CHAPTER 13

Renner

Fire licks over my skin and I push my legs apart, just as Cillian tells me to do. I don't hesitate, I don't think. I just want to feel... to drown in the exhilaration. Last night, my body relented to his, operating on pure lust and desire. Not once did I think to analyze, or plan out what would happen the next morning or even consider that this could have disastrous consequences down the road for me.

No... I let go. And it was exactly how I imagine it would be if I went skydiving or bungee jumping. Part thrill, part terror, and part adrenaline rush.

And then it was all pleasure. Hot, carnal... almost painful... pleasure. I'd never felt anything like it and when I it was over, I knew it had only just begun for me.

My body quivers as Cillian sinks two fingers into me, the invasion at odds with the soft kisses he is layering on my neck.

I tense up as he removes his hand from between my legs, lightly skimming them over my hips and to my back. I can feel him pull back from me slightly, his fingers rubbing over the butterfly tattoo on my lower back. I got that during my freshman year in college—something my mother was completely dismayed to see the following summer when we were at the beach.

"I never would have pictured you with a tattoo."

"It was my one small rebellion in college."

"It's sweet. Just like you."

Cillian doesn't say anything further and he doesn't touch me anywhere else. My body starts quaking, anticipating a deeper touch... something other than this light stroking he is doing. It's so at odds with the rougher way he normally plays with me.

Finally, he sinks the tips of his fingers into the back waistband and I wait for him to pull my panties down my legs. I almost shiver in advance of the erotic move.

But he has other ideas, because I feel him briefly grab the material tight in his hands, and then he rips them straight down the middle. The shredding fabric and the fluttering feel of the silk against the inside of my legs as the material falls to the ground has me gasping.

Cillian then pulls my tank top over my head and throws it aside. Carefully taking my hair, he gathers it loosely and lays it over my left shoulder, so my entire backside is bared to him.

His knuckles graze upward from my lower spine until they stop just between my shoulder blades. My eyes are pinned onto the coffee pot but I want to turn my head to see the look on his face. Yet, part of me is afraid as I can only imagine the heat that will be in his eyes and I'll probably incinerate on the spot.

Splaying his fingers out across my upper back, he pushes, causing me to bend forward toward the counter. My hands automatically come up to grasp the edge. When my chest is nearly parallel to the floor, his hands come back to my hips. Sticking a leg in between mine, I can feel the rough burn of his jeans between my thighs as he sweeps his leg back and forth, spreading my own legs wider.

I'm trembling, knowing that he's going to do. He's bent me over into the most intimate of positions in the broad daylight of my kitchen. My coffee pot is percolating merrily but all I can think about his Cillian sinking himself into me.

I hear him unzip his jeans and then he grabs the condom off the counter. I close my eyes, suddenly wanting to banish the coffee pot from my view and concentrate on the sounds. The condom packet rips open and he's able to roll it on one-handed because his other hand stays on my hip, gripping it slightly.

He poises himself behind me and I can feel the tip of him against me, pushing in slightly. But he doesn't make a further move. Instead, both of his hands lie on my lower back and then smooth softly upward.

"I love your back, Renner. It's so fucking sexy. I've been fantasizing about doing this to you since I saw you in that barely there halter top you had on the other night."

He leans over and licks one of my shoulder blades, the metal ball rolling over my skin. I let out a tiny sigh because his tongue feels so good on me.

"While I love staring at your gorgeous face while I'm fucking you, I know this is going to be my favorite position with you. Watching you bend over for me... knowing how tight you'll be this way. It will feel good, baby. Trust me."

And I did. Trust him to make it feel good.

Layering kisses and licks to my back, I finally feel him pull up. One hand leaves my back, and I know he's using it to guide himself into me. He curses under his breath when he pushes in that first inch.

He rocks against me, going in just a little deeper, and then he sucks in his breath between his teeth. That sound...knowing that he loves the way I feel... it practically causes my legs to give out.

Placing both hands back on my hips, he circles his pelvis and slides the rest of the way in. Oh, my God... he's deep. Deeper than I felt last night. And he's struck something on the inside of me that I've never felt before.

He pulls slowly out, just to the tip, and then pushes back into me slowly. I half expected him to fuck me hard, but he's drawing this out for some reason. Every time our bodies connect fully, it knocks a little of the oxygen from my lungs. The pleasure of whatever he is hitting inside of me causes pleasurable cramps to push outward.

I think I agree with him... this may be my favorite position.

