I decide to stall her. "Why didn't you just call my cell phone?"
"Because if you weren't at home... that means you were out all night. And that was clearly more important than being there for me."
I get angry over her accusation. Does she expect me to stand beside the phone, waiting for her to call? Besides, she has my f**king cell phone number.
Movement from the bed catches my attention and I see Renner partially sitting up. She's gripping the sheet to her chest and her hair is all messed up. She looks edible and I want to fling the phone away and crawl back into bed with her.
She shoots me a worried look and then crawls out of the bed. I watch as she walks across the room to her dresser and I get even harder when she slips on a pair of white panties and pulls a black tank top over her head.
Shooting me now what I deem to be a sympathetic look, she walks out of the room to give me privacy for this conversation. It's awfully polite of her and I appreciate it. I don't want her to hear what I'm sure is not going to be a pleasant conversation. I don't cajole well.
"Cillian... are you there?" Maeve demands.
Sighing, I tell her, "Yes. I'm here."
"Then why weren't you at home last night?"
I take a deep breath, and pray to God that I'm saying the right thing. "Maeve... I'm here for you. You had my cell phone number and had you called it, I would have answered. But you don't own me and it's none of your business where I was last night. You need to let it go."
I expect Maeve to get angry with me. I expect her at the least to whine. She does neither, and all I hear is a click and then the line is dead.
I lean back against the side of the bed and drag my hand through my hair. That did not go well and I feel very tired all of a sudden. At least I don't have to worry about the hard-on I was sporting since I woke up. Maeve's words killed it dead.
I dial Dr. Madden but get his voice mail. I leave him a message to call me so I can see how bad I may have just f**ked up Maeve's recovery.
Pushing myself up off the floor, I drag my jeans on and walk out of Renner's bedroom. Just the thought of seeing her eases some of the anxiety in my chest.
Turning the corner into the kitchen, I see her standing in front of the counter, her back is to me. She's making coffee and I'm struck by how beautiful she is just from the backside.
Her red hair is streaming down her back in loose waves. Her ass is barely hanging into those little white panties and I see a tiny tattoo at the base of her spine where her tank top doesn't quite cover all of her skin. Never in a million years would I have thought sweet Renner would have a tattoo. Peering harder across the distance, I see it's a colorful butterfly.
Figures.
I'm immediately hard again and thoughts of Maeve are gone.
I turn quietly away and walk back to the bedroom, grabbing another condom out of my wallet. When I return to the kitchen, she's still standing there with her back to me, watching the coffee pot drip.
Walking up behind her, I toss the condom on the counter beside the pot, startling her. My hands go to her hips, my thumbs hooking in the waistband of her underwear and I tell her, "Don't move."
But she does, stepping back into my body, and laying her head back on my shoulder. She even gives a sigh of contentment, even though there is nothing peaceful about what I'm feeling right now or getting ready to do.
I release her hips, one hand coming up to smooth the hair away from her neck. The other flattens over her stomach, just briefly, before inching down into the front of her panties. My fingers stroke between her legs, wetting my fingers with her readiness. I lay my lips against her neck and kiss her.
"Bend over," I murmur. "And spread your pretty legs for me."
With my hand still stroking her, she complies.
CHAPTER 13
Renner
Fire licks over my skin and I push my legs apart, just as Cillian tells me to do. I don't hesitate, I don't think. I just want to feel... to drown in the exhilaration. Last night, my body relented to his, operating on pure lust and desire. Not once did I think to analyze, or plan out what would happen the next morning or even consider that this could have disastrous consequences down the road for me.
No... I let go. And it was exactly how I imagine it would be if I went skydiving or bungee jumping. Part thrill, part terror, and part adrenaline rush.
And then it was all pleasure. Hot, carnal... almost painful... pleasure. I'd never felt anything like it and when I it was over, I knew it had only just begun for me.
My body quivers as Cillian sinks two fingers into me, the invasion at odds with the soft kisses he is layering on my neck.
I tense up as he removes his hand from between my legs, lightly skimming them over my h*ps and to my back. I can feel him pull back from me slightly, his fingers rubbing over the butterfly tattoo on my lower back. I got that during my freshman year in college—something my mother was completely dismayed to see the following summer when we were at the beach.
"I never would have pictured you with a tattoo."
"It was my one small rebellion in college."
"It's sweet. Just like you."
Cillian doesn't say anything further and he doesn't touch me anywhere else. My body starts quaking, anticipating a deeper touch... something other than this light stroking he is doing. It's so at odds with the rougher way he normally plays with me.
Finally, he sinks the tips of his fingers into the back waistband and I wait for him to pull my panties down my legs. I almost shiver in advance of the erotic move.