O’Toole’s is a box, a long rectangular room with a bar stretching against the far side. At the end is a small stage, elevated by two steps, which houses a microphone and all the trappings needed for karaoke. The walls are lined with photographs of castles and sprawling emerald landscapes. Ireland is my best guess. A large green, white and orange flag hangs on the opposite wall of the stage, flanked by red, white and blue. I’m glad O’Toole is representing both countries.
We're pressed together by bodies as we maneuver through the packed space. Some turn and stare, their eyes following us as we go. I’ve yet to let go of Faith’s hand and I’ve no plan to. Not until it’s forced, and even then I may go after it. She’s leading us to a table next to the bar and in front of the stage, a perfect place to watch her sing, something I did at the beach for the last two days. This time my view will be unhindered.
When she sits, I pull a chair next to hers, not allowing for any room between us. The length of her thigh presses into mine, the energy passing between us palpable, it’s intense and real.
Leaning in close, her breath whispers next to my cheek when she asks, “Do you want a beer?”
Somehow holding in the groan growling in my chest, I turn, our lips almost vibrating together. Damn this girl, she’s temptation personified. Maybe she’s the devil and I’m an angel cast into the fiery pits of hell to keep her company. It was apparent to me when my world stood still I’d go anywhere for her. Hell included.
Lifting her wrist to my mouth, I hover, letting my breath warm her skin before my tongue flicks the sensitive spot. When my lips seal around her pulse point, I suck until I hear her gasp. “That’s two out of seven. I’m going to spend the rest of the night finding them all, Faith. And before we’re through you’ll never feel more alive than when I have you in my mouth.”
“Fuck . . .” she whispers.
Her lips part and mine lift at the corner. “Exactly.”
For one second I question whether I pushed her too far. Precisely ten seconds later, a knowing smile is my answer. Faith’s warming up to the idea; it’s swimming around in her eyes and the way her breath hitches when I say it out loud. Check, please. It shouldn’t be too hard to convince her to bypass one Monday with Mick.
The waitress appears, taking our order and Faith’s attention, giving me the perfect opportunity to study the lines of her back and neck. Faith is lean, long limbs with a hint of strength running through trim muscles. Her hair is whipped up into a mound on top of her head. I prefer it down, ready for my hands. Without much thought, I pluck out the pins holding it together. After the second one, it falls in silk waves past her shoulders, ripples of chocolate velvet. My dick twitches in appreciation. Fuck this shit. I need to get her out of here and to a place where I have free rein to appreciate everything about her. My mind wanders when she turns, flicking her eyes to Mick for just a second before coming back to mine.
“I like it down,” I say, rolling a piece between my fingers. It’s the first time I’ve felt this perfect blend of velvet, so soft I could sleep on a bed of it for days.
Smoothing her hands down the length she says, “It must look horrible.”
“There isn’t a chance in hell anything on you looks horrible, Faith.” I’ve kept a section wrapped around and between my fingers, and her hand runs along mine as she combs out the length. I like the feel of her, slowly warming to my touch, leaning in versus away. Moving quickly, I hold her chin so our eyes meet. “Let’s go back to your place,” I ground out loud enough Mick looks my way.
Her smile hits me like a Ray Lewis tackle: swift and hard. God she’s beautiful. “Not this time, Cowboy. Mickey’s counting on me.”
The waitress arrives with our drinks and Faith’s attention is driven away once again. I can’t help but stare at the full curve of her lips, nature generously plumping both in equal measure. An almost inescapable compulsion to bite and suck her mouth becomes all-consuming, driving a need deep in my groin. I’m constantly half hard, ready to get fully there in a second when she gives the go ahead. With concentrated effort my eyes work over the short button of her nose and the flutter of her lashes when they close, lying on the soft cream of her upper cheek. Faith’s beautiful; not in the pre-packaged Barbie way I’m used to. She’s driven from the earth, clean and fresh, without a stitch of make-up on.
Normally I’m attracted to no expectations, no need to define tomorrow or anything between us. Shallow relationships suited me, my travel schedule leaving little time or inclination for more.
Faith’s different, and if our circumstances were too, I know we’d have a definition. In fact, I want one. For the life of me I can’t figure out why—I’ve spent two days trying to understand it. Tossing in my chips, I’m all in. It’s now or never. I won’t be back to this island if I lose, but if I win all bets are off. I’m done setting boundaries and rules for myself with women, physically taking, emotionally separating. If Faith will have me, I’d try for her. I’ll figure out a way to make this more than tonight.
My patience is running thin. I’m not interested in sharing her with Mick. I concentrate on my beer when he begins droning on about his grandson and college. I’m over it. I don’t even try to keep up with the conversation, fixed on her voice, the ring of her laugh and the hand that’s snaked its way to steady my bouncing knee.
“Anxious about something?” A slow smile spreads along her features. It warms her already spirited eyes, a bright twinkle burning in the corner. It’s in this moment I know I’ve got her. Thank dear baby Jesus for miracles.
Faith
A knowing warmth spreads slowly through my chest while looking at Kyle. His clear, beautiful eyes draw me in and hold tight. The fit of his body, pressing against mine, sparks against my skin. I’m not afraid of being with him. There’s no fear in tonight. I can’t fall in love that quickly. I won’t be devastated when he’s gone. The life we have together will be brief and honest. For once, there’s joy in the moment. To hell with the what-ifs and what-could-bes or if-onlys. I can have this time with him, just us: only tonight.
Before another thought formulates, Mickey interrupts, forcing Kyle to look away. His eyes are slow to move from mine, and the cool cock of his grin changes his face. He's always sexy, but damn, when he smiles he transforms from calculating hellion to the plain ol’ devil. A slow grin spreads across his face and I know that he knows. This isn’t the end of our night. Somewhere, somehow, this is meant to happen for both of us. It’s clear now, with my fingers so easily falling to rest on the thick muscle of his leg. The beat of my heart increases with the feel of him under me, and that’s just my hand. What will happen when it’s his body underfoot, mine slippery against his? A shiver rolls up my spine, long and drawn out, the hair at the nape of my neck standing on end when it reaches past my shoulders. Kyle under me, on me, in me, taking all of me.
I want to leave, but Mickey’s got him by the tail. I hear the fatherly tone of his voice, always looking out for me. He’ll never let Kyle get away without some kind of warning. It’s the end of the conversation and it has me worried.
“Sometimes fate takes over, my boy. One minute with the right girl and you’ll lose yourself and your mind. Just make sure you know it before you start playing around with someone’s heart. You hear me?”
“Got it . . .”
“Miiiiccckkkey,” I interrupt. “It’s time for our song.” I love him and his over-protective nature, but this is one night I don’t need him to interfere with. Leaning over the table I warn him in a low tone of my own, “Leave Kyle alone.”
A wink and a big smile are his answer. “Don’t worry, lovely. We're just getting to know each other. Isn’t that right, my boy?”