Read Walking the Line Online

Authors: Nicola Marsh

Tags: #vacation, #international, #interracial, #holiday romance, #workplace, #australian, #irish hero, #maydecember romance

Walking the Line (6 page)

BOOK: Walking the Line
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She’d feel like heaven: hot, slick, tight. I
couldn’t get enough.

My cock hardened and I was grateful for the
empty bar and locked doors

“Hey beautiful, need help with those
kegs?”

She glanced over her shoulder, a sly grin
alerting me to the fact she wouldn’t be averse to me carrying out
my lecherous thoughts.

“The kegs are fine but this?” She wiggled her
arse. “May need some of your specialty TLC.”

There was nothing tender, loving or caring in
the way I was on her in a second, flipping her cotton skirt
up—thank God she’d taken to wearing them after hours the last
week—and unzipping my fly.

She bent over the stacked kegs further as I
rolled a condom on, tore her panties aside and plunged into her, my
mind momentarily blanking as it always did when I first slid
home.

Then the sensations started to bombard me.
Intense, indescribable pleasure. Being gripped by hot, tight
velvet. Being milked. Being driven to the brink far too soon,
wanting to hold back, to prolong, but powerless to do so.

Loud, slapping sounds mingled with her moans
as I thrust into her. In and out. Totally consumed. Totally
enclosed. Totally lost.

As her pants intensified, my balls tightened.
Holding her hip with one hand, I slid the other around the front.
Found her clit. Rubbed.

She came in an instant, her long, low moan
raising the hairs on the back of my neck. I kept rubbing as I
pumped into her, fucking so hard my cock felt like it exploded as I
came.

I slumped over her, held her, until I could
breathe again.

“I think I’m officially assigning you to
cellar duties,” she said, backing against me a little and I
straightened, still holding her tight as I slid out of her and
disposed of the condom.

“If I get to do that daily, you won’t have to
pay me.”

“That sounds gross and tawdry.” She snickered
and turned in the circle of my arms, her nose a cute little
wrinkle.

“You know what I mean.” I slapped her arse
and she giggled, a lighthearted sound I’d come to hear more often
over the last seven days.

Seven exquisite days when we’d worked and
played together. Laughed together. Teased together. We’d grown
closer and while I knew it couldn’t last, I was determined to make
the most of it.

“Shall we head upstairs?” She ground her
pelvis against mine. I didn’t need any encouragement.

“Sure, if we’re all done here.”

She slipped out of my arms, only to snag my
hand. “Honey, we’re just getting started.”

“Another all-nighter, huh?” I pretended to
stagger and clutch my back. “You’re wearing me out.”

“Bullshit.” She winked. “There has to be some
benefits to having a toy boy.”

Loving how she never brought up our age
difference anymore except in jest, I pointed at my groin. “You seem
to enjoy the benefits of my toy just fine.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t go getting a big
head.”

“I thought you liked it that way.” I placed
her hand on my swelling cock to prove it.

“God…” She sighed, gave me a gentle squeeze,
before half bounding-half sprinting up the stairs, stopping to
crook her finger at me. “Hurry up.”

I didn’t have to be asked twice.

We’d reached the top step when a pounding
sounded at the back door.

“Who the hell’s that?” Whoever it was, I’d
kill them for their lousy timing.

“Kye’s the only one who’d use the back
entrance after hours.” She made a cute exasperated sound akin to a
snort. “Think we can ignore it?”

The pounding increased as Ellie’s mobile
started blaring its usual hard rock ringtone.

“Guess not.” She looked as disappointed as I
felt. “I’ll go see what he wants.”

“Let me go.”

Because I knew for a fact guys talked less
and that meant I could get rid of Kye faster.

She hesitated, then nodded. “Okay.”

“Won’t be long.” I captured her face in my
hands and kissed her. “Wait for me.”

Her eyes widened, fear lurking in their
indigo depths. Guess that answered any unasked questions I may
irrationally contemplate about us being involved in any kind of
relationship beyond casual. I’d meant wait for me in the bedroom
but the way I’d said it had obviously triggered something for her.
Looked like Ellie waited for no man.

“See you soon,” she murmured, turning away,
effectively shutting me down so I couldn’t probe.

Torn between wanting to go after her and
getting rid of Finn as fast as I go, I chose the latter. The
mysterious Ellie and her secrets could wait until later.