Cillian's movements eventually become faster, until the kitchen is filled with our moans and the slapping of his skin against mine. The zipper on his jeans and the rough feel of his denim abrades the skin on my thighs, but somehow that intensifies the pleasure.

He lets go of my hips and snakes his hands around to the front, palming each breast. He kneads them gently and they are so heavy and aching, I almost cry out in distress. Then he pinches each nipple, a bit hard, and with the way his hard length is pounding in and out of me, it causes an orgasm to rocket through me. My hips automatically push back against him, wanting him somehow deeper than he already is.

His hands come back to my hips, his fingertips digging into my skin. He goes harder yet, and then I hear him whispering to himself, "Yes... yes... Renner... fuck yes."

He slams in one more time, flexing his fingers into my skin deeper, and then his whole body tenses hard and a long groan comes out of his mouth.

I can feel him pulsing inside of me and it causes tiny sizzles of pleasure to course through me again. Tears well up in my eyes, because the pleasure is so intense.

Something has passed between us, and it's shaken more than just my body.

When Cillian finally stops shuddering, he lays a soft kiss on the middle of my spine and pulls out of me. I straighten my body up and turn. He peels the condom off and throws it in my trashcan. I watch as he pulls his jeans up and zips them closed. Then Cillian turns and leans back against the sink, resting his hands on the edge near his hips.

He stares at me, boldly running his eyes down my body and back up again. I feel self-conscious, which is strange considering the incredible act of intimacy we just shared. I start to cross my arms over my chest to hide my breasts, but he says, "Don't."

I drop my arms back down, willingly obeying his command.

"Don't ever cover your body up in front of me. It's beautiful."

He holds one hand out to me and I reach out to take it. Our fingers link and he pulls me into him. Stepping in between his legs, he wraps his arms around me and hugs me tight to him. I feel his lips on top of my head. "You are fucking amazing."

I smile at those words. "Yeah, you're not so bad yourself."

He holds me for a few more moments then says, "How about I cook you some breakfast?"

I glance up at him, a smirk on my face. "You can cook?"

"How about I take you out for breakfast?" he amends.

***

Cillian and I are lingering on a second cup of tea at a small diner that is just down from my apartment. The man can pack some food away because he ate his entire Irish breakfast and half of mine. When I commented on it, he just grinned at me and told me that he'd burned too many calories off in the past twelve hours.

"So, what's with the asshole?" Cillian asks me.

"Asshole?" My mind is blank.

"Yeah, the one that was trying to kiss you last night."

"Oh." I'm not sure how to explain Cormac, so I opt for ambiguity instead. "Just an ex-boyfriend."

"I don't think he got the message that you were his ex," he observes.

Sighing, I take another sip of my tea. "He wants to get back together."

Cillian's words are sharp. "Do you?"

"Of course not... I mean... I had considered it briefly but... no, I couldn't. Not after..." I fall silent, looking down into my teacup. My face flames red, thinking about what he did to me, and I curse myself for even giving him the time of day.

"Not after what?" His words are soft, encouraging.

My eyes lift to his. "I'd rather not talk about it."

He just cocks a perfect eyebrow at me. "After what we shared last night... this morning? Come on, indulge me, Renner. I almost shanked the guy for you last night."

I had forgotten about that. "You wouldn't have."

His eyes go hard. "I would have... if he didn't get his hands off of you by the count of three."

Something about the possessive tone of his voice causes me to shiver and I don't doubt that Cillian would have rained some violence down on Cormac last night if he hadn't let me go.

"You're something else, you know that?"

"I take that as a compliment. So, what's the deal with him?"

I'm not sure why I'm trusting Cillian with this information, because it still embarrasses me greatly, but something clearly has changed between us. I know this is nothing more than just some damn hot sex, but I don't feel like Cillian would judge me harshly.

"So, I had this ideal man. Silly really, but it's what I always wanted. I wanted a nice, stable man. I wanted the house in the suburbs with a white picket fence, a dog, and kids. I thought that was Cormac. We worked together and had dated seriously for about six months. He’s a pilot with Delta and I was a flight attendant. I thought we'd get married one day. Turns out... he was already married."

"Ah... he was a cheatin' man."

I snort over those simple words. "He was so much more than that." I don't say anymore, the shame starting to overwhelm me.

"Tell me, Renner." Cillian’s words are so soft, I can barely hear them. His eyes are filled with sympathy because he knows that whatever I'm getting ready to tell him, is rough for me. For added measure, he reaches across the table and takes my hand. He soothes the back of my hand with his thumb, and I keep my eyes fixed on the heavy, silver Celtic ring he wears on it.

