Chapter 22
POV: Maeve?
The next day….
Sounds of cheering, clapping, and old Irish men laughing and telling jokes echoed throughout the room.
Gran and Moira had insisted that we go to see the festival, keeping the classic stereotype of old Irish women alive and well.
“Oh, how I love the dancing!” Gran cheered, clapping her hands with Moira as we listened to the gleeful Irish tune.
“Why don’t you get out there?” I teased.
“Oh, Maeve, these legs don’t work like they used to,” she laughed.
I went off to order us some beers from Liam’s beer tent.
One of his employees took my order and I returned barely balancing three beers and handed one off to each.
After an hour of dancing and laughing, grandma and Moira decided that it was time to start packing up and get on the road.
But then I heard the voice come from behind me.
Oh god, no, I said in my head.
But I wasn’t imagining it.
It was Declan.
And he was walking towards us, waving happily.
Gran raised her eyebrows.
“That one’s your fault,” I whispered. “Declan.”
Grandma gave me a weary smile. “Well be kind to the young lad.”
I forced a smile as I waved back at him. “I will be, gran.”
“Hello Maeve,” he greeted.
“Hi Declan.”
“Would you care for a dance for old times sake?”
I wanted to politely say no, but his puppy dog eyes and gran’s words got the best of me.
What’s one dance? I thought. Liam’s not even here.
But as soon as we made it to the dance floor with my hand in Declan’s, my gaze landed on his.
Liam’s.
His face was as straight as can be. Zero emotion. Zero amusement. Just plain anger raging in his eyes.
Fuck, I thought.
As I looked around the room, Gran and Moira were already gone and I was dancing hand in hand with Declan, when I really didn’t want to, while Liam stared me down with daggers in his eyes.
I turned to Declan, watching his gaze go from happy to sad within seconds, “What’s wrong, Maeve?”
“I’m sorry, Declan..I—” my voice broke as I dropped his hand and walked away and straight towards Liam.
Liam was at the other end of the bar now, serving customers and avoiding my gaze entirely.
“Liam,” I waved as I walked over towards him, trying to get his attention.
Silence.
“Liam,” I said, lower this time.
But Liam wouldn’t look up. “I’m working, Maeve.”
That’s all he said. He was trying to dismiss me.
“Sorry about that,” I said quietly.
“About what?” I saw his jaw tick as he still avoided my gaze.
I let out a heavy sigh. “About dancing with Declan. I felt bad and I didn’t know what to do and I…”
Liam cut me off coldly as his gaze finally pierced mine. “It doesn’t matter, Maeve.”
But I knew it did.
“It doesn’t matter. Dance with whoever you want, kiss whoever you want, even fuck whoever you want. I don’t care, Maeve.”
His words wounded me.
I stared off in oblivion at the back of the tent in shock. I shook my head in confusion. “I—”
“There’s nothing to talk about, Maeve,” he said curtly.
“Fine,” I shook my head angrily, in complete disbelief from his dismissive behavior over a fucking dance. “It was a dance, Liam. But go ahead, be angry over a fucking dance. Whatever.” I stomped away, leaving the tent and walking down the sidewalk and towards my cottage.
I was getting tired of this up and down, hot and cold, on and off behavior.
One day he acted like we didn’t have a relationship. And the next he acted overly possessive and jealous. Then he would think apologies and sex made things better.
But in truth, he was just as confused as I was. Neither of us knew what we wanted.
I sat in my cottage for most of the day before the bright idea came to mind.
I should walk to his pub. I should really tell him off. I should give him an ultimatum. So, I made my way and the moment I yanked open the old door, our gazes met.
I rolled my eyes, hoping he’d see then headed straight to where he was standing behind the bar. “We need to talk.” I narrowed my eyes for good measure.
Liam’s expression didn’t change. He was grumpy as ever. “Maeve, I’m working.”
“You’re always working,” I said.
He braced his hands on the bar, shaking his head as he said, “I can’t do this Maeve, not in the middle of the damn bar.”
“Well, I’m not leaving until we talk,” I said stubbornly, crossing my arms.
He tried to do the fake out, stare at me, hoping I’d give in to his demands and probably just leave and stomp on home.
But I wasn’t going to do that. I wasn’t going to make this easy for him.
“Fine,” he said after a while. “Backroom.” He motioned to the kitchen door.
He led me towards the backroom, and the entire time I should’ve been thinking over my argument, thinking over my ultimatum, thinking over everything I needed to say to him and clearing the air once and for all.
