His Wicked Celtic Kiss (6 page)

Lorcan let go of her hands and raised his to her flushed cheeks. The feel of her soft, silky skin.
All
of this lay beyond his experience. Their gazes met and held. Her eyes were wide and bright with life and feeling. A cool breeze blew a strand of hair across her forehead. He gently pulled it back and tucked it behind her ear. Julie sighed, closed her eyes, and leaned into his touch. Her lips, so inviting. Lorcan stilled, and then tangled his fingers in her lovely hair. Julie's eyes were still closed, her head back as if in the throes of ecstasy. His breathing became a little uneven, so did hers.

Lorcan wanted her, but it was more than the lust roaring through his body. His insides thrummed, as if all his senses were on high alert. Everything was homed in and concentrating on this woman in front of him, as if the rest the world no longer existed. His heart banged hard and fast against his rib cage. He wanted to press her coral pink lips against his. He wanted to mold her body to his, revel in her softness, and let her feel how she affected him. Lorcan backed her up to the side of the building. They stood in shadow and would not be seen. Julie gasped at the sudden movement; her eyes popped open. He had to kiss her. He had to do it before someone came out and broke this ... spell.

“We're alone, Julie.” He hardly recognized his own voice, huskier and deeper than he'd ever heard it. He didn't wait for a reply. He lowered his head and kissed her thoroughly. Lorcan licked at the sides of her mouth. “Let me in, darlin',” he moaned.

She raised her arms and circled them about his neck and let him in. Pure warmth, feckin' paradise. At first, he sensed her reluctance, as if she had not been kissed much, so he took the lead and plunged in deeper, tasting, licking, and sucking. Sweet Jaysus, he was right. Julie Denison was a passionate woman, for she met every thrust of his probing tongue with an innocent enthusiasm. A slight buzzing filled his hearing. He wanted more. So much more. He wanted it all. He wanted ... everything.

Lorcan leaned in closer, pressing his body against hers. Julie let out a long, sexy whimper that nearly had him spilling in his trousers. Lorcan pressed his erection against her again and again. He wanted to hear her moan. With every thrust and roll of his hips, she did. He reached around to cup her rear end and brought her in even tighter to his iron-bar-of-a-cock, lifting her off the ground. The kiss continued, more frantic, more desperate and more passionate. He was about to wrap her legs around his waist when he heard muted voices. A couple exited from the restaurant. The same exact moment, his iPhone vibrated in his pocket. Reluctantly, he lowered Julie and stepped away. His hands shook as he retrieved the device.

“Byrne,” he said a little too loudly.

Liam De Luca, the bastard.
“Right, I'll be there in a tick,” he replied to the instructions. He clicked off and stuffed the mobile in his coat. “I'm sorry, darlin'. Duty calls. I'll take you to your flat. Guess that was our goodnight kiss.”

As she stepped out of the shadow, he noticed Julie's lips were red and swollen, and her hair disheveled. She looked glorious and sensual and well kissed. “Wicked ... ” she murmured.

He opened the car door for her. “Aye. Wicked. You've been warned.”

• • •

Julie stood and watched the Mercedes disappear into the darkness. She walked to the apartment building's front door reeling and staggering like a drunken sailor.
The kiss.
Wow.
The dinner date had certainly been a rollercoaster ride of emotions and sensations. She could've handled it better, and made a mental “note-to-self” to be more in control in future, that is, if he called her again.

No more self-pity declarations or pathetic confessions of poor self-image due to her past life. And do not order huge, honking amounts of greasy food while on dates. She still felt a deep embarrassment at her behavior and rash ordering frenzy. How sweet and caring, he'd split his food with her. It had felt intimate, sharing food like that. Those full, sexy lips of his had pouted slightly at having to eat the fries and onion rings, but he did seem to innately comprehend how to handle her out-of-control and irrational emotions with a patient understanding.

There was so much Julie didn't know about Lorcan. She didn't question him about his new job with the De Lucas, even though her curiosity had been stirred. Although he mentioned serving in the Irish army, Lorcan had quickly moved on to another subject. She had noticed a haunted look cross his expression when the army had been touched on. It had vanished as rapidly as it had appeared.

