4. Rory #2
“Not yet?” I asked, sucking on her right breast. A fire burned in my belly, and I needed her right then. I pulled myself on top of her, kissing her slowly, feeling her breath heave in and out of her chest.
“No,” she said and squirmed out of my embrace.
She returned to the dresser and pulled off her panties and bra. She was milky white, apart from her bright pink nipples, vagina, and lips. I wanted to taste her again, feel her close around me, but I held myself back.
She turned back to the dresser, exposing her white apple-shaped bottom toward me. I imagined my hands grabbing her hips, shoving my dick inside her, holding her tight against me, but I kept myself steady.
She grabbed a flowy spring dress and put it on. She didn’t bother with underwear.
“I want you to make love to me on the cliffs,” she said.
She fell over me then, pressing her body into me, her lips, both on her mouth and vagina against me. She rubbed against me, and I lay still, unable to move. Unable to do anything but feel her ride up and down on me, and then she was off me, giggling.
She grabbed a blanket, following me out of the bar and to my car.
It was a sleek black corvette, one of my favorites whenever I came across the pond.
It was also Frank’s least favorite whenever I lowered the roof as it always parted his hair in the exact worst way, or so he said. That made it all the better.
“Corvette, fancy. You must be some big wig, huh?”
“Something like that,” I said.
I pulled the corvette top down and we drove through the city, neither of us speaking much, just allowing the wind to wipe past us. Maeve was right. The day was perfect. The sun shone bright past the clouds and through Maeve’s hair, which glittered in the light.
There was a tendency to dislike British roads because of their narrowness, especially the ones snaking up the cliffs, being mere feet from a sudden drop, but I enjoyed it.
It made it feel like we were flying through the air.
Like we were on some magic carpet ride, and Maeve was showing me her world.
“You know, there was one other time in my life I’d been in a corvette,” she laughed, then said, “It was for a Wet Leg concert. My ex was using the car, so my friend and I just decided to go all out.”
“You and your ex shared a car?”
Something flashed over her face, but it vanished too quickly for me to comprehend it, then she replied, “Not usually. He crashed his car one night while drinking, and he needed a way to get to work?—”
“So you let him drive your car?”
“Yeah, well, I get that it was stupid, but back then it made sense. We were living together, and we shared nearly everything else, so why not that?”
“You share musical instruments too, didn’t you?”
“No,” she said that a little too quickly.
And this time when I looked at her, her face was a deep crimson.
“No, that was one thing we never shared. He wanted to, but my guitar was a gift from my mom back before she passed away. I wouldn’t ever let him use any instrument I owned, and I think that bothered him. ”
I took her hand, and she looked at me quickly. I almost expected her to pull away, but she squeezed my hand instead.
When we arrived, I drove toward the parking lot, but Maeve stopped me.
“I’ve got another spot. More private.”
She directed me further down the road, past a collection of gnarled trees bent by the wind, their twisted branches clawing at the gray sky.
The road narrowed, the pavement giving way to gravel, and then finally, a dirt parking lot.
Sure enough, we were the only car. Beyond the lot, a narrow footpath wove through tufts of wild grass, leading toward the edge of the world.
I turned to Maeve, who’d found a set of sunglasses in my glovebox. They were a little small on her, but somehow, they still fit her heart-shaped face.
“You’re so beautiful,” I said.
“I could say the same thing about you.”
I leaned to kiss her, then my phone went off.
Frank.
I ignored it, but when he called a second time, Maeve said, “Why don’t you answer it? I’ll find us a spot near the top where we can relax.”
“No—” I started, but she was already slipping out of the car, blanket in hand.
I had a mind to just follow her, to let the world beyond us fade into nothing.
The way the sun framed her, casting her in golden light, made her look almost otherworldly— like a star on the verge of exploding into something vast and infinite.
And I wanted to be there when it happened.
I wanted to feel the warmth of her radiance, to be consumed by it, to lose myself in the gravity of her pull.
She moved with an effortless grace that made my chest ache. Every step she took away from me felt like a tether stretching thin, threatening to snap. My body swayed forward, ready to chase after her, to close the space between us, but then Frank’s call cut through the moment.
