A Bad Bit Nice (16 page)

Em gasped. “I didn’t think he was the type to kiss and tell! Oh God, now I’m even more embarrassed. I can’t believe he told you! “

Rory laughed out loud at that outburst. “Mick didn’t, Em, but you just did.”

“We didn’t have intercourse.”

“Jaysus. Okay, I am going to stop that right there. Please, never say the word ‘intercourse’ again. I never wanted details about Mick’s love life before because it was with my sister. I am going to adopt the same stance with you. Deal?”

“Oh my God, deal. I don’t need you knowing particulars about everything in my life.”

Em rubbed the back of her neck, where a tension headache had settled ever since the run-in with Tripp.

“So, Rory, what should I do?”

“Do you care for Mick as much as I think you do?”

“Yes, I do. I think I might care for him more than I’ve cared for anyone.”

“Well, then you need to tell him. Stop being stubborn, or ideally, turn that stubbornness on him and don’t let him continue to be a scared eejit.”

Em teared up and moved to hug Rory and he let her.

“Okay, girlie. I’ll let you be mushy for 90 more seconds then you need to go home and deal with our lonely bull.”

Get it together, man.

Mick chastised himself for losing his temper over the inconsequential jackassery of one of his clients. He had thrown the phone at the wall and now had no telephone and a hole in the living room drywall.

Actually, he knew the arrogant prick wasn’t the reason he had lost his temper. It was this whole Em situation. He was beginning to suspect that she had gotten further under his skin than he’d realized.

Except for the creaking pipes of early morning showers, he hadn’t heard his pretty little neighbor at all this week. He knew that Em had been working insane hours, probably to avoid him.

God, that was arrogant. No wonder she doesn’t want to see me.

Mick ran his hands over his face and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He hadn’t been this upset in literally years, and this afternoon’s little chat with Em’s mouthy best friend hadn’t helped things one bit.

He had royally fucked up, and not just with Em. The fact that he hadn’t heard from Rory told him that he probably agreed with Ashley’s label of Mick as an asshole, which meant that Ashley was correct in her assessment. It wouldn’t be the first time that Rory had gone radio silent when he knew that Mick wouldn’t or couldn’t handle a hard truth.

Mick needed to man up and either stake his claim on Em or cut her loose, for both of their sakes.

Mick pulled at his hair.
Fuck.

So deep in his pity party/angst session, Mick didn’t hear the knock on the door. The sound of Em’s voice was what finally broke through his fog.

“Mick, you asshat, open the fucking door! I know you’re in there. I can hear you muttering to yourself and thrashing around.”

Still angry, though he didn’t know if it was at himself, at Em, at Tripp, or at anyone and everyone that had ever let him down, Mick tore the door open.

“What?” He was breathing hard, a wild look in his eyes. His hair looked like a rat’s nest. Em, not waiting for an invitation to come in, stepped through the door.

“Well?” she asked, impatiently tapping her foot.

Mick was stunned into silence at the ferocious look on her face. “Well what?”

Em stepped into him, nose to nose, or rather, nose to chest because of their height difference. She looked up at him with narrowed eyes, and poked her index finger into his chest. “Well, are you going to kiss me or not? Because I’ve had just about enough waiting around for you to quit being a chickenshit. I know it’s only been a week or so, but goddammit, you’re super smart, crazy caring, and hot like fire and I think I could love you, so you need to kiss me or tell me to utterly and completely fuck off. Either way, put me out of my misery.”

Mick laughed out loud at her fierceness.

“You think this is funny, big man? Don’t you dare push me, Michael Brennan! You do not want to see me angry!” She poked at his chest again.

“‘Michael Brennan?’ Who are you, Rory’s Mam?”

“Michael…” Em growled.

Mick grinned widely, then backed Em into the wall, lifting her up where they were eye-to-eye. Em threw her arms around his neck and wrapped her legs around his waist.

“Michael?” she repeated, more gently and softly this time, still nose to nose with him. She couldn’t resist running her fingers through his beard.

“Em, love, I am going to kiss you so thoroughly that you won’t know your name. I’m going to kiss you on your mouth and on your neck, and eat your sweet cunt until you’re breathless with need.” Em gasped at Mick’s dirty mouth.
Oh my God, that’s hot.
“I’m going to kiss those beautiful breasts, and that luscious ass, and then I’m going do it all over again.”

