Unmarked: Sean's Story (Chosen #4) (5 page)

BOOK: Unmarked: Sean's Story (Chosen #4)
10.91Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Chapter Seven

Sean

At that point, I knew something was weird between me and Aoife. There was sexual tension but neither one of us could give in. I had never felt so confused about my attraction to a woman. She struggled as much as I did to keep her eyes off of mine. Finally one of the shits we were sitting with noticed and called me out on it.

“Seany boy! Is this your girl?” I didn’t even look at whoever said it but fuck if he wasn’t drunk already.

I stared into Aoife’s eyes and her whole face went ten shades of pink. Her little freckles popped out on her nose and I inwardly cursed at my blatant stare. Before I had a chance to answer, her small voice became the only sound in the whole pub. It cut through the music, the chatter, and she was my only focus.

“So, boys. What’s the difference between an Irish wedding and a funeral?” Her eyes became mischievous as one of the guys planted a shot glass in front of her. She whirled around to see who it was, looked a little worse for the wear, and then shrugged her shoulders at it before downing it. She was hard core on the inside.  And no, this wasn’t just liquid courage that made me think that. Her ferocity was palpable. It just took a bit of comfort to coax her out of her shell.

“You stumped me,” I grunted out as I took a pull off my beer.

“One less drunk.” She slapped the table and the guys around her chuckled.

I didn’t. I think I would have if I didn’t see that slight wince when she delivered the punch line.

One. Less. Drunk.

“What? You didn’t like my joke?” she half purred and half moaned at me. Oh hell, I had seen
this
kind of girl plenty of times. Whiny and in need of a good spanking. Did I look like I wanted to control a woman? No, if anyone got their digs in me – Lizzie –
I
was the whiny bitch.

“Don’t do that,” I admonished her. “Don’t cry over spilled milk. I just thought your joke was a little…let’s say, honest.”

When I gave her my pointed look that said I just called her on her shit, you could practically see the way her petals retracted and she wilted into herself. I put my hand over her cold one that still lay on the table next to the empty shot glass.

“Let me take you home now,” I soothed. I was talking to a little girl who needed a bit of guidance and a whole lot of nice. When she nodded, I didn’t miss the small tear that left her eye and fell down into her ear.

I led Aoife away from the drunken idiots that claimed I was going to score and out to the fresh air of Southie. A cab went by right as we walked out and I muttered “fuck” before I looked up and down the street for another one.

“Sorry,” Aoife lightly said. She could have been a little fairy in the way she shied away from me one minute and then a heavy stone of reality in the way she got to me in less time that anyone ever had.

“You are forgiven,” I smiled at her with my shined up face. It was the face that I made when I wanted a girl to think she was charming. I didn’t ever have to fake the shine smile with Lizzie. And there she is again interrupting my thoughts.

Fuck. Me. Lousy.

“You have a nice smile, Sean,” Aoife commented. I nodded at her as I ran to the curb to hail down the cabbie I saw flying down the road. It swerved a couple of times, obviously seeing me a little late, and it managed to slip right in between two cars and nearly take Aoife out by the legs.

“Dude, what the fuck?” I yelled through the window. Aoife put her arm on my shoulder and warmly smiled at me with a small tinge of drunken adoration.

“Thanks for the taxi, Sean,” she started for the door. I opened it for her and scoffed.

“Yeah – I got
us
a cab.” I pointed my finger in between her and me. She tried to keep a straight face but her looks she was throwing my way said exactly what she had said the moment I walked up to her at the party.

This girl wanted to get naked with me. Did I want a hook up? I was so damn tired of thinking about Lizzie. Aoife and I had already kissed and it just happened so it wasn’t like there was some hurdle I had to jump through. All I needed was one move.

One.

Slow.

Move.

My leg rubbed against her tiny one as I put my hand on her inner upper thigh. She was hot and I felt her jump a little at the contact.

“Baby? What is your address?” I asked her nonchalantly, giving her a sidelong glance.

Her stammered Irish accent was fucking delightful and I imagined those little grunt noises being heard throughout her bedroom as we rocked together. I didn’t even hear her address because the thought of this tiny girl riding me was enough to give me a hard on. I never got a boner just from thinking about a girl.

I put my mouth up to her ear and she lowered her head to the side so I wouldn’t tickle her. Another instinctual reaction to touch. No one had ever put their mouth near her ear? Was it the first time? There were so many times, throughout movies or just to keep Niall sleeping, that Lizzie and I would duck our mouths close to each other’s ears. No flinch, no reaction. Just normal.

Aoife made the small gesture intimate and special. Why?

“Can I stay at your place tonight? It is a little late for me to head back to Newburyport,” I said into her and made sure to stay for one more inhale and exhale so Aoife could feel the motion of my breath, the truth of my intention, and the hope that she would say yes.

