Текст книги "Irish Sex Fairy"

Автор книги: Kelly Jamieson

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Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 13 страниц)

“There won’t be.” She looked down at the cushion on her lap then back up to him. “I think I imagined that.”

He stared at her. “You think you imagined it. Why do you say that?”

Her lips pressed together. “I just do. I think I probably overreacted to the guy tailing me close. So I’m sure the accident was all my fault.”

He said nothing. It was possible. And yet, she’d seemed so certain earlier. “Is that what you’re going to say in your statement?”

“I…I don’t know. I just want to tell the truth.”

He nodded. “Well, you figure it out, honey, and we’ll go from there. I’m willing to investigate if you think someone deliberately tried to force you off the road.”

“There’s probably no point in it.” She sighed. “I don’t want to put you to a lot of work for nothing.”

He nodded, not sure how to respond to her. Keara wasn’t the type of person to try to blame someone else for something that was her fault. He was pretty sure of that. Some drivers would make up a story like that to take the blame off themselves, maybe thinking they’d be charged with something. But he didn’t believe she would.

So what had really happened up on San Marcos Pass? He found himself hoping unreasonably that he’d find something on her car the next day, even though he knew it unlikely, and even though he knew if he did, he had a helluva bigger problem on his hands. But…Keara’s new admission that she might have overreacted and the sadness on her face as she said it tugged at something inside him. He wanted to pull her onto his lap and wrap his arms around her.

“Everyone makes mistakes,” he finally said, not sure if she was going to take that as reassuring or an indictment. She just nodded, her morose lethargy heart-tugging.

“You look tired,” he said, standing. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

As Maeve walked him to the door, he asked her in a low voice, “Is she okay?”

Maeve nodded, her mouth tightened into a thin scarlet line, eyes narrowed. “Shane. I’m worried about her.”

He stopped, glanced over Maeve’s shoulder at Keara, staring into space.

“You think she’s hurt? Did they miss something at the hospital?”

“No.” Maeve shook her head. “She’s just going through a difficult time right now. She just needs a friend, I think.”

He met her eyes. What was she saying? “We…I…”

“You two were friends. A long time ago.”

“Yeah.”

“Just be a friend to her again, then,” Maeve said gently.

He nodded and left, about a hundred questions bouncing around in his brain. What the hell was going on? And why should he even care?

But he did.

* * *

As he’d said he would, Shane picked her up and drove her, again in the police cruiser, to the station to fill out the report. She repeated everything that had happened, including the fact that she’d thought the vehicle forced her to the side,

She could tell from the look on the officer’s face who took her report that people probably told him stories about mysterious vanishing vehicles forcing them off the road, into telephone poles, and over curbs all the time. They thought she was just making it up so she wouldn’t have to take the blame for the accident. She could tell.

It annoyed her because she wouldn’t make something up. Sure, she’d probably overreacted to the vehicle being there, but she wasn’t inventing the whole thing. There had been someone following her too close, for whatever reason, and even if it wasn’t totally his fault she’d driven over the side of the mountain, he had been a jerk. She could still be angry about that.

Shane kept his expression carefully neutral as she made the report, unlike the other officer who didn’t much hide his disbelief, and she wondered what Shane was really thinking. About her. She didn’t want him to think she was avoiding blame.

Shane told her it wasn’t likely her car would be able to be repaired. Great. She’d have to see what the insurance company offered her, but now she was stuck in Kilkenny with no car until then, and until she could buy a new one. Just effing great.

When they stepped outside the small police office into bright sunshine and cool mountain air, she glanced at him.

“What?” he asked, looking at her.

She hesitated then said, “I want to have sex.”

Chapter Eleven

Shane stopped walking. Glanced at his watch. “We’ll have to be fast. I’ve only twenty minutes left in my lunch break.”

She gave a strangled laugh. “I didn’t mean right this minute.”

“I’ll call Jim,” he said, taking her hand and leading her down the sidewalk at a near-run. “He’ll cover for me for an hour.”

“Shane!”

He slanted a glance at her. “I guess we’ll go to my place.”

“Shane!”

He felt like he was dragging her along and he paused, reminded of her recent injuries. “You feel up to this?” He had to ask. But if she said no…

“Well…I am still pretty sore…”

“We’ll be careful.”

They arrived at his car and he handed her in, then leaped into the driver’s seat. He debated putting lights and siren on. Nah, he’d get in trouble if anyone found out he was racing home for sex. He hardened painfully.

“I don’t even know where you live,” Keara said.

“Over on Shillelagh Road.”

“A house?”

“Yup.” He drove with determined, focused speed the short distance to his house, glancing sideways at Keara. Her fingers twisted around each other in her lap, but she hadn’t told him to take her home. Yet.

He pulled into the driveway in front of the double-car garage.

“Nice place.”

