“But more than any of that, I know that if I don’t kiss you right now, I’m positive my entire body will explode.” Without a doubt in his mind, he knew he had to have her right then. They had kissed several times before, even tonight. But he needed something different: He needed to tell her how he felt in a single act. And that terrified him.
He didn’t want to just kiss her; he wanted to possess her, to overtake every part of her with his lips and let her taste his words, know how true they were. She swayed slightly, her body quivering gently at his words. He steadied her with one hand, grabbing her waist and sliding his hand around her back with his other. He pulled her flush against him, his head leaning down only inches from her lips.
“Clare?” His voice was deep and husky, but a whisper.
She opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came out. She stared at his lips before licking her own in anticipation. The sight almost undid him right then and there. He wanted to devour every inch of her in the middle of this New York sidewalk.
But he waited. He held back, tensing his entire body in an attempt to restrain himself. He needed her to want this just as much as he did. He needed to know she felt the same way.
“I need you to tell me what you want, Clare.” Her eyes flickered up to meet his, and he could tell he had surprised her with his request.
“Rory…” She shuddered out his name in a breathy tone.
“Yes, mhuirnín?”
“Kiss me.” She kept her eyes on his, not faltering or even blinking as they stared at each other.
He didn’t waste a moment finding her lips with his, crashing down on her fiercely. Her hands slid up around his neck, wrapping herself around him and leaning up on the tips of her toes to meet him. His hand on her lower back was pulling her fervently against him, while the other was on the back of her neck, guiding her.
After a few moments, he disconnected their bodies before finally pulling away from her mouth. She blinked a few times and then peered up at him, a shy smile on her swollen lips. He would never get tired of that smile.
“So, Clare, are we still acquaintances?” he asked, his arms still around her, her lips an enticing inch or two from his.
“God, you’re so arrogant.” She rolled her eyes at him, but a smirk stole its way onto her lips.
He leaned down and buried his face in her neck, kissing her skin gently at first, then nipping it playfully. He breathed in, causing her skin to dimple into goosebumps as she giggled and pushed him away.
“Ah, vanilla.”
“You’re sniffing me now?” She began to cross the street, nudging him.
“I’m an overstepping acquaintance. I have no boundaries.” He grabbed her hand again and sniffed her loudly in an exaggerated motion, causing more laughter to erupt from her tiny frame.
“I loved watching you tonight,” she told him.
“Good. I wasn’t really at my best, though. I wish you’d seen me on a different night when I’d practiced more. I’m only just getting back into everything.” He downplayed his performance, feeling self-conscious.
“Seriously? I thought you were amazing.”
“Not even close. I was a mess.”
“Stop being such a girl,” she huffed, causing him to turn and glare at her.
“Excuse me?” No one he knew had the courage to say something like that to him. Ballsy.
“You heard me.” She stuck her chin out defiantly, but he caught a glimmer of nerves pass through her before she tightened her jaw and stood by her statement.
“Clare, I spent five years on the circuit as one of the top-ten fighters in the nation. They called me Knockout Kavanagh. I think I know what I’m talking about when I say that tonight wasn’t great.”
“Nope, you don’t. You’d say that no matter what. It’s your attitude that is the problem, not your moves in the ring.”
“It’s a cage.”
“Whatever.” She waved him off, unfazed. “You were great tonight. I know it and everyone in there cheering for you knew it, too. But if you’re not going to believe in yourself, then why should anyone else?”
He opened his mouth to respond, but then closed it just as quickly. Only his parents ever called him out on a personal level like this, never a peer and most certainly never any woman he had been interested in.
“Plus, didn’t you just tell me that you were going to train me one-on-one? Since you’re the teacher to the best? What happened to that confidence?”
“Just because I’m one of the best doesn’t mean I’m at my best,” he corrected her, his voice icy.
“I don’t want to hear it.” She slid her hand out of his. “I’m so tired of the constant pity party you’re always throwing yourself. As if I can’t smell the alcohol on you. As if we all can’t, every single day. You have an amazing life—why would you not want to experience it?”
“Clare,” he interrupted, but she put up her hand to stop him.
“I’m not done.” Her hands were on her hips now as she glared at him, illuminated under a streetlamp. “You’ve got more money than you know what to do with. A job that isn’t really a job, letting you make your own schedule. And I’ve met your parents and your brothers—they’re wonderful. Do you know what I would do to have a family like that? Or a family at all?”
Guilt passed through him as he remembered her story of her deceased parents.
“Shit, Clare, tell me how you really feel,” he said and exhaled slowly, with sarcasm.
She stared at him, unrelenting. Worry etched her features and he felt an overwhelming urge to run and hide. Fuck, I’m an ungrateful jerk.
Here was this woman before him who had clearly been through hell in her own life and she was still stronger than he was. He had nothing to complain about and yet it’s all he ever did. Guilt dug at him as he raked his hands through his long, thick hair.
“I’m sorry, Rory. I just can’t stand to hear all that self-pity talk anymore.”
“Fair enough.”