“Okay.”

We rode in silence – again. This time it was a little more uncomfortable for me since my dick didn’t want to mellow out a bit. I could feel her fidget as I kept my hand planted on her inner thigh. When we got to the apartment house off of Mass Ave, I paid the cabbie, grabbed Aoife’s hand, and helped her out. She was definitely intoxicated but definitely not fucked up beyond belief. Give me an hour and she would be screaming my name.

“How long have ya been in love with Lizzie?” Aoife asked.

Gone was the image of her rocking me. Gone was my uncomfortable dick position. Gone was my hope that for one God damn, mother fucking night I didn’t have to think, talk, or fucking dream about the one woman who crushed my hope for true love.

I shrugged and looked up at the apartment. “Is this it?” I asked nodding at the stairs to the door.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, well,” I started to scratch the back of my head and looked around the area for another cabbie to take me to Lizzie’s house so I could grab my car. “I think I am just going to…” I started.

Like lightning, Aoife grabbed me and kissed me with fire and ferocity. It was
impossible
to not respond. It was the definition of a starved kiss. She tongued my mouth so hard and furious that I almost couldn’t keep up. It was fucking hot as hell and I wanted more. Just as I started to take some control, she ended the heated make out session with a pop and moved back from me with a pleading look.

“I know I'm not your type. I'm not Lizzie or blonde or tall with legs that go on forever with perfect titties.” She waved her hand around herself in a circle. “I don’t have the proper tight ass or waist. I haven’t got any piercings or that tattoo on my lower back that girls get. I don't have fancy knickers. In fact, you’ll probably think my knickers are granny pants. For once, just
once
, I wish someone would want
me
.” She pointed at her very generous chest she spoke so poorly about. “Someone to give
me
some attention because I bloody, fucking need it.  I'm so alone, Sean. No worse – I’m so lonely all the time.”

I didn’t have words. Belly piercing and granny what? Did she mean a tramp stamp?

“If ya need it, find a pillow or a paper bag,” she overdramatically laughed out. Her somber words to follow ended her proposition as I stood there dumbstruck.

“I don’t mind at this point. I just need…” Aoife’s eyes that looked to the ground conveyed more than any word possibly could.

What? This girl? Did she mean…? Holy shit. I couldn’t help but guttural laugh at Aoife. It was loud and bark-like. Well, I didn’t laugh AT her, – no, I most definitely did – and that inexcusable feedback turned out to be “the shit move” of the evening.

I felt her retreat into herself and I grabbed her arm.

“No.” My demand was almost as startling to me as it was to her. I chilled my tone down. “Listen, I don’t care that you wear granny panties or you don’t have a back tat. I understand the need to be felt – just like you.”

I started to walk towards her and took her keys to the apartment out of her hand very gently. I rubbed and soothed the back of her neck as I veered her towards her front door. I felt her tremble next to me and wondered why on Earth she thought I was so damn special. No one is above anyone else. We are all just people. And yet, Aoife – she wasn’t just a person. She was a fearful and timid creature that would cower to save her life. She knew how to hide it all – emotions, her self-esteem, and, most importantly, her body.  She had to have learned how to hide in the past. I had no clue, but in that moment, I demanded to know everything about her.

“My room is the door on the left and the bathroom is on the right,” she said.

“Okay. Where is the couch?” I asked, looking around at an empty room. There were clothes in a pile and one laundry basket but she didn’t have a microwave, a table, and as I continued into the living area – there was just nothing.

“Oh, yeah.  I’ve only been here three days. So not sure it’s worth it to get all that shit, you know,” she explained, worrying her lip with her teeth.

I stepped around her even though I wanted to take my thumb and flick that lip of hers so she would stop worrying so much about what I thought. I could see as I went into her bedroom that she was trying to pick up the clothes to put them someplace else. Looking in on the bedroom, there was one twin bed on the floor with one sheet and one blanket, a pillow, and a ragged looking bunny of some sort. Fucking Velveteen Rabbit made its appearance tonight. Of course she still slept with a stuffed animal.

I sat down on the mattress and beside the fact that it was inches off the floor and I would probably have to roll to get off of it – it was actually pretty comfortable. I toed off my Converse sneakers and laid down on my side to wait for her. I heard a door close and I sat up. Did she just leave? This night has been the most friggin’, weirdest night of my entire life. I made Aoife uncomfortable which sort of made me uncomfortable but when she wasn’t in my line of sight or even paying attention to me, I got this gut sick feeling like I was… missing her? I could I miss someone I didn’t even know?

I shook my head of everything absolutely distorted rolling around in my head and laid back down. If she left, she had to come back. I would just close my eyes and wait.

