Chapter 9
Nine
Cadden
The Past
I never saw her coming; no I didn’t.
What I thought was hate… maybe isn’t.
—Cadden James Connelly
“So…” Brodie steps in next to me, seemingly done with his clientele. “Beibhinn Devereux?”
I lean against the railing, eyes trained on the makeshift dance floor next to the pool—or more importantly, the girl with the colourless hair. She holds her arms above her head, eyes closed as her whole body sways to the beat. I hate that she holds all my attention, stealing my focus like a snake charmer with each roll of her hips. Unfortunately for me, she’s still wearing the soaked white tank top and her cotton panties, hard nipples poking through the thin fabric and drawing the eyes of every motherfucker at this party.
It’s taking all the strength I have not to go down there and beat every cunt that looks her way to death. What is it about her that draws out the green monster in me? That fucker is barely contained, seconds from breaking free. I remind myself of her insanity. Beibhinn is a loose cannon, the kind of girl that will bring you to life with her malevolent smile only to cut your dick off with a rusty knife, laughing while she does it. Maybe I can blame my newfound obsession on how she’s going to be my wife one day, and I don’t want anyone to have a claim on her, or maybe it’s something entirely different. Something I am not ready to admit, even if the devil on my shoulder keeps repeating the same word over and over, leading me to temptation with four letters. Mine.
I shouldn’t want her. And I don’t. But I can’t deny the pull I feel towards her. Just looking at her drives me fucking crazy with conflicting emotions. One minute, I want to wrap my hand around her throat and teach her a lesson, and the next, I want to shut her up, silencing her by slamming my mouth against hers. Her allure is aggravating, and it’s confusing the shit out of me. I don’t want to want her, but something stirring inside me tells me I don’t have a choice.
Brodie’s shoulder knocks off mine, gaining my attention and silently asking me to expand on his non-question. My neck cranes to the side, and I raise a brow. “What about her?”
“Don’t play stupid, Cad. You’ve kept both eyes on her all night, and don’t think I didn’t notice you refusing Meila when she offered to suck your dick, because I did.”
He’s right. After Beibhinn’s arrival, the last thing I wanted was Meila’s mouth on me. But there isn’t a reality where I’ll admit that. “I wasn’t feeling it.”
There’s a smug look on Brodie’s face, and judging by the slight tilt of his chin, it seems this fucker thinks he knows something I don’t. His hand lands on my shoulder before he gives it a tight squeeze. “You might not want to see what’s right in front of you, but everyone else can. The killer queen has our king wrapped around her finger. And I for one, can’t wait to see how this plays out.”
Once again, I find myself lying through my teeth. “You’re wrong."
He tipped his chin towards the dance floor. “You sure about that?"
My eyes follow his gesture and my blood boils hotter than the sun. Standing behind Beibhinn, with his hands curled around her hips, grinding his cock against her arse as they sway to the music, is one of my best friends. Lucas Daly.
His gaze connects with mine over her shoulder, and an emotion I have no business feeling rushes to the surface. My fingers tighten around the railing, and my knuckles turn white as my body rattles with raw jealousy. He knows what he’s doing, and if the smarmy smile twisting his lips is anything to go by, he knows it’s working, too. His hands move higher, sliding along her ribcage as he draws her back against his chest.
Beibhinn closes her eyes and tips her chin towards the sky, resting her head against Lucas’s shoulder. His hands continue to wander, and the urge to remove them from his body takes over. Before rational thought enters the picture, I’m catapulting over the railing to the soundtrack of Brodie’s laughter. “Not interested, my arse.”
Thankfully, I land on my feet, ignoring the hoots and hollers of the group of drunk arseholes whose conversation I dropped into. The sea of people between me and my destination parts as I stalk towards Beibhinn and Lucas with murder on my mind. I have no idea where this newfound possession came from, but there’s no stopping me.
This is my kingdom.
My playground.
Lucas is testing me, and unfortunately, the little game he’s playing reveals colours I normally don’t show. I might hate the girl with a fiery passion, but the moral of the story is she belongs to me, and nobody—not even my best friend—can touch her.
My feet eat up the distance, and I draw closer. With every step, Lucas’s wicked smirk widens, but once he sees the darkness swirling in my eyes, he steps backward, holding his hands up in surrender.
His swift retreat makes Beibhinn stumble forward, right into my grasp. Her palms flatten against my chest, stopping me from pummelling my oldest friend into next week. “Oh, the prince of darkness decided to come down from his perch and join the peasants.”
Tearing my gaze away from Lucas, I finally look down at the girl who barrelled into my life without apology. Her fingers trace across my chest, drawing circles. “Why does he have to be so beautiful? It makes hating him kinda hard,” she mutters beneath her breath, and if I had to wager a guess, I’d say she didn’t mean to say that aloud.
My chest vibrates with a chuckle, and Beibhinn’s bloodshot eyes latch onto mine. She’s more wasted than I thought. Gone are the icy blue depths that remind me of a snowy mountain; now they’re clouded over and rimmed with red.
