Read Give Me Strength Online

Authors: Kate McCarthy

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary

Give Me Strength (4 page)

Oh God. I didn’t know. Was I already reverting
back to my old ways, drinking and sleeping with anyone just to feel
wanted? Because that wasn’t the person I wanted to be anymore. My
throat felt thick and my eyes burned as he waited for me to reply.
He stood there so patiently, so utterly beautiful, but all he
wanted was a warm, willing body. Any woman in this bar would jump
at the chance.

“Excuse me,” I mumbled. “I have to get back to
my friend.”

I turned but my heel caught on the stool next to
me, and in slow motion I watched my glass of wine pitch all down
the front of his shirt.

“Oh God,” I cried.
Stupid. You are so
stupid!
“I’m so sorry.”

I stared in horror at his sopping shirt. The
cold liquid made it cling to his skin, revealing muscled ridges
that begged to be touched. In that moment the absolute one positive
I could gain from this disaster was that if this were a wet T-shirt
competition, his rivals would be eating dirt.

He glanced downwards at the mess, brushing away
the wet with his hands. “Vince?” he called out over my shoulder.
“Towel, mate.”

I could hear his friends behind him giving him
shit as he peeled it back from his chest with his thumb and
forefinger. They must have thought I’d been insulted and done it
deliberately.

My first,
and last,
embarrassing foray
into the world of socialisation was now complete, and in that
moment I prayed really hard for Dr. Who to arrive with the Tardis,
but guess what? He didn’t show. So I sat my now empty wine glass
down, grabbed at the towel Vince proffered, and handed it over.

“I’m really sorry,” I mumbled, averting my
eyes.

I turned in a sudden rush to leave, but a firm,
warm hand grabbed my arm. I paused and met determined green eyes.
“Leaving me?”

You should only be so lucky, Mr. whomever you
are. “I’m really sorry,” I whispered. “I can’t do this.”

His brow furrowed, confusion clouding his eyes
as the towel he held hovered over his chest. “Can’t do what?”

“Life,” I muttered under my breath. “It wasn’t
meant for me.”

I spun on my heel, nodded to Lucy that I was
heading for the front doors, and I left.

***

 

 

“Running away?”

I turned and pressed my lips together. Oh God.
There stood the hot guy from the bar, damp shirt and all.
Why
are you standing outside with me? Isn’t it enough that I threw my
drink all over you and ran away?
Perhaps I was entertainment
and he wanted to see what amazing feat I could perform for my next
trick.

“Absolutely,” I answered honestly.

“Me too.”

My eyes widened at the thought of him running
away from the fluffy, botoxed beauties inside. “You are?”

He nodded seriously and looked down at his soggy
shirt. “I bought someone a drink, and they threw it at me. Seems
like a good excuse to ditch my friends in there and head home.” He
looked back up and chuckled when he caught the flush heating my
cheeks. “Share a cab?”

Before I could speak, he lifted his arm, let out
a piercing whistle, and a passing cab squealed to a stop. It must
have been a slow night because I’d only seen that happen in the
movies. Still, I was impressed. Lucy and I hailed a cab together
once on a night out a long time ago, and we’d practically had to
stand in the middle of the road at the risk of becoming human speed
bumps. Even then, I was sure the driver only stopped because he
thought Lucy was about to throw herself on the hood.

He opened the car door and looked at me
expectantly. I tucked the clutch tightly under my arm and glanced
back at the bar before looking back at him, weighing my
options.


What were you hoping for?”


You.”

Was there really an option? Because my mouth was
saying okay, my legs were walking towards the car, and I was
climbing in and scooting to the other side before I could even
think.

He slid in beside me and pulled the door shut.
His bulk crowded me, making me hyperaware of how close his leg
rested near mine.

“Where do you live?”

“Campsie.”

“Campsie, mate,” he said to the cab driver.

Remembering my speedy arrival at the bar with
Lucy, I hastily buckled my seat belt and sat back in my seat as the
driver roared us off into the night.

“Campsie’s a bit of a hike for a cab ride,” he
said.

This was not news. Rick and Lucy were supposed
to be my ride. Now I’d need to take out a small loan to cover the
cab fare home.

“Do you mind if I get dropped off at
Woolloomooloo first? I need to get out of this wet shirt.”

“Um…sure,” I said with a nod and turned to stare
out the window, not wanting him to see my obvious
disappointment.

“Woolloomooloo now, mate,” he said to the
cabbie. The driver waved his hand in acknowledgement and changed
direction.

I grabbed my phone from my clutch and messaged
Lucy that I was already cabbing it home. It buzzed soon after in
response, but I tucked it away without reading the message.
Instead, I risked a peek to my left and found the man’s eyes
appraising me intently, as though trying to figure me out.

“So…” I tried not to fidget under the scrutiny.
“What do you do?”

That was witty.
Great start, Quinn.

“I’m a consultant,” he said with a wave of his
hand as though it wasn’t important. “What about you?”

“What about me?” I grabbed hold of the armrest
as the driver spun us around a tight turn. The manoeuvre had him
leaning slightly towards me, and I inhaled the spicy scent of his
skin underneath the haze of wine I’d drowned him in.

His eyes crinkled in a smile. “What do you
do?”

“I’m uh… in between jobs at the moment.”

