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Authors: Jennifer Dunne

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BOOK: Sticks and Stone
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Bending down, he lifted her into his arms. She wrapped
her arms around his neck and snuggled against his chest.

“We’ll spend the rest of the night in your bed,” he told
her, getting a sleepy mumble in response. “But first, we need a shower.”

Chapter
Seven

 

Eileen drifted slowly to wakefulness, nestled in
Dermot’s warm embrace. Listening to his slow and even breathing, she relished
the peace and comfort of simply lying beside him.

Soon, that was not enough. Turning onto her hip, she
propped her head on her fist so that she could study him at her leisure.

Even in sleep, his face held the strength and
determination she admired. Lightly, she traced her fingertip over his arching
brows, along his jawline, and across his dangerous lips, rendered temporarily
safe by sleep. His lips parted slightly, releasing a tiny sigh.

She slid her finger along the open seam of his lips,
pressing lightly, until he pulled her finger into his mouth. He sucked gently,
sparking a heat deep within her as her body remembered how he’d suckled and
feasted upon her flesh in the back of the limousine.

She smiled. Her first limousine
ride,
and she remembered nothing about it except the feel of Dermot’s hands and mouth
as he’d brought her to one shuddering, shaking climax after another.

She tugged her finger free, earning a soft protest from
her sleeping lover. His head turned, trying to recapture his prize.

“Hush, now. Be still,” she whispered, stroking his thick
hair until he subsided.

Her exploration continued. She glided her palm over the
smooth planes of his back, down his spine, to his trim hips. As she caressed
his ass, still slightly swollen from the beating she’d given him, he moaned
softly in his sleep. His cock twitched to life.

Eileen watched, entranced, as it slowly lengthened and
straightened, like an inflating balloon. By the circle, the man was insatiable!
She’d thought the number of times they’d made love in her cottage was a side
effect of the dryad’s spell, but this voracious sexual hunger seemed to be his
natural state.

She heard his breathing shift. A moment later he opened
his eyes.


Mmm
.
This is a nice way
to wake up.”

“I know.” She brushed his lips with a feather-light
kiss.

He moved closer, sandwiching his warm cock between their
stomachs and pressing her breasts against his chest. His hand cupped her ass,
holding her hips tight to his, while his mouth captured hers in another kiss.

He groaned as he released her. “I would like nothing
better than to make love to you all day. But we have to get ready for the
Silver Moon meeting.”

“What is it we’re to be discussing? My agent never gave
me specifics.”

“Oh, publicity plans, how to position you, what
your
talking points are,
those
sorts of things. Mostly it’s for the publicist to see what level of media
coverage you can handle.”

His hand drifted lazily up and down her hip. She pressed
her body against his and hugged him tightly, needing the reassurance of his
solidity. That was his world, the world of media coverage and publicists, of
celebrities and limousines. She didn’t belong in that world. She belonged in
her woods, writing her books and following the cycle of nature.

“Do we have to go?” she whispered.

“What is it? You’re shivering.” He held her close and
rubbed her back. “Are you cold? Or scared?”

“Why am I here, Dermot?”

He hesitated,
then
answered
slowly, “Are you wondering or am I supposed to guess?”

“Tell me. Why did you send for me? What is it you see in
me that made you go to so much trouble to bring me here?”

He sighed deeply. “Well, you did save my life.”

“Is it because you’re grateful, then?”

“Of course not.
I mean, yes, I’m
grateful, but my gratitude is usually expressed in a check with a healthy
number of zeroes. It’s something more with you.”

“Great sex,” she muttered.

“God, yes!
It is.”

She stiffened, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“We’re great together. I shouldn’t have to tell you
that, not after last night. It’s a good thing this is the penthouse, or my
neighbors would have called the cops, the way you were screaming. And what you
did to me with that branch…” He groaned, a shudder rippling through him. “God,
that was good.”

Eileen swallowed against the lump in her throat, and
blinked her burning eyes. That was it, then. She knew the secret of how he
liked his sex. He wanted his ass whipped, so he wanted her. It had nothing to
do with who she was as a person.

Dermot continued, oblivious to the devastation his words
had caused.

“And, of course, you’re intelligent, beautiful, and
highly successful. You have an adorable accent.”

“I
donna
!” She clapped one hand
over her mouth, but the treacherous brogue had already escaped.

He just laughed. “See?”

His mirth faded, and his voice softened, as if he was
thinking out loud rather than speaking to her.

“But I think, even with all that, I would have let you
stay in Ireland if I hadn’t read your book.”

She blinked. “You read one of my books?
Which one?”

“The latest.
I wanted to
understand the Irish witch who had beguiled me. The dryad nearly killed me, but
before that, the sex with her was better than I’d thought possible. Throughout
history, men have gone mad trying to recapture the embrace of a faerie lover,
even though they knew it meant their deaths. Yet I barely thought about her. It
was the night and morning afterward that I couldn’t get out of my head.
You.
I had to figure out why.”

Eileen stared at him with rapt fascination. “Why?” she
breathed.

“Your book gave me the clue. You talked about the
potential for human purity. That’s you.”

She thought of all her doubts and disbeliefs. “I don’t
feel very pure.”

“Oh, but you are! It shines from you, like a light that
can’t be seen, only felt in the heart. It makes me want to be a better person,
to be the kind of man who would deserve you.”

She couldn’t breathe. Her lungs labored in deep,
shuddering gasps, but her throat was too tight for the air to pass.