He leaped out of the car and dashed around to help Keara.

“Yeah. Thanks. My dad built it a few years back.”

Holding one of her hands in his left, he unlocked the front door with his right hand, then stepped into the foyer and punched the code into the alarm system while kicking the door shut behind him.

Keara tugged her hand back but he didn’t release it. “Um…”

He turned and looked down at her. Her teeth sank into her lush lower lip and her cheeks pinkened. “What?”

He was acting like a caveman. A horny, crazed animal. Shit. He sucked in oxygen. “I’m sorry.”

She blinked at him. He tugged her closer and put his hands on her waist. “Believe it or not, I do believe in foreplay,” he said softly, smiling.

She gave a choked little laugh. “That’s good. I know we don’t have much time, but…”

He pulled her closer, against his body, inhaled that sweet jasmine honeysuckle scent of her. He had a hard-on like a club. “We have all the time in the world,” he murmured.

“Um…your job? Shane…”

He nuzzled the side of her neck, beneath her ear, where the skin was soft and sweetly fragrant. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Oookay.” The word was a breath and he pressed a kiss to her throat, to the pulse fluttering there. His own heart was about to pound out of his chest and his cock throbbed insistently behind the zipper of his uniform trousers. He slid his hands down to her hips and then around behind her to the curves of her ass.

Her breath hissed out, her head fell back and he lifted his own head to gaze at her. Her lips parted and his mouth opened with the need to taste her. He lowered his head and kissed her, at first soft, exploring, coaxing. Then with a groan, he gathered her in his arms and brought her up tight against him, loving the feel of her in his arms, and deepened the kiss, mouth opening over hers, his tongue licking over her bottom lip and into her mouth. She tasted like sweet, delicious female and he realized he recognized the taste of her and the feel of her as if the last time he’d kissed her had been yesterday.

The shock of that jolted him like a live current, made his pulse leap, made his cock twitch. He pressed it into Keara’s softness, felt her arms slide around his neck, her fingers slipping into his hair. If they could have wrapped themselves around each other, they would have, by the feel of her straining against him. Her breasts—not big but damn cute from what he remembered—pressed against his torso.

Christ! He hauled her up by her ass, and her legs wrapped around his waist, their mouths devouring each other. He tried to carry her to the stairs leading to the bedrooms upstairs, stumbling a bit with her across the shiny white tile floor of his foyer.

“No,” he gasped as his raging lust threatened his self-control. The carpeted stairs looked good to him, and he considered stopping there and taking her.

“What d’you mean, no?” She arched against him to rub those pretty tits over his chest.

“I mean, I want to do you right here, but I promised you foreplay.”

“Screw the foreplay,” she said. “I want it now. Right here. Oh God, Shane.”

She rocked against him, her soft center rubbing seekingly against him.

Okay, the stairs it was. He lowered her to the gray carpet, two stairs above him, and started unfastening his pants while she reached up under the full skirt she wore and wriggled out of her panties.

“This is crazy,” she breathed, tossing the panties over the railing. He fell onto her, kissing her mouth, her jaw, her neck, taking himself in hand and finding her wet folds. He nudged at her, her wet heat scalding him, so tight he had to push harder.

“Don’t wanna hurt you,” he muttered, nipping her chin. She hissed.

“Don’t worry.” Her legs opened wider, her pelvis shifted and he thrust harder, submerging himself partially into her hot clasp. Another push, sensation sizzling down his spine, and then another, and he was in her, all the way, deep and tight.

He groaned, fragments of sanity flashing into his consciousness. She was bruised and sore from the accident and here he was pounding into her on the staircase for God’s sake. They hadn’t even made it to his bed.

“I’m sorry.” The words squeezed out between his clenched teeth and he kissed her again, her mouth soft and sweet beneath his, her tongue sliding against his, as urgently as his. He thrust into her once, twice, pressure building, heat spiraling.

She pressed up into him with his every downstroke, her mound bumping his lower belly, and then she cried out, her thighs tightening on his hips, her fingers digging into his shoulders.

“Ah, Keara, come for me, Keara.” He drove into her one more time and let sensation take him, let himself go, pouring into her in hot hard, pulses.

He rested his forehead on the carpet beside her while his heart slammed painfully in his chest and his lungs strained for air. “Jesus.”

“I know.” Her hands moved over his back in short, restless movements. “I know. Dear God, I know.”

When he could speak, he asked, “Are you okay?”

“I think so.”

“I can’t believe we did this.”

“Me neither.”

Her hands continued to pet his back.

“Fuck.”

“Mmmm?”

“I can’t believe it,” Shane muttered. “We forgot to use a condom.”

Her body tightened beneath him. “Uh. Yeah. That was kinda stupid.”

“It’s not like I don’t have any.” He rolled his forehead back and forth over the carpeted stair. “I’ve got three jumbo boxes of the damn things up in my bedroom.”