She liked that he'd asked her opinion about his hair. She wanted to tell him to grow it down to his firm, shapely ass. His hair was as beautiful as the rest of him. Julie would kill to own such thick, lustrous locks. She touched her golden-bronze tresses. She had to hand it to Ronnie. This color worked much better than highlights. What did Lorcan call it?
Ribbons of golden sun.
She would dye her hair this shade now until the end of days.

After unlocking the door, she headed up the stairs to her apartment on the second floor. Her legs still wobbled. The dreams she would have tonight. Having that tall, lean musculature so near had awakened a dormant desire. Julie had always imagined she possessed it. It was if an inner switch had been flicked on. She moaned as she recalled how Lorcan rolled his sexy, slim hips and pushed his hardness against her. She would bet a dozen jelly doughnuts
that
was perfect as well.

But his leaving in five months meant she couldn't allow herself to feel anything for him. Well, anything other than lust. Walking away from the very real possibility of having sex with the hottest man in the western hemisphere? She wasn't quite strong enough to do it.

But could she keep things casual?

Julie raised her chin in the air defiantly. Damn right she could.

She had no other choice.

Lorcan parked on Carmarthen Street and waited. The condo had been a recent purchase for Liam and his new girlfriend. (Lorcan had overheard this at a card game at The Playpen. No one liked to gossip more than a bunch of gangsters sitting around a table eating capicola sandwiches and playing poker. They gave blue-haired bridge biddies a run for their money.) The girlfriend in question was Margaret Evans-Leary, soon to be ex-wife of Captain Mike Leary of the Major Crime Unit of the Rockland Police Department. Apparently Liam, Mike, and Margaret or “Mags” as Liam called her, all grew up together. By the time they reached their teens, both boys wanted Maggie. She wanted both boys. The math didn't work. She eventually chose Mike Leary, marrying him right out of high school and giving birth to twins shortly thereafter.

Apparently, Liam had never forgotten her. Now, he finally had her. Lorcan shook his head in disbelief.
Feckin' Coronation Street-style drama.

Liam approached the entrance, so Lorcan jumped out of the car and opened the rear door. Liam held Maggie possessively close, his arm an iron band around her waist. Lorcan had to admit, she was a stunner. Tall and shapely with long, sable-brown hair, no wonder both De Luca and Leary wanted her.
With such a luscious and lovely lady living with him, why was De Luca still out tasting side dishes? Liam didn't try to hide it. For example, not two weeks past a gangster hanger-on had been passed around The Playpen like a bottle of beer or a bowl of nuts at her eager invitation. He knew she'd been with Liam. She had bragged about it when she'd made an offer to him, which he'd politely declined. He didn't take a man's leavings.

Maggie gave Lorcan a brief, brilliant smile, and then climbed into the back seat. Her leather skirt rose high enough to give Lorcan a flash of creamy white thigh. He moved to open the door for Liam, but he waved him off.

“The Starlight Room,” Liam called out as Lorcan slid into the driver's seat.

Lorcan spoke the commands and the GPS called up the map, then he pulled out onto the street. He had the voice set on British English, because he still thought in kilometers. Plus, the female British accent was a taste of home, and sounded a little throaty and sexy.

He glanced in the rear view mirror. Liam had Maggie curled in close to his chest, stroking her cheek affectionately while laying passionate kisses on her chin. By the besotted look on Liam's face he obviously was in love with this woman. De Luca usually appeared emotionless and cold. This was an eye-opener. Liam murmured he loved her, always did, and always would, and Maggie whispered words of love breathlessly into Liam's ear. Lorcan looked away as his heart swelled with a touch of envy. He'd never said those words to any woman, never felt anything close to the intense passion swirling all around him in the close confines of the S65. The emotion left him feeling bereft for some reason. Lorcan shook his head to dismiss the thoughts. He was not the maudlin type.

Liam kissed the woman deeply, oblivious to everything. The kiss Lorcan observed had a carnal appearance, but filled with love more than anything else. Lorcan sensed it. He snapped the rear view mirror upward so he wouldn't have to see them anymore. Aye, suddenly he felt jealous for what Liam had. Not Mags, but the emotion and deep sentiment that Lorcan really knew nothing about. He became filled with a wave of yearning, but by the time he pulled up to the front door of the club, he'd banked his mawkish response. He opened the doors for Liam and his lady. “Do you wish me to come in?” Lorcan asked.