Reluctantly, I answered, “Frank, it’s not a great time?—”
“Is it ever?” he said quickly, like he was ready to run over anyone who tried to speak. “I’m just getting on my connecting flight. There was a major delay. Are you there now?”
“Yeah, I found the bar. It’s cute. The owner will be easy to work with.”
“Great, but remember what we talked about before? I want to buy them out completely. It sounds like the family’s desperate enough.”
Maeve was becoming a small blip in the distance, her hair whipping wildly in the air.
“What exactly happened?”
“I don’t know. Something about a gambling debt. The dad’s a bit of an idiot. Maybe you’ll have similar luck with the girl. What’s her name? Matilda?”
“Maeve, and no. We won’t. I think we should just keep the fifty percent. Not buy her out.”
It was rare that I actually shared my opinion. Most of the time I didn’t care. This was Frank’s business— his ambition. I was just there to make the sale, foster relationships, and fix things that were broken.
“She’s cute, isn’t she?” Frank said after a moment. “You haven’t already slept with her, have you?”
“Seriously, Frank?”
“That’s a yes, huh?”
I didn’t answer, and then neither of us spoke, something unheard of back just two years ago.
Back then, I would have admitted that, yes, I’d been with Maeve.
Frank and I were inseparable then. The closest two brothers could be.
I’d thought buying up businesses would only strengthen us, but it had made us grow apart, with this severing us near completely.
“It’s not like that. I just don’t think we should do that. Not here.”
He harrumphed. “Whatever. I’ll see you in nine hours.” Then he hung up.
Maeve sat on the spread-out blanket, in the shadow of the great Cliffs of Moher, when I found her.
The cliffs rose like a great, jagged sentinel against the restless Atlantic.
A gust of wind howled through the open space, rattling the grass and pressing against my back.
It was raw, untamed beauty, dancing around another untamed beauty.
Maeve, with her swept back hair and fluttering dress, she could have been a goddess or nymph, sitting so still.
So perfect. She was part of the scene, and I was the intruder.
“Hey, come here,” she whispered. She took my hand and pulled me toward her, guiding me down as if she had been waiting for this moment forever.
She lay on the blanket, and her hair fanned out, a wild halo of reds and golds catching the last of the dying light. She looked up at me with those amber-flecked eyes.
“Do you think you’ll stay in Ireland forever?” I asked.
An intensity shifted behind her eyes, and she looked away from me, up at the bright blue sky above. Then she sighed. “Forever’s never really crossed my mind. Everything in life is fleeting. Happiness, success, relationships. Even my bar won’t last, no matter how much I wish it would.”
“I think I get that. Nothing lasts forever.” Hell, everything I ever cared about had slipped away. Maeve would too, once she figured things out.
As if she could hear the thought, she looked at me. Her gaze wasn’t sharp, just vast. Like something ancient and unknowable. Like the universe.
“Maybe it’s okay that nothing’s forever,” she said. “Maybe the uncertainty makes us cherish it more.”
I kissed her then, and the world disappeared.
Her fingers traced slow, deliberate paths over my chest, my stomach, as if memorizing me, learning me in a language only we could understand.
Every touch was a promise, a plea, a silent declaration.
I shivered, not just from the sensation, but from the sheer gravity of being known this intimately.
She unbuttoned my pants, but I stopped her.
Taking both her wrists in one of my hands, I pushed them above her head and onto the grass.
Then with my free hand, I stroked her nipples through the thin fabric.
She gave a little moan, squirming only when I pressed my mouth against her breast, forcing her nipples to grow, pressing hard into the fabric.
I let go of her hands, and as she stroked my hair, tugging and pulling as I sucked just a little harder. I pulled away from her, sliding toward her inner thighs, then lifted up her dress and stuck my face beneath. It was warm within the confines of her clothes, smelling like her sweetness.
My lips traced along the delicate skin of her thighs, savoring the heat radiating from her.
She trembled beneath me, her breath coming in soft, uneven gasps, each one a whisper of longing.
My hands held her gently, fingers pressing into her as if anchoring us both to this moment, to the space where we existed only for each other.