“Less talking, more kissing, Michael.”

“B’y, I love it when you’re bossy.”

“You haven’t kissed me yet.”

“Stop yer yammering and I will.”

She did and he did.

With her back still to the wall, Em ground her hips into Mick with a desperation she had never experienced before. Her lips were locked with Mick’s, their tongues lashing furiously. Mick moved his hot mouth to her neck and suckled it. Em groaned his name and ground her hips harder against him. He pulled his head away from her neck and looked into her eyes.

“What’s your name?”

Em frowned at the interruption. What the actual fuck? “Em. Ermengarde.”

“Hm. I don’t seem to be doing my job as effectively as promised.” He nibbled on her ear, teasing it with his tongue.

Em threw her head back, giving Mick more access to her lovely throat. He inhaled her scent deeply. He pushed her up further along the wall so he could run his nose along her cleavage.

“God, you smell so fucking good.”

He peppered kisses along the swell of her ample bosom. She pulled his face closer, grazing his ear with her teeth. Freeing one hand from her behind, he untied the bow at her collar and unbuttoned her blouse. He ran his tongue along the scalloped edge of her bra, then lightly bit at a swollen nipple that was trying to push through the lace.

He moved his hand down between them, pressing his knuckle against that hot space between her legs. She jerked against him, opening her eyes wide and emitting a surprised “Oh!” He chuckled and kissed her deeply. They stared into each other’s eyes, pressed tightly to one another. He ground his hip into her and bit her neck.

“Oh, fuck me,” she moaned.

“Hm, not quite yet, girlie. I haven’t tasted you.” He dragged his tongue up the side of her neck.

Mick moved away from the wall, carrying her, his hands cradling her bottom, kissing her all the while. He lowered her onto the couch and kneeled on the floor before her as he continued to kiss her while he undid the button and zipper of her jeans. He ran his thumbs along the soft skin of her belly, grazing the top of her panties. Moving his hands to her hips, Mick slid his fingers against the soft skin there while their tongues continued their exploration.

He eased her jeans over her hips and removed them. He nuzzled his face against her leg, kissing her from one knee up to her panties and the hot space between her legs, and then down to the other knee. He fluttered his fingers over her hot sex, smiling at the wetness seeping through her panties. He placed his nose in her apex and inhaled deeply. He groaned with desire and kissed her through the thin material.

“Em, these are totally sexy, but they have got to come off.” He pulled her panties over her hips and propped a pillow behind her back, then he placed a soft kiss on her now unclothed mound.

“God, I am so glad that you’re not bare.” He dipped his nose between her folds and inhaled deeply. “Your curls trap your scent and taste so much better.”

He pulled one of her legs over his shoulder and again buried his face in her pussy. He thrust his tongue into her core and took long, languorous licks between her folds. He pressed his nose against her sensitive nub, rubbing it gently.

“God, you’re so wet for me.” He invaded her with his tongue again.

When his thick middle finger found its way into her center, Em finally made a sound, purring with pleasure, arching her back into the hardness of Mick’s fingering. He slipped a second finger inside her and curled them in a beckoning motion, hitting her special spot and causing her hips to buck. Mick curled his fingers again and clamped his mouth on her clitoris and sucked and teased with his tongue. He relentlessly fucked her with his fingers and mouth, his free hand alternately gripping her hip or pinching her nipple.

Breathing hard, Em opened her eyes to gaze at the gorgeous man who was hard at work between her legs. She gripped his head in her hands, running her fingers through his hair and gently tugged his head away from her softness. She ran her fingers over his eyebrows and down his cheeks, lingering over the pouty bottom lip the peeked through his thick beard. Mick’s fingers continued to stroke inside her while her hips ground into them. He rubbed his bearded jaw against the sensitive skin of her inner thigh and she keened with pleasure. His eyes locked on hers, Mick returned his mouth to her folds.

“God, I love looking at you,” she gasped.

Mick chuckled and slipped a third finger inside, stretching her softness around their girth. Em’s breathing sped up, shallowing as she begged Mick to fuck her.

“I want to come on my face and fingers first, Em. I’ve got to taste your climax.” He slid three fingers in and out and pressed his other hand against her pubis, palming her nub and circling it with his tongue. Em remembered the girth of that beautiful cock of his and was thankful that she had some preparation.