“Plus, I’m only going to let the best of the best train me.” She smirked, lightening the tension that had descended between them as she sauntered down the sidewalk.
“I’m going to be your trainer, Clare,” he growled, not enjoying the image in his mind of another man’s hands on her, training her. The thought irked him as he slid his arm protectively across her shoulders.
“Then you better be the best. Otherwise, I’m going with someone else.” She fought back a smile, but he didn’t miss the twitch of her lips.
“Fuck, I’m the best, okay? Is that what you want to hear?” He loved the way she had just turned his own words against himself.
“You’re what? I didn’t hear you.”
“I’m the best fucking fighter at Legends and probably in New York. No, definitely in New York, maybe in the nation. So I, and only I,” he stressed, “will train you.”
“Well, if you insist,” she jested, and he snorted at her sarcasm as he squeezed her against him.
Within a few more blocks, they reached her apartment, and he unlocked the building’s front door for her as always, then handed her back her keys. She turned around in the doorway to study him, two steps down from her yet on eye level with her.
“Rory,” she paused, fiddling with her keys as he took the two steps up to close the gap between them.
“You want me to kiss you again, don’t you, mhuirnín?” She narrowed her eyes at him, her nostrils flaring, but he knew that he was right.
“Maybe you’re not just an acquaintance.”
“I need more than ‘maybe’ if you want me to kiss you, Clare.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead, surprising her.
“Maybe you could come inside for a few minutes and I could show you.” She spoke so softly, he almost hadn’t heard her.
His brows shot up in surprise at the invitation as he watched her shuffle her feet nervously, glancing up at him through long, thick lashes.
“Are you asking me to stay the night, Clare?” He leaned forw
ard slightly.
“Depends on what your answer is…” A small smile crept across her face as she kept her eyes trained on his.
“Fuck, yes.” Rory didn’t need her to ask him twice.
He stole her keys out of her hand and slid them into his pants pocket. With both hands free, he took hold of her and swept her up into his arms, cradling her against his chest.
“Rory!” she protested, stiffening at the unexpected contact. He ignored her as he continued moving quickly up the stairs to her apartment.
“What’s your apartment number?”
“It’s 3B,” she said, giving in, curling farther into his chest, with one hand hooked over his shoulder for support.
It didn’t take them long to reach her floor and turn down the hall toward her apartment. Her eyes were trained on him the entire time, nervously taking in the determination on his face. His eyes had darkened from their usual light silver, and the change caused butterflies to swirl through her body.
Chapter 8
Using his one free hand, Rory fished her keys out of his pocket and expertly unlocked her door, letting them inside. He swung the door shut behind them while his hands grabbed her hips and slid her down the front of his body, slowly, until her feet were on the floor.
Clare gulped nervously as she stared up at him, trying to calm her heart rate and slow her breathing, which had rocketed the moment his eyes bored into hers. It was damn near impossible with the dazzling, mischievous smile he was flashing at her. She could get lost in the dimples in his cheeks, the only boyish part of him. Everything else was rock-hard muscles, towering build, and rugged good looks. He had yet to touch her, but his eyes were doing something more intimate to her than she had ever experienced.
Suddenly, she realized that he was waiting for her. He wanted her to make the first move—just as he had done earlier, forcing her to tell him she wanted him to kiss her. She hadn’t thought it possible, but her heart rate increased more at the pressure of the moment.
She knew if she said yes right now, it would be the end of any denying what was happening between them. It would be officially erasing the line she had drawn between herself and everyone else in the world, the line she had drawn all around her. Was he right earlier? Was she trying to keep everyone out? She bit her lip at the thought, watching his silver eyes darken.
“Clare.” His voice thundered deeply in warning. She knew what he wanted her to say, but her throat was dry.
Her body hadn’t responded this way to anyone in as long as she could remember, not since she first dated Travis in high school. But even then, it wasn’t what she felt now. This was something entirely different. It didn’t stop at butterflies in her stomach; it entranced her entire body. Warmth crept through any part of her that was near him, which right now was every part of her. Her heart swelled just from looking at him; her skin shivered at the mere closeness of his.
She slowly reached one hand up between them and placed it on his chest, directly over his heart. She had done the same thing earlier to calm herself; it was as if he could talk to her through the beating in his chest, telling her things he couldn’t say out loud.
His heartbeat sped up under her palm and she bit her lip, slowly raising her eyes to meet his again. It was like an electric shock, bolting through her from the top of her head to the tip of her toes. His eyes undid her in a way she had never experienced before.
She quivered slightly, her balance faltering as she tried to get ahold of everything that was rushing through her. She felt she had been standing and staring at him for an eternity, when really only seconds had gone by. The truth was that her entire body felt as though it was on fire, and she wanted nothing more than to rip off every clothing barricade between them.
She didn’t want to be afraid of everything anymore.
She didn’t want to be acquaintances.
She wanted him.
And it terrified her.
“Rory, I don’t know if I can do this,” she whispered, as his hands moved from her hips and began pulling his jacket off her, dropping it in a puddle at her feet.
“What’s wrong?” He blinked in confusion, stepping back and frowning.
