His Wicked Celtic Kiss (19 page)

Julie punched him lightly in the chest. The hobbits were having a tearful farewell on the shore. “This is so sad, and besides, I heard it was like this in the book.”

Lorcan laughed and hugged her closer. “Only teasing, darlin'. I know it's like the ending in the book.”

“Did you read them?” Julie asked as Frodo and Gandalf climbed aboard the ship.

“Aye, I did. At sixteen I became determined to get through them. I found it slow going and a lot of it is tedious, but I have to admit that this is the best rendering I've ever seen. Bloody fantastic. I'll have to get this set for myself.”

Annie Lennox's haunting voice filled the room as the credits rolled. Julie sniffed. “This song gets me every time.”

Lorcan sat back and listened. He'd never heard it before. He pulled Julie closer. Memories flooded his brain, memories he fought hard to keep away from his conscious during the daylight hours. He closed his eyes. All he could see were butchered bodies. Drima's twisted corpse lying in the street among the carnage.
Not now. Not here.
He moaned. Julie sat up straight and cupped his face, turning him towards her.

“What is it, Lorcan? Please, look at me.”

He did, and thankfully the images disappeared. All he could see was Julie's worried face. She smoothed a lock of hair off his forehead. Sweat had popped out at his hairline. She must've felt it, for she reached for a tissue and gently wiped his brow.

“I'm all right,” he managed to croak.

Julie kissed his cheeks, working her way down to his lips. The kisses were so tender and soothing he nearly wept from her comforting touch. Instead, he pulled her tight into his embrace and kissed her hard. He needed to feel alive. Bleedin' hell, he need to ...
feel
. He plunged his tongue deep, tasting every inch of her warm lush mouth. “I need you, Julie.”

She pulled away from him and sat up, slowly pulling her sweater over her head. Julie stood and stepped out of her slacks. Sitting next to him clad in nothing but her blue lace bra and matching panties, she caressed his cheek. “Then have me.”

He gathered Julie into his arms and headed toward her bedroom. The DVD still played, the music following them as they reached the room. He laid her gently on the bed and undressed. No frantic pulling of clothes, no buttons flying in all directions. He would take his time.

Lorcan lay down next to her and propped up on his elbow. After removing her bra, he traced her pebbled nipple with the tip of his finger. He had thought he preferred women with small, perky breasts, as he had seen all sizes in his many encounters. Not by a long shot. He clasped her breast between his hands. So much to caress. He squeezed gently, rolling the dusky, brown nipple between his fingers. Julie writhed and moaned with each stroke. So responsive. So luscious. He leaned down and took her nipple in his mouth and sucked,
Never get enough.
With the breast still firm in his mouth, he moved his hand down her lush body and his fingers spread over her quivering, rounded stomach to the paradise that beckoned.

Julie immediately spread her legs in invitation. With a deep thrust, he plunged two fingers into her warm wetness and pumped as his thumb rolled across her hardened nub. Julie urged him on, grasping his wrist and pulling him in deeper, riding his hand with wild abandon.

Jaysus, she was a fine instrument, a cello perhaps, and he played her strings to a rousing crescendo. Julie's climax came fast and hard. Her inner muscles clutched him tight. He moved to lie on top of her, nestled between her cradled hips. His erection lay in her warmth, caressing her folds. He smoothed the matted hair from her face, and then he cupped her cheeks in his familiar way. She breathed hard, her cheeks flushed.

“What is it?” she asked softly.

His face must have been hiding nothing for once. “You are so beautiful.”

Julie squirmed, turning her head away. “Stop … ”

Lorcan turned her head to look at him. “No, Julie. I won't stop. You are so beautiful to me. Never doubt it. Never.”

The feelings roaring through him were inexpressible. He didn't want to fall for her. He really didn't. Not because he didn't find her attractive or enjoy their time together. It would be so easy to let himself go.
To feel. To love.

But he couldn't. He was empty inside. Forever changed. He could never love. He knew it to the marrow of his bones. If he were any kind of man he'd end this and spare her the heartache to come. But he needed this, lying in her embrace. He needed her warmth cloaking him in a protective shield of contentment.

