the ceiling through glassy eyes. If I could speak, I would say the same thing back, but I can’t. I’m too overwhelmed by the feelings I have for him.
“I can’t live without you,” he breathes into my neck.
I smile and kiss him as I bring my hands to cup his face.
“Less talking and more fucking.” I smile.
He laughs and slams both of my legs above my shoulders before he drives back into me with force. “Tell me you’re staying.” He growls as he pumps me hard.
“I’m staying,” I whisper as my body starts to quiver.
“No matter what?” He pants as his eyes start to roll back in his head and he really picks up the pace until the bed starts to hit the wall with force.
I stay silent as I try to desperately hold off the orgasm. This feels too good.
“Promise me!” he yells.
“I promise,” I whisper.
“No matter what!”
“No matter what,” I cry as I spiral out of control and my body contracts around his with such force, it causes his own body to release and he jerks violently deep within me.
His head drops as he tenderly kisses my shoulder and neck. I smile, and as I look above the bed at myself staring down over us, I feel nothing but love.
Chapter 20
I sit at the kitchen counter watching Alastar prepare our dinner. Thomas is joining us for the Sunday night ritual. “You should have been a chef.”
He nods as he cracks an egg into the bowl. “Maybe.”
“Have you always cooked?”
“Aye.”
I smile dreamily like a star-struck school girl. “Did your mother teach you?”
“My mama.”
I smile. “Who’s that?”
“My Grandmother on my mother’s side loved to cook. I was her favorite so she would always ask me to help her in the kitchen.”
I smile stupidly. Why do I get so excited about every new piece of information I learn about Alastar O’Shea?
He stops what he is doing, throws his tea towel over his shoulder and looks up at me. “Would you like to go to Ireland next weekend and meet my family?”
“Really?”
He smiles warmly as he kisses me gently. “Really.”
Butterflies immediately take flight in my stomach. “If you...” I hesitate.
“If I what?”
I swallow nervously. “I only want to meet your parents if you are serious about this. I don’t want to go up there and play happy families if—”
He cuts me off with a kiss. “If what?”
I shrug and my eyes drop to the floor.
He kisses me gently. “I don’t want to be away from you again.”
The question has been burning in my stomach rises to a head. “Why did you sleep in the corridor of my apartment?” I ask.
He shakes his head in embarrassment and runs his hands through his hair. “The night I made Brielle come and collect you from my house, I felt so terrible.” He pauses.
I stay silent.
“I came over late that night to check on you.” He kisses me again as if to soften the blow.
I stay silent. I hate this memory.
“I could hear you crying and talking to Brielle through the door.”
My head drops in shame. Fuck. I’m a fruit loop.
He lifts my chin with his finger and kisses me gently. “I knew I couldn’t knock and I didn’t want to go home until I knew you were okay, so I paced the pavement outside of your building.
“Oh,” I whisper unsure of what to say. I wrap my arms around him. We stay still, our cheeks together. Both silent, both lost in a horrible, distant memory.
“Anyway, I was going to go home the other night, but I must have fallen asleep. I woke the next morning when Vanessa opened the door.”
My eyes hold his.
“I just knew I had to at least try and stay away from you.”
I raise my eyebrows. “By sleeping on the floor of an apartment hallway?”
He kisses me again and shakes his head. “I don’t know. I felt better being out the front of your apartment than I felt at home.”
I smile softly. “You are crazy, Alastar O’Shea.”
“You know it,” he whispers. We are interrupted by a knock on the door. “That will be my annoying brother.” He turns back to his frying pan. “I think the door is locked. Could you let him in?”
“Sure.”
I open the door and Thomas beams a beautiful smile. “Hello, Emmaline.”
His smile is contagious. “Hello, Thomas.”
He grabs me in an embrace and twirls me around off the floor. “The angel has come back to rescue my heartbroken brother,” he teases loudly.
I giggle as he twirls me around.
“Hands off.” Alastar smirks from his place at the door. Thomas throws his arm around me and we start to walk back to the kitchen.
“Welcome to the O’Shea clan, Miss Emmaline Mathews.” He smiles.
* * *
I walk down the street toward my office with my hand in Alastar’s. It’s Monday and we have just been out for breakfast before he drove me to work. We stop on the corner and he turns and faces me. “Goodbye.” He smiles cheekily down at me.
I smile goofily up at him. “Goodbye.”
He brushes my hair behind my shoulders. “I shall pick you up. What time?”
I should probably tell him I’m busy and at least try and act hard to get. We had an amazing day together yesterday. My stomach is sore from laughing, my body and mind are blown from orgasming, and my heart is full from loving. I smile an over the top smile.
He is the most beautiful man I have ever met, and I came to the conclusion in the shower this morning that I am utterly and hopelessly in love with every single inch of Alastar O’Shea.
We stand still, both looking at each other, and I just want to blurt it out and tell him that I love him. It just feels right, but after the hell he has put me through, he can say it first. I don’t know if I can hold it in much longer, though.
It’s not going to be me and I’m not saying it first.
“Move in with me,” he breathes.
I frown. “What?”
“Move in with me. Share my home. I don’t want to be away from you for a minute.”
“Umm. Oh, I… Isn’t it a bit early for that?” I stammer in shock.
He kisses my smiling lips. Oh my God, he is serious this time. I feel like jumping in the air and punching it.
“We shall talk about it tonight,” he breathes before kissing me softly again.
I stare at him, lost in some sort of alternative, dreamy universe.
“Emmaline.” He smirks down at me.
“Yes?”
“Will you be missing me today?”
“Maybe.” I smile cheekily. “And will you be missing me today Alastar?” I ask sweetly.
“Not at all.” He smirks.
I narrow my eyes. Cheeky bastard.
“Don’t forget to ring your mother and organize the weekend,” I remind him.
He nods and kisses me once.
“And don’t
forget that you don’t have any food for Fraidy.” That ugly cat has seriously grown on me.
He smiles into my lips. “Aye,” he breathes.
“And don’t forget—”
He cuts me off. “Stop nagging me, woman.”
I giggle into his lips. “See you tonight.”
“I shall wait here, on this corner.”
“Okay, Mr. O’Shea. See you on the corner about five.”
I turn and practically float to my office. Holy mother of God. I put my hand over my heart in adoration. I have never felt like such a lovesick teenager. I get into the lift, smiling broadly to myself like a total idiot, certain that not even Stephanie could ruin my day today.
* * *
At 11am, I am at my desk when my phone beeps. It’s Alastar, it reads:
Boss lady,
Trip to Ireland is organized.
Fraidy is well fed.
You will be pleased to know I take your nagging seriously.
I smirk. What can I reply? I narrow my eyes as I think. I type.
It will serve you well to take my nagging seriously.
My punishment isn’t pretty.
It bounces back almost immediately.
Do tell, what I will face if I do not adhere?
I smile and type.
I shall cook while I sing.
He writes back.
Heaven forbid!
What is the incentive for compliance?
I giggle to myself. God, I love this man.
You may blow in my mouth tonight, my faithful subject.
He writes back.
Compliance will be a given from here on in!
See you on the corner at five, my love.
xx
Oh man, I’m a goner. I smile to myself like a fool.
* * *
I bounce my way to the park to meet Brielle for our planned picnic lunch. We need to debrief each other on the success of our sexy dresses and underwear. For once, today I am hardly able to wait to report back to her.
I find her sitting in our favorite spot under the huge tree and I give her a wave as I make my way over. In the eight weeks I was away from Alastar, Brielle made a habit of coming and having lunch with me nearly every day. She packs us a picnic from her house as we are both too broke to buy much.