She snorted out a laugh which made her tighten around his still-hard cock. “Really? I thought you’d been using all those.”

“Ha.” He lifted his head, and frowned down at her, smoothing her hair back from her damp forehead with one hand. “I’m sorry, Keara. Are you…protected?”

“Yes. And I think I’m safe. I am.”

“I am too.” He gazed at her. “Sorry.”

“It’s as much my fault.” She touched his cheek. He went to move off her and out of her, and she winced.

“What? Shit, I forgot your bruises.”

“This one from the seatbelt is the worst.” She touched her left collarbone gingerly.

He pulled out and shoved himself back into his pants but didn’t zip up. Rising, he held a hand out to her and she took it and pulled herself up. She smoothed the skirt down over sexy bare legs.

“Well,” she said. “You’ve still got plenty of time to get back to the office.”

He laughed. “Oh no I don’t.” And he grabbed her and swung her up into his arms. With a squeal she clung to his shoulders and he started up the stairs.

“Shane! What are you doing?”

“I promised you foreplay and I’m going to give you foreplay.”

“Uh…wouldn’t that be afterplay?”

He grinned as he reached the upstairs hall, but didn’t set her down. He carried her into his bedroom. “We’ll call it afterplay and if it leads to something, then we’ll consider it to have turned into foreplay.”

Her smile made his heart start thudding again. Damn, he liked that smile.

He carried her over to the bed and lowered her gently to the pouffy surface, a plain navy blue duvet. She sank into the down, loving the softness on her aching body. Aching from the car accident yesterday and now aching from being fucked on the stairs. Her tummy flipped at the thought.

Shane hadn’t just been doing her a favor. He’d been so hot for her he couldn’t even make it to the bedroom. The idea of that thrilled her to her melting core.

It had been so hot, so sexy, so wicked she hadn’t noticed any pain, only felt the desperate lustful longing to press herself against him, to have him deep inside her. Lord, she was melting all over again, slow liquid heat seeping down through her body to between her legs. She tightened her thighs and watched Shane start to unbutton his shirt.

Her mouth went dry and she felt her eyes widen. She’d wanted to see his chest. Dear lord, here it was. He shrugged out of the shirt and let it drop to the floor, and his chest was sooooo hot. Her eyes feasted on the ripped abs, the slabs of his pecs with dark nipples, the dust of hair between, and the thick muscles of his shoulders and upper arms.

She blinked.

And then his hands went to his pants, still unzipped and gaping open, the bulge there impressively recuperative.

Heat surged between her legs again and her nipples tingled as Shane shoved his pants and underwear down. His eyes met hers and he paused. If that had been her, standing there stripping in front of him, she’d be scarlet as Maeve’s hair and trying to cover herself. But Shane stood there unapologetically naked, supremely confident, and damn, he had good reason, because his body was a freakin’ work of art.

As a teenager he’d had a good body—nice male shape with wide shoulders, narrow hips, smooth bare chest—but he’d become so much more muscular since then. He was a man now—strong and heavily muscled and dominant. Keara’s eyes dropped to the nest of dark curls between thick thighs, and his penis jutting out, also thick, long and male-beautiful.

Her dry mouth began to water. She wanted to taste him. But at that moment Shane had other ideas and he fell to the bed beside her and began working at the buttons of her shirt.

He was going to undress her, and her heart swelled in her chest and her pussy dampened even more. It was so tender, so sexy. She longed for him to remove her clothes, ached for his touch.

She had to touch him too. She stroked over his corded arms and thick biceps as he slowly undid each button on her cotton shirt, then opened it to reveal her to his eyes. The way he studied her, with heavy lids and parted lips, was so sensual she burned. Her nipples tightened and her breasts swelled beneath the white lace of her bra. She knew she wasn’t well endowed, but Shane had never minded that, had loved her breasts and lavished attention on them. Her breasts were sensitive in inverse proportion to their size, and she derived so much pleasure from having them touched that she now longed for him to remove her bra, to reveal her to him, to touch her.

And he did.

He slid his hands beneath her back and plucked at the clasp of her bra, opening it easily. Then he drew the cups away from her, slid the straps down over her arms and tossed the lacy garment aside. He looked at her and she tingled and tightened even more beneath his heated gaze.

“You have got the prettiest breasts in the world,” he whispered, and the awe and admiration in his gaze and in his voice drew everything inside her up into a tight ache. “They’re so perfect.”

“They’re…small. And I’m kind of…bruised.”