Lorcan gave her as much as he was able to give, more than he had given anyone in years. Julie had been the first woman who had managed to stick her foot in the door to his black soul, letting in ribbons of warm light. He didn't deserve her, but he couldn't bring himself to kick the door shut. Not yet. Just a month or two more of basking in her comforting glow, and then he would move on. He wouldn't subject her to his demons. He positioned himself at her entrance. She spread her legs apart further in welcome, still holding his gaze. “Beautiful, outside.” He kissed her lips tenderly. “And inside … ” He pushed into her slick heat, Julie arched off the bed. “This is where I want to be, buried deep, just like this,” he whispered.

He thrust with a little more force, but achingly slow. He captured her mouth, his tongue matching the plunge of his hips. He wasn't wearing a condom. He knew he should stop, but he couldn't. It felt so damned good. He didn't know how much time passed. Julie had already climaxed twice. His insides rolled as the painful pressure in his balls built. With a ragged, husky groan he pulled out, shuddering and pumping his release on her stomach.

He rolled over on his back and reached for the box of tissues by her bed. With slow and soothing strokes he wiped away his semen. Tossing the tissue in the nearby wastebasket, Julie curled up into his arms.

So much time had passed, the sun had set. The room dimmed with the semi-darkness and the outside flush of amber from streetlights was the only illumination.

“Stay, Lorcan. Stay the night. Please.”

He shook his head, running his hand over the arm she had draped across his chest. “I'm sorry. No. It's not you. Believe me.”

She snuggled closer. “Then I almost hate to bring this up. But I mentioned you to my parents. Anyway, they wanted me to invite you for Thanksgiving dinner next month. It would mean an overnight trip to Philadelphia, but I promise you'll have your own room. I don't want to explain to my parents about the intricacies of our relationship, and I doubt you do either. It's okay if you'd rather not. But my mother does cook a hell of a turkey dinner.”

With a separate room, he wouldn't have to worry about Julie witnessing his night terrors. Her parents. A holiday meal. Which brought the specter of Christmas on the horizon. Meeting someone's parents was a damned bloody big step. Was it one he wished to take?

“Does it mean a lot to you, that I be there?”

Julie swirled her fingertip around his nipple, then ran it through the hair on his chest. “It would be nice. I'm bringing a friend, that's all they need to know. We
are
friends.”

“Most definitely. Good, good friends.” He lightly slapped her bottom and she squealed in delight.

“It's only one night anyway and the bonus is you'll get a great meal. Fourth Thursday in November. We'll be back Friday night. Philly's a little over two and a half hour's drive.”

Well, why the bloody hell not? He never had a home-cooked Thanksgiving meal before. “Fair play. Thanksgiving with mummy and daddy it is.”

Julie hugged him tight. “Thank you!”

She rolled over to move out of bed, but Lorcan reached out and clasped her arm.

“Where are you going, darlin'? I thought we might try one of your little games you've been talking about. I thought I would try a little naughty Irish slang on you.”

Julie smiled, reached in her bedside drawer and tossed a condom package onto his stomach. “Good. Behind. Hard and fast. Now.”

Twenty minutes later, he kneeled behind her thrusting hard, leaning over her back so his mouth lay near her ear. He whispered naughty Irish slang. Julie groaned and laughed sexily in response. Lorcan's thrusts increased, and he found himself joining her in the laughter. He'd never had so much fun in bed. Her laughter soon turned into ragged moans as she climaxed. God, he was so close. He loved this position; its wild, feral nature appealed to him. Feckin' fantastic, utterly brilliant, and when he moaned his release, he made a mental note to add dirty Irish slang to their repertoire.

They both flopped on the bed, still laughing. Julie hugged him close. “That was fun. I loved it.”

He smiled. It
was
fun.

Lorcan pulled off the condom and lay on top of her. Julie instinctively spread her legs so he would be cradled tight once again. His heart pounded, banging against his rib cage. He wondered as he caressed her face, holding it as he loved to do, if it was the wild sex that made his heart race. He'd had this feeling many times with her and not just after a toss in the sheets. The sensations rolling through him were more than the physical, much, much more. Yet, he kept his distance emotionally. He wanted to be with her every day, but he didn't call or come near until Sunday. He was a right prat. No, it was worse than that. He was a bloody coward.

