Sheer Luck (17 page)

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Authors: Kelly Moran

BOOK: Sheer Luck
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A quiet clatter drifted down the hall from
the kitchen and I sat up, hating the happy bubble in my chest
because she was still here. Rising, I pulled on a pair of loose
sweats and made my way to the kitchen with no clue what to say or
do when I got there. I halted in the doorway, my heart somewhere in
the vicinity of my throat.

With her back to me, she flipped pancakes at
the stove. Her white-blonde hair was an adorable mess falling
halfway down her back. She had on that long black T-shirt from last
night and nothing else. Her round oh-hell-yes ass wiggled as she
moved. Color me crazy, but it was her bare feet that nailed me. It
spoke of familiarity and home and comfort. Shouted that she
belonged there, in my kitchen, rumpled from a morning-after.

Then she turned her head and smiled at me
over her shoulder. My heart...Christ. I thought it had been broken
years before, shattered to dust or hardened to stone. But no. There
it went, rattling in my chest and cracking ribs.

I was so screwed.

Day Five

 

A
t closing time, I
left Irish Eyes in my rearview and resisted flooring the
accelerator the few blocks home. Earlier, Sierra said she’d be
waiting for me after work, and damn it if I didn’t latch onto the
excitement. Blood thrummed in my veins and my hands shook against
the wheel in anticipation.

Ridiculous how a couple days and a certain
blonde could turn me from an empty shell to a man again. Sometime
in the past few days, I’d let go of the ingrained worry I was doing
something wrong by being with her. Residual tethers of doubt
lingered, but it didn’t have a chokehold any longer. After all
she’d been through, she deserved a guy who could go all in, and
though I’d wanted to be that man, it seemed I was finally owning up
to my part.

With effort, we could do this. In time, we
would make it.

She was passed out on the couch when I got
home. Not having the heart to wake her, since I’d kept her up half
the night, I showered to wash off the pub. Without bothering with
clothes, I made my way to the living room and carefully picked her
up to carry her to bed. My bed.

Damn. Wasn’t that amazing?

She stirred against me as I went to set her
down and smiled. “How was work?”

Sitting at her hip, I brushed a strand of
hair from her face. “I’m happy to be home.” Her smile widened. “Go
back to sleep. We can talk later.” I looked down at her skinny
jeans and pink shirt. “Can I undress you first?” Nothing sounded
better than her skin against mine as I held her.

She was already starting to drift off, but
she nodded.

I stripped her down to just her panties and
groaned at the pink lace covering her supple ass. Later. I’d devour
her later. Climbing in behind her, I tugged her back to my chest
and spooned her, burying my face in her hair and grinning like an
idiot. She settled in with a sleepy hum in her throat. Typically, I
worked out when I got home before crashing, but I wasn’t moving.
She was asleep in seconds, but it took me much longer to wind
down.

And in the morning, she was still in my arms
when I woke. As I stretched against her, other parts of me
awakened, too. I slid my hand from her soft belly to one of her
breasts, loving the weight of it in my hand. Her nipple puckered
against my palm and I kissed her behind the ear.

Stirring, she brought her arm up to tangle
her fingers in my hair. “Morning.”

“Good morning.”

She shivered at my rough voice and arched
her back. “I get the impression you’re happy to see me.”

Always.
Always.
“I’m happy to feel
you, too.” I squeezed her breast and she gasped. Moving my hand to
her hip, I fingered the lace separating us. “I want it stated for
the record, these panties are unbelievable.”

She laughed. “Oh yeah?”

“Hell, yes.” Because her voice sounded a
little hesitant, I slid my hand under the material to her
delectable cheek. At her moan, I kept going and found her slick
folds. My cocked throbbed. “So wet for me already.”

