Irish Sex Fairy

Chapter Eight

Her mouth fell open, and the soft bottom lip invited him to kiss and nibble. He leaned toward her. Stopped.

“You had PTSD? When?”

“When I came back from Afghanistan.”

“Really.”

She sank back down onto the stool. Again they sat there just looking at each other, a connection drawing them together like an invisible cord. Keara broke the eye contact to gulp some wine.

“So maybe I can help,” he said softly.

“Maeve says I need sex.”

Shane choked. “Oh. Well. I guess that’s not surprising. Maeve thinks everyone needs sex.”

“True. She was citing the many health benefits of sex to me, including some hormones that will make me feel better. It’s good for stress, apparently. And sleep.”

“Ah.” He considered that. “There may be some truth to that.”

“I’m sure there is,” she agreed. “But…” Her voice trailed off and she rubbed her finger over the drops of moisture on the outside of the glass.

“You know, now that you mention it, that’s a damn fine idea.” Shane sat up straighter, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “And since I did just offer to help…”

Her hand stilled and her mouth fell open.

“Just to…you know…make you feel better,” he finished.

“Thanks,” she croaked. “That’s good of you. But not necessary.”

“It could be worth a shot,” he persisted, shifting just close enough to inhale the floral scent of her hair. She smelled like the flowers growing up the wall just outside the French doors. Jasmine? Honeysuckle? Whatever. It was warm. Feminine. Damn.

“I thought you were annoyed at me. For not visiting Maeve.”

“Well, yeah. But I’ve always liked helping people—hence the job—so I’d consider it a sort of…public service.”

“Thanks. You have no idea how turned-on that makes me.”

The dry tone of her voice gave him pause. She had a point there. Shit, everything he said around her came out wrong.

“Well, it’s not that it would be a hardship,” he tried to backtrack.

“More flattery to go to my head.”

He laughed. And Keara smiled. A genuine, wide smile that sparked her eyes and turned her face…stunning. Attraction pulled him toward her, the urge to touch her almost overwhelming.

Joe McKinnny approached them to ask Shane what to do about his neighbor’s barking dog and Shane talked to him with as much patience as he could dig up, but wanted to growl when Keara stood and excused herself with a smile.

It was an hour before Shane could find his way to her side again, after talking with other guests, helping his mom serve dessert and finding a minute when Keara wasn’t occupied in conversation. What had started as a crazy joke had lodged itself in his mind, and his dick, apparently, which had been half hard ever since they’d talked about having sex, and he wanted to pursue that possibility.

Keara had been talking to Darlene from across the street for quite some time, and her eyes had begun to glaze over.

“Darlene, you’re looking stunning tonight,” Shane said, moving between them. “You’ve lost weight haven’t you?”

Darlene smiled with delight. “Yes, I have.”

“Would you excuse us? There’s something I need to show Keara.”

He took Keara’s arm and led her away from Darlene. Keara also murmured an “excuse me” to the woman.

“Was she telling you about her hysterectomy?” he said in her ear, steering her through the crowd to French doors leading out onto the patio.

Keara snorted a laugh. “Yes, as a matter of fact she was. That was apparently quite the tumor they removed. Benign, luckily.”

“Mmm. She loves to talk about her health. I thought I’d rescue you.”

“Thank you, I guess.”

They stepped out onto the patio, paved with attractive honey-colored stones and surrounded by curved beds bursting with flowers. The sun had set, leaving the sky the intense sapphire blue of dusk. A cool breeze drifted over them along with the scent of the jasmine flowers growing up the wall of the house.

“So where were we?” Shane said. “I think we were interrupted as we were about to leave and go to my place.”

“We were?” She eyed him, clutching her empty wineglass. That was no good. She needed a refill. “I don’t recall that.”

“I recall you saying that you needed to have sex.”

She sputtered. “I didn’t say that! Maeve is the one saying that. And it’s only a theory.”

“Ah. Right. But one worth checking out, don’t you think?”

The sound of the party was muted outside here, and crickets chirruped somewhere behind them.

“Shane.” She stared at him. “This is not a good idea.”

He met her eyes. “Why not? I think she could be right.”

She sighed and his eyes were drawn to the way her breasts rose and fell beneath the black blouse she wore. “I don’t even know where to start. There are about a million reasons.”

He shifted close enough to feel the warmth of her body, close enough to see that she did indeed still have faint freckles on her small nose, close enough to see the tiny flecks of lighter green in her emerald eyes.

“So? What are they?”

She moved away from him. “Well, first of all we’re not teenagers anymore. Second, I’m not looking for any kind of relationship. Third, my aunt is friends with your parents. Fourth, uh…”

“See, there aren’t a million reasons.” He smiled and breathed in her sweet scent again. “True, we’re not teenagers anymore. I see that as a plus. And no one said anything about a relationship, so don’t panic about that. We’re just talking about sex here. We both know how good it was. Aren’t you curious to know if it still is?” He stroked a hand from her shoulder down over her bare arm to her wrist, his fingers resting on the warm pulse point. She shivered.

He was doing pretty good. She seemed to be softening—her eyes warming and her smile widening. She shook her head.

“And as far as Maeve and my parents being friends—another thing that has nothing to do with us having sex.” He bent his head and stroked his fingers back up to her inner elbow, her skin as soft as the petunia petals in the basket beside them.

“I have to go now. I’ll just go say goodnight to your parents.”

And she walked away.

Damn.

Keara moved up beside Maeve and flashed an apologetic smile at the man she was talking to.

“Oh, Keara, there you are! I want to introduce you to Glen. Glen, this is my great niece, Keara. Keara, Glen O’Donnell.”

