Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
The rest of the week passed slowly. Maeve dragged her illness out for three more days.
Sean came over on Tuesday and Thursday nights, but he wouldn’t take her anywhere. If she was too sick to go to school, she was too sick to go out. They sat on the couch together, mostly watching the news with her da as the men discussed the unrest sweeping the country.
Despite her best efforts to look wan and sickly, Sean didn’t believe a word of it and told her so. She sat close to him, rubbed his arm and rested her head on his shoulder as she tried to remember to sniffle every once in a while.
“Don’t think you’re foolin’ anyone, lass,” he snorted, his eyes glued to the television.
Maeve just snuggled closer. Whenever her da was paying particular attention to a piece of news, she ran her hand up and down Sean’s thigh, feeling the muscles jump under her touch.
He shifted position several times, but she stuck with him, teasing and tormenting until he pushed her away and grabbed a throw pillow, putting it on his lap.
Maeve smiled and began inching back to his side.
“You think I won’t spank you here?” he asked when her father went to answer a phone call.
“You won’t,” she assured him, getting on her knees and putting her arms around his neck.
“My da would have somethin’ to say about that. He might even call off our engagement if he thinks you’re abusin’ me.” She grinned slyly.
Sean grabbed her arm and pulled her over his lap so fast she oomphed when her tummy hit the pillow. Three incredibly hard smacks rained down on the seat of her tight jeans, and she was back upright and seated next to him before she could say a word.
“What was that?” her ma asked, poking her head out of the kitchen doorway.
“I didn’t hear anythin’,” Sean replied politely, his eyes on the TV. “It must have been somethin’ out back.”
“Oh,” Maeve moaned, rubbing her bottom.
“Aye, oh. I expect you to be back in school tomorrow. You’ve strung this fake illness out long enough.”
“I’ll have to see how I’m feelin’ in the mornin’,” she said, raising her chin in challenge.
“I already know how you’ll be feelin’,” he informed her sternly.
“Are you clairvoyant?” she scoffed.
“I don’t need to be. There are only two possible ways this can go. Either you will be in school, or I’ll find you and slap your sweet little bottom every step of the way between here and St. Patrick’s.”
Maeve gasped. Sean set the pillow aside and turned to face her. His hands took her shoulders, pulling her to him and tucked her against his chest. Sliding his fingers into her long hair, he forced her head back and claimed her lips in the most passionate kiss she’d ever had.
“Don’t push me, little darlin’,” he warned, his breath hot and moist against her lips. “I’m goin’ away, but I’ll be back soon enough and I better not be hearin’ of any shenanigans in my absence.” Kissing her eyes closed, he hugged her tight.
“Sean, I—”
“Hush,” he whispered. “Be a good lass while I’m gone. I can think of more pleasant activities we can enjoy when I get back than to spank the bejesus out of you, but I won’t hesitate to do so. Mind me, girl.”
“O’Malley,” she asked, touching his cheek, “why do you make me feel this way?”
“What way?”
“All breathless and mushy, my thoughts buzzin’ round like bees in a hive. I want you to kiss me, but at the same time I want to slap the crap out of you.”
Sean chuckled softly. “I’ll take the kissin’ if you don’t mind.
’Tis because you’re startin’ to want me,” he sighed in her ear, catching the lobe and nipping gently.
“Really want me, in the way a woman wants a man, which is far different from the crush you had on me at fourteen,” he teased her, grinning widely.
“Of course, you don’t want me nearly as badly as I want you, but you will, darlin’, you will. ”
“How can you be so sure?”
“I feel how you respond to me. Your heart speeds up when you’re tryin’ to annoy your nosey neighbors,” he told her. “Your body softens in my arms, and while you don’t know it, all these little sounds come from your throat, which I love.”
“What kind of sounds?”
“Sweet tiny moans and sighs; sometimes you almost purr.”
“I do not!”
“Aye, you do, and one day I’ll make you howl with pleasure,” he promised.
Maeve’s eyebrows rose in disbelief. “If you say so, O’Malley,” she snorted.
“I say so, and don’t think for one moment I don’t recall the beginnin’ of this conversation,” he advised, biting her lower lip gently before soothing it with his tongue. “We were talkin’ about what a good lass you’re goin’ to be while I’m away.”
“No,” she drawled. “You were talkin’ about that. I was thinkin’ about it.”
Sean slid his arm around her and grasped what seemed like her entire bottom in one hand.