Grabbing the lace, I shoved it down her
thighs and urged her onto her stomach. She looked over her shoulder
at me, a question in her eyes. I climbed her body, grinding my cock
against her lower back while brushing her hair to one side. I
worked my hands between her and the mattress, cupping her breasts
while I sucked the patch of skin on her neck over her erratic
pulse. Her breath caught and she tilted her head to give me better
access.

Christ, I needed her more than oxygen.

“It occurred to me I didn’t spend near
enough time worshipping your ass last night. Next to your breasts,
it has got to be my favorite part of your body.” I kissed my way
down her spine and she shivered. Oh, I wasn’t near none yet.
Palming her round globes in both hands, I massaged them, growing
harder by the second. And because I couldn’t help myself, I bit one
cheek and sucked hard, marking her flesh with my brand.

She let out a startled yelp and lifted her
hips for more. “Aiden...”

I groaned at her wanton tone and bit the
other cheek.

Pressing her face into the pillow, she
fisted the sheets and chanted my name.

At the risk of coming unglued, I spread her
thighs and stared at her pink folds. Drenched with desire. Nub a
tight little bundle. Pale curls. I flicked her clit with my tongue
and she jerked her hips toward my touch.

I couldn’t wait. I needed to be so deep
inside her I’d imprint her damn soul. Grabbing her waist, I urged
her onto her knees, her face still pressed to the pillow, and drove
inside her. A coarse, haggard grunt shoved from my lips and I
stilled.

Panting, I glanced down to where we were
joined and had to clamp down my impending release. She was so
tight, wet, giving. Her flesh surrounded my shaft in a hot blanket
and the vision of me nestled between her thighs, her ass right
there for me to hold, was the equivalent of death by rapture.

Slowly, I withdrew, and the air backed up in
my lungs. Her arousal had my shaft slick, the glide effing intense.
Apparently, she didn’t like my pace. She reared, crashing into me,
impaling herself. I hissed my pleasure.

Rotating my hips, I reached around for her
breasts and kissed between her shoulder blades. “Hold on,
aingeal
.”

I eased out of her until only my tip
remained. She clutched at me like she couldn’t take the loss. I
drove back inside her, earning a sharp cry and an
Oh God
from her mouth. I pounded into her again. Retreat. Thrust. Short,
fast strokes I grunted through and she responded to with needy
whimpers.

When I sensed she was close, I spread my
fingers between her lips where we were joined, feeling myself
taking her, and pressed the heel of my palm over her clit to give
her the pressure she needed to explode. And she did. With a feral
moan, she clamped around my shaft, spine taut, a death grip on the
pillow. I followed, pumping a few more times and emptying with a
shudder.

Best damn way to wake up.

Later, when we resurfaced for sustenance, it
dawned on me I’d never been out with her without Liam around. Not
often, anyway.

I took her to lunch at a quaint Greek place
around the corner and was amazed at the lack of awkwardness between
us. I thought for sure there’d be tension or, at the very least,
some blips of silence, but no. The easy friendship aspect carried
on as if the new part of us had always been a factor. We joked
about stupid shit and held hands and plowed through a platter of
gyros.

She sat back, her smile lingering in her
eyes as she sipped her tea. “Can I visit you at the pub
tonight?”

I blinked. She’d been to Irish Eyes a
handful of times, but because she didn’t like crowds and usually
watched Liam while I worked, it hadn’t happened often. “Uh, yeah.
You sure?”

Lip bite. “I don’t have to. Never mind.”

Lacing our fingers together, I leaned
forward. “I’d like that, you coming by. It’ll make the night go
faster.” I smiled. “It’ll be packed with St. Patrick’s Day coming
up, though.”

“I know. I haven’t been there in awhile and
since Liam is gone...” She shrugged, glancing away.

Damn. My chest squeezed. This woman? She
loved my kid near as much as I did. “You miss him, huh? Me, too.
He’ll be back tomorrow.”

She smiled. Looked at our joined hands.
“What are you going to tell him? About us?”