So afraid to care for anyone. Julie, most of all. This darling, passionate woman let him be, didn't pry, gave everything of herself and did not complain when he held back. He stroked her cheek and he looked at her intently. She was the most beautiful woman he'd ever known.

His emotions must have been playing across his face, for she whispered, “What is it, Lorcan?”

He kissed her nose. “Admiring the view,
a stóirín.
”

She moved aside a lock of hair that had fallen across his brow. The effect had hardened his cock, his heart thumping faster. “What does that mean
, a stóirín
? You've called me that before.”

“It means, my darlin' or my treasure.”

Julie smiled and handed him another condom. He rolled it on his rock-hard prick. Along with the passionate kiss he gave her, he slipped into her with no effort at all.

Perfect fit. In all ways.

The autumn day was a bright and sunny one. Lorcan had to admit he enjoyed the countryside as they drove. The golden kaleidoscope of auburn red and bright yellow leaves made for portrait perfect scenery. A sudden gust of wind caught a few amber leaves and they fluttered to the ground. They fell at a faster rate as the month drew to a close. Lorcan and Julie were heading north on the I-95 toward Philadelphia. The end of November had arrived quicker than Lorcan would have guessed.

They stopped at a rest area and sat on a picnic table while soaking in the autumn sun. He glanced at Julie. Squinting at the brightness, she smiled at him. Time was winding down. He wondered how hard it would be to leave her. Lorcan clasped her hand tight and walked back toward his car. Leaving was something he did not want to contemplate today.

An hour later, they turned into the paved circular driveway of a large Cape Cod house in the Northwest section of Philly. The home was immaculately situated, and an American flag fluttered and snapped in the breeze from a flag pole situated on the side of the house. The residence had a gray brick and siding exterior with well trimmed gardens and shrubs framing the property. A Lexus sat in front of a two-car garage. They were well off, and yet Julie had lived in a shite flat with second-hand furniture? And now in the back of a bakery?

He walked to the front door, and was immediately greeted warmly by an older middle-aged couple. Julie's father grabbed his hand and pumped it enthusiastically, saying to call him “Charlie,” not Mr. Denison. The smiling man asked him if he knew about American football. Lorcan replied no, Charlie immediately slung his arm around Lorcan's shoulders. He had the look of a kind man, and his thinning salt-and-pepper hair and slight paunch showed he must be well into his fifties.

“Then you are in for a treat. Nothing goes together like turkey and NFL football. When Julie told me you were from Ireland, I bought Kilkenny as she suggested. Let's go to my den. I have a big screen HDTV and you can see every bead of sweat!”

Lorcan found himself steered away from Julie. He looked back feeling uncertain, yet she waved at him with a huge smile on her face.

• • •

Julie followed her mother into the kitchen. The turkey was roasting and the smell was divine.

Julie opened the oven door and peeked in. “Mom, it's huge. There are only four of us, you know.”

Her mother smiled. “You can take leftovers home with you. I know how much you love turkey sandwiches.”

Julie sighed. She did. Or she had at any rate. At past Thanksgivings, she'd made sandwiches with loads of turkey, squishy white Wonder Bread and lots of Miracle Whip. She opened a drawer, reached for a carrot peeler, and joined her mother in the prep work for the vegetables. “I've should've have brought one of my cakes for dessert.”

“Not for Thanksgiving, it's pumpkin pie or nothing. But I'm so glad that's working out for you.”

Julie glanced up and gave her mother a warm smile. “Thanks, Mom. It really is.” Her parents were so supportive. They had agreed to lend her money to buy into the bakery. The family lawyer was in the process of drawing up an agreement satisfactory to all parties.

“So ... Lorcan Byrne. Julie, he is stunning. Like he walked out of one of those men's fashion magazines. Quite good looking.”

“Mom!” Julie laughed.

“I'm not dead, dear. I can admire male beauty when I see it. So, is it serious between you?”

Julie continued to peel the carrots. How to answer this? She didn't want to go into a long explanation about the various, complicated layers of her relationship with Lorcan, sexual or otherwise. “No. I don't think so,” Julie replied flatly, peeling the carrots with a little more vigor.