“Eileen?” He pushed her away to see her face. “Are you
crying?”

“No. And a proper gentleman would know better than to
ask a lady such a question.” She spoiled her indignation with a wet sniff.

Dermot smiled, and curled her close to his chest.
“Whatever you say.”

He continued stroking and caressing her, molding her
body gently to his, until her breathing steadied and she relaxed against him.

Turning her head slightly, she swept her tongue across
his flat nipple. He sucked in a sharp breath, so she did it again, this time
cupping and caressing his ass at the same time.

“Keep that up, and this conversation will be over in a
few seconds,” he warned.

“Didn’t I tell you it was a weakness for a finely turned
phrase I had? And you, you’ve kissed the Blarney Stone for certain.”

He chuckled. “Well, then, it’s time I stopped talking.
Your turn.
Why did you accept my offer to come to America?
Was it only for the publicity tour?”

She heard the fear underlying his forced good cheer, and
hurried to reassure him.

“No.
Nor for your wealth.
Truth
be told, that was why I threw your card away. I couldn’t imagine you in my
world, and knew I could never fit in yours.”

“But you changed your mind.”

“Aye.
I realized I knew
no such thing. I believed it.
As if I’d seen a rainbow, and
believed it rained.”

He frowned. “But it does have to rain before you see the
rainbow.”

“Did you never see a rainbow over a waterfall?”

“Oh…”

“Aye.
I misjudged you.
And it’s sorry I am to have done so.” She pressed another kiss to his chest.
“What do I see in you? Ask why
am I
here, and get the
same answer to both. You did not give up. Not when the dryad tried to claim
your life, not when I needed to help you in my cottage, and not when you chose
to pursue me. You see clearly, Dermot Stone, more clearly than most
who
do not walk the path, and you walk your own path guided
by what you see.”

She blew out a disgusted sigh. “So many of the people I
meet are searching, for what, they don’t know. But it’s me they want to find
it. It’s me they want to tell them the truth that should be hidden in their own
hearts. Not you, though. You know. And like the stone that is your namesake,
there’s none alive who can move you once your feet are set.”

He brushed his hand through her hair,
then
tilted her face up so that he could meet her gaze.

“You see all that in me?” he whispered.

“Aye.”

His lips closed over hers. They continued speaking, no
longer needing recourse to words. Instead, their kiss expanded and deepened,
until they breathed each other’s souls.

Slowly, with no sense of urgency, Dermot rolled her onto
her back and slid inside her. She held his cock sheathed deep within her, not
moving, just kissing him, while time stretched and distorted and billowed
around them. They hung suspended, supported by their fused breaths, in a moment
that transcended time.

The blood pulsed in her groin. Dermot’s cock twitched.

Time snapped back in a howling rush, reclaiming them to
the ordinary world. Her hands roamed across his back, stroking and petting and
clawing, while his heavy cock slicked in and out of her wet vagina. He grunted,
thrusting hard and fast, and she slapped his ass, urging him on. And still they
devoured each other with their mouths, teeth and tongues tangling and striking.

She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. She could only
feel, Dermot hard and hot and pounding inside her.

Then he burst, flooding her with his fire, scorching the
tender flesh he’d loved so thoroughly the night before. She broke apart,
shattering into a million pieces, each a mirror to the glowing flame of his
love, until she was engulfed in a brilliant inferno without end.

* * * * *

Eileen had no time to think about the coming meeting as
she hurriedly showered and dressed in her book-signing outfit of a long gray
wool skirt, white blouse, and gray velvet shawl. As soon as she was ready,
Dermot called for his limousine.

He glanced at his watch. “Barring traffic, we’ll make
it.”

“Isn’t traffic usually a problem in Manhattan?”

He grinned as he escorted her to the elevator. “Compared
to what you’re used to, I’m sure it would be. My driver can handle it.”

The driver and limo were waiting for them in the circle
outside the apartment building. A new and younger doorman held open the
limousine’s door for them. As she entered the passenger compartment with Dermot
right behind her, Eileen was assailed by the aroma of freshly brewed coffee.

As soon as they’d taken their seats and the doorman
sealed them inside, Dermot pressed the intercom button.
“The
Silver Moon offices.
For a nine o’clock meeting.”

“Yes, sir!”

Dermot released the button and reached for one of the
brushed steel coffee cups engraved with the Stone Industries logo, only to be
flung backward into the seat as the limousine shot out of the circle and into
the street.

He righted himself, and grabbed a bagel from the bag
beside the coffees instead. “I’ll wait until a traffic light to try drinking
anything. Would you like a bagel? We have plain, sesame, cinnamon raisin, and
blueberry.”

She rested her hand on her stomach, which chose that
moment to gurgle. “Yes, please.
Blueberry.”

She tore into the bagel, surprised at how suddenly
ravenous she was.

He smiled indulgently, more interested in watching her
than in eating his own bagel. “Built up quite an appetite last night, did you?”

“What with all the time zone changes, I missed a meal
along the way.”

“Would you like another bagel?”

She pressed her palm to her stomach, which was now
churning. “No, thank you. That wouldn’t be a very good idea right now.”

The limousine stopped at a light, and Dermot quickly
swallowed half a cup of coffee. She added cream and sugar to hers, so only had
time for a single sip before the car lurched into motion again.

The driver continued darting the big car in and out of
traffic in a manner that did nothing to soothe her nerves. Dermot held her
hand, offering her silent encouragement.

BOOK: Sticks and Stone
2.67Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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