"His wife found out when I sent him a suggestive text. She apparently confronted him and he denied we had a relationship. Which, if that's all it was, would be understandable. But... to prove to her that I was nothing to him, he actually accused me of sexual harassment at work and I lost my job."

"What the fuck? I definitely should have cut that mother-fucker when I had the chance to."

I smile sadly and then pour the entire story out to Cillian. I don't leave anything out, even admitting that I'm basically hiding out here in Ireland because I'm too ashamed to go home and I really don't even know what to do with my life right now.

He stands from the table, pulling me up with him. Then he surprises me when he wraps his arms around me in the most gentle of hugs. "He's a coward, Renner. Plain and simple. He never deserved one minute of the attention he got from you."

I squeeze his waist. "I think my character-o-meter is broken."

He leans back and looks at me. "You're what?"

"My character-o-meter. You know—that thing by which I judge a man's character. I thought he was everything I was looking for."

Cillian laughs. "And what did that character—whatever you call it—say about me?"

"Well, it definitely misled me. I had no idea you could be this sweet."

Cillian shakes his head with mock sympathy. "It's definitely broken, darlin'. I'm just horny and want in your pants, so I'll say whatever I need to get there."

I throw my head back and burst out laughing. When I pull it back up and look at him, his head is tilted to the side and his eyes are curiously watching me.

"What?" I say as I self-consciously smooth my hair.

He grabs my hand from my head and turns it over to kiss my wrist. "Nothing. You're just stunning when you laugh, that's all."

I know I shouldn't let those words affect me but I have no control over the way my heart trips over those endearments. For the first time, I start to wonder if this can really just be sex for me. Particularly when his words affect me so much.

Releasing me, Cillian steps back and pulls his phone out. He dials a number and watches me while it rings. Someone answers and without taking his eyes off me, he says, "Keefe... it's Cillian. Listen... I'd like to take Renner out to Marlay Park today and was wondering if you could get someone to cover her shift."

I jolt toward him, hissing, "Stop. What are you doing?"

He steps away from me, a sly grin on his face, keeping himself and the phone just out of my reach. "Yeah. I agree. She needs to have some fun. Okay? Thanks. Cheers."

Cillian disconnects and shoves the phone in his pocket.

"What did you do that for?" I ask, angry that he would just assume I could get the time off.

"I did it because I want to spend more time with you, and I don't want to relinquish you up to The Hibernian tonight."

"You can't just go making decisions like that for me. I have responsibilities, you know."

"Quit grumbling, Ren. It's done and you're going to thank me over and over again I did that."

I cross my arms over my chest and glare at him. "Now why would I do that?"

"First, you're going to thank me because I'm getting ready to take you to an Irish music festival and you're going to have a ton of fun with me listening to some great bands."

"And why else would I be thankful?"

He steps into me, grabbing my chin with his hand. Bringing his lips close to mine, he murmurs, "Because after, I'm going to bring you back to my flat and I'm going to make you come over and over again tonight."

Oh, shit. My entire body floods with lust at the thought, and just like that... I want to capitulate. The thought of him doing whatever he wants to my body is a turn on. But something about this bothers me.

I can't have him dictating everything to me. I've certainly given in to my baser desires where he is concerned, and I know that Cillian likes to be in control, but when it boils right down to it, I don't want someone controlling me because he can.

I step away from him, pulling my phone out. I dial Uncle Keefe and when he answers, I tersely say, "Uncle Keefe. Don't switch my shift. I'll be in at the regular time tonight."

I hang up without saying goodbye and giving him a chance to talk me out of it, because by the part of the conversation I had just heard between him and Cillian, he was all in favor of me going out.

"Why'd you do that?" Cillian’s voice is low, disbelieving, and a bit hard.

"Because... you don't control me or my life. If that's what you're looking for, let me off this crazy train right now."

He levels me with a stare that would make some women cry, but I hold firm. Then his eyes soften and he sighs. "Fine. At least come listen to some music at the park and I'll have you to The Hibernian in time for your shift."

"Okay," I tell him with a tentative smile. "See, that's not so bad, is it?"

"I fucking hate it, but I guess I'll live with it."

To ease his pain, I step in and kiss him, lightly my running tongue over his lip rings. The kiss deepens quickly but then, all too soon, he's pulling back.

"Come on," he says, smiling at me. "Let's get out of here before I'm tempted to bend you over that table."

There...now that is how he can still control me. My body would probably do anything he asked of it... and he knows it.