12.
Shay
She was heaven.
I’d never felt a rush quite as I did with Maggie. Not with anyone. The passion and need that constantly bubbled under my skin was impossible to ignore. Every time I was around her, my fingers itched to reach out and touch.
Back in the car, I’d barely been able to keep my hands to myself.
Now, I’d been in her flat for less than ten minutes, and already, I had her spread out on her bed beneath me. I liked having her there, soft and pliant. Her taste was drugging. I could’ve kissed her for hours, savouring every tiny reaction from her small gasps and faint moans to her beaded nipples, which I could feel beneath her soft hoodie. I wanted to tell her how beautiful and sexy she was, how much I desired her all the time, but I couldn’t.
I could only show her.
I broke away to kiss her neck, and she sighed in pleasure. My flattened palm moved down her stomach and under her hoodie, pressing to the soft, silky skin of her abdomen. I was hard as a rock as soon as her lips met mine, but now, I was in danger of seriously embarrassing myself, especially with how much her quiet noises turned me on.
“Shay,” she breathed, and I drew away from her neck to meet her gaze. I needed to check in and make sure she was okay with what was happening because I was certain neither one of us planned for this.
“Don’t stop,” she said then, and I captured her mouth once more, my tongue gliding along hers as my hand travelled farther under her top. Just as I’d suspected, she was braless, and when my hand swept across the underside of her generous breast, a stuttering sigh escaped me.
She felt perfect.
“Please, keep touching me,” she begged between kisses, and I cupped her breast in my hand. My other hand gently captured her knee as I encouraged her to wrap her thigh around my waist. I settled between her legs; my erection almost painful as I firmly ground into her. She moaned, and I did it again, loving how she responded every time.
She was so reactive.
My hand moved over to massage her other breast, my thumb flicking her nipple as I pressed my erection to her centre. I wished for our clothes to disappear, but I knew that would be taking things way too fast. Too far. We needed to slow down, but I just couldn’t pry my lips away from hers. I wondered if I could make her come that way because I was so close to making an embarrassing fucking mess of myself.
I wanted to know if she was wet, and I couldn’t hold back my curiosity any longer when I paused massaging her breasts to run my hand back down her stomach and cup her pussy over her leggings. She moaned; her cheeks flushed as our gazes met. Her blue eyes were bright with desire as she bit her lip, and I ran my finger down the centre of her.
Surprising me, she took my hand, slowly bringing it up then under the waistband of her leggings. I’d never been so turned on in my life than when she guided me past her underwear. My fingers met her soft pussy, and I exhaled gruffly. I was stunned by the dichotomy of her, how she could be so shy and sweet, but then when she was in my arms, there was a spark of passion that lit her up just for me. It was the sexiest thing imaginable, her confidence in showing me where she wanted me to touch her.
She was wet, so wet, and silky soft under my fingers. She encouraged me to keep touching her, not that I needed any encouragement. I found her clit and gently circled, then suddenly, she tugged her hoodie over her head, and she was naked from the waist up.
I blinked, frozen for a second as I took in the expanse of her pale, flawless skin and rosy nipples. Her full, rounded breasts sent even more blood rushing south.
Finally, I came to my senses when she gripped my neck and pulled my face to her breasts. I was more aroused than ever, knowing she wanted my mouth on her, that I could incite such desire in a woman who was normally so very contained. I sucked on her nipple, still fingering her clit, and she sighed in ecstasy. I looked up, absorbing the erotic sight of her hair spread across her pillow, her eyes closed in sheer pleasure.
I divided my attention between both nipples, then dragged one finger down her wet, silky core before gently pushing inside. Her channel tightened around my one finger, and I added another.
“More, Shay, please,” she mewled, one hand sweeping over my shoulders while, with the other, she gently scraped her nails across my scalp in a way that sent pleasure shooting down my spine. I was bewitched by her, obsessed.
I moved my fingers in and out of her, my speed slowly increasing as I brought my thumb up to her clit. She cried out, her thighs tightening around my waist as I dragged my tongue from one full, gorgeous breast to the other.
Her short nails dug hard into my scalp, and I knew she was close. I continued finger fucking her, my thumb circling her clit, my mouth on her tits, savouring each nipple, until she reached a fever pitch. Maggie came with a quick, hard shudder, followed by several shaky trembles. I dragged my hand from her leggings, my eyes hot on hers as I brought my fingers to my mouth and licked them clean.