Chapter Eight

Aoife

Sean was probably the hottest man I had ever seen in my life. I wanted him and I didn’t actually want men for… you know…sex. I looked in the mirror, and took a deep breath, trying to get my heart to stop racing. I hugged my stomach where the most discomfort was and tried to calm my breathing some more.

Seriously, did I just tell him he could put a fucking bag over my head? Jesus Christ. Who does that for any man? I bet he's fucking amazing in bed. He
has
to be. I really want to find out just how brilliant but he loves Lizzie and that's grand, I suppose. I don't want love from him or from anyone. I just want to feel.

Protected.

Owned.

Safe.

I want to feel the things I've bottled up for so long now, but for some reason he brings them out in me. Why? He's here, so he'll either fuck me or not. But, he's here in this shitty bare assed apartment with me.

Tattoos. He has tattoos everywhere. I really want to see all of them. Oh, and he has the
sexiest
face. He has those “come fuck me” eyes and the fullest, fattest lips I've ever seen on a man. I am not sure that's legal or even fair to women. He smiles and for love of all things holy, his smile could make the shittiest of days seem that much better. I know I'd wait in line for hours or days even just to catch a glimpse of that smile

I looked at my temporary cell phone and saw that Freddie had rang. I sent him a quick message that I got home safe and I would see him on Monday in the office. And that was the other thing, I hadn’t thought about Freddie. Or the job he could provide for me and my family back home once tonight. I didn’t think about home at all and that made me feel like shite. I needed to ring home tomorrow. I wanted to hear his voice and even though America was a great experience and a good way to make more money for us – I was homesick already. We had a routine back home. I knew, for the most part, what we did every day. Could I be without my family for this many months? Suddenly, I heard my da’s voice running through my head and I was glad to be away just for a little bit.

“Get yourself a good man, that'll work hard and look after us,” Da always said.

I laughed at the thought of Sean bringing home money to my da and no – Sean wouldn’t do that for my da. Not in a million, trillion years. Would he do it for me? I opened the bathroom door and stepped out to the hall that led to the bedroom.

Chapter Nine

Sean

My cell phone started ringing and woke me up with a sudden jerk. I needed to change that fucking ringer. What was I thinking when I changed it to Ride the Lightning by Metallica? I, even, thought it was too early for head banging drums.

I smelled her cinnamon buttery scent first. My arms were asleep as I cracked open one eye, I saw a pillow of brown curls stretched over my right arm. Aoife’s little snores were adorable. Again. That word. Cute? No, Aoife was adorable. From her little stance to her small Irish voice to her fragile little snores. She was the epitome of someone I wanted to protect, to hug, and to keep warm in the wintertime.

Yeah, that thought just made me sit straight up in bed. Her head of curls fell to one side as I tried to flick out my dead arm. I knew that when the blood came back in, it was going to be one bitching minute of pain. I started to rub out my arm and felt the moment that she turned to look at my back. There is this one spot right below your ribs that itches and you can never get to it. Her eyes had zeroed in on that part of my back which made sense because that was where the tattoo of a broken heart melting into the letters spelling “AGONY” was. I jumped a little when I felt small fingers outline the heart and then the scripted letters.

“I love this one,” Aoife admitted, slightly despondently.

“Yeah?” I coughed and cleared my throat. I felt the blood start to enter my hands and I looked over my shoulder. I couldn’t see the tattoo, of course. I don’t know why I still tried to look at my back tattoos. Yes, they were there. No, I wouldn’t ever be able to look at them without a mirror.

“It’s for Lizzie yeah?” she questioned softly.

Burn.

It had been at least four minutes and Lizzie hadn’t come to mind. Now she was front and center. I grabbed my tee-shirt off the floor and threw it over my head.

“Probably,” I answered.  I didn’t want to think about Lizzie. I did the obligatory bi annual party last night, I gave her some hugs, and then I got a little drunk with a cute Irish girl. Everyone told me I was a fucking idiot for getting that tattoo but I had to have something to remind me of where I was from. I was from Lizzie. She breathed life into me when everything looked dull and gray. The colors that sizzled all around when I was with her made life exciting again. I had to stop this madness. I was in another woman’s bed.

I squeezed my eyes shut and recollected my time with Aoife after she came out of that damn bathroom the night before. I swear she had been in there for an hour. She had been skittish at first. She stood at the bedroom door and I had felt her eyes on me lying in her bed. I opened them slowly and a slow smile crossed my face at her apprehension.

“Do you want me to sleep on the floor, adorable Irish girl?” I had asked her. Her cheeks reddened and I chuckled as I rolled on to my back and stretched. I looked over my shoulder at her to see that she was checking out the part of my tee that was riding up my abdomen.

“Yes?”

