Chapter 14
CHAPTER 14
MAEVE
M y eyes met Tristan’s in the mirror before sliding toward Kennedy, who was huddled with Sophie, all of them listening intently. “And then he asked, ‘Want me to help you with your PJs, Mae? You seem kinda distracted.’”
Tristan’s mouth formed an O shape. “He called you Mae, as in Mae West?”
I nodded, my eyes rounding.
Kennedy fanned her face. “That’s fucking hot.”
Tiny goose bumps pebbled down my arms at the memory. “There’s no words to explain how hot it was. I thought Callum walking in on me almost naked would be the single most embarrassing thing I’d ever have to go through, but...”
The three of them all leaned toward me.
“...I’ve never felt more beautiful,” I announced.
Sophie’s face softened. “You are beautiful.”
My gaze drifted to the mirror where Tristan had just finished doing my hair, and for the first time in my life, I believed her.
“What happened after that?” Ned asked. “Did he leave you hanging?”
“We ate pizza and watched a movie,” I told her. “Except...”
“Except what?” Tris demanded.
My face scrunched up in a confused expression. “I think my husband was flirting with me all night. He kept leaning close and talking into my ear and neck like he was using any excuse to touch me. He got me so worked up that I could hardly think straight.”
Tristan gave Kennedy a smug look. “It was the keratin treatment.”
Kennedy rolled her eyes. “Don’t be dumb, Tris. We’re talking about a red-blooded Irishman here, and ten minutes ago, I saw Maeve’s tits. Believe me, it wasn’t the fucking keratin.” She nodded down at me. “Her rack is incredible, Best tits I’ve ever seen, and I was a top-billed Las Vegas stripper back in the day, remember? If Callum got an eyeful of those girls, he’s a goner.”
Tristan’s eyes slid down to my chest, then back up to my eyes, and his eyes sparkled. “Baby girl, I think your husband’s already half in love with you. How couldn’t he be when you’re like a ray of sunshine in our lives. Now, I’m happy to say he’s falling in lust with you, too. Are you ready? Because there’s only so long he’ll hold back before he pounces.”
My belly fluttered at the thought.
Sophie smirked. “It may be sooner rather than later in that outfit.”
I pulled my top down, trying to cover my stomach. “I feel exposed.”
“We’re going to a biker party, Maeve,” she reminded me. “We’ll be wearing more clothes than most.”
I took in my high-waisted black jeans that even I could see flattered my curves. My top was a skin-tight, titty-skimming, sweetheart-necked, gossamer-thin black top with tiny red flowers printed on it. The big puffy sleeves fell down my arms, leaving my shoulders entirely exposed while framing my clavicle bone that Tristan had made more pronounced with a sweep of highlight.
My now glossy curls (thanks to the keratin treatment) were out to there, and my makeup was subtle with just a winged eyeliner, mascara, highlight, and a hint of bronzer and blush. Tristan had finished my look off with a glassy red but still subtle lip gloss.
Being vain was never something I’d even thought about, but even I had to keep looking at myself in the mirror just to make sure it was me. All my life, I’d been the ugly duckling, the wallflower, the nerdy friend. Honest to God, I never knew I could look like this. And best of all, I still looked like me, just a polished-up version.
My stare swept over my friends. “Thank you for helping me pick an outfit and get ready. It means everything.”
Kennedy looked up from fastening her sky-high, red-soled boots and gave me a knowing wink. “I loved spending somebody else’s money for a change. I’m sure Kit’s bank balance was grateful too.”
“I wish I knew you on my wedding day,” I murmured, my eyes sliding to the mirror to once again check the reflection was actually me.
“Same.” Tristan’s eyes narrowed spitefully. “I would’ve cut a bitch.”
I busted out laughing because I believed every word. Tristan was fierce, especially when wielding his hair stylist scissors.
My heart contracted when I thought how the past week had been one of the best of my life.
The bar looked so amazing that I found myself standing in the middle of the new polished wooden floor, just taking everything in. We were almost ready for our grand reopening the weekend after, and the new drinks were coming along beautifully, too. I was quietly confident we had perfect flavor combinations, and I couldn’t wait to test them out on our customers.