I was far too eager to taste her, all of her, but for now, that would have to be enough. A bright flush coloured her cheeks as she watched me, her eyelids lowered and her eyes hazy from her orgasm. I’d never enjoyed making someone come as much as I enjoyed driving Maggie to release.
I was still hard as steel as her heavy-lidded eyes traversed my body. She inhaled sharply when she saw the outline of my erection and reached forward, gently stroking.
“Come here,” she whispered as her delicate hand moved up and down, and I shuddered, my face falling into the hollow between her neck and shoulder. It was … too much. I was aroused, but I didn’t want her to feel like she had to make me come just because I’d done the same for her.
With deep regret, I caught her hand in mine, her gaze lifted, and I shook my head.
Something clouded in her eyes. “You don’t want me to …” she trailed off and turned away from me, something crestfallen in the tilt of her head as she grabbed her hoodie and tugged it back on.
I pulled her to me and cupped her cheeks, again shaking my head, trying to show her I wanted nothing more than for her to keep touching me. Her expression lost some of its disappointment. “Okay, so you do want me to, but maybe not right now?”
I nodded. A breath left her, her tension dissolving. I went to wash my hands, then stepped over to where I’d hung my coat by the door, grabbing my phone and air pods from the inside pocket. Maggie was sitting up, her back resting against the headboard when I returned to her. She took the pods without question and put them in her ears.
I settled in beside her and opened the text to speech app in my phone. I’d fiddled around with it during my lunch break and managed to find a better sounding voice. It was generic Irish and male. It was a little closer to what I sounded like in my own head.
I sometimes wondered if everyone had an inner voice like I did or if their thoughts were more abstract. Perhaps the voice in my mind was so much louder because that was the only place it got to exist.
“I don’t want to rush things with you or make you feel pressured,” I typed into my phone, and Maggie’s eyes lit with understanding.
“Oh,” she breathed. “You changed the voice. This one’s much better,” she said, falling silent as a thoughtful look passed over her features. “I never feel pressured with you.”
“Good. Because I only ever want to do as much as you’re ready for.”
“Thank you. This is quite new to me. Well, not new, but … I haven’t been in a relationship for a very long time.”
That information caught my interest. “How long?”
Maggie exhaled, her eyes on the flower pattern of her duvet cover. “Seven years, I think? I kind of swore off all that because, well, I have issues, obviously.” She lifted her head, staring up at me. “What about you?”
I looked at her, my surprise at her answer probably written all over my face. I felt sad she’d been alone for such a long time, but I was also filled with a possessive pride because, if I was the first person she’d let get close to her in so many years, it had to mean something. She’d placed her trust in me, something she clearly didn’t do lightly, and I was more determined than ever to prove myself worthy.
“My ex-girlfriend and I, Emer, broke up a little under a year ago,” I finally replied.
“Oh,” she said, a faint frown tugging at her lips.
“What?” I typed. “Why are you frowning?”
She tucked some hair behind her ear. “It’s just … That’s not that long ago.” She paused to study me, her next words curious and a little worried. “Are you over her?”
A swift pang hit me square in the chest at the insecurity in her voice. I wanted nothing more than to reassure her Emer and I were over completely. There were no residual feelings. I held her gaze firmly. “I’m over her, Maggie,” I typed, hoping she saw the truth of it in my expression.
A small, relieved exhale escaped her. “Oh. Okay, good. But … what happened? Why did you two break up?”
What I really wanted to talk about was why she’d avoided relationships for seven years, but I expected she was uncomfortable with the topic, and I didn’t mind telling her about Emer. Enough time had passed it was no longer a sore subject.
“She cheated on me,” I answered simply, and empathy filled Maggie’s eyes.
“I’m so sorry. I was cheated on, too, by a guy I was seeing in my early twenties.”
“What happened with him?” I typed.
Maggie worried her lip, and I expected her to say she didn’t want to talk about it, but then she began, “His name was Brendan. We were only together for a few months. He worked as a janitor in an office building I used to clean. When I found out he’d been seeing another woman at the same time he was seeing me, I immediately called it off. To be honest, I was glad I discovered the truth before I developed any kind of serious feelings for him.”
I stared at her, surprised by the amount of information she’d just told me. I suspected Maggie didn’t open up like that very often. “He sounds like an idiot.”
She chuckled softly. “Yep, he pretty much was.” A silence, then, “What about Emer? Do you know who she cheated on you with?”