She groaned with need and Mick asked, “Are you ready?” his words rumbling against her softness. Em, wild-eyed with lust, licked her lips and nodded.

Mick smiled and said, “Well then, come on,” as he curled his fingers and thrust his tongue inside her. She exploded, crying his name. Her pussy throbbed against his mouth and gripped his fingers.

After, he sweetly kissed her softness, resting his face against her mound. He kissed the swirl of tattoos that danced around her hips. “You’re just full of surprises, Em. I love these. So, so beautiful.”

He felt a tug on his hair. “I need to kiss your mouth, Michael.” He rose up on his knees and kissed her deeply. She could taste and smell herself on his tongue and in his beard.

Smiling shyly, she petted his face. He grinned, then picked her up off the couch and threw her over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold. She giggled and wiggled, prompting him to lightly smack her bare ass and kiss her naked hip while stroking her exposed, wet softness, resulting in more giggling and wiggling. He kicked his bedroom door open and tossed her on his bed.

“Janey Mac, b’y, but you’re a bad bit nice.”

Em wasn’t exactly sure what that meant, but seeing Mick’s look of appreciation, she assumed it was a compliment. She smiled shyly, but raised her knees and spread her legs for Mick to get a better view.

Em watched him, her own eyes roaming over lean body, lingering on the very apparent tenting of his jeans. “And you’re definitely overdressed.”

She touched herself as motivation for Mick to disrobe, her sex tender from Mick’s earlier enthusiastic attention. She winced a bit but hoped that Mick wouldn’t notice.

“Did I hurt you?” Mick’s fingers froze on his fly and his face clouded.

“You didn’t hurt me at all. I’ve never felt better.” She kneeled on the bed and pulled him to her. “You’re still overdressed, sugar. Let me help you.” She got rid of Mick’s pants and boxer briefs in record time. “Now we’re even.”

Em eyed his erection jutting from the edge of his shirt. She motioned him to come closer to the bed. She ran her hands across his hips and placed a kiss on the head, flicking his slit with her tongue, tasting the salty flavor of his arousal. Em finished unbuttoning her blouse. She shrugged it off her shoulders and tossed it on the floor. She wore only her bra.

She knew her body wasn’t perfect, but tried to appreciate the fact that Mick hadn’t remarked on it earlier. Em hoped he would be too preoccupied with the swirling tattoos on her hips and her other bits to pay attention to her imperfections.

Em took a deep breath and removed her bra. She lay back on the bed, completely naked. Mick drank her with his eyes. Her lush breasts heaved with each breath, the rosy areolas the size of half dollars. She rested back on her elbows, one knee bent and her legs open so he could see all of her. The pose of her body seemed confident and relaxed, but Em’s expression betrayed her insecurity.

Mick’s eyes took in every bit her naked skin. His eyes traveled over her heavy breasts and over her soft belly and hips.

“I know I’m probably not what you’re used to seeing,” she said softly.

Mick huffed a laugh. It had been over 20 years since he had seen a naked woman in person, and Em’s body was just that: womanly. Her voluptuous curves were beautiful.

“I sees what I likes and I likes what I sees, Em,” he reassured her, but didn’t move from the end of the bed.

Em frowned and sat up, covering herself with a pillow. “Hey, sugar, what’s wrong? Please tell me.”

Mick continued to stand motionless. Em got up and went to him. She led him over to his bed. “Please, let me see all of you, Michael. I want to look at you the way you’re looking at me. Please.”

Mick’s eyes were locked on Em’s as he removed his shirt and dropped it with the other clothes on the bedroom floor. Em got off the bed and slowly walked around him, putting her hands on his torso, touching his tattoos. Her hands drifted across the swoops of the large black tattoo that covered his back. Up close, she could see the probable source of his trepidation. Tears welled in her eyes.

“Mick, what are these marks, sweetheart?” Her fingers drifted over the indented and puckered flesh.

“They’re exactly what they look like, Em.” His voice was quiet but bitter.

“What they look like are scars and burns, Mick. Who did this to you?” Her voice wavered as she examined his back more closely. When he didn’t answer, she kissed every scar and welt on his back, and when she wasn’t tall enough to reach, she transferred her kisses to her fingers and pressed them to the marks.

She stepped in front of him. She ran her fingers over the tattooed portrait that covered his ribcage: a pregnant Grace holding babies. On Mick’s left pectoral were the names of his dead.