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Insta-Ever After: A Flirt Club Novella Collection Page 19
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She reaches around and unclasps her bra, letting her breasts fall free. Her nipples are dusky tips, tightened to hard little points, begging for attention. I dip my head and claim one between my lips, sucking and swirling my tongue. The arch of her back and low, throaty moan that comes from her sends desire straight to my dick. I move to her other breast, doing the same while she grinds on me and makes me buck into her.
“Why do we have so many clothes on?” she asks, her voice a breathy wild thing.
I don’t answer, instead I grip her hips and stand, before turning around and dropping her onto my bed. She squeals and laughs, but quickly goes silent when I reach for my belt buckle. When she takes her full bottom lip in between her teeth, I have to bite back a groan. She slips her shoes free of her feet and shimmies out of her black jeans while I undress at the end of the bed. Her knickers matched the bra, but my favorite part is the damp spot between her legs where she’s obviously wet for me.
“You’re like a goddamn fantasy,” I murmur.
“So are you.”
“I still don’t see any tattoos.”
She smirks. “I guess you’ll have to keep looking.”
I shove my boxers to the floor and climb onto the bed, but I don’t miss the look of surprise when she sees my erection. I’m not a small man. Gripping the waistband of her knickers, I slide them down her curvy hips and over her thighs. I press soft kisses to her belly, hips, navel, and then I reach her wet and ready cunt. I have to stop and admire her for a moment, pink and glistening, so perfect. “Remember, there’s a bar downstairs. Scream into the pillow if you have to, Baby.”
Her eyes widen when I part her thighs and hitch them over my shoulders. Then I focus on the part of her I want to taste. She’s sweet and warm, and when I sink my finger inside her as I suck on her swollen clit, I have to stop myself from finding my release right then and there. In no time I’ve got her biting down on her fist, writhing under me, gripping my hair so hard it hurts.
“God, Brenden, I need you now.” She’s begging and I’m not going to deny her anything.
I crawl up her body and fit myself between her legs, the weeping head of my desperate cock nudging at her wet entrance. “Okay?” I ask.
She nods and wraps her legs around my hips, kicking her pelvis up until she takes me inside her. “Yes,” she moans. “I’m so fucking good.”
My God, but she’s heaven. I move slowly at first, needing to get a handle on myself before I lose control and this is over before it really gets started.
“Please,” she begs. “I need you to move.”
So, I do. I kiss her long and deep, rolling my hips, pumping in and out, taking her higher and higher. She’s clawing at my back and her kisses turn to bites on my shoulder as her tight heat clenches around me. Then I feel it, that rush of wetness that only accompanies the pinnacle of pleasure. Her body grips me like a vise and I’m over the threshold of what I can handle.
“I’m going to…” I start, but I’m overcome by the realization of why this feels so fantastic. I’m not wearing a condom. I pull out of her, spilling jet after jet of my release over her pussy as I groan her name. “I l—” I almost say the words that have been in my heart for the last few months, but I stop myself, falling to the bed and kissing her shoulder instead.
After cleaning up, I worry Emma will leave or that things will get awkward between us. Instead, she snuggles against my chest just like she belongs there. Maybe it feels that way because it’s true. She was made for me.
I stroke her hair, loving how the silky strands slide between my fingers. “Stay the night,” I tell her.
Her answer is a soft hum of approval. She wraps her arms around me tighter and layers kisses to my chest as the two of us drift off to sleep. But one thought circles my mind.
I can’t keep her.
44
I wake to the feeling of someone poking my bare arse. At first I think it’s Emma, trying to rouse me for another round in bed.
“Didn’t get enough last night?” I grumble.
“Feck off, I got plenty from Clarice…Clara…Cleo? I can’t remember her name.” Thomas’ voice pulls me from my fantasy of another moment of shared intimacy with my Emma.
“Jesus, Thomas, what are you doing here?” I sit up, reaching for Emma to cover her from my brother’s sight, but she’s not in my bed.
“I’m staying in your guest room, or don’t you recall?”
“Where is she?” I ask, getting out of bed.
“Fucking hell, Brenden, put your cock away! I might’ve bathed with you as a baby, but I don’t need reminding of that now.” He slaps a hand over his eyes and leaves the room.
I grab my discarded boxers and tug them on, my back and shoulders smarting from the scratches Emma left while I was making her scream.
“Emma?” I call, striding to my bathroom in hopes she’ll be there.
“She’s not here,” Thomas shouts from the kitchen. “There’s a note for you, though.”
My chest tightens with anticipation. Please let her at least have left her number. I don’t even know this woman’s last name. “Give it here,” I say, rushing to where he’s holding the note.
“Dear Brenden,” he begins, mischief in his voice. “Thank you for the amazing night. You swept me off my feet just like you promised. I’ll never forget you. Emma.”
“Did she leave her number?” I ask, snatching the paper from his hand.
I stare at the page, willing some way to contact her to appear, but there’s nothing. Not a single fucking thing.
“No.”
He claps me on the shoulder and gives it a squeeze. “Bad luck. But you’ll see her again. If the sounds coming out of your bedroom last night were any indication, that lass isn’t likely to forget you.”
