Just thinking about it made the tears well up under my closed lids and I rubbed the back of my hand over my eyes to dispel them.
"Renner... are you okay?"
My eyes fly open and Cillian is standing before me, his backpack slung over his shoulder. Worry and concern are etched on his face. His hand reaches up and catches a stray tear that slides down my cheek.
Embarrassed he caught me in this vulnerable state, I turn my face away and mutter, "Sure. Yes. I'm fine."
"But you're crying," he points out.
"I'm hormonal... PMS and all that."
Taking my face with both of his hands, he forces my eyes to his. "Try again."
My gaze is unflinching when I tell him, "It's nothing I want to talk about. You remember what it's like not to want to talk about something, right?"
He drops his hands and takes a step back, shoving his hands in his pocket. "Fair enough. I just came out to tell you that something's come up and I have to go, so I won't be able to walk you home tonight."
"That's okay. I don't need you to walk me home anyway." That statement is absolutely true but why did I have a sinking feeling in my stomach when Cillian told me I was on my own for the evening walk home? Why would that even bother me when he holds nothing more than a passing interest...in his music, that is?
Okay, I'm lying. I've been thinking about him more and more the last few days, and apparently I had been looking forward to him walking me home tonight, otherwise I wouldn't be feeling disappointed that he's not. And that is just not something that is acceptable to me. I do not want to have feelings for him, or anyone for that matter. I'm still trying to sort out the bruised and battered feelings I have left from my fiasco with Cormac.
Bolstering myself and needing to say the words out loud so I accept them as true in my own mind, I harden my voice and say, "Cillian... let's just cut this farce off. I don't want you walking me home anymore and I don't want you trying to get to know me. I have absolutely no interest in you."
For good measure, I put on my most ferocious glare.
And what does the bastard do? He smirks at me.
Dropping his backpack to the ground, he steps forward. He then takes his hands and slaps them against the wall on either side of my head, caging me in. My body immediately goes still, keenly aware of how close he is. "Now that's just a fib, Renner. You have plenty of interest in me. Don't think I haven't noticed the way you've been staring at me the last few nights. I can see the interest in your eyes. I can read it in your body. In fact, I bet if I leaned in to kiss you right now, your eyes would glaze over just a bit and your lips would part open, ready for me to taste you. Shall I prove it?"
Somewhere in that crazy, sexy speech of his, my insides start squirming and my body flushes hot. I let my breath out slowly, so I wouldn't inadvertently moan over his words and give myself away.
God help me, but I want him to kiss me.
Instead, I whisper, "There's nothing to prove."
His gaze leaves my eyes and wanders down to my lips. His tongue flicks out over his lip rings, wetting them slightly. He doesn't look back up into my eyes when he growls, "Oh, there's something to prove, Ren. And I will."
The timber of his voice is hypnotic. The intent is carnal and possessive. It overwhelms my senses and causes my common sense to fade into nothingness.
My head is spinning and my troubles with Cormac are forgotten as he just stares at my mouth. I hold absolutely still, waiting for him to lean in further to kiss me.
But his head doesn't move. Instead, he moves in one step closer, bringing our bodies flush. The heat is searing and electric, and my knees almost buckle when I can feel his hardness against my belly. I've never had a man so overtly attracted to me before, and it makes me feel powerful and hungry to find out more.
Although our bodies are pressed together, he still just stares at my mouth. A tiny sigh escapes my lips and I breathlessly ask, "What are you waiting for?"
His breath is warm against my face and he smells of Guinness and mint. He drags his gaze up and his eyes are molten when they make contact with mine. "I'm waiting for you to fucking demand it of me. I don't want you to ask, and I sure as hell don't want you to beg. I want you to fucking demand that I kiss you."
Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.
No man has ever spoken that way to me and I'm dismayed that his words are a complete turn on. The proud, independent woman in me wants to be affronted, but the shaking mass of sexual nerves wants me to submit.
Then I do something that is totally against my nature. I decide to push good, old responsible Renner Caldwell into the closet--at least for tonight--because I really want to see where this goes. I want to know what I might have been missing. And I want to push Cormac all the way out of my thoughts.
I push my hips forward against him, taking feminine pride when he sucks in his breath from the contact. "Kiss me. Now."
There is no hesitation from Cillian. Just a low rumble of thanks in his chest and his mouth plows into mine. I feel the first, cold bite of his ring piercings digging into my lips, and the slight pain is erotic. He pushes my mouth open with his and his tongue slides in slowly, exploring my mouth. I can feel the ball of his piercing gently massage me, sometimes clacking against the inside of my teeth. Cillian's hands come off the wall and gently encircle my throat, his thumbs supporting my chin to hold me in place. I place my hands on his hips, just above his belt, and dig my fingers inside his waistband just a fraction.
He plunders and possesses my mouth. He makes it his own. I may have demanded he kiss me, but make no mistake, he's the one that's in charge right now. I find it thrilling and naughty, and it reminds me of the way I felt five years ago when I was a young girl on the verge of turning into a woman.
Cillia
n's kiss doesn't last long. It's hard and hot, and filled with the promise that he has only shown me a small part of what he has to offer. He pulls away, feathering a last, light kiss over my lips. I notice his rings are no longer cold but have been warmed by the friction of our mouths together. He then places a kiss on my forehead and my eyes flutter at the soft touch.
"I have to get going." His eyes are no less hot, and he's still hard as a rock pressed up against me. He looks frustrated to be leaving me and sighs as he steps away.
I just nod my head because I don't feel the need to say anything.
Besides, I'm afraid the power of speech will never measure up to the quality of the actions we just took.
CHAPTER 6
Cillian
Fuck, what a night.
I glance around at the drab waiting room and check my watch again.
3:32 a.m. and I'm still waiting on the doctor to update me.
I had left Renner just a few hours ago, her face flushed, her lips swollen, and my dick hard as a rock. But I couldn't follow through with anything more than that fucking fantastic kiss because something more important had come up.
Yes, something that shouldn't be more important but unfortunately in my fucked-up world, it was.
I had been having a great night at The Hibernian. I was composing some awesome music when I got a call from Maeve. I hesitated before answering, honestly not wanting to deal with her. I was having far too much fun watching Renner covertly trying to watch me.
Instead, I answered it and the nightmare began. She was drunk... I mean really drunk. She was rambling about how much she missed me, and that she wanted to give us another chance.
I cut her off and told her this had to stop. I knew when I said those words that she wouldn't even remember them the next day, and it frustrated me to no end. I decided to end the call and deal with her later--when she said something that made my heart sink.
"I just took a whole bottle of sleeping pills, Cillian."
"Tell me you're lyin', Maeve."
Please tell me you're lying.
She giggled, then with slurred words, she said, "Maybe I am, maybe I'm not. Only way to find out is to come see for yourself."