“Nothing…” She faltered, stammering, “I don’t know—uh, I’m not—you don’t want to do this with me, Rory. I’m a mess; you don’t want me.” She pushed off the door and crossed her arms over her waist, hugging herself.
“I don’t want you?” he asked, one brow raised as he stared at her. She nodded and held herself tighter.
“Damn, woman, you’re a fucking emotional roller coaster.”
Clare pouted at his exclamation, wondering if he was going to storm out now and realize that she was right.
She wasn’t worth the effort.
“Since leaving Legends, I think we have laughed, fought, kissed, argued, and everything in between.”
“I’m sorry, Rory. I’m not trying to be difficult. I just—” She frowned, and her eyes dropped to the floor. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m scared—it’s been a long time since I’ve done this. I just don’t think you know what you’re getting into. You won’t want this. You won’t want me.”
“Stop.” He was suddenly close to her again, his fingers under her chin, tilting it up toward him. “Don’t do that; don’t sell yourself short.” He kissed her on one corner of her lips, then moved to the other. “And don’t tell me I don’t want you.”
“Rory—” She squirmed, trying to push away the pulsing heat that had just shot through her at his kisses.
He interrupted her with his fingers on her lips, quieting her with the commanding look in his darkened eyes. His fingers moved down to her neck and shoulder, before lightly tracing their way down her arm and grabbing her hand. Her breathing hitched as his hand moved hers to the front of his pants and she felt the firm, powerful length beneath her fingertips.
“Mhuirnín, does it feel like I don’t want you?” His voice dropped further, a huskiness to it now as he pressed her hand harder against his length. She blinked at his words, opening her mouth to respond, but then saying nothing.
Sliding his free hand around her waist, he slipped it beneath her shirt and pressed it against her bare back. Her skin burned with desire and she licked her lips, unable to pull her eyes away from him. That was all the signal he needed before crushing his lips to hers.
Sagging into him, she let her hands move up his body, feeling every inch of him before settling them around his neck. He lifted her into his arms once more, his hands cupping her bottom as her legs wrapped around his waist. He carried her away from the front door and down the hallway, their lips still entangled as he let her point the way to the bedroom.
It was rough. It was passionate.
It was everything Rory Kavanagh was.
“Clare, tell me what you want,” he coaxed, sitting her on the edge of the bed as he kneeled in front of her.
She froze, blinking in confusion, and realized that no one had ever asked her that question. He was eye level with her, despite the fact that she was sitting on the edge of the bed and he was kneeling on the floor in front of her.
“I don’t know,” she admitted, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as his expression turned sad for a moment, before being replaced with a determination that frightened her in a good way.
“Will you let me try to find out?” His previous huskiness was replaced with softness as he swept a few stray pieces of hair behind her ear. She nodded nervously, unable to speak as she trembled in his arms.
He smiled warmly, the heat returning to his eyes as he began lifting her shirt over her head. She helped him shrug it off, leaving her before him in the lacy black bra. He kissed her again, gently, as he unhooked it behind her and pressed her tightly against him.
Her top half was now bare, the chill of the air causing her to shiver. The cold didn’t last long, though, as his mouth came down on her breast so quickly that the warmth spread straight down to her core.
She moaned and
threw her head back as she focused on the sensation and surprised herself with how badly she needed to touch him back. She ran her fingers through his dark brown, wavy hair as he continued to devour her.
He pulled a nipple in between his teeth, gently biting her and causing her to jolt in surprise. Clare gasped, tensing instantly as she realized that she had actually enjoyed that. Smirking naughtily, he raised his head and pressed his mouth against hers again, slipping his tongue between her lips as she greedily kissed him back.
With his hands on either side of her chest, he gently pushed her top half down, leaving her lying on the bed with her legs over the edge against his kneeling form. His hands hooked into the waistband of her jeans and pulled them off her in one quick motion, leaving Clare completely nude except for a pair of black lace panties.
“You’re so beautiful.” He pulled his shirt over his head with one hand. Her mouth ran dry as she took in his perfectly sculpted chest and abs, before he climbed over her and found a breast with his mouth once more.
She moaned in response, squirming beneath him and surprising herself as she realized that she was pressing her hips against him, the buildup within her demanding some release.
“Patience, mhuirnín,” he teased, releasing her breast with his mouth, only to instead travel down her stomach with soft kisses, nibbling her flesh gently. She felt the bed move as he slid off and back onto his knees in front of her.
She flushed with embarrassment at being so vulnerable in front of someone, immediately trying to cover herself with her hands. He growled in protest, grabbing her wrists and pinning them to either side of her instead.
“Rory, please,” she moaned, unsure of what she wanted. She wasn’t used to being on display like this.
“Trust me, mhuirnín,” he reminded her, kissing her lower abdomen.
She nodded, gulping down nerves as she tried to slow her breathing. She couldn’t ever remember a time when her body had responded this way to someone. It was as if she couldn’t stop herself from writhing beneath his gaze or pressing her body as close to him as possible. She wanted to run and hide, yet throw herself on him, all at the same time.