But instead all I was thinking of was the way his shirt contoured around his back muscles and the way his tattoos looked on his forearms.
The backroom door closed and I was left with the undeniable truth.
That one of two things would happen now.
We’d make progress and have a productive adult conversation.
Or
We’d have sex and work out our feelings in physical intimacy.
Liam was casually leaning against a storage shelf with his lips pursed, arms folded, and gaze tracking across my body.
I gulped, trying to remember what I needed to say so badly.
The words tumbled out, unconvincing, “We should talk about things. Not even just about what happened earlier but everything.”
He kept quiet.
So I kept going, digging myself further in a hole. “I don’t like this hot and cold, Liam and I—I don’t understand it. You act like you care about me and then you fuck me and then you get mad at me then refuse to talk to me and—-”
He cut me off, “Did you really believe that dancing with Declan would not make me angry?”
I was dumbfounded. “No, I didn’t. I was just trying to be nice.”
“Nice?” he laughed, taking a step closer to me, with fire in his eyes. “That’s great you were being nice to a guy who wants to fuck you and would fuck you if you gave him the go ahead!”
“I wouldn’t fuck him!” I yelled back at him, an inch away from his face.
“Who knows, maybe you would think you were being nice?” he mocked.
“How dare you!” I yelled, turning on my heels ready to leave.
Liam grabbed my arm, yanking me back and into his chest. “How dare me, Maeve?” he mocked again. “How dare you—you make me jealous—you let him touch you—you let him think he has a chance then you act as if I’m overreacting?”
I couldn’t even think of anything intelligible to say.
So, I did what my mind urged me to do.
I kissed him.
Then suddenly his hands were around my waist and he was pushing me against the side of a table, and clearing it off with a swoop of his hands.
His lips were on my neck, trailing down my shoulder then collarbone then lower to the top of my breasts.
I moaned, positioning myself by turning around and pushing my ass against his crotch.
He unbuckled his belt, unzipped his jeans then pushed down his pants and his underwear. I stumbled, with his assistance to push down my jeans.
He pressed a kiss into my neck as my ass rubbed his erection.
“Maeve, Maeve, Maeve,” he whispered into my ear and it sounded like a plea. “You drive me fucking crazy, Maeve.”
He hooked my underwear with a finger, pulled it aside and slipped inside me with a single ecstasy filled thrust.
I moaned out, trying to muffle the sound by biting back the sound but failed to.
Liam smiled, as if in victory, as he wrapped a hand around my shoulder and thrusted again. “You are ruining me, Maeve.”
It was almost poetic, since he was ruining me too.
Another thrust, this time, longer and more drawn out.
“Fuck,” he cursed into my ear. “You make me so—angry.”
“You—” I groaned. “Make me so angry, too.”
He thrusted again inside me, causing my ass to slap against his skin.
“I’ve marked you, Maeve,” he whispered, possessively inside my ear. “Everytime I cum inside you, I mark you and you belong to me.”
And oh, he has came inside me so so many times.
I wetted further from the thought.
“Do you understand?” he asked, this time lower.
“Yes,” I cried out as he thrusted into me harder this time.
The table moved from our roughness.
“Say it,” he demanded, low and rough in my ear as he wrapped his hand around my throat and pressed a kiss onto my cheek and thrusted deeper inside me.
“I belong to you,” I cried out as I felt my orgasm break through me.
“Good,” he whispered, thrusting again, lighting his hold on my throat as he emptied into me.
I was out of breath by the time we finished. My body against the table as Liam removed himself from me and quietly cleaned my wetness with a paper towel from the storage.
After he finished, he turned his back to me then quietly said, “I have to get back to work, Maeve.”
I nodded.
I had nothing left to say, at least anything intelligible.
I had come here to talk—to give him an ultimatum, but of course our attraction—our connection got the best of both of us.
“I’ll walk you home,” he said, ushering me towards the back door.
“You don’t have to,” I told him.
“I’m going to,” he said with conviction.
The walk home was just as complicated as the two of us were….it was silent, fully charged with undiscussed emotions.
We stopped at my door and stared at each other for a moment, each of us not knowing what to do, to let alone say.
“Goodnight Maeve,” his tone was softer than before.
“Goodnight, Liam.”
Liam waited until I opened the door then slowly began to walk away with his hands in the pockets.
I leaned against the door, closing my eyes and groaning.
I think I’m falling in love, and I’m fucking terrified because now he has the ability to break my heart.