Beers, Lies and Alibis (Warblers Point Series Book 2) (25 page)

Many years and a baby later and Liam still looked at her like the first time they ever had sex, with awe and desire. He had wanted her from the first day they met and he still wanted her; it was an overwhelming feeling. Neala grinded her hips against Liam’s crotch, causing him to moan from the friction. He was hard as a rock and ready to go, like always.
 

Neala pushed Liam back on the mattress so he was completely lying down but his legs dangled off the side of the bed. He put his hands behind his head as he let Neala explore his body. It was exactly the same as she remembered. His muscles flexed as she ran her fingernails over different parts of his bare skin, trying to memorize every contour of his body. He had a light amount of chest hair on his chest that was sexy as sin and as she worked her hand down toward his pants, she followed the line of hair from his belly button to his waistline.
 

Shimmying off her man, Neala pulled down his pants and boxers all in one swoop, freeing him completely. He lay on the bed, with his hands behind his head in all his glory, just smiling at her and waiting for her next move.
 

Neala removed the rest of her clothes and climbed back on top of Liam. She ran her hands along his sides as she dipped down and kissed his chest, all the way up to his lips.
 

“You’re so hot,” Liam said, as she ran kisses along his jaw.
 

“I kind of like you submitting to me,” Neala said, as she worked her way back down to his protruding center. She licked his tip, making his hips buck in the air.
 

“I kind of like it too,” Liam hissed through his teeth as he tried to control the emotions raging through his body.
 

Neala loved that she could make such a strong man fall to pieces in her arms. It was so invigorating.
 

“What do you want?” Neala asked as she took his balls into her hand and started massaging them lightly.
 

Liam’s eyes were closed as he focused on the gentle movement of her hand. “You,” he croaked out.
 

“How many times have you pleasured yourself since we’ve been apart?”
 

“Too many,” Liam said, being completely honest. He was always honest with her.

“Did you think of me?” she asked, while she lightly licked the underside of his dick.
 

“Every fucking time,” Liam squirmed.

“What did you picture?”

“Neala, I am going to fucking explode. Get on top of me, love.”

“Not until you tell me what you pictured,” Neala said, as she continued to lightly lick Liam.

“Ahhhh, fuck. Okay, I pictured your fine ass riding me backwards, I pictured you sucking me off, I pictured your tits in my mouth and I pictured your sweet pussy milking me until I was dry.”

Neala felt herself go completely wet from Liam’s confession. Did husbands really think of their wives like that after they had children and had been together for so long? Apparently, because Liam was on the verge of coming and she’d barely done anything to entice him.
 

Leaving her licking post, Neala straddled Liam and turned around so her ass was in his face and she had a great view of his dick. She bent down and sucked him in to her mouth one more time. Just as she bent forward, she felt Liam’s tongue hit her clit and she nearly shot off of him.
 

Liam chuckled at her reaction. “You ever want to sixty-nine, love?” Liam asked with a deep timber laced in his voice.
 

Neala thought about it for a second, but then threw that thought away; they could explore later, she needed Liam inside of her. She grabbed his dick and placed it under her so when she fully sat down, he entirely inserted himself inside of her.
 

“Holy mother…” Liam shouted, as Neala rocked in and out of him.
 

She placed her hands on his thighs for support as she sank herself further on Liam. The angle she was positioned at not only gave her great access to play with his balls but his dick was also hitting a spot inside of her she never felt before, which set her nerve endings on fire.
 

Neala bent over with one hand and grabbed a hold of Liam’s balls as she continued to pump up and down on him.
 

“Fuck….ahh fuck,” Liam shouted, as his hips thrust into her, hitting that spot inside of her even harder.
 

Sweat formed a sheer layer over her body as the pressure in her body built up. Her toes were no longer a part of her body since she couldn’t feel them anymore. Her thighs started to shake as a dark pleasure spread through her body. Neala screamed at the top of her lungs as she came all over Liam.
 

Never had she had such an explosive orgasm and any manic high she ever experienced before was nothing compared to what she just shared with Liam.
 

Neala leaned back so Liam’s chest was pressed against her back and his hands were wrapped around her body. They stayed like that for a while as they both tried to catch their breath.
 

It was as if in that moment, their love for each other was reincarnated and came back with a vengeance. She needed this man and she knew she would never make it in this crazy world without him.
 

“I love you, Neala,” Liam whispered into her hair.
 

“I love you, too,” Neala said, as she thanked God for second chances.
 

***

All the men gathered around the main work station at The Sleeping Potato early Monday morning. It was supposed to be a high of forty today, which the O’Leary’s seemed to believe was a heat wave. According to Booker’s California bones, he disagreed.
 

The O’Learys were all wearing thermal shirts with puffy vests and jeans, whereas Booker was wearing snow boots a winter jacket, a ski hat and gloves and was still cold. Fiona helped him dress for the weather, knowing full well what her brothers were going to wear, but she told him that it would be okay, he wasn’t used to the weather. But Booker knew better; it was going to be a day of ragging on Booker. He could feel it in the air.
 

“Look at the Sheila all bundled up,” said Bradon. “You got your electric blanket with you?”

Annnnd it started already.
 

“I can still beat your ass in all these threads,” Booker replied. “Don’t mess with me.”

“Ooo, I’m shaking in my boots,” Bradon said, while shivering.
 

Booker made a move toward him, just to fake him out, which caused Bradon to hide behind Finn.
 