My new friends had insisted on meeting up every day, if only for thirty minutes. Tristan had worked wonders with my hair and been so patient in showing me the best ways to style and manage it that I was much more confident now.
When I told him I didn’t have a clue about clothes and makeup, he showed me what types of clothes would flatter my figure. Even though Orla and the girls had told me I was fat all my life, I realized I wasn’t—I was just shaped differently to them. My newfound understanding of what worked best for my hourglass figure had taken pounds off me.
Things with Callum were even going well, albeit a little weird. We were both working hard during the day—me in the distillery and him in the bar—but every night, we seemed to gravitate to our apartment and stay cocooned in our bubble. We talked, watched movies, ate, laughed, and just got to know each other better.
We were friends, but at the same time, we were also more. Nothing had happened between Callum and me—he hadn’t even kissed me—but I could feel something was different and had been since he walked in on me almost naked. His gaze would linger on me, and I’d feel his eyes tracking me as I crossed the room. My skin would heat, and I’d get a little tongue-tied, which would make his face soften, and he’d smile at me teasingly.
And I’d find myself doing the same. The thing with Callum O’Shea was that everything about him was pure man, from the way he walked to the way he talked, laughed, and breathed. His manspreading drove me crazy, but I was also secretly thrilled by it because every time he did it, a part of him touched a part of me. The air of masculinity and strength he gave off made my senses spiral, and my eyes were immediately drawn to him because he was so darn breathtaking.
I’d sit beside him and imagine him leaning over and taking my mouth with his, and then suddenly, he’d do it; he’d lean over, but instead of kissing me, he’d breathe something into my ear or close to my neck, and I’d feel the air around us spark with electricity.
My skin would burn with his closeness, and I’d feel itchy, as if my blood and bones were trying to break free of my skin. My pulse would thud erratically, and I’d have to discretely rub my thighs together to alleviate the desperate need between them. My fingers twitched with the desire to touch him, to run them over his brawny shoulders and down his muscled pecs and explore everything I’d never experienced before, but I was too shy, and deep down in the dark, self-deprecating recesses of my mind, I was terrified of him rejecting me because the moment he did, it would leave us with nowhere else to go.
The notion scared me more than anything because I knew from experience living in hope was better than having none at all. I loved the fantasy of us so much that I couldn’t risk losing it.
A few days before, Callum asked me to go to this biker party tonight in Rock Springs, and I jumped at the chance. Except now, I was rethinking my life choices because it suddenly hit me that I was about to go on a date with Callum O’Shea, and I looked kinda pretty.
What would he think?
Would he assume I was trying to seduce him? Especially after all the weirdness of the week before. What if he finally recognized my big assed crush and laughed at me? Or would he feel bad and let me down gently by giving me the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech? I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to look him in the face again. I mean, how mortifying?
The sounds of car doors slamming outside and shouts of men greeting each other filtered in from outside.
“They’re here,” Sophie called out.
I felt the color drain from my face, and I began to chant under my breath, “Oh my God, oh my God.”
“Are you okay?” Tristan asked.
“No. I’m freaking out,” I cried. “What if Callum takes one look at me and laughs? What if he thinks I look stupid? Oh my God, why did I do this? I’m not like normal girls. I’ve got no business at a biker party! I’m a fucking archeologist, for God’s sake.”
Tristan grabbed both my hands. “Calm down, Mae Mae!”
“Oh my God,” I chanted again. “Oh my God, oh my God.”
“Eyes to me!” Tristan ordered in the tone of a drill sergeant.
My gaze lowered.
“Maeve. Eyes to me, goddamnit!” he barked.
My stare jerked up to meet his.
“You are a queen,” he told me determinedly. “Stop psyching yourself out, swing those fantabulous hips to the car with your sexy, hottie Irish husband in tow, and go party up a storm.”
“He’s right, Maeve,” Kennedy declared. “Plus, your tits look good in that top.”
My gaze sliced toward her. “Really?”
Her mouth curved into a smirk. “I bet you knock Callum on his ass.”
“Oh my God,” I cried. “That’s so sweet. It’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.” I glanced down and pulled on the gossamer material of my top, just to check if, indeed, my tits did look good in it. A swell of cleavage greeted me, and I sighed a relieved breath when I realized they looked absolutely awesome .