My lips flattened as I pressed them together. “No. She said it was a random hookup. A one-night stand. She wanted us to try and work through it, but I couldn’t. The way I felt for her changed completely. She’d broken our trust.”
“I can relate to that. When people hurt you … you just want them out of your life, so they don’t have the chance to do it again.”
There were shadows in her eyes, and I wondered who exactly she was talking about. Not the boyfriend who cheated on her. She said she hadn’t developed real feelings for him. Maybe a different boyfriend?
Then I remembered what she’d told me about her mother, how she’d kicked her out and made her homeless when she was only sixteen. That would certainly hurt. Hell, if my parents did that to me, I wasn’t sure I’d ever get over it.
We both fell quiet. I put my phone down and placed my arm around her shoulders. She rested her head on my chest, and I closed my eyes, savouring the small moment of just being with her. The heating had kicked in, and her small flat was toasty and warm. I kissed her temple, and she shifted closer. Sensing her gaze on me, I glanced down and found her staring at the scar on my throat.
I swallowed thickly when she reached out and gently feathered her fingers over it. Some kind of pain sliced through me, the tender moment making me remember for a second just how different my life might’ve turned out if it weren’t for the surgery I’d undergone as a child.
“How did this happen?” she whispered.
I picked up my phone and typed, “When I was young, I was very sick. They discovered a tumour on my vocal cords. It had to be surgically removed, but there was a complication during the surgery, and my vocal cords were irreparably damaged.”
“Shay,” she breathed, her eyes growing glassy. “My goodness. What age were you?”
“Six.”
“So, you could speak before then?”
I nodded, trying to picture that small boy, the one who had blindly trusted the adults around him, not knowing how everything was going to change for him after he entered that operating theatre. I knew the opposite would be worse. The tumour was cancerous and would’ve killed me if they didn’t remove it, but I still had to stop myself from wondering about alternate realities sometimes. Both my parents lived with a lot of guilt over what happened; I knew that. They wondered if things could’ve turned out differently if they’d chosen a different surgeon, a different day. But wondering about such things was pointless. What happened couldn’t be altered.
“You’re such a special person, Shay,” she said then, breaking me from my thoughts. “I hope you know that. The way you are, how you embrace your life, how close you are to your family and the wonderful art you create. I’m in awe of you.”
Her words had emotion catching in my throat. I cupped her cheek and pressed my lips to hers, the kiss chaste but full of feeling. I was so grateful for her, for how she just accepted me exactly as I was. She never seemed bothered or frustrated or embarrassed that I was different.
A thought occurred to me as I remembered what she’d told Rhys back in the car. I typed a question. “Will you take the job with that Jonathan Oaks guy?”
I couldn’t deny I was ill at ease at the thought of her working in a new place, meeting new people. My possessive side wanted to keep Maggie all to myself. I especially didn’t want her working for someone who Rhys knew to be an arsehole to his employees.
She blew out a heavy sigh. “I’m tempted to, yes. The money will make the world of difference for me and my brothers and sisters. This flat is so tiny. If I could afford a place where they could come and stay with me … that would be so great. But I’m hesitant after hearing what Rhys said. I don’t want to work for some power mad tyrant who’ll drive me to a nervous breakdown.”
“I don’t want that for you, either,” I said, leaving the other part unspoken. I didn’t want to lose her company every day on the bus. Seeing her was one of the reasons I got up every morning, and presumably, if she took the job, she wouldn’t be travelling to the same neighbourhood for work anymore.
“I’m going to have to give it some careful consideration,” she said before falling quiet.
I held her for a few moments, then her stomach rumbled loudly, and she laughed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. I grinned at her.
“Guess I’m a little hungry. Mind if I order in some food?”
I shook my head and she smiled. “Great. How do you feel about Greek gyros?”
“I love gyros,” I typed into my phone, and she looked pleased.
“Great. I’ll order enough for both of us, then.”
***
The following day, I was doing a walk-through of the hotel lobby and reception area when Rhys paged me, requesting I come see him in his office. I made the short walk there and knocked on the door before he called for me to come in.
“Shay, how did things go with Maggie last night?” he asked when I entered.
I shot him a look and signed, I know you didn’t call me here to chit chat about my love life. I had no interest in talking to Rhys about how Maggie and I had sat in her tiny flat, eating Greek food and getting to know each other for hours. I’d hated having to leave, but I knew spending the night was out of the question. There was a fragility in Maggie, and I didn’t want to push her for more than she was ready to give.