Liam shrugged. “If you want. We won't be long.”

“I'll be in shortly. I'll keep a discreet distance.”

Liam nodded. “Appreciated.”

Lorcan reached for his leather jacket and slipped it on. Sitting on the passenger seat, he took out his keys and unlocked the glove compartment. A shelf dropped down and he removed the Sig and slipped it in his back waistband. He probably didn't need the revolver, but better to be safe than sorry.

After locking the car, Lorcan entered the bar and was pleasantly surprised at the surroundings. He had assumed it would be a dance club with flashing strobe lights, loud techno music, and half-naked, stoned people dancing seductively.

This place was the furthest thing from that preconceived notion. The posh piano bar had an oak paneled, classic look awash in muted, soft light. It consisted of booths and tables surrounded by half-walls which gave the seating arrangements an intimate feel. Lorcan immediately liked it. A man dressed in a tux sat at a shiny black baby grand piano playing American standards. Sounded like “Someone to Watch Over Me.
”
He spotted Liam and Maggie sitting in a private corner booth, Liam inclined his head in acknowledgment, and then returned his attention to the woman curled in his embrace. They were sharing a bottle of wine.

Lorcan took a seat at the bar. The bartender came right over. “Connemara, straight up.”

The man nodded. “Excellent choice, sir.”

Lorcan was impressed. It wasn't easy to find the Irish peated single malt whiskey here in the States. He glanced around the lounge. The decor was plush, rich, and pleasing. Liam had better taste than he'd expected. Perhaps he could bring Julie here one night—the thought froze him. Why did he think of her? He had mentioned he wanted to see her, and he did speak the truth. He picked up the drink placed in front of him and took a sip. The liquor burned and caressed all the way down his throat. He closed his eyes.
Bloody hell, the kiss against the wall
. Even now his cock twitched thinking about Julie and her deep, throaty moans in response to his thrusts. He exhaled.

A deep voice cleared his throat. Liam stood at his elbow. “Mags went to the restroom. I usually use Paulie to drive me around. I'll not be calling on you too often. Had no choice tonight. Did I interrupt something?”

“I was on a dinner date, aye, but about to take her home. No worries.”

“Beautiful, isn't she?” Liam's voice softened.

“Your lovely lady? Aye. You're a lucky bloke,” Lorcan said, his voice flat.

Liam raised an eyebrow. “Do I detect cynicism?”

“Not at all. I only wondered … Nah, forget it.” Lorcan took another deep swig of his drink.

“Go ahead, speak your mind,” Liam stated.

All the wine he had at dinner and now the Irish whiskey loosened his tongue. Normally, he kept his opinions to himself, especially when driving a client. Their lives and loves were none of his business and none of his concern. “Fine. I wonder why with that lovely lass at your side, you still dip your wick with all those hangers-on. It's obvious you love the woman and have for a long time.”

He took another long gulp.
In for a penny, in for a pound.
Liam would no doubt run to daddy Vinnie and complain that his driver was running off at the mouth.

Liam curled his lips in annoyance. “Not that it is any of your business, but when she gets her divorce and we marry, I'll be faithful then. Until those vows are spoken, I do what I want.”

Lorcan snorted. “Jaysus. That is the most twisted logic I've ever heard, sick justification to screw at will. If I found a woman I loved that much, I would pledge my ever-lasting faithfulness to her the moment she moved in with me. The moment we declared our feelings.” Liam's eyes narrowed, his face frozen in a steely scowl and Lorcan bit his tongue. Way to piss off the boss. “Feck it. You're right, none of my business.” He pushed the glass away. “And I have had too much to drink tonight and all. Forget I said anything. I'll wait in the car.”

Lorcan struggled to pull his wallet out of his back pocket. Liam placed a hand on his arm to halt him. “I'll get this. And we'll forget you said anything.” The fingers squeezed, digging painfully into Lorcan's bicep. “And in the future, you'll keep your mouth shut.”

Lorcan stood. He gave Liam a mocking salute. A mobster's son didn't intimidate him. After all he'd been through in the army and secret service this guy wasn't so tough. Was he frightened? Not bloody likely. How tempting to send De Luca sailing across the bar. Instead, he set his jaw and said, “Consider it firmly closed.”