But he doesn’t know the full story. Thomas doesn’t know that Emma is leaving, that she’s not planning on returning. My chest squeezes at the thought of losing her when I’ve only just had her in my arms. No. This can’t be how our story ends.
I turn away from him and stride back to my room, tugging on my jeans and boots before pulling a sweater over my head. Then I grab my keys and head for the door.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”
“To find my girl.” I glance back at him as I head out the door. “Tell Ma I’ll be there before the wedding and that I’m bringing a plus-one.”
I rush out of the flat and down the stairs, hell bent for my beat up old car.
Trinity College is my last hope at finding her. But I don’t know her last name, her field of study, or anything else that might help me. But I do know the head of the department of Irish and Celtic studies. In fact…I almost married her.
I stand outside Caitriona McManus’ office door, heart racing at the thought of seeing her again. The truth between us was so much more than her not wanting to live a life with a simple bartender. It was that we both needed different things. Now, my hand shakes as I knock on her door because this woman holds the key to my future as surely as she did all those years ago.
“Come in,” she says in Irish.
When I open the door, her eyes widen and shock registers. She drops the Irish immediately and says, “Brenden, what in hell are you doing here?”
I don’t have the time to waste on formalities. “Cait, I need your help. I know this is way outside of what you should do for me…for anyone, but I need you to find a student at this school for me.”
She narrows her eyes. “Why?”
“I’m in love with her. I’m desperately in love and I’m about to lose her.”
Her expression softens. “What’s her name?”
“Emma.”
Eyebrows lift as she waits for more.
“I don’t know her last name. She’s an American. Studying abroad for her final semester.”
Pursing her lips, Cait takes a long breath. I know that expression. It’s the one right before she tells me she doesn’t like what I’m asking her to do for me. “Brenden…”
/>
“Please, I know she feels the same way. We said it’d be one night, but that was the biggest mistake of my life. I have to find her and tell her how I feel.”
Cait rolls her eyes heavenward and mutters to herself. “Emma Hartford. She’s in our program.”
My heart is nearly bursting at the thought of Emma being so close. “Where is she?”
Then Cait’s expression darkens. “She left us this morning. I got an email from her explaining that there’d been a death in the family and she had to go home to America.”
No. She can’t have done. If she’s gone… “Well, can you give me some way to contact her? Her address or phone number? An email address?”
Cait shakes her head. “I’ve already given you too much. I could lose my job if anyone found out.”
“I’m not a bloody stalker.”
“Brenden, I can’t.”
I grit my teeth and take a long breath. “Fine. Thank you for what you did. I’ll find her on my own.”
45
Walking through the Trinity College campus, I should be taking in the gorgeous architecture, the campus tourists flock to see, but I’m not. All I can think of is Emma.
I let her slip through my fingers, like the coward I am. But I thought I’d have more time. I hadn’t expected her to leave without getting a chance to tell her exactly how I feel. Without having time to convince her to stay.
By the time I get back to the bar, my chest aches and the thought of attending a wedding makes my gut twist with longing. But I have to go. I have to see my baby sister get married even if I don’t get my own happily ever after. Thomas left my suit hanging on the back of my bedroom door and there’s a bottle of good whiskey on the counter with a note that says In case you find her. Next to it is a bottle of cheap whiskey and another note. This one reads, In case you don’t. The arse knows me well.
I don’t want to leave without finding Emma, but Ma will have me kicked out of the family if I don’t arrive at the wedding with a smile on my face. I make my way to the bathroom and begin gathering my toiletries, but a sharp knock on my front door has me stopping, toothbrush in hand.
“Be right there,” I call, knowing it’ll be Logan, probably checking on me since I’m supposed to be out of town and leaving the bar in his capable hands. I stride toward the door and tug it open, but everything stops when I see Emma standing there, a hesitant smile on her lips.
“Emma?” I ask, setting the crate on a stool before taking a few steps toward her.
“Hi,” she says, her voice like a dream I don’t want to wake from.
“I thought…I went to Trinity. They said you left. That you had a death in your family.”
She looks at me, her eyes wide and filled with something like fear. “No. It was my gran. She had a scare, but is already back home and would have my ass if I didn’t finish school.”
“Why are you here?” I want to kick myself for asking such a daft question when I should be pulling her into my arms and kissing her senseless.
“I’m…I’m here for you.”
“I thought you only wanted one night.”
She nods. Then her brows pull together in a frown. “But then you swept me off my feet. If I hadn’t gotten a call from my mom this morning, I would have let you make me breakfast and we could have had round three.”
I close the distance between us and pull her against me, kissing the daylights out of the woman I’ve been in love with for so long but haven’t been able to touch. I kiss her like she’s the air I need to breathe, the only sustenance that will keep me alive. I kiss her like she’s the love of my fucking life, because she is.
“Emma, I love you. I should’ve told you last night, but I was too scared you’d run. I’ve been in love with you for almost as long as you’ve been coming into my pub.”
“Oh, God, Brenden. It’s crazy, but I think I love you too.”
Her words lift the weight off my chest and I feel like I can finally take a full breath. She loves me. The woman of my dreams is in love with me and I get to keep her.
