Sheer Luck (8 page)

I went to help Liam with his homework—I did
not miss third grade long division in the slightest—and when we
emerged from my office, she was curled up on the couch, reading
The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy
.

And fuck me dead. I fell the rest of the
way. It felt a lot like going splat on the pavement after
freefalling ten stories. If the sight of her reading one of my
favorite books didn’t do it, the way she was around Liam would
have.

She kept the conversation going during
dinner, encouraging my nephew with compliments and laughing at his
jokes. She was cool under pressure. The woman was kind, funny,
smart, sexy, and beautiful. Oh, and a good cook. The enchiladas
were a fucking mouth orgasm. A part of me always figured once she
lost her mysterious quality, once I really got to know her, the
allure would wear off. That didn’t happen. Not even a little. Lily
only got more interesting the longer I was in her orbit.

“Yeah, but she doesn’t like shrimp and her
feet are always cold.” So there. Flaws. She wasn’t perfect. I’d
discovered after sleeping together the past few nights, her feet
were in a perpetual state of arctic. Didn’t seem to matter how
thick her socks were or how many blankets we piled on the bed.
Hell. I didn’t mind. I found even that adorable.

I looked up to find Liam and Lily’s gaze on
me. Twin sets of confusion.

I sighed, realizing I’d said my thoughts
aloud. “Good cornbread, Lily.”

I really needed to start emotionally backing
off, but panic tore at my chest when the thought emerged. Only two
more days. It didn’t matter what my feelings were, I couldn’t keep
her. I would have to let her go. Why not enjoy the time we had
left? I’d deal with the fallout later.

Before I took Liam home, I dragged Lily off
to the side and gave her a quick kiss. “I’ll be back late.” I had
to stay until close to eleven when Aiden’s manager was good to
bartend alone after the rush. “Please be wearing the apron when I
get here.
Just the apron
.”

Her sly, knowing grin was answer enough.

Truth be told, I’d loved my nephew to the
moon and back from the first moment I set eyes on him in the
hospital. But I’d never had a night drag through eternity like
tonight. Worse was after Liam went to bed and I had to wait for
Aiden to get home. After solitaire and being unable to find decent
television programs, I texted Lily.

Me:
Whatcha wearing?

Lily:
I’m walking around the apartment
naked
.

Great. Now I was hard at my brother’s
house.

Me:
Groan. Where’s the apron?

Lily:
Can’t seem to find it. Wait. There
it is. I’m bending over now to get it...

Did I say hard? I meant granite.

Me:
Vixen.

Lily:
I’m now wearing the prerequisite
outfit aforementioned. Want a picture?

Sweet Christ. Even her vocabulary was
groan-worthy.

Me:
That’s not a legit question. Fuck,
yes.

I waited five minutes until she sent a
photo. I stared a good long beat before I busted out laughing. In
the shot, she was lying on my bed, dark hair spilling around her
head, and wearing a smile. The selfie only showed her face.

I broke a few laws getting home. And found
her curled up on her side on the foot of my bed, fast asleep. As
promised, she wore only the apron. She had her arms crossed over
her chest and her hair in her face. Sighing, I squatted in front of
her and brushed the strands away.

Christ, I came undone. She was so fucking
beautiful it hurt to look at her. Actually, physically hurt. Her
long, dark lashes fanned her cheeks. Red lips parted with deep,
even breaths. In slumber, she didn’t have the sometimes haunted
expression I’d seen, nor the good humor I’d been privileged to
witness, but she still tugged at my chest. My sweet, naughty little
angel.

Standing, I turned down the covers and
untied the apron. Careful not to disturb her, I lifted her in my
arms and set her properly on the bed. After switching off the
lights and getting undressed, I climbed in next to her and pulled
the blankets up. I barely rolled on my side to face her when she
instinctively curled into me, burying her face in my neck. She
stuck her cold feet between my calves, trapped her hands between
our chests, and wedged our thighs together.