“You’d best do more than think about it, love, if you know what’s good for you,” he growled, nuzzling her neck.
Giggling, Maeve pushed him away and collapsed back on the couch.
“And you’d best hurry home, O’Malley. Could be someone else could make those little noises come out of my throat too,” she taunted.
Sean stood, towering over her, his face a mask of indecision.
The tingling in her bottom surprised her, and she wiggled a bit as her face flushed.
He wanted to spank her; no doubt about it, and she scooted further away.
Thankfully her da chose that moment to return to the room and she heaved a sigh of relief.
“Come along, you cheeky hooligan. Walk me to the door,” Sean ordered, plucking her from the couch. “I won’t see you for a while,” he continued, towing her behind him from the room.
“Have a safe journey, Sean,” Mr. Donahue called after them. “Good luck with the job.”
“Thank you, sir,” Sean replied, pinning Maeve to the front door once out of her da’s sight. He lifted her and trapped her with his body. Instinctively her legs wrapped round his waist, her arms around his neck. Both of his big hands supported her bottom, and a burst of heat flashed through her.
“Oh,” she moaned, wide-eyed before pushing her breasts against his chest. His lips trailed along her cheek, and she tipped her head, allowing him access to her throat. Warm little kisses became nips, and then sucks which grew stronger as she clutched him tighter and quivered.
Abruptly, he set her on her feet, catching her when she swayed to the left.
“I’ll call you from the States and let you know what’s goin’ on,” he told her, bending one more time to claim her lips.
Taking her shoulders in his hands, he leaned her against the wall to steady her. In the next instant, he was gone.
“I think I’ll go up to bed now,” she mumbled, dazed as she slowly went up the stairs. Damn, maybe he really could make her howl with pleasure.
* * *
She went to school on Friday, made sure Sean’s brother John spotted her outside and then returned home. On Fridays, her ma had her hair done and did the marketing. She’d be gone most of the day.
Going up to her room, she exchanged her uniform for a brown and rust plaid pleated skirt, rust colored sweater and matching knee high boots.
Pinning her hair up in a French twist to make her look older, she applied what seemed like suitable make-up for a twenty-something girl and left the house through the back door.
Two blocks over, she headed to the heart of town.
There were several merchants with signs in the window advertising for help.
The butcher was out. She didn’t fancy working with dead, bloody animal bits.
Nor did she want somewhere she was sure to run into girls from school if she could help it.
Most of the upscale clothing shops were full of female employees who would spot her inexperience and youth quickly.
No, it had to be somewhere small and out of the way.
She stopped for a drink and a sandwich at the luncheon counter in the department store and nearly fainted when she saw Mrs. O’Malley making her purchases.
Sliding down in her seat, she looked away, but a huge mirror at the back of the store reflected the scene back at her.
For a moment, she could have sworn Sean’s ma looked directly at her, but she finished paying and left the store without saying anything.
Sucking down her drink, she left half her sandwich behind and hurried from the store.
Just when her feet were beginning to hurt and she was ready to give up, she spotted a small sign in the window of the chemist.
“How old are you?” the elderly man asked, squinting at her through thick glasses.
“Twenty,” Maeve replied, keeping her fingers crossed behind her back.
“So you’ve graduated?”
“Aye, two years ago.”
“Well, I don’t fancy putting an ad in the paper so I guess I’ll give you a go.
You’ll be working in the back, typing labels and such and answering the phone.
Wear your hair up, it will be under a cap anyway, and I’ll have a white coat for you, but still dress in a ladylike manner.
And for heaven’s sake, wear some sensible shoes.
I’ve had more lassies quit complaining about standing on their feet all day than I can shake a stick at.
“Don’t fret about what you know and don’t know. I’ll teach you as we go along and your duties will increase with time.”
“When do I start and what time should I be here?” she asked.
“Six days a week, Monday through Saturday from nine to three. You may get more hours as time goes on, but, on the other hand, one day I may just up and decide to sell the darn place in which case you’ll be out of a job. That’s the best I can offer, young lady.”
“I’ll take it,” Maeve said firmly. “See you tomorrow.”
“I hope so,” he called as she walked away. “You wouldn’t be the first lass I’ve hired who never showed up,” he grumbled.
She just about skipped home and made it to the house as her ma was carrying groceries in the back door. Bolting up the front steps, she flew upstairs and changed into jeans and a tee-shirt before going downstairs to help.