Chapter 25: Fifth Avenue Fling: Chapter 25

I have no idea what my plan is. Just get out of here and process it later.

I need to get away from Killian with his cold dead heart, Maria with her long pins, and Mayor Perv, who probably has the power to have me deported.

A sob emanates from my throat.

I’m never opening my legs for a man again.

I hear commotion upstairs, and my stomach lurches. Just get out of the house.

I scoop up my phone and my bag. I can barely see through the fat, angry tears streaming down my face. There’s no time to change out of this dress.

Underwear. Toothbrush. Reading pen. I can’t think straight.

I’ll get Sam to pack up the rest of my things.

I’m headed for Queens.

I’m not fast enough. Even his footsteps sound angry.

I brace myself as the studio door crashes open.

“What the hell was that, Clodagh?” He stands in the doorway staring at me, looking as bewildered as he is infuriated. It looks like he pissed red wine all over his trousers.

My stomach twists further, and I forget I was justifiably standing up for myself because his wrath is downright petrifying.

Tears blur my vision as I choke back a sob. “You—” I try to get out.

He moves closer to me and tips my chin up. “Clodagh?” he asks more calmly.

I jerk my head away from his touch. “You don’t own me!” I spit out. “You’re not better than me.”

He rakes a hand through his hair, bewildered. “I know you’re a much better person than I am. But that still doesn’t explain why you decided to dump a bottle of wine on me in the middle of dinner. Or why you’re so upset.”

“I’m not your property to pass around, Killian!”

“What?”

“Your sleazy buddy, the mayor?” I push away from him, letting out an unattractive snort. “You told him I was his Irish present.”

“His Irish present…” he murmurs, frowning as if not understanding.

Something changes in the air as recognition flashes across his face.

“His Irish present is a bottle of Irish whiskey,” he says in a rough voice, rearing back to stare at me. “Christ, Clodagh. What kind of man do you think I am?”

“Yeah?” I shove my toiletries into my bag with force. “Well, that’s not what Mayor Perv said.”

He stiffens, every muscle going rigid. He doesn’t speak. His jaw slams shut and hardens.

“Did he touch you?” he asks in an almost too calm voice.

I jerk my head in a no. “I didn’t let him. I ran off.”

He nods. “Stay here,” he says in a low voice, his eyes locking with mine. “Don’t leave your studio until I come back.”

“I’m going to Queens.”

“Please, Clodagh. Please.”

He says it with the same air of authority I’m used to hearing in his voice. But his eyes are different this time. I see something I haven’t seen before.

Maybe fear?

Anxiety?

Pain?

“Fine,” I say quietly with a sigh.

I watch as he turns his back on me and strides out of the studio, slamming the door.

I exhale heavily and collapse onto the sofa.

What the hell is going to happen?

I can’t keep the door closed. I have to know what’s going on.

With shaky legs, I walk through the studio door and up the stairs, hovering out of sight on the top stair.

They’re still in the lounge. Their voices are hard to distinguish in the burst of noise. A male tells someone to calm down.

“Get the fuck out of my house.” It’s Killian. His voice isn’t raised; it’s cold as ice. “If you ever so much as lay eyes on any of my female staff again, I’ll kill you.”

“This is absurd. Your deal is dead in the water, Quinn. You’ll regret this!” The mayor storms out of the lounge area into the hallway, face twisted in rage and breathing hard.

I almost have to laugh as he rummages through all the coats, searching for his own, muttering relentlessly. “You forget who I am, you arrogant fuck.”

I crouch down on the stairs so I don’t have to see the cretin.

The hallway is a flurry of activity as people hurriedly put on their jackets, almost tripping over each other to make their way out.

Why is everyone leaving?

Everyone, of course, except for Maria, who stands with Killian in the hallway.

For a moment, neither of them speaks, unaware of me hiding on the stairs. Killian stands with his hands on his hips, facing away from me and staring at the ground.

Maria places a hand on his forearm. “Are you sure this maid is telling the truth, Killian?”

My gut clenches. I can’t bear to listen to them talk about me, so I inch back down the stairs and melt into the shadows, my mind racing. She doesn’t look like she’s going anywhere anytime soon.