Yay me!
The sound of voices outside made my head jerk up just as the door opened.
“You ready?” Atlas’s deep voice boomed. “Not saying anyone will give a fuck if we’re late, but I don’t wanna miss Dischordium’s first set.”
The sound of boots thudded against the wooden floor, and I watched as Atlas sauntered inside, followed by Breaker, then Callum and Donovan.
Sophie and Kenney immediately moved toward their men and kissed them in greeting.
Tucking a lock of crazy hair behind my ear, I bit the inside of my cheek and took a fortifying breath, releasing it shakily as I plastered a smile on my face, and my gaze swung to my husband.
“What the actual fuck?” Callum growled, and yes, growled was the perfect word, seeing as he said it with his entire chest. His blue eyes swept down me, and his jaw fell open.
I felt my cheeks burn. My hands went to fidget with my top while I tried to ignore my husband’s shocked stare.
Donny let out a hoot, and his mouth curved into a smug grin. “You look fucking stunning, Maeve.”
Breaker’s gaze passed over me before doing a double take and veering back toward me again.
“Where’d them tits come from?” Atlas asked Sophie before he called over, “Where you been hiding ‘em, Toots?”
Callum let out a deep growl.
My face flamed.
“Jesus, Danny. I can’t let you out in public,” Sophie snapped, exasperation flooding her tone. “Stop embarrassing her.”
Yet another growl filled the room, and Callum glanced up to the heavens while muttering something under his breath. Then, I watched wide-eyed as my husband prowled (yes, he actually prowled like a big jungle lion) toward me. He reached out and tagged my hand, pulling me into him so forcefully that I was almost caught off-balance. A strong, sure hand slid around my waist, the other sliding behind my ear and cupping my cheek before Callum dipped his face to mine. “Don’t leave my fucking side tonight, wife.”
My nipples tingled.
Oh my.
“Okay,” I whispered.
“Either me, Donovan, or one of the boys will stick with you,” he went on. “If for any reason things get crazy and we get separated, you make sure you flash your wedding ring at anyone who approaches you and find one of us immediately. Got it?”
“Got it,” I murmured, almost dazed. “Wait! I’m not wearing my wedding ring.”
Something dark flashed behind his eyes. “Why the fuck not?”
I dropped my voice to a whisper. “Because you didn’t want a real marriage, remember? Anyway, you never wear yours either.”
Callum’s hand left my cheek, and he wiggled his fingers in my face, causing my head to rear back slightly at the sight of the band of gold glinting in the lights of the salon.
“The only time I don’t wear it is when I’m doing work in the bar ‘cause I don’t wanna get paint and shit on it,” he told me quietly.
“Oh,” I breathed, my eyes darting between his.
“We’ll call back to the apartment. You go upstairs, get your ring, put it the fuck on, and keep it on.”
My heart bloomed inside my chest. “Okay.”
One eyebrow quirked up questioningly. “What did I tell you before about listening to the shit I say?”
I bit the inside of my lip before replying, “You said not to.”
He jerked a nod. “Why?”
“Cause you’re an idiot?” I suggested, posing it as a question to take the sting out of my words.
“That’s right, Mae, I’m an idiot.” He dropped his forehead to rest on mine. “I was a fucking idiot, not just for saying all that bullshit on our wedding day but also for everything that happened before, and I’m sorry for it. Do you get what I’m saying?”
“Umm,” I replied, not sure that I actually did.
Callum smirked. “You will by the end of the night. Believe me, by then, you’ll be in no fucking doubt.”
Three loud claps cracked through the room. “Come on, lovebirds,” Atlas shouted. “Chop fuckin’ chop. We don’t got all goddamned night.”
Callum lifted his forehead, his eyes locking with mine. “You’re driving me nuts.”
My heart bounced, unsure if it was a good or bad thing. “Really?”
His gaze drifted down to my chest and up again. “Those tits will give me a fucking embolism by the end of the night. I just know it.”
“They will?” I beamed happily, my tone full of hope.
He closed his eyes, shaking his head with a wry smile, and then his hand slipped into mine, and he pulled me toward the door. “We gotta go to the apartment,” he called out. “Maeve forgot something.”