“What are you doing tomorrow?” I ask.
She grins. “Nothing special.”
“Come with me to my sister’s wedding. Meet my Ma, my family, and then promise me you won’t leave.”
“Are you sure they’ll want to meet me?”
I nod. “Aye. Ma will have you wearing the family engagement ring by the time we leave if I let her get too close, but yes, I’m sure she’ll want to meet the woman I’m in love with.”
I kiss her slow and deep, needing to show her with my actions how much I want her. The soft moan in the back of her throat rolls through my body. “When do we leave?” she asks.
I glance at the clock and sigh. “I should have left this morning.” The pub is closed for another hour. “But I want to have you all to myself tonight.”
“You can have me all to yourself every night for the rest of our lives if you want,” she whispers, threading her fingers with mine.
“You know, I’ve never believed in luck, but with you in my arms, I can’t deny it’s real.”
“Luck of the Irish?” she asks.
“Fucking right.”
Epilogue
Eight weeks later
I wake to the sound of my Emma crying in the kitchen. She’s moved in with me and we’ve quickly set up house. My little American isn’t an early riser as a rule, but today, something has her upset.
“Em? What’s happened?” I kneel by her side, hand on hers as she sits at the table and sniffles.
“I’m pregnant.”
Shock rolls through me. What is she saying? This is our… child? I think back to the nights we’ve spent together, to the three times we made love that first night. Two of which I had worn a condom, but one of which, I’d been reckless and used the unreliable pull and pray method. We’d been careful every time since then. “A baby?”
She nods. “I’m…I’m sorry. I suspected a few weeks ago but thought it was just stress. I…I want to keep it. Having a part of you with me…a person we made together…I couldn’t—”
“What are you on about? There’s nothing in this world I want more than a life with you, and that includes children. I want you to have as many of my babies as you want.”
Tears fill her eyes, threatening to spill and making them glisten like sapphires. “Really?”
“Yes, really. I’ll make you my wife right bloody now if you’ll let me. I’m never letting you leave again, do you hear me?” In fact, I’d wanted to marry her since she came home with me to meet Ma, but I’d waited because Emma has so much on her plate at the moment.
She nods, blinking rapidly as the tears escape their prison and roll down her cheeks. “I…yes.”
I kiss her again, this time desperate to make her mine. “Marry me, baby,” I say between kisses. “Be my wife.”
Her whispered, “Yes,” is all I ever wanted to hear.
Epilogue 2
Ten months later:
Emma toys with the little clip-on clover I attached to our baby’s wisp of hair. Darcy is squirmy and chubby and she looks exactly like my ma. Red hair and all.
“It’s her first Paddy’s Day,” I say, taking her from Emma’s arms before placing a kiss on my daughter’s soft cheek. “She needs a bit of Irish to mark the occasion.”
Emma snorts, but snuggles up to me. “I think she’s got about all the Irish she can handle with our genes.”
Today marks the one-year anniversary of the best decision of my life, and here I stand, outside the bar I own, holding my wife and child in my arms. Tonight we’ve got a band scheduled to play and the pub will be jammed with people heading out for a craic, but I’ll be staying in, putting my baby to bed and making love to my wife. I don’t need anything else to make me happy. Emma and Darcy are everything I could’ve dreamed of.
“You always say you loved having a brother you could play with. We’re running out of time for this one to have a sibling close in age.” Emma leans closer
and presses a kiss to my jaw.
“Are we now?”
She hums in acknowledgement. “It’s a shame you haven’t done a better job at knocking me up this time around.”
“Hey now, it’s few and far between we get the chance to—”
“I arranged a babysitter for tonight. She’ll be here in about five minutes.” Her interruption is a welcome one.
“What?” Excitement builds in my chest. Finding time alone with my wife hasn’t been easy, but I’ve taken advantage of every instance possible over the last seven months. But those have been during the short periods our night owl daughter has been sleeping, or the odd moment when Emma sneaks into the shower with me. This…hours together, is a blessed event.
“I want you all to myself tonight.”
“How long will she be with Darcy?”
“Overnight.”
My chest tightens as a protective instinct takes hold. “What? I can’t leave our daughter overnight with a stranger.”
“I’m no stranger, Brenden James Kelly. I birthed you and your fat headed brother within a year of each other. I can certainly see to my darling wee granddaughter.”
My ma’s voice washes over me and sends delighted surprise through my veins. “Ma? What on God’s green earth are you doing here?”
“My daughter-in-law called me last week, and we made a plan. Now, off with the two of you. Give me the sweet little darling.” She doesn’t even give me a hug, just scoops Darcy out of my arms and starts kissing her face. “Don’t come back until I’ve got another grandbaby on the way.”
I should be embarrassed that Ma is pushing us for another baby, but I’m not. All I can see is Emma and the life she’s given me.
“Come on, husband. We can’t disobey your mother.” Emma threads our fingers together and whispers, “I’ve already packed us a bag and booked a hotel.” After kissing the baby, the two of us head for the car, ready to spend our second St. Patrick’s Day together, and maybe add another lucky charm to our family.