She leans into me, teeth chattering as she nuzzles her face into my chest. “And he’s so warm and smells amazing.” A belch breaks past her lips and her hand flies to her mouth. “Oopsie.”
Peering over her shoulder, I pin my gaze on Lucas. “How much has she drank? She’s fucking wasted.”
“I don’t know. She polished off the champagne and followed it up with a few vodka and Cokes.”
“I’m cold, not drunk.” Her eyes cross as she boops her nose with her finger. “See, I can feel my face.” Forcing my gaze back to her, I raise a brow. What the fuck I’m supposed to do with her? I can’t leave her down here. She can barely stand straight, and she’s making fuck-all sense.
I make a split-second decision, then, before I can talk myself out of it, I’m lifting her into my arms. “Up you go, trouble.”
“You’re not sticking your snake in my box. I don’t care how beautiful you are. My virginity is mine, not yours.”
Lucas tries to hide his laughter behind his palm, but I shut him up with a look. “Shut this party down and send everyone home.”
He nods as Beibhinn’s face falls into the crevice of my shoulder, and she draws a deep breath. “I mean it. Come near me with your boy parts and I’ll bite them off.”
Ignoring her rambling, I turn towards the castle, wondering how the fuck I got stuck on babysitting duty.
I’m almost to Beibhinn’s bedroom when I suddenly remember I barricaded her door with my mother’s antique sideboard and with a half-asleep psycho in my arms, I won’t be able to move it. Cursing my earlier self, I turn on my heel and change course, heading for my room instead. Once I get to the door, I shift Beibhinn’s weight to my right and reach for the brass knob.
“Aye,” Beibhinn shouts, “where are you taking me? This isn’t my prison cell.”
“Calm down, trouble. It’s my room. I can’t get into yours right now, so you can sleep off your mistakes in here.” I kick the door open and push into the room, then using my elbow, I flick on the dimmer lights.
Beibhinn’s eyes narrow, squinting against the brightness before she buries her head in my neck. “No sex for you.”
“So you’ve said. But trust me when I say I don’t make a habit of sleeping with girls who are too drunk to walk. I’ve no intention of taking your V-card.”
“That’s bollocks and you know it.” Her words are muffled against my neck. “Our dads have made up their minds. Leaving me here is just a formality—a box to be ticked.”
Carrying her towards the bed, I lower her down so she’s sitting on the edge. Holding her steady, I grip her upper arms, and she drops her chin to her chest, refusing to look me in the eye. Needing to assure her, I place my fingers beneath her chin and tip her gaze towards mine. “I might be an arsehole, Beibhinn, but I’m not a rapist. If and when I fuck you, it will be because you beg me to.”
“Not happening.” She lifts her wet T-shirt over her head, flashing me a free show. My eyes lick across her creamy skin for far longer than they should, making my dick stir behind my zipper. Finally, I snap out of it, dragging my eyes away. Spinning around, I face towards the door. “What the hell are you doing? One minute you’re telling me I can’t touch you, the next you’re flashing me your tits.”
“I’m all wet.” Logically I know she’s talking about her clothes but paired with the conversation we’re having it’s hard for my mind not to wander in an entirely different direction. “You can hardly expect me to sleep in wet clothes.”
Reaching over my shoulder, I grip the neck of my T-shirt and pull it over my head before tossing it at her. “Put that on.” My words are clipped, doing fuck-all to hide my current state.
“For fuck’s sake, Cadden. I didn’t take you for a prude. I’m going to be your wife someday, might as well take a look at what you’re getting.”
Careful not to draw attention to myself, I flick off the overhead light and then readjust my cock since it’s pressing against my zipper. “I’ll pass, thanks.”
“Your loss. My tits are awesome.” Finally, something we both agree on.
Behind me I can hear her wrestling with my T-shirt. Then, once I deem it safe, I turn back around. The moonlight streaming through the window provides enough light for me to see her climbing beneath the covers.
Before I can question myself or my actions, I kick off my jeans and stalk towards the opposite side of the bed, climbing in next to her, leaving far more space between us than necessary.
Beibhinn stiffens, and in the silence of the room, I hear the catch of her breath. “What are you doing?”
“The same thing you are. I’m going to sleep.”
She turns to her side, her back to me. “Fine. But if one toe touches me, you’re losing it. Got it?”
“Don’t worry, trouble. I’ll keep my toes to myself. Now, if you could shut up, that would be excellent.”
All of a sudden, I’m aware of every breath she takes, even noticing how she sinks into the mattress as she pulls the duvet around her, leaving me with nothing but a tiny sliver. After a few awkward seconds, she releases a heavy sigh. “Cadden?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m still going to hate you tomorrow.”
A smile stretches across my face. “Ditto, trouble.”
Before long, her breathing deepens as she drifts off to sleep. Unfortunately for me, I have no such luck, kept awake by the taste of the lie lingering on my tongue.