I hadn’t thought that far ahead. “It might
be better to hold off on that conversation until we know about your
job status. That way we can lay the news about both on him.” Or
not. If we were going to stick and make a go of this relationship,
Liam needed to be in the loop. “Forget that. I’ll talk to him
tomorrow when he gets back. That’ll give him a day before he sees
you again to get used to...things.” Absently, I wondered how he’d
take the news. Sierra had been around since he was two months old.
He’d never questioned why we were friends or why we weren’t more.
Then again, he was nine.

Her thumb stroked my knuckles. “Last year,
he had to do a family tree for one of his classes. Remember
that?”

I grinned. Sierra had gone all out helping
Liam. They’d used popsicle sticks for branches, tissue paper for
leaves, and the whole gambit. “I remember he got an A on the
assignment.” It was still hanging in his bedroom, actually.

Removing her hand from mine, she picked up
her tea. “He asked me if he could put me in the family tree, next
to you. I think he was confused on my role or was seeking
clarification.” She took a drink and set the cup down. “I didn’t
know what to do, so I gently told him it wasn’t a good idea. Said
we were friends and I was like family, but not related.”

Rubbing my jaw, I studied her. Seemed she
was sad by the answer she’d given my son, and that triggered an
ache in my stomach. No matter how things played out, I wanted her
in my life, in Liam’s, always. “I would’ve told him yes.”

Her gaze lifted to mine. I couldn’t read her
expression, though.

“Regardless of our new development, you’re a
part of us. Family isn’t always about blood.”

Her eyes misted and she drew a breath,
blinking rapidly and focusing on my shirt. I fought the urge to
pull her into my arms because she seemed to need to battle the
emotions on her own. After a few beats, she collected herself and
cleared her throat. “Thank you.”

“I think we’re the lucky ones.” That gave me
pause. Seriously, the O’Learys had good looks, charm, and money.
But luck? Uh, not even a little. Not since great-grandpa had lost
his woman’s four leaf clover and hadn’t shown up to prove his
devotion to her at her wedding to another man. Thus, throwing her
luck and love away, and screwing generations of men after.

But...things were different now. Yeah?

With a helluva goodbye kiss on the sidewalk
and a plan in place to talk to Liam, we parted so I could get ready
for work and she could run some errands.

While helping my manager set up for opening,
I felt like a giddy idiot at the anticipation she’d be in my pub
tonight. I don’t know what in the hell was happening to me, but I
liked it. A few times, I had to remind myself not to slip into
regret or over think things. Yet, for the first time in what seemed
like an eternity, I could...breathe. Smile without pain. Hope, for
Christ sakes.

Before we opened the doors, I glanced
around, trying to see it through Sierra’s eyes. While in the design
phase for the pub, I’d incorporated traditional Irish themes with
an American twist. The result was a cozy place to share a pint or
unwind. There was a large stone hearth in the corner. The leather
seats along the bar were Kelly green, complimented by brass
fixtures throughout the space. Dark, polished wood and traditional
Celtic music. I nodded.

By the time the dinner rush had hit, I’d
checked the door half a million times for her. With the bar wait
two rows deep with customers and the floor packed, my manager and I
were busting ass. I poured a dark ale for one of our regulars while
skimming my gaze over the throng to check who needed what when I
spotted her white-blonde hair behind a group of guys.

Sliding the ale to the regular, I whistled.
Loud. “Make room.” Leaning over the bar, I pointed to Sierra, who
appeared a little shell-shocked. The guys moved aside for her and
one offered a seat, but I shook my head, not liking the idea of her
getting jostled around. “Stand on the stool,
aingeal
.”

Her blue eyes rounded. “What?”

I waved my hand, indicating my instructions.
Hesitantly, she got up on her knees on the stool. I grabbed her
under the arms, hauled her across the bar, and pulled her to my
chest. She squeaked and I grinned as her body slowly slid down the
length of mine until her feet were on the floor.

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