I can’t stay. I’m not staying here while Killian sleeps with her. He might not have offered me on a platter to the mayor, but if he sleeps with another woman when I’m in the house, it’ll destroy me. I’d prefer to spend the night on a Central Park bench.

I want him. That’s the shitty thing. How can one person feel something so one-sided?

I let myself become too attached, and now I’m vulnerable. The ache in my heart spills out through tears as I race into my studio and collapse onto the couch. I would rather feel nothing than be riddled with this pain.

The knock on the door makes me flinch.

“I’m fine,” I shout, trying to sound as upbeat as possible. “Let’s talk tomorrow.”

Right now, I don’t care if he fires me.

Silence.

Just when I think he’s left, his deep, husky voice drifts through the door. “Please.”

“Go away.”

“I’ll wait out here all night if I have to.”

I wait for what feels like an eternity to figure out it’s an idle threat.

When I hear him still leaning against the door, I wipe my tears with my hand and move toward the door to open it.

Killian stands rigid in the doorway, his blue eyes blazing into mine. The lighting throws shades on his jawline, making him look equally beautiful and predatory.

His expression twists into concern as he takes in my blotchy face.

Please go away.

“I’m sorry,” I force out, maintaining a steady tone as I stand awkwardly by the table. “I didn’t mean to make you lose your deal.”

His frown deepens, as if my words have wounded him. He takes a purposeful step closer. “I don’t care about the damn casino, Clodagh.”

“You’re not the one that should be sorry,” he continues quietly. “I should never have put you in that situation. I swear, Clodagh, if I thought that would happen, I would never have invited the fucker into my home.”

I try to swallow the massive lump in my throat. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not fucking fine. I promised to keep you safe, and I didn’t. I’m so damn sorry, Clodagh.”

“Look, I just want to go to Queens, alright?”

He watches me for a long moment in silence.

Then his face darkens, and he nods, almost dejectedly. “You don’t feel safe here. I should have protected you. I failed you.”

He looks so devastated that I almost feel sorry for him. Almost.

I grab my backpack and give him a faint smile. “It’s not the mayor. I’ve had my share of sleazy guys before. I just need some time out, okay?”

“It’s me. You want to get away from me.”

I sling my backpack over my shoulder and grip it tight for support.

Can’t he leave it?

“I can’t stay here while you sleep with Maria.” My voice breaks on her name. I study my feet because I can’t bear to look at Killian. “I know there’s nothing between us, but I can’t shut off my emotions like you can. I figured that out tonight.”

He makes an ugly sound that sounds like a laugh.

The callous bastard actually fucking laughs at me.

“Can you just fuck off, Killian?” I say in a sob, glowering at him through my tear-filled eyes.

“Wait.” His arm shoots up, and I am jarred back against his warm body. He stares into my eyes and slowly slides my backpack off my shoulder. His arm tightens around my waist, making it impossible for me to escape. My head barely reaches his chin.

I go rigid as the warmth of his body and the smell of him surround me.

My heart starts pounding in my chest. My face flushes hot, and I hate his effect on me.

He’s not playing fair.

“Maria’s not here,” he says gruffly. “She’s gone. She was never going to stay. I took her out for lunch yesterday and told her things would only remain friendly between us.” His warm breath blows against my forehead as he heaves a sigh. “Even I’m not that big of a bastard, despite what you think of me.”

“Yeah? She didn’t look like she got the memo,” I snap.

“I’m sorry.” His strong hands grip my lower back, holding me flush against him. “I’m sorry you thought there was something between Maria and me. I’ve taken her to lunch a few times, but that’s it. There’s no connection. You are the only person I saw in the room tonight.” He almost seems frustrated with himself for his feelings toward me. “You’re the only person I notice in any room these days. You consume my thoughts more than I care to admit.”

“Why is that such a bad thing?”

“I can’t give you what you need.” He caresses my cheek with a sadness in his eyes that makes me want to scream why? Why not? “You deserve more.”