Rhys chuckled. “Fair enough. Just thought you might like to talk about it. Anyway, I wanted to ask a favour.”
Go for it.
“You know how I do freelance work on the side sometimes?” I nodded. “Well, I’ve been hired to do the security at a private party this month. Super VIP guest list. I need about five people. The pay is two hundred each for the night. Are you in?”
Sure, just let me know the details, and I’ll be there.
“Perfect. I’ll text you.”
I was about to leave when I noticed a new photograph on the shelf behind his desk. Rhys had a few photographs, one of him and Stephanie, and another of him and his mother, my aunt, who passed away when Rhys was in his early twenties. The new picture showed Rhys when he was a chubby teenager, surrounded by his group of friends. There were his best friends, the brothers, Tristan and Derek Balfe, their younger sister, Nuala, and then another girl I didn’t recognise. She was pretty with dark brown hair and hazel eyes.
New picture?I signed at him, gesturing to the framed photo.
Rhys glanced behind him for a second, then nodded. “Ah, yeah. Derek gave it to me. We were only about nineteen in that one, I think.”
Who’s the brunette?
Again, his attention went to the picture. Some emotion passed over his features before he quickly disguised it and cleared his throat. “That’s Tristan and Derek’s cousin from the States, Charli. She came to visit them one summer.”
She’s pretty.
Rhys ran a hand over his jaw, looking tired suddenly. “Yeah, she is. Or, well, she was. I haven’t seen her in a long time.”
Something told me there was more to the story he didn’t want to get into, so I left it at that. Well, I better get back, I signed. Let me know about the job.
“Will do,” Rhys replied.
That evening, I sat with Maggie on the bus, and we talked through the app. I didn’t care that some of the other passengers stared at us curiously. I enjoyed talking with her too much to be self-conscious about the method we had to use.
“I need to grab some groceries,” she said when we got off the bus a little while later. “Want to come with me? Then we can go back to my place, and I can cook us dinner.”
I nodded, thrilled she was inviting me back again. I loved being in her space, loved the intimacy of being alone with her, no one to interrupt us. My momentary high was shot down when I realised which supermarket she was headed to, my previous place of employment and also where my ex, Emer, still worked.
I’d been a security guard there for five years before we broke up, and I had to leave. I couldn’t keep going to a place every day where I had to see someone I used to love and trust. Someone who shattered that love and trust into a million tiny pieces.
What I told Maggie last night was true, I was over Emer. What I didn’t say was I still avoided all the places I knew she might be because the idea of running into her was uncomfortable for me. I didn’t want to be her friend or have her try to be in my life again at all. I just wasn’t interested in any of that because if I couldn’t trust her as my girlfriend, then I couldn’t trust her as a friend. And I knew what Emer was like. She’d try to mend bridges and convince me we should still hang out even if we weren’t together anymore. That was the kind of person she was. She didn’t like people dropping out of her life forever. She went to the trouble of staying in touch with every friend she’d ever made, from primary school through to adulthood.
I wasn’t like that. If I grew apart from someone, then I let them go. And I’d let her go. I had no interest in returning to the past, and if I saw her, and she tried to convince me to be friends, I’d have to be rude and say no. Then her eyes would grow watery, her lip might tremble, and I’d feel like a piece of shit for rejecting her olive branch.
My attention returned to Maggie. If I told her about Emer and how I didn’t want to run into her, then she might think it was because I was lying about being over her. So, I made an impulsive decision when I caught her wrist, sending her a look of apology as I showed her a message on my phone.
I just remembered Dad said he was cooking dinner for me, and he hates wasting food.
I didn’t enjoy lying to her and regretted it immediately. As always, it took a while for her to read my message. The people and traffic on the street were too noisy for me to simply use the text to speech app, and I’d already stowed away my air pods. Anxiety thrummed through me, and it was the first time I’d ever felt impatient about her inability to read quickly. I immediately hated myself for the reaction. Maggie glanced up then, handing me back the phone and saying, “That’s fine. I can cook for you some other time.”
The complete understanding and trust on her face caused guilt to stab me in the gut. She had zero suspicions I was lying. I sent her a regretful look because I wanted nothing more than to spend the evening with her again, but I had to get away before—
“Shay, is that you?” a gentle voice asked, and I grimaced, turning to find the woman I’d gone out of my way to avoid the past year standing before me.