“So what do you do when you’re not in between
jobs?” I focused on his lips as he spoke and realised that I wasn’t
hearing a word he was saying. I bit my lip, flushing when his eyes
lowered to my mouth.

“Sorry?”

He repeated his question.

“Um…I just finished uni doing business
management actually, but that was part time. During the day I
worked full time as a receptionist.”

Long days of work and late nights of university
by correspondence had given me my degree—one thing in life that was
working out for me because in two days I had a job interview lined
up as assistant manager to Jamieson, one of the hottest up and
coming bands in the country.

He directed the cabbie towards his address and
then turned to me. “Sounds like you’re a busy girl. Who did you
work for?”

“Jettison Records,” I replied.

His eyebrows flew up in apparent surprise. “Oh
yeah? That’s—”

The driver squealed around another tight corner.
Lost in a pair of green eyes, I wasn’t holding on for dear life. My
head cracked into the side window with a painful thud.

“Ouch.” I winced.

The man cursed under his breath. “Are you
okay?”

He held my cheeks gently with his fingers,
tilting my head to check for an injury. My heart tripped over at
his concern and the tenderness of his touch.

“Godammit, mate,” he growled angrily at the cab
driver. “You bastards need to learn how to slow the fuck down.”

The driver squealed to a stop out the front of a
renovated block of warehouse apartments and said, “Time is money,
man.”

“Come on.” The man threw some money at driver,
and then he unbuckled my seatbelt and hauled me out of the car as
though I weighed a feather. “I’m not sending you home with this
speed demon.”

He took my hand, lacing our fingers and led me
towards the entrance of the building. “I’d drive you home…” he
said, punching in some numbers on the security panel and the door
unlocked. “…but I’m probably over the limit.”

One minute I was pitching my drink at a random
hot guy, the next I found myself about to enter his apartment. How
on earth did that happen? He pushed the door open, and I tugged my
hand free. He could be a serial killer for all I knew. “Well that’s
okay. I can just get another cab.”

He paused and looked at me, concern furrowing
his brow. “You think I’m gonna leave you out here wandering the
city streets waiting for a cab to pass by?”

I bit my lip and scanned the dark, cold streets.
They were quiet and empty and in no way appealing. I turned to face
him, about to tell him I’d just ring for one when he exhaled
audibly, his eyes burning into mine, and said, “You’ve gotta stop
doing that.”

“Doing what?” I asked breathlessly.

He let go of the door, and it closed with an
audible click before we’d even stepped inside. “Biting your lip
like that.”

He took both my hands in his and inched closer
until the heat of his body chased away the chill in the air.

“Oh,” I muttered.

He spoke, his eyes concentrating on my lips, his
voice low. “Your mouth gets all red and swollen until I want to
lick it better.”

My breath hitched because it looked like he was
about to do just that. He let go of my hands and cupped my face
gently, his body slowly angling mine towards the red brick wall of
the building. I stumbled in my navy shoes, and he cursed, his hands
shifting to grip my hips tightly.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

“My fault,” I breathed as his touch burned right
though the pretty satin sheen of my dress and deep into my skin. My
chest fluttered up and down as he used his bulk to crowd me into
the wall. “I ahh…should probably get going.”

“Uh huh.”

His chest pressed against me, and I stopped
breathing. I licked my lips and he groaned and leaned in, ducking
his head until his mouth hovered a mere breath apart from mine.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispered against my
lips.

Before I could even finish saying “please,” his
hold on my hips tightened and his lips crushed down on mine. He
wasn’t sweet or gentle. His touch was hard and rough, as though he
needed his lips on mine to breathe. I moaned when one of his hands
moved from my hip to fist in my hair, tilting my head as he pressed
me into the wall.

When he pulled back, we were both panting.

“Jesus,” he gasped, his green eyes wide and lips
swollen as he swallowed.

I had a second to breathe before he slammed his
mouth back on mine, pulling back only long enough to breathe
against my lips and ask, “Do you want to come in?”

Do I what? I was sure he was asking me something
but I was lost. His body was too busy reminding me I was alive and
I wanted more.

 

 

The early light of dawn brought me awake with
a thumping head and a groan. My eyes felt rusted shut, and I
squinted them open. Without care at the pain, they flared wide when
I took in my surrounds. I was lying naked in an enormous bed with
sheets the colour of tropical water. I turned left and caught a
white wash bedside table in thick timber, a wallet, coins, and
random receipts littering its surface. Oh my God, where the hell
was I?

I turned to my right and there he was—the
drought breaker. The holy fuck me gorgeous guy. The man I’d dazzled
with my lack of wit and wine glass handling skills. He was on his
stomach, one arm curled under the pillow with the sheet barely
covering his firm backside. I ran my eyes up the tanned, muscular
back to the wide, beautiful tattooed wings of an eagle that spanned
his shoulders. I’d never seen anything like it: the detail, the raw
beauty in the colours, the haunting shadows. I liked looking at him
while he was sleeping. The hardness in his features appeared almost
peaceful. There was no trace of the saddened expression I’d caught
a glimpse of last night. Perhaps it had simply been my imagination
running away with me.

Floozy!
I shouted silently.

The mute scream reverberated painfully in my
head until I remembered last night and how much care he’d taken
with giving my body more pleasure than I’d ever known. I felt the
shame die away at the memory. The man was…wait a minute. I didn’t
get his name. I let a guy take me back to his place, and I slept
with him, literally, and I didn’t know his name!

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