Her aunt’s…uh…friend.

“So nice to meet you.” Keara extended her hand for a warm handshake. Glen appeared to be about her aunt’s age, with thick white hair and a ruddy face, lines crinkling up around his eyes as he smiled warmly at her.

“I’m glad to meet you too,” he said. “Maeve has told me so much about you. You’re right, Maeve, she is beautiful.”

Keara’s cheeks warmed. “Thank you. Uh…Maeve, I’m ready to go home now.”

“Already!” Maeve glanced at her watch. “It’s early!”

“I’m a little tired.”

“Oh…” Clearly Maeve did not want to leave and Keara felt bad at dragging her away from her friend. “Well…you could take my car, and I’m sure I could get a ride home later.” She shot a glance at Glen who nodded. Keara felt her stomach clench at the thought of returning to the apartment alone.

“I’ll take her home.” Shane’s voice, deep and husky, spoke from behind her. She whirled around.

“Oh no, that’s okay…”

“Thank you, Shane! What a dear boy you are.”

He grinned. Keara opened her mouth to protest, but Maeve continued. “You should go say goodnight and thank you to Fiona and Declan before you go, Keara.”

Keara resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Of course she was going to thank her host and hostess before she left. She just didn’t want to leave with Shane.

His flirting earlier had thrown her off balance. What had he been doing? Trying to humiliate her? There was no way he was attracted to her after the barely hidden contempt he’d shown her every time they’d met. Which had now apparently changed to feeling sorry for her. Why, why had she blurted out that bit about Maeve thinking she needed sex?

She was so confused now, wondering what Shane really thought about her, wondering why she felt so mixed up inside, like she was attracted to him but afraid, reluctantly, surprisingly aroused—but nervous.

She allowed him to once again draw her away and lead her across the room. His parents sat in the living room, side by side, Declan’s arm around Fiona’s shoulders. Aw. Sweet.

“I’m taking Keara home,” Shane announced. “Say good-night.”

Keara shot him an exasperated glance. “Thank you so much for having me tonight, Mr. and Mrs. Dunstan. It was a lovely party, as usual. I always remember coming to your house and having so much fun.”

Friona stood and took both Keara’s hands in a warm, maternal gesture that made Keara’s heart go soft. “Thank you for coming,” she replied. “I’m so glad you’re here to visit Maeve.” She flicked her eyes toward Shane and then back, and Keara waited for some embarrassing question or comment. But none was forthcoming and Fiona just smiled. “I hope we’ll see you again while you’re here.”

Keara nodded, and after their farewells, she and Shane left through the front door. His car was parked on the street in front, beneath the orange glow of a street lamp.

“You’re leaving early,” Shane commented. “I hope not because of me.”

She studied him as he started the car. “What if I said it was?”

His eyes flicked sideways and he put the car in gear. “Then I’d feel bad. I didn’t mean to chase you away.”

She sighed. “You didn’t. I just find it exhausting being in a crowd like that right now.” And yet, she was afraid to be alone. Go figure.

“That’s not like you,” he said, and the fact that he remembered her, that they had a history together, warmed and softened her inside. “You used to love parties.”

“Yes.” She looked down at her hands clasped in her lap as light from a street lamp slid over them, faded to dark, then light again as they drove. “I did.”

“You will again.”

She sucked in her bottom lip to keep it from trembling. She wanted to believe that, but at times it seemed so hopeless that she would ever be the same again—fearless, independent, sociable.

Shane insisted on walking her inside, and she trembled as she unlocked the back door of the shop and disarmed the alarm, anticipating that he was going to try…something. A kiss, maybe. And when he saw her upstairs and said goodnight, then left—she was unreasonably, confusingly disappointed.

She wandered through the apartment, after having ensured the doors were all locked securely, turning on lights. She’d wanted to leave the party because she was exhausted, but now her body hummed with energy and a strange anticipation. She put a hand to the vague ache low in her belly and realized she was…aroused.

Dear lord. What was happening to her? Shane had gotten her all worked up. She washed her face in a trancelike state, changed into pajamas and crawled into her bed, drawing the covers up under her chin. She closed her eyes, but couldn’t ignore the liquid heat between her legs.

She slid a hand down over her stomach, under the elastic of the sleep shorts she wore, over her pubic curls. She cupped her pussy, holding it for a moment, feeling it pulsing against her fingers. She couldn’t believe she wanted this…wanted to touch herself like this. After the horror she’d experienced, sex had seemed so…trivial. So unimportant.

Her other hand slid up under her tank top and covered one breast. She squeezed gently. It felt good. She squeezed harder and a small moan leaked from her mouth. She parted her legs, let her fingers delve deeper into the folds there, and when she found slick wetness, she gasped.

Her tummy did a flip flop and images of Shane rushed into her head—his sparkling sapphire eyes, his deep dimples, his long, sexy fingers. His body had a perfect masculine shape—wide shoulders tapering to narrow hips, flat abdomen—and she pictured him without a shirt. She’d seem him shirtless, but that was thirteen years ago when he was still a boy. Now he was bigger, broader, more solid and she wanted to know what lay beneath the T-shirts he always wore.

She wanted to feel his long fingers on her body.

Her own fingers stroked, dragged wetness up to the bump that quivered and jumped when she touched it. Another flash of Shane, a young Shane with his face between her legs and his mouth on her pussy. She turned her head into the pillow, fingers of one hand rubbing her clit, fingers of the other pinching her sensitive nipple, tension coiling in her until she climaxed in a hard, shuddering orgasm.