Page 14 of Fearless

Cillian grabs my chin and lifts my head. “Something on your mind, princess?” His voice is anything but sympathetic. In fact, he sounds downright pissed that my attention isn’t focused solely on him.

“Fuck this,” he growls.

I open my mouth, but there’s no time to say a word.

His lips crush mine stealing my breath, my gravity, every single thought in my head.

Strong arms wrap around me, lift me.

My mind rejects the thought that I’m perched on a balcony railing five stories up, but survival instinct causes me to wrap my legs around Cillian’s waist.

A move he seems to take as an invitation. I’m dimly aware that I’m splashing my drink all over the place as he grabs the back of my neck and drags me into him for another crazy-hot kiss.

Suddenly, I couldn’t give two fucks about the fact that if either of us let go, I could be dead in however long it takes me to hit the ground below.

All that matters is his mouth. The taste of him. The way his body tenses against mine as if he’s barely holding himself back. My body melts against his.

My insides twist into a knot as he shoves a hand between us and grabs the hem of my dress. I hiss into his mouth when the ice-cold railing touches my bare ass as he pulls the fabric out from under me.

And then reality comes crashing back like a tidal wave, stranding me on a very small island.

Or, in this case, me perched precariously on a railing about to get fucked by a complete stranger.

His fingers delve between my legs, scraping so roughly over my dress I’m sure he shears off a few sequins on the way.

I grab his wrist a second before he can touch my clit. Tearing my mouth from his, I let out a breathless, “Peaches!”

His body tenses even more, and then he slowly draws back from me, frowning hard.

As soon as we lock eyes, I become fully aware of the massive ridge of his rock-hard cock pressing into my thigh.

“Peaches?” he repeats quietly, as if to himself.

“Yeah.” I swallow hard, and then clear my throat for good measure. My head’s swimming like an Olympic athlete on steroids, but somehow I manage to get out words.

Cillian laughs, a low deep rumble that I feel in my own belly. “Fuck, you’re actually adorable.”

“Uh...so...I’m going to use my Get Out of this One-Night Stand free card now, if that’s okay with you.”

I wriggle against him, trying my best to ignore his erection, but I can’t go anywhere until he steps back and lets me slide to the floor. I shove my glass into his hand, releasing it before I’m even sure he’ll take it. But thankfully he does, else we’d both have been covered in booze.

I make a beeline for the elevator before I can second-guess myself, only detouring to collect my purse from the floor.

Shockingly, he lets me go. I guess ‘peaches’ made an impression on him, thank God. It was honestly the first random word that came to my head.

But as I get halfway across the apartment, my pumps sinking deep into the lush carpet, he calls out, “You need a key for the elevator, princess.”

Fuck. I should have known it was too easy. I turn on my heel and hold out my hand. “Key, please?”

Cillian pushes away from the railing with his hip and ambles closer with an arrogant smirk plastered over his face, still holding the glass I thrust into his hand.

“Aye, I’ll give you the key. But first, finish your drink.” He comes right up to me and hands me back the glass. “This stuff’s expensive.”

Anger spikes through me. I get that this guy hasn’t had to deal with a lot of rejection in life, but what the fuck makes him think he can order me around like one of his floozies?

And I was going to sleep with this guy?

I cock my head at him as I hoist up the glass by my fingertips like a wine connoisseur considering a particularly fine vintage. Then I take a deep swallow, wincing as the booze hits the back of my throat.

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