“Yeah,” Atlas said dryly. “Her top. Make her put a fuckin’ sweater on.”
I busted out a giggle.
“Shut your big mouth,” I heard Sophie whisper-shout, but I didn’t care because the vibes Atlas was giving were of the big brother variety, and I liked the warm and fuzzy feelings they evoked.
Callum was a different matter. His vibes were as far removed from big brother as you could get. He liked my boobs—even though it was probably because of my top, but even so, how awesome was that? Callum O’Shea liked the look of my boobs. Me! Nerdy little Maeve Monroe.
Yippee!
He pulled me toward the door, passing Donovan, who announced, “Seeing as I got stood up, I’ll take Tristan as my date.” He turned toward my friend. “What do you say, Tris. You wanna come to a biker party with me?”
Tristan popped a hip, resting a hand on his waist. “Only if you’re a sure thing.”
I smiled at their playful teasing, and then the door closed, effectively cutting off their conversation. “I hope Tristan does come out,” I said wistfully. “He’s so much fun.”
Callum opened the door of his black F150 and took my hand to help me up. “He will. He wouldn’t miss a biker party.”
Warmth enveloped my fingers, and my nerve endings tingled. These feelings were a culmination of almost a week of longing looks, soft touches, and flirty banter. It was no wonder I was wound tighter than a jack-in-the-box after a week of my hot husband flirting harder than Jude Law with the new nanny.
After settling me in the passenger seat, Callum grabbed the seat belt and leaned over me, clicking it together.
I closed my eyes to protect against the onslaught of his masculinity, only made more powerful by the lemony, peppery, musky cologne he wore. The low part of my belly, just above my groin, pulsed at his close proximity. Sweet baby Jesus, I had to pull myself together. I was behaving like a sex-crazed?—
“Maeve,” Callum murmured.
My eyes flicked open to see his face an inch away from mine, our eyes level, and my pulse kicked into overdrive again.
“You’re gorgeous,” he breathed, his soft gaze slipping down to my mouth.
My breath caught in my throat. “Oh.”
“I’m gonna kiss you,” he announced.
My mind blanked. I couldn’t even form a coherent sentence. I opened my mouth to say ‘oh’ again when Callum let out a soft groan, and his lips took mine in a bruising kiss.
My brain exploded. I lost all thought and feeling except for one sentence that kept running through it.
Callum O’Shea is kissing me.
Callum O’Shea is kissing me.
His lips were firm and insistent. My husband coaxed my mouth open, tangling his tongue with mine. He moaned into my mouth, and my heart leaped, my stomach turning to mush as he strengthened the kiss, like he was starving for me.
My arm slid around his neck, tangling in the hair at his nape, pulling him closer and sighing contentedly at the feel of his touch and the strength of his lips. I was still half-shocked. How was this happening? I was a four; with my keratin treatment and new top, it may have increased slightly, but still, I was clearly out of Callum O’Shea’s league.
The lightness of his fingertips didn’t register at first. I was so into the feel of his soft lips and the way his tongue pressed against mine that my thoughts were blown out of the water. Then, a tingling sensation alerted me to his hand stroking up my waist and over my ribcage toward my breasts.
Callum’s mouth wrenched itself from mine, moved across to my ear, and whispered, “Mo bhean chéile.”
My belly whooshed.
I had no clue what he’d said to me. All I knew was that it was beautiful. I sighed, utterly caught up in the moment and how Callum made me feel like I meant something.
Suddenly, his mouth was there, his tongue tracing over the swell of my breasts, and I thought I’d spontaneously combust. I’d never been this close to anyone, let alone a man. The fact it was Callum O’Shea just made it all the more magical, more sexy, more everything.
His fingertip deftly moved the thin material of my top, and I cried out when his mouth caught my nipple. An invisible string tugged from my breasts to my groin, and a rush of moisture hit me between my thighs.
“Jesus fuck,” he rasped before going in again, sucking my nipple harder.
I whimpered, my hips automatically lifting to seek purchase on anything to bring relief.
I’d pleasured myself before, hundreds of times, but I’d never felt anything like this. Every part of me he touched sparked to life as if it had been waiting for him. Need burned me from the inside out, and I didn’t know how I was ever going to quell it or even if I wanted to.