“Huh?” Her eyes popped up to mine and I smiled – a genuine smile this time. It felt real. I noticed that her light bulbs had a yellow tint to them and she had a picture of a green field in a frame on the window pane. Her shirt was falling off her shoulders, exposing brown and beautiful round freckles. That shoulder was fucking gorgeous.

“No, we can share, yeah?” she asked. The hope was evident and thank fuck for that because I wanted to feel another body under me.

I sat up and took off my shirt – awesome style – because I can be awesome around the ladies. Well, if it isn’t Lizzie. She just makes me feel like a nobody. Aoife’s stare was magnetic and she studied and dissected every tat on my torso and my arms. I think it took a good few minutes before she slowly walked to the bed and took off her jeans.

“Do you sleep nude?” I asked, quite aware that she was being more brazen with taking off her pants.

She shook her head slowly. “Top and knickers only.”

“How about I go with just my briefs on? Sound good?” I peered into Aoife’s eyes. I would
not
take advantage of her. She wasn’t a one night fuck and that was the thing I had struggled with all fucking night long. One moment, I wanted to get under her skin and bliss out there. Another moment, I wanted to ask her all about her life and maybe punch her arm as a buddy. But this – this game of “what will you take off for bed?” was arousing, comfortable, and real.

I pulled off my jeans and we both got under the covers. Because it was a twin bed, we had to lie sideways in order to fit. Arms were awkward at first. I moved mine to her side. She placed hers in front of her in a pretzel fashion. I pushed my pelvis up to her back. She stayed still on the outside, all organs inside in a frenzy of carnival rides. It was living. It was fear and boundaries and want. No needing something or someone – just being as two bodies in a twin bed in an empty apartment.

“Fuck it,” I said. I wrapped my arm around her waist and snuggled my face into her cinnamon butter hair that smelled foreign. She was a special woman. This cuddle was different from any other I had ever felt. I knew it when her complete body relaxed back into mine and I could feel her body level out with her thoughts.

I fell asleep pretty quickly. I can’t speak for Aoife but if she didn’t, she was as comfortable as a warm down comforter. I never wanted to wake up.

But I did and then she put Lizzie on the brain and I thought about my next move. I wouldn’t be a douche bag but I wasn’t up for talking about love or jealousy. I was up for that cuddle. I looked over to the light bulbs. They looked drab. I looked at her picture. It wasn’t a very good one and it looked old.

“You going? Yeah?” Aoife asked.

I didn’t fucking know. Was I leaving? I think I was but then thinking about being in bed with her was right, too. It made me rethink everything I normally did with women the next morning, if it ever went that far. I turned around in the bed.

“You have to promise me something, if we are going to be friends, Aoife,” I demanded by looking into her eyes to reiterate my desperate request.

“Anything,” she whispered.

“You will stop talking about Lizzie in front of me. She and I are old friends. She is married and happily. I will not hurt anyone by the way I have felt. They are my own feelings to deal with, not yours. Are we clear?”

She nodded her head as she let out a ragged breath. I think she wanted me to say that. It was like she was obligated to bring it up so that she knew I wasn’t emotionally available. The hell of it was I had wanted to be emotionally available for so long and no one had cared about that piece of me. They could take my body, my jokes, my talent, my attention. No one ever wanted my feelings. In that moment, I was beyond positive that if she and I continued to see each other, she might one day own that part of me.

“Okay, but I want to clear something up as well,” she started. Confident Aoife was back as she smiled brightly at me and then down to my shirt, covering my colorful chest of art.

I lifted an eyebrow and smirked at her. “Yes?” I drew out the word in a rugged and husky voice.

“Well, two things, really.” She pointed at one finger. “If we are alone behind closed doors, you aren’t allowed to wear a shirt…like ever.”

Her eyebrow lifted and I chuckled as I tore the shirt back off.

“And number two?” I prompted.

“You have to kiss me now.” Her voice was small again and it was the most beautiful thing I had ever heard another person say.

I fully leaned over and took her jaw into my hands. “Don’t” on one hand’s knuckles took her right side of her face and “Quit” on the left knuckles took her left side. Her eyes poured something into my hands and it radiated up through my arms to my throat. I couldn’t swallow as I watched her lick her lips before I gently pressed mine against hers.

She took the back of my neck and forced me into her mouth. A sensual play. A sexy turn of tongues flicking and licking within our mouths and her jaw staying strong and there for me to be a part of for however long I wanted. Fuck me, it was a kiss.

That was what I did the first morning I spent with Aoife Flanagan.

Other books

The Jigsaw Man by Paul Britton
My Name Is Evil by R.L. Stine
The Fire of Ares by Michael Ford
The Long Green Shore by John Hepworth
Mice by Gordon Reece
Mr. 365 by Clampett, Ruth
Rivulet by Magee, Jamie
Tequila Nights by Melissa Jane