Instead, I muster a weak smile like it’s no big deal. “I know, Killian. You’ve been upfront about that. You don’t want anything serious with me.”

His expression turns grim. “It’s not that cut-and-dry. I’m not a good guy for you.”

“You don’t commit.”

“I can’t commit. There’s a difference,” he counters, as if it justifies everything.

His face clouds over. I want to ask him what he means, but I’m afraid he’ll close down.

And right now, he wants me. He hardens against me as I run my hands down his chest. His breathing is ragged, and his nipples harden as my fingers trace over them.

I get on my tiptoes, so his hardening cock is closer to my core, and I can run my hands through his hair.

I want him to fuck away my pain. I want him to fuck away my tears.

Even if only for tonight.

“I didn’t come here to fuck you.” He groans against my forehead, his expression clouding with what I think is regret. “I came here to make sure you’re okay.”

“Then make me feel good,” I murmur, angling his head down so our lips almost touch.

He groans again, then grips the back of my hair and drags my mouth to his. I open wide, my tongue pushing hungrily against his.

His stomach muscles jerk as I push my hand down his abs and into his underwear. I need to feel all of him. Now.

Holy shit, he’s fully erect. His thick, heavy cock strains in his trousers, jerking against my touch, and I love how affected he is by me.

I curl my hand around him possessively; the sensation sending shivers through my body. I’m aching for him to destroy me, to rip me to pieces.

“Wait, Clodagh,” he says as I fumble with the buttons of his trousers. His voice is coarse, thick with need. “Fuck. This is all about you, not me.”

He slowly unbuttons his shirt while I stand there, panting and desperate, with my hands gliding across his skin. The shirt joins the rest of the clothes on the nearby table as he grabs me with one arm and carries me into the bedroom.

“Let me show you how sorry I am about tonight, beautiful.”

Every atom of my body shivers in anticipation as he gently lays me down on the bed. My arousal is so strong I’m almost embarrassed.

I try to sit up, clumsily reaching for the top of his trousers. I need him naked.

“Not so fast,” he growls as he climbs onto the bed and grabs my wrists, trapping me in his embrace.

My hands slide over his toned chest as I impatiently squirm beneath him.

He gently inches my dress up above my waist and over my head, murmuring, “Sorry, baby,” when my hair gets caught in the fabric.

I suck in a deep breath. I can’t wait any longer. I’ve needed this since the night he left me standing with my dress bunched up around my waist.

“What the hell are these?”

I freeze at his surprised tone and follow his line of sight down to where the tummy control shapewear clings to me like a second skin.

Uh-oh.

“Don’t worry about those; they just help flatten everything out. Take ’em off.”

He slides them down my stomach, and his eyes widen when he sees how tight they are. “Clodagh, these aren’t good for you. You have red marks on your stomach.” He bends down to kiss my stomach softly. “I don’t know what you mean by ‘flattening out’, but I do know you don’t need it.”

I don’t know whether to swoon or die of mortification.

“Yeah, yeah,” I say awkwardly. “Can we get back to what we were doing?”

He chuckles quietly and unhooks my bra.

Now I’m completely exposed and his for the taking.

What are you waiting for?

I spread my legs, willing him to climb on top of me.

TAKE ME.

Killian has other ideas.

“This time will be slower,” he murmurs, talking to himself as much as me.

He gently spreads my legs, and his eyes roam over me from above with a look so predatory, tiny shivers erupt over my body.

He starts at my mouth, kissing me slow and deep, then travels down at a torturous pace. Down my neck and across my collarbone to my breasts. My nipples are so hard it hurts.

I moan out in pleasure and instinctively arch my back as he takes my nipple in his mouth. I grip the back of his neck, my fingers entwined in his thick locks of hair as he teases one breast and then the other with his tongue.

Then he’s on the move again, his beautiful mouth trailing kisses down my stomach, delivering chills across my skin until his stubble tickles above my clit.

“Wait, Killian.” I put my hand on his face before he can travel farther and clamp my legs against his shoulders. “There’s no point in doing that.”

This makes him freeze. He blinks up at me, bewildered. “No point?”