That was us. A complicated knot.

She made a cute noise that sounded a lot
like a mew. “I fell asleep.”

The rasp of my whiskers scratched against
her cheek. I ran my hand down the length of her hair. “You don’t
sleep much. I disturbed you.”

Her lips grazed my throat before she tilted
her head to look at me. “Your voice is panty-melting. Low and
hoarse and come-hither...ish.”

I laughed. “Nice to know.”

“Good thing you have a hot body to go with
the voice. All ribbed abs and bulging biceps. The way your thighs
look in jeans makes me drool.”

I laughed again. Someone was feisty tonight.
Or she was so tired she didn’t know what she was saying. “I’m very
fond of your body and voice as well.” Understatement.

“You have gorgeous eyes. You know that?”

I’d heard it a thousand times, but coming
from her the compliment sounded different. “Like emeralds or
grass?” Those were the similes most used.

She hummed. “More like moss. Very
unique.”

If we were going with unique, her sometimes
sapphire, often cerulean, and on occasion twilight eyes won out.
“So are yours,
mo milis.
” I felt like shit for waking her.
Best I could tell, she got about four uninterrupted hours a night.
Why she didn’t sleep well still sent chills up my spine. I couldn’t
get the image of a younger, scared version of Lily out of my head.
How bad had her childhood in foster care been? Did she have anyone
in her life that served as family? It was none of my business, but
yet I couldn’t shake the need to know. I kissed her forehead. “Go
to sleep.”

Instead of listening to me, her gaze studied
my features, her expression unreadable. Usually she was a wide open
book. I hated these few instances when I couldn’t read her.

She cupped my jaw, brushing her thumb across
my chin. “My experiences weren’t bad. I wasn’t abused.” I had a
fraction of a second to be shocked she could read my mind, like
she’d crawled inside my head. “I went into the system with my
sister at age eight. My sister, Iris, was almost ten. Our parents
died in a car accident, and if we had other family to take us in,
they didn’t step up. I hardly remember them.” Her gaze wandered
off. “They tried to keep Iris and I together, but it was too hard.
We stayed in touch, though. In total, I was placed with three
families before I aged out. They were nice people. But none of them
felt like home, you know?”

I nodded, even though there was no way I
could ever understand what she’d been through. My family had
issues, but we loved each other. At least she had a sister.
“Lily...”

“Don’t feel sorry for me.”

My eyes slammed shut as I drew her to me,
pressing her face into my shoulder as I fought for control. “I...”
Hell. My voice cracked. I lowered my tone to a whisper to hide the
emotion. “I don’t feel sorry for you.”
I love you.
I
couldn’t say that without putting her in danger, though. I was
already walking a thin line. “I’m amazed at your strength.”

She didn’t say anything more, just rested
her cheek on my chest, right over my heart, and drifted back to
sleep, as if our talk had somehow comforted her.

Me? It was hours before I closed my
eyes.

M
y initial waking
thought was I wasn’t alone. Lily’s scent filled my nose first,
followed by the realization of the warmth of her soft skin against
me. We were spooning, her tucked close, my arm around her. The
gentle hum of her breathing had me opening my eyes.

Sunlight filtered through the blinds. She’d
stayed in bed the whole night? No restlessness, no rising for work?
I glanced at my alarm clock, noting it was nine. She was usually
gone by now.

I didn’t want to let her go, but I’d hate
for her to get in trouble at the library for being late. Burying my
face in her dark, silky hair, I breathed deep. I would never forget
her scent. An aphrodisiac and turn-on with one whiff. Splaying my
fingers over her belly, I whispered her name.

She stretched, pushing her ass right up
against my morning wood until I was cradled between her cheeks.
Reaching behind her, she wove her fingers through my hair. “I work
a half day today. Don’t have to be in until noon.”

