Page 36 of Highballs & Hexes

A grin flashed on the other man’s face, and it was almost friendly in nature. “You’re a lot like her, to be sure.”

Patrick awoke with a start,disoriented and bordering on panicked. The instant he sensed Fi, curled against him like the snuggle bug she was, the tension left his body. Only with her didhe feel normal. Feel as if he were able to sleep nightmare-free for as long as he liked and without waking as if his body was a thousand years old. With her, the future might not be a scary place to exist, after all. But she wouldn’t stay. He knew this with a certainty unmatched by any optimism he could muster.

He scrubbed his free hand over his face and winced when he encountered the stubble. A shave was paramount. If she ever took it into her head to kiss him again, the scratching of her lovely skin would be a goddamned tragedy. Likely she wouldn’t, though, and that was a crying shame.

The hope he felt around her was a double-edged sword. His desire for her bordered desperation, but his sense of self-preservation called him a fool at every turn. Instinctively, he understood that if he fell for Fionola fully and she left him after a night of true intimacy, she’d destroy him in a way Rose’s defection never could.

Fi murmured something in her sleep and wiggled closer, wedging herself under his arm and resting her silky-soft cheek on his bare chest. She locked him in place with her shapely leg over his. Goddess, what he wouldn’t give to have free rein to run his hands along her smooth skin. To touch her hot core, that he felt even now through the material of his pant leg. To taste her everywhere, leaving no spot unexplored.

His hard-on was past the point of painful, and as much as he wanted to adjust his dick to a more comfortable position, he didn’t want to be caught seemingly fondling himself if she woke up. Patrick almost laughed at the ridiculousness of his situation. He was mad for a woman who was years younger and in love with another man, but who was also trapped withhimfor the foreseeable future. What he was beginning to feel for her was a thousand times more powerful than what he’d felt for Rose all those years ago. Or maybe it was the same, but his wife’s betrayal had tainted his memories.

A sudden clawing need to break free bubbled up inside him. If he didn’t, he might do something truly asinine like lay his heart at Fi’s feet for her to trample all over as she ran to Noah or Tadhg or any number of people not him.

Patrick released a slow breath.

Aye, he was unlovable. He should’ve understood the message the first time his wife had told him. With his index finger, he jabbed his forehead three times.

“Remember that, remember that, remember that,”he silently chanted.“Quit being a feckin’ eejit, Patrick!”

Rather than disturb Fi, he teleported from the bed to the corner of the room. Backing into the shadows where their excuse for a bathroom existed, he washed his face and scrubbed his teeth, using the toothbrush and paste their captor had seen fit to leave them.

They’d been left to rot, but their teeth sure as hell wouldn’t. When their dried-out husks were found, Patrick imagined their chompers would be blinding white in their ghastly, open-mouthed grins so at odds with their grotesque corpses.

He snorted at his absurd gallows humor. Over the years, he’d become a pro at turning his unlucky circumstances into laughable situations. Although he doubted anyone else would appreciate his dark wit.

In the mirror, he glanced at the bed.

Fionola might.

During their mundane conversations, she’d laughed and returned his snark word for word. Her stories were filled with the same dark humor as his.

Giving into his overwhelming need, Patrick turned and rested his butt against the sink. He crossed his ankles and arms, then proceeded to watch her sleep. What did it say about him that he could make a pastime of observing her? Was he a voyeur at heart, or just a sucker for love?

Her strawberry-blonde hair was a mass of tangles, spread over her shoulders and pouring down her back. She’d shifted after he left and was now on her stomach, curled into a pillow, hugging it as she had him. One leg remained hiked up, as it had been when she’d pinned him to the mattress, and the sheet rode low on her hips. Hips he’d pay to see naked. Hell, unteachable fool that he was, he’d give his very soul for one night with her.

It took him a solid ten seconds to register that she was watching him as he was her, and his heart thudded painfully in his chest the instant he noted the bold light of intent in her eyes. Only, he didn’t know what that intent meant. Once, he’d have believed it was desire. But his ability to discern a woman’s thoughts had never been on point.

His stomach clenched in anticipation as she shifted into a sitting position and swung the bedsheet back. On bare feet, she padded to him, and her eyes dropped to view his chest, making him acutely aware he’d never put his shirt on after washing up. Then her gaze lowered to the outline of his thickening penis.

Probably he should apologize for his morning wood, but she was old enough to understand a man’s reaction wasn’t always voluntary when he saw a beautiful woman in dishabille.

“Good morning.” Her voice, unused from hours of sleep, was husky and inviting.

“Good mornin’, love.”

Her mouth kicked up in the corners as if she was pleased by his endearment.

No one was more surprised than him when she reached out and ran a hand down the center of his bare chest, trailing her fingers through the hair leading to the waistband of his pants.

Hooking a finger in the top, she lazily lifted her lids and met his unblinking gaze. His only hope was that he didn’t appear as desperate as he felt. Inside, he was a bundle of raw nerves, wondering if he still had it in him to please a woman like her. Healso knew that despite the fact he’d be broken and battered when she sauntered her lovely arse back to Noah, he’d take whatever she offered and be appreciative of it.

“You’ve had this for quite some time, Patrick O’Malley. Should we take care of it?”

“That depends what you mean, love. If it’s chopping the bleedin' thing off, I’ll have to deny ya.”

She laughed as she shifted closer and nuzzled his nipple. After swiping her tongue across it, she closed her mouth over the tight bud and suckled. Pleasure shot straight to his groin, and his cock turned as hard as Connemara marble. As if she knew exactly what result she’d caused, Fi ran her hand under his waistband and along the length of him.

“I’m not after chopping anything off, Patrick. I admire the feel of it too much.”

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