“Pussy,” Finn muttered, as he shook his brother off of him. “The man drinks martinis for fuck’s sake. Grow a pair,” Finn said, referring to Booker’s first choice of drink at the pub, something he apparently would never live down.

“I haven’t had a martini since that fateful night I first met all you dicksticks,” Booker replied.
 

“Alright, enough banter for now,” Liam cut in. “Jesus, you’re a bunch of hens this morning. If we want to get the rebuild done before the next snowfall, then we need to get our asses in gear. Finn and Booker, you two will be on clean-up duty, meaning you need to take apart everything that is burnt and needs to go. There are work gloves on the tables over there and the dumpsters are next to the cabins. Bradon and I will start on building frames, so when we’re ready, we can put them right up. There are supposed to be more men coming around lunchtime, but for now, let’s get started.”

Booker was grateful Liam stuck him with Finn because he knew he wouldn’t be able to last a couple of days with Bradon. He could be fun to hang out with, but most of the time, the guy just raked Booker’s nerves.
 

They spent a good portion of their morning talking about Liam’s night and how he was able to slowly inform Neala of everything that was going on. She took it quite well, according to Liam, which Booker was happy about. Fiona had told Booker how much Neala and Liam used to be in love, so it was nice to see Liam get his life back together. Booker could see a change in the oldest O’Leary already, as if he was a little lighter on his feet.
 

Grabbing some gloves for both him and Finn, Booker headed over to the burnt down structure that stood between two of the other cabins. He observed the building and came to the conclusion that it might just be easier to tear the whole thing down and start from scratch. The other two cabins would be easily fixed, but the cabin that had the actual fire in it seemed like it was pretty much scorched…unsalvageable.
 

“I think we just take everything apart,” Finn said, as he stood next to Booker.

“I was thinking the same thing. I think we can salvage the foundation, but everything else needs to go.”

“Agreed,” Finn patted Booker on the back and said, “Let’s get to work, Sheila.”

Rolling his eyes, Booker slipped on his gloves and got to work. Manual labor was never really his cup of tea, but he kind of enjoyed working alongside Fiona’s brothers, using his hands and doing something good for someone else. No one talked; they all just did their assigned tasks, not once taking a break. It was as if they were all on auto-pilot and were just trying to get the job done.
 

At one Point, Booker looked up and surveyed the damage they had made to the cabin and was impressed that he was able to take down a structure using only his hands and a sledgehammer.
 

Booker wiped the sweat from his brow as he took a second to catch his breath. No longer was he wearing any of his winter gear that Fiona had helped him put on in the morning. Instead, he was just wearing a flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He had never been a flannel-type of guy but when Fiona bought him a couple of shirts, he knew he had to wear them and, if he was being honest with himself, they were warm.
 

“We did a bit of damage,” Finn said, as he wiped the sweat from his brow as well. “I feel good about how far we got.”
 

“Me too.”

“Want to grab a drink in the house real quick?”

“That would be awesome,” Booker said, as he set down his sledgehammer and gloves.
 

They walked in silence up the path to the main house. Booker remembered walking the same path many mornings to find Mary Margaret in her white frilly apron serving bangers to her guests with a smile on her face. It killed Booker to think that she was going through so much pain with Carlin in a coma. She was such a strong woman and she was trying to stay strong, but Booker knew the hospital was taking its toll on her; he could see it in her eyes the last time he visited.
 

“How’s your dad?” Booker asked, knowing nothing had changed since last time he’d asked, but he felt inclined to ask anyway.

“The same,” Finn grabbed two glasses from the green cabinets and filled them up with the Guinness that was always on tap at The Sleeping Potato. It was a little early for Booker to be drinking, but he wasn’t going to say anything because he most likely would solidify his spot for life as the Sheila, if he hadn’t already, by denying the dark brew in replacement for a bottle of water.
 

“How’s Blaire?” Finn asked before Booker could comment on his dad.
 

The question threw Booker off for a second, not just because of the rapid change in direction of the conversation, but because of the fact that Booker actually forgot Blaire and Finn were an item at one point. How wrong was that? Was he really that self-involved that he would forget about his sister’s ex being one of Fiona’s brothers?

“She’s alright. Have you talked to her lately?” Booker already knew the answer, but he thought he would ask anyway.
 

“No, she won’t take my phone calls. I’ve been writing her though.”

“Oh?” Booker took a sip of his beer and cringed from the thickness of the beverage. He liked Guinness, but not as a noon-time drink.

“Yeah, I don’t think it’s doing anything, though, because I haven’t heard from her. I don’t know if I have the energy to send her any more. Each day that goes by and I don’t hear from her is like a needle peeling away at my heart.”

Booker would have made fun of Finn for his girly admission, but he knew it wasn’t the time or place, especially since Booker knew how Finn was feeling. There had been moments in his relationship with Fiona that he thought his heart was being ripped out of his own chest as well, so he knew how Finn felt.

“I get it man. I was there with Fiona.”

“If it wasn’t for the fire and my dad being in the hospital, my ass would be in California, fighting for Blaire. I gave her time, but I don’t think I can do that anymore. I have this all-consuming fear that she is going to meet someone else while time ticks away for me out here.”

“I can tell you she’s not meeting anyone right now,” Booker said honestly.
 

“Why do you say it like that?” Finn asked, with hope lacing his eyes.
 

Booker blew out a breath as he raked his hand through his hair. “Dude, this is not my place.”