Zipping up my fly, I headed for the back
door. With my first day near-mugging fresh in my mind, I peered
through the barred glass window before opening the door.

“Hey Kye, what’s up?”

“I need a drink.” He pushed his way past me
and headed for the bar. By his wild-eyed expression, this could
take a while. Damn.

I relocked the door and followed him.
“What’ll you have?”

He sneered. “I’ll help myself.”

I held up my hands in surrender and took a
seat at the bar, wondering what had happened to make Kye this edgy.
Maybe I should get Ellie after all.

“You want anything?” Kye held up a whiskey
bottle after sloshing a double shot into his glass.

“No thanks.”

“Suit yourself.” He downed the drink in two
gulps and topped up twice, finally recapping the bottle much to my
relief.

A drunk Kye would have to stay overnight and
for what I had planned with Ellie, I didn’t want guests.

“Bad day?”

“The fucking worst,” he said, sliding onto
the bar stool next to me. “I lost it on the court.”

When he turned his head to stare at me, I
wished I’d had that shot of whiskey after all. Kye looked broken,
like he’d done more than throw a hissy fit while playing
tennis.

“Never done that…” He swirled his drink while
staring into its depths. “Usually I burn off anger while I’m
playing but today, I had a shitfit to end all shitfits.”

“Why?”

He flinched, as if I’d physically flayed him.
“The dickhead I was playing in an interclub match knew about my
background. He started taunting me…” He downed his double shot and
slammed the glass on the bar. “I’ve put up with worse but…”

I didn’t know whether to leave well enough
alone or if Kye wanted to talk more, but I’d never seen a guy look
so damned defeated so I settled for some gentle prodding.

“But?”

He glanced up from his glass, the bleakness
chilling his eyes making me want to turn up the heating. “He
bad-mouthed Mum and I snapped.”

“Understandable—”

“It’s been five years since she died, you’d
think I’d know better.” His bitterness was audible. “I cleared the
net, had him in a headlock and would’ve punched the shit out of him
if my practice partner hadn’t dragged me off.”

“Don’t beat yourself up. I’d do the same to
anyone who badmouthed my mum.”

For the first time since he’d stormed in,
Kye’s shoulders lost some of their tension. “I’d pay to see you
rough up anything bigger than a mouse, Irish.”

“You calling me a weakling?” I flexed an arm
and pushed up my bicep with my free hand. “Because I could take
you.”

Objective achieved when Kye semi-smiled. “I’d
like to see that.”

We chuckled as I removed my fingers and my
bicep returned to its usual leanness.

He glanced toward the back stairs and my
heart sank. If he wanted to talk to Ellie, he could be here all
night, and as unsympathetic as it seemed, I didn’t want that. But
the guy looked so lost, so bereft, I had to offer.

“Do you want to talk to Ellie?”

“Nah, I’m good.” He pushed the empty glass
toward me. “You’ll do.”

Somewhat relieved, and a little chuffed he
valued me as enough of a friend to confide in, I grabbed the glass
and placed it out of reach. “I’d make a lousy agony aunt but I’m
willing to listen if you don’t get shit-faced.”

Kye grunted, rubbed a hand over his face.
“I’m sick of talking about my fuck-ups. What’s happening with
you?”

I couldn’t hide my goofy expression and Kye
groaned. “Don’t tell me. I can see it all over your dufus
face.”

“Ellie’s the best,” I said, wondering if it’d
be worth running my crazy idea past Kye.

“You’ll get no argument from me.” Kye studied
me. “What’s going on? You look like a kid who’s been given a pet
lizard for Christmas and doesn’t know what to do with it.”

“I’m thinking of staying,” I blurted out,
knowing it sounded as ludicrous articulated as it did in my
head.

“In Sydney?”

I nodded, suddenly glad Kye had dropped by
unexpectedly. I’d been going nuts the last few days, ever since the
thought had popped into my head that I wouldn’t have to leave
Ellie. Not if I didn’t want to.

“But what about your turf management position
in Melbourne?”

I shrugged. “Jobs come and go.”

Kye’s eyebrows rose. “You’re serious?”

“Yeah.”

“Shit, you’re naive.” Kye shook his head.
“You’re out of your mind to give up a solid future in your career
field for a woman, even if Ellie is one of the best.”

Stunned by Kye’s vehemence, I tried to
marshal a suitable response when he continued.