It just felt so fucking good.
“Baby,” he said, his voice husky.
My eyes flew open, “Huh?”
“We gotta stop.”
My heart withered away to nothing.
It didn’t take him long to come to his senses.
Tears hit the back of my throat, but I swallowed them down. It didn’t matter that Callum had given me a taste of what it could be and then taken it away. I was still grateful I got to experience at least a small?—.
“Nothing I want more than to take you home and fuck you so hard that you ache for me as much as I ache for you right now, but tonight we’ve got other commitments.”
My body locked.
Umm.
Callum carefully pulled my top back into place and gently kissed the tip of my nose. “Plus, Tristan keeps looking outta the window, probably giving your girls a running commentary, and I know he’s gay, but if he gets even a glimpse of your gorgeous tits, I’ll have to go back inside and rip his fucking eyeballs out. Chances are, if we carry on, he will, ‘cause as God is my witness, I’ll have you riding me buck naked in this car in about two point six seconds at the rate we’re going. Want our first time together to be better than that. You’re not just a quick fuck in a car. You’re my wife.”
I blinked dazedly into his eyes, thinking about the beauty of his words and how they burrowed under my skin and lovingly hugged my insides. “Y-you want this? With me?”
He pulled his head back to study my face. “Well, yeah. Don’t you?”
I peered back at him. “I thought… You said…”
“We already cleared that up, remember? I’m a fucking idiot.” Callum jumped down to the sidewalk and closed my door with a dull thud before rounding the hood of his truck and climbing into the driver’s seat. He pressed a hand down onto his groin and shot me a furtive glance. “Gonna have trouble keeping him under control tonight. All I’ll be able to think about is how soon I can get my mouth back around your incredible tits.”
My stomach turned to goo.
He pressed the start button, and the truck roared to life. “You got much goin’ on tomorrow?”
I shook my head, my mind still distracted by the words he’d just said to me. “Just the usual, checking on the distillery. There’s only a few days left of fermentation.”
“Good.” He put the truck into drive and checked his mirrors before pulling away. “You better save some energy and don’t get too drunk, wife. You’re not gonna get much sleep tonight.”
“Not much sleep?” I began, the words fading as their meaning sunk in. “Oh!”
My eyes widened, and I turned to face the front of the truck, wishing my stomach didn’t resemble the inside of a washing machine.
Was he saying...?
Did he mean...?
Did my husband, who just weeks before told me he didn’t want me, just announce that he intended to have sex with me tonight?
“Do you get me, Mae?” he demanded. “I’m gonna play with you until you pass out from exhaustion.”
My eyes bugged out at his words. “Okay,” I squeaked.
“Good,” he muttered. “I’m sick of fucking around. We’re consummating this shit, once and for all.” His hand reached for mine, and he laced our fingers together. “Things have changed. I just didn’t see it or didn’t want to, so it took me a while to clue in.” He glanced at me again, lifting my hand to his mouth and kissing my knuckles. “Turns out there was a lotta shit I’ve been blind to. Dunno what’s going on, can’t even say I totally understand it, but I do know you mean something to me.”
The car gently braked. I looked up to see we’d arrived home, and Callum had driven around the back to the courtyard.
“Where’s your ring?” he asked.
“Bedside drawer,” I told him.
He leaned across and kissed my temple before throwing his door open and climbing out of the truck. Then he ran up the steps and disappeared inside the apartment while my thoughts galloped through my mind at a hundred miles per hour.
My feelings for my husband were so consuming that sometimes it hurt to look at him. It had always been that way for me. But I couldn’t ignore the sliver of uneasiness weaving through my belly because his reciprocation seemed sudden. It was only a few weeks ago he told me he wanted a marriage in name only, then one day, I get a keratin treatment, and lo and behold, he’s all in?
The thought of making myself vulnerable and putting it all out there didn’t fill me with confidence; if anything, it filled me with dread.
Callum saw me. Finally, he looked deeper, and it seemed he liked what he’d found. I should’ve been excited and ecstatic, and I was—I felt both of those things. But a part of me also couldn’t help feeling unsettled about it because good things just didn’t happen to me.
Not ever.