“Phhht. You know they’re perfect. And the bruises will fade.” He laid his hands on her rib cage so his fingers and thumbs circled them. Then he bent his head and feathered a kiss over her bruises. “Exactly how I like them. Round. I like how your nipples point up. I like how your nipples pucker…” He leaned down and licked one. She shivered. Hard. “Like that.” He licked the other and another shudder racked her. “I like how your nipples are such perfect, hard little points. How they taste…” And he sucked one into his mouth. “So sweet,” he mumbled around it. He sucked again, harder, and her hands went to his head, tried to fist in his hair but it was short, cop short. He’d worn it longer years ago. She raked her nails over his scalp and he gasped. He moved to the other breast, took her nipple gently in his teeth and bit.

Her back arched, lifting her breasts higher to his mouth, sensation sizzling through her veins, pleasure zapping from nipple to womb, flooding her with erotic need.

He cupped her breasts in his hands, sucked and nipped and licked until she thought she would go insane. Nobody had ever so generously tended to her sensitive nipples and she writhed and twitched beneath him, until he lifted his head and gazed at her chest. Her nipples felt like they were glowing, hot and red. She tried to breathe, her chest aching and tight.

“That feels so good,” she whispered, fingers slipping from his head to his neck, caressing his hot skin.

“Oh yeah.”

He moved against her, and she became aware that he was aroused, fully aroused, his erection pressing against her hip. She reached for him, wanting to touch, to feel his silky hardness and yes…she sucked in a breath as her fingers closed around him, burning hot, hard and throbbing. She stroked him, eliciting a gasp and a groan from him.

“So good,” he said, pushing into her palm. “So good, Keara.”

“Yes.” She stroked him, but she needed more, and she lifted her hands to her mouth and wet each palm with her tongue, then returned to him, slicked her wet hands over him and he jerked hard.

“Christ, Keara.”

She liked the way her hands slid now, lubed up and slippery, up over the head, back down, and he thrust into her grasp, eyes closed. “God yeah,” he whispered. “So fucking hot.”

“So hard,” she whispered in return. “Hot and hard. Big and hard.”

He made a low growling noise and she stroked faster. Harder. She remembered he liked it like that.

“Yes.” His hips moved.

“I want to suck you.”

His eyes flew open and he twitched in her hands. “Hell yeah.”

They shifted on the bed, and Keara knelt between his thighs, pressing them open with her palms. His erection thrust up before her, but she wanted to enjoy every second of this, every taste, every smell, so she bent her head and pressed kisses to his thighs, licked the crease of his groin, pressed her nose to the curls at the base of his penis. She inhaled slowly, loving the male scent of him, spicy, warm and sexy. She licked him, up and down, slowly, lusciously, let more saliva slide out of her mouth onto him then took him in. Her tongue swirled around the satiny head, her cheeks hollowed as she sucked, lips wet and lubricious, and then she relaxed her throat to take him deep.

“Jesus,” he croaked, hands on her head, guiding her. “That feels incredible. Your mouth…Keara. Your lips…”

She kept moving up and down until he pulled her away from him, hands in her hair, and although she missed him filling her mouth, she loved the pleasure-pain in her scalp. She moaned.

“I’m gonna come,” he groaned. “Wanna come inside you.”

“Yes.”

He rolled to the side and yanked open the drawer of the table beside the bed and Keara smiled when she saw the three boxes of condoms. He fumbled around and finally produced one, ripped it open and rolled it on.

“Uh…” She was going to say something about how it was kind of too late to worry about that, but she appreciated his thoughtfulness and let him glove up. Instead she smiled wickedly. “I thought you were going through a lot of those things.”

He grinned back. “I wish.” Then he rolled her over onto her back and moved over her. “I still feel like this is too fast. I could play forever with you. There’s so much I want to do to you…”

“I know.” But she needed it as much as he did, aching between her legs, throbbing inside her, thick desire swirling and bubbling, flames burning at her, licking over her with hot need. “Do it, Shane. Do it now. We’ll play later.”

“Yes.” His jaw tightened as he pushed into her again, and God! It felt so good, a stretching heat, a shimmering fulfillment. She arched against him, grabbed his back, slid her hands down to his ass and pulled him tighter to her, deeper, as deep as he could get.

Little yearning noises, gasps and the slick sound of his body inside hers filled the room as he penetrated her and fucked her. She whimpered, lifted her legs, opened to him and held him to her. When he slipped a hand between their damp bodies and found her clit, she cried out. Again, nobody had ever done that for her, ensured her orgasm, attended to her pleasure. She tightened inside, around him, big and filling her, let his fingers stroke over her while his cock stroked inside, two sources of pleasure mingling and twisting into one, coiling together, tighter, higher until she thought she might burst. And then she did burst, an explosion of sensation, sparks shimmering over her, colors shattering behind her eyelids, and she hung on to him so she didn’t fly apart.

She felt him explode too, his body taut against her, surging into her in long, hard thrusts, noises of pleasure and torment rippling from his throat.

He covered her mouth with his and drank from her in a long, ravenous kiss as he throbbed inside her and she quivered around him in aftershocks of delight.