“I, uh, don’t find it easy to come that way,” I say in a small voice. “It never worked with my ex.”

“Never?” He searches my face, and a wave of regret washes over me as I realize I said too much.

I shake my head slowly, my cheeks burning.

Immediately, his expression softens. He kisses my stomach as he looks up at me. “There’s no pressure for you to come.”

“I won’t.” I can’t believe I’m admitting this. “I’ve never gotten there with a guy going down on me. I don’t know if it’s me or them… I get too locked in my own head.”

He smiles and comes up to plant a kiss on my lips. “That’s okay. But will you let me try because I want to?” His gaze darkens with lust. “I can’t stop thinking about what you taste like. But I won’t do it if it makes you uncomfortable.”

I give him a shy nod in response. What if he doesn’t enjoy my taste?

He must sense my unease. “Hey,” he murmurs below me, his brows pulling together in a frown. “There’s nothing you can do to make me want this less. All you need to do is close your eyes and relax, okay?”

I bite my lip as he stares up at me intently. Doing as I’m told, I take a deep breath and squeeze my eyes shut.

He travels down again and places one hand on each of my thighs to keep them apart.

His tongue and lips brush over my clit, and I nearly jump out of my skin at the sensation. Immediately, a deep, primal growl comes out of him, making me want to giggle, but I hold it back. He has no qualms about showing me how much he’s enjoying himself.

He starts off slow as if he’s testing the waters to make sure it feels good for me.

My pulse quickens, and I will myself to relax. I resist the urge to close my legs as he eats me.

Fuck… that’s nice.

Killian knows exactly what he’s doing: the perfect amount of pressure to use, the alternating rhythm of slow and fast, how to use his fingers to massage my slit while pleasuring me with his tongue.

A delicious heat builds between my legs, but I know I won’t reach orgasm. I’m close, but I’ll not get there. I never do.

I try to push away the negative thoughts infiltrating my mind. What if I don’t taste good? What if he hates it? Does he think something is wrong with me? Is there something wrong with me? Why can’t I come with guttural moans like they do in the movies?

His groan vibrates against my skin, and when I look down, his mouth closes over me, and the look on his face is so full of lust and pleasure that the heat in my core intensifies.

“Clodagh,” he murmurs in a low baritone. “You taste incredible. I love this.”

Our eyes meet, and the connection sends more delicious thrills through me. I didn’t want our stare to end, but the moment’s intensity is almost too much.

Holy hell.

Every sensation is heightened.

My skin tingles everywhere his tongue caresses me.

His scent lingers all over me.

My legs involuntarily jolt whenever he utters my name in that deep husky growl and tells me I’m the sweetest damn thing he’s ever tasted.

Fuck.

Fuck.

“Oh, fuuuuuuuck,” I moan in pleasure.

Shallow breathing. Remember how to breathe.

I buck as he does something with his tongue I can’t even describe.

“Too much,” I pant out, unsure if I want him to stop or keep going.

“Really?” he breathes beneath me.

“No. Yes. I don’t know! No.”

God… it feels amazing.

Maybe… just maybe…

“Let go, beautiful,” he says softly below me. “I can feel that you want to.”

My body quivers. Killian is relentless. He’s not stopping until I come. It feels like this could go on forever.

I don’t know if it’s the pressure building in my core or the look of pure pleasure on his face that tips me over the edge, but… wow, this is actually happening.

I’m there.

“Yes, beautiful, let it happen. You deserve to feel so good.”

I’m coming… I’m coming on his tongue.

My legs spasm as I let out breathy, jerky moans, gripping his hair tightly as the flutters in my core become intense waves of pleasure throughout my body.

I collapse onto the bed, my arms and legs like jelly. “You did it,” I gasp, staring at the ceiling. “Thank you.”

He chuckles low and husky as he brings himself level with me. “No need to thank me. The pleasure was all mine.”

I give him a silly grin. “You must have a really strong jaw.”

“Nah.” His blue eyes shine at mine. “Just a really big appetite.”

I don’t remember falling asleep. But when I wake up in the morning, I’m under the covers, and Killian is gone.