The most ridiculous amount of happiness
filled my chest, closed my throat. I swept her hair away from her
neck and kissed the shamrock tattoo on her nape. “Best news I’ve
ever heard.”

Her laugh was sleep-roughened and made me
harder yet. Licking, kissing, and nipping my way down her neck, I
moved my hand to cup her breast. She moaned. I tweaked the nipple
between my thumb and forefinger. She arched. My erection became
painful, so I dipped my fingers between her folds to test her
readiness, and found her wet. She gasped and spread her legs for
me, and I was more than willing to fill her.

Yet the scent of her arousal hit me, and I
wanted to taste her. We’d always been so hungry for each other that
little foreplay had been involved. We’d had sex, we’d fucked, but
we’d never taken our time. And I was going to make up for that.

I rose over her and started with her mouth,
a slow, thorough kiss that had me desperate for air. I could come
from her kiss alone. Passionate, endearing, she toppled walls and
erected kingdoms with all the power she wielded.

Her body moved under mine, a sensual glide
that informed me she was just as lost. Her hands explored me—my
chest, my hips, my back, my ass—until fire licked my skin and my
heart thundered behind my ribs.

I kissed my way over her throat and to her
collarbone, looking up at her when I trailed lower. Her blue eyes
watched my descent, hooded and dark. Keeping my gaze on hers, I
sucked her nipple into my mouth. Hard. Panting, she dug her fingers
into my hair to hold me to her. Swirling my tongue, I eased the
ache away and moved to the other breast, giving it equal treatment.
She writhed beneath me, chest rising and falling rapidly.

“
Mo grá
likes that.” My love. I
didn’t hesitate to use the endearment because it wasn’t an outright
admission and she couldn’t translate anyway.

“Yes,” she breathed, arching into my
mouth.

I kissed down her belly, watching her lust
transition into slight apprehension. Hm. She wasn’t accustomed to
oral? She’d done just fine with my cock in her mouth in the bathtub
the other night. Had her previous lovers not been good to her?
Their mistake.

Hands on her inner thighs, I spread her legs
and blew gently on her wet folds. She sucked a quick breath, the
pulse in her neck pounding. I trailed my tongue up one thigh, down
the other, and was pretty sure she stopped breathing.

Watching her, I leaned in and sent a long
stroke from her opening to her clit. She tasted as good as she
smelled. Her eyes closed and she threw her head back as she reached
for my hair again, clenching the strands. I groaned, loving her
response.

Sliding my hands under her ass, I lifted her
to my mouth. I wove my tongue in and out of her, swirled around her
clit, and repeated the process. A strangled cry caught in her
throat and my hips jerked. I ground my cock against the sheets for
relief. Fuck, I ached. I could spend all day between her legs just
to elicit her reaction.

“Declan...”

Sweet Christ, my name on her lips. “What is
it,
mo grá?
More?” I inserted two fingers inside her,
curling them, while flicking my tongue rapidly over her swollen
clit.

She came, just like that. Clenched around
me, bowed off the bed, and nearly yanked my hair out by the root.
My hips pistoned faster against the bed, but it offered no relief.
I wanted inside her.

I eased her down slowly and, when her
trembling ceased and her eyes slowly opened, I kissed her like I
was fucking her mouth.

No way was I done. Rising to my knees, I
flipped her over onto her stomach and kissed her back, taking extra
time to bite her perfect ass. When I spread her legs again, she
gasped and looked at me over her shoulder.

“Ah,
mo grá,
I’m just getting
started.”

She whimpered and urged her hips back toward
me, silently telling me to take her.

Without warning, I pressed my face between
her thighs and sucked her swollen flesh. Her broken, pleasured cry
was cut off by the pillow when she pressed her face into it. She
white-knuckled the blankets and reared back, demanding more. I knew
she’d be sensitive from just having come, but I was moments from
blowing just watching her. Skin flushed and warm. Musky scent of
arousal mixing with her light perfume. Muscles taut, straining to
hold on.