“Mate, let me give you some advice.” He
slapped me on the back. “Think with your big head, not your little
one.”

I shoved Kye away. “You’re a fuckwit if you
think this is just about sex.”

“Whoa.” Kye’s audible admiration did little
to quell my rising temper. “You’ve got it bad.”

“I care about her,” I murmured, my shoulders
slumping as the fight drained out of me. “And I have no fucking
clue how to convince her of that.”

“Tell her,” Kye said, surprisingly somber.
“What have you got to lose?”

The way Ellie shied away from anything deep
and meaningful?

Everything.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

 

ELLIE

 

 

I snuck a peek downstairs and when I saw Finn
settle onto the barstool next to Kye, I knew he’d be a while.

Kye often did this; turned up at the bar at
all hours if he’d had a bad day. Because the kid was so mixed up,
he had a few of those. Usually we’d share a drink, shoot pool, play
poker, talk. At least, Kye would talk, I’d listen. I didn’t mind
being his stand-in mum. He was a good guy and Sheree would’ve done
the same for me if I’d had a kid.

An old, familiar pain twanged my chest at the
thought of what I wanted and would never have. Now, like back then
when my perfect life had crumbled before my blinkered eyes, I
marched to my apartment, slammed the door and headed for the
bedroom.

It took me a full five minutes to realize I
was zipping into my leathers, gelling my hair, applying lashings of
red lipstick and slipping on the chunkiest silver rings I could
find, when I should’ve been getting ready for Finn.

“Jeez,” I muttered, sinking onto the edge of
my bed, letting the four-inch spiked heel boots in my hand fall to
the floor.

I didn’t have to run away anymore. I owned
this place. This was my sanctuary. And I had the promise of
all-night sensational sex to take the edge off my sorrow.

Because that’s exactly how I felt every time
I rehashed the past, even in my head. Sad. Bone-deep grief, the
kind that could sap energy and render me useless if I let it. I
should know. I’d let it get a grip on me for almost a month after
Dougal had first left.

Dougal. The man of my dreams. My high school
best friend who’d had enough of a bad boy edge to make him
attractively dangerous, yet gentle and sweet around me. The guy
who’d promised me the world. The guy who’d given me jack-shit
instead.

Angry that I’d let my memories get the better
of me, I stood and started ripping off my clothes, before heading
to the bathroom to remove the rest of my mask. I didn’t need
war-paint or fierce hair to be with Finn. And that’s what I needed
right now: to be with Finn.

Finn made me feel good. Made me feel hopeful.
Made me forget.

I showered quickly and donned a robe. I
opened my door, heard the murmur of voices at the back door and
padded barefoot to his room. I’d slipped under the covers as Finn’s
footsteps pounded up the stairs.

The bedroom door flung open and I startled.
Finn stalked into the room, auburn curls awry, aquamarine eyes
glowing with fervor.

“Is everything okay—”

“Yeah, Kye’s good, he just left.” He stared
at me for an eternity, before closing the door.

“I need you to listen.” He made a zipping
motion over his lips as he strode to the bed and sat next to me.
“Hear me out without saying a word.”

“O-kay…”

I didn’t like his expression, halfway between
bold and batty.

He grabbed my hand, intertwining our fingers.
“I’ve been thinking about this for a week.”

Not liking the sliver of foreboding shimmying
down my spine, I eased back a little. “About what?”

“Staying. In Sydney.”

Three little words to strike fear into my
heart when I had to believe that what we had was sex and nothing
more.

While I was freaking out on the inside, I
tried to appear calm and clarify, because Finn could be sticking
around for a variety of reasons.

I willed my voice to remain steady.
“Why?”

His eyebrows shot up. “You seriously have to
ask?”

He squeezed my hand. “I care about you. A
lot. And I thought—”

“Stop.” I yanked my hand out of his and
scooted across the bed, away from him and out of reach. “This is
ridiculous.”

Confusion creased his brow. “I don’t
understand—”

“That’s obvious.”

I reached for my robe draped on the end of
the bed and shrugged into it. No way could I have this conversation
naked. Not when I’d need to storm out of this room shortly before I
relented and listened to the nagging voice inside my head that
insisted I knew exactly where this was going but was too damn
scared to admit it. “Look, Finn, we’ve had fun but you can’t stay
in Sydney because of me.”

BOOK: Walking the Line
11.41Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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