Page 13 of Forever Flames: Padraig & Stevie
She squeezes my hand. “Don’t sweat it. He’ll come if he wants to.”
The second I open the door to the Hayes’ house, I’m hit with an overwhelming feeling of comfort.
Warmth. Color. Music that’s somehow both too loud and exactly right. The Hayes’ house has the same bones as ours—massive wood beams, built-in cabinets, stained-glass transoms. The similarities end there. Our homes feel like different planets. Unlike the gloom hovering over our place, over here it’s as if someone left the doors unlocked and the sun moved in.
Stevie swirls through the open-plan living room with a champagne flute in one hand and a basket of rolled-up horoscopes in the other. A giant cut-glass bowl of limeade sits on the entry table, flanked by plates of edible flower cookies, like it’s a damn fairy tale picnic.
Her little sister, Joni, is crouched on the arm of the couch, braiding neon thread into someone’s hair. Their younger brother Ziggy streaks through the hallway in a Bowie tee and no shoes, holding a glitter wand and yelling something about stardusting the graduates for good luck.
I blink. Take it all in.
In the dining room, Ma and Lucinda arrange platters of food. They move like the old friends they are, lining up Hank’s slow-roasted pork tacos in neat rows. Liam’s crouched near the windowsill with our wee brothers and a plate full of food. All of them heads down, chewing like they haven’t eaten in days.
I load up my own plate and barely breathe between bites.
Stevie materializes beside me and nods toward Liam who’s helping Cillian with his taco. “See? He can’t stay away. I’m glad.”
“Yeah, me too.” I pop the last bite into my mouth.
For the next half hour, we move through the party side by side, fielding congratulations and hugs from her extended family and a bunch of neighborhood friends.
Connor shows up after sunset, showered and clean-shaven with his shirt actually tucked in. He hands me a box, already wrapped, no explanation. Inside are studio sticks. Weighted. Perfectly balanced. The kind pros use.
“This is part of it.” He claps my shoulder. “Your new kit’s already set up in the practice room. I got Liam the Strat he’s been coveting.”
My throat locks. As thoughtful as his gift is, it feels like a concession. He’s throwing in the towel on his musical dream when I thought he’d play with us always. It was supposed to be the three of us and now he’s giving up.
I pull him into a fast, quiet hug and feel the weight of his expectation. Support. Of being believed in. Stevie slips her arm around my waist and leans her head against my shoulder. Looks up at me and gives me the eyebrow waggle.
Fuck yeah. We need to disappear for a while and have our ownprivatecelebration.
Stealthily, we slip out the back door toward the thick ivy hedge dividing our property. A shortcut between our houses we’ve used a million times. Never for this purpose, though, come to think of it.
Once through, we’re behind our garden shed. Stevie’s already lifting her dress.
“Oh shit—” I groan.
She’s completely bare.
Winking, she grabs my shirt and yanks me toward her, mouth crashing against mine. No pretense.
“You trying to kill me?” I gasp when she unzips my slacks.
Her fingers wrap around my cock. “No, stupid. Obviously, I’m trying to fuck you.”
I hiss through my teeth, bracing one hand on the fence as she strokes me and drags my crown against her slit. She’s soaked. Warm. Ready. I grip her hips and lift her, line myself up and push inside in one slow, deep thrust.
Stevie arches back, hands clinging to my shoulders. She moans low in her throat, tipping her head up to the sky. “God, Padraig. I can feel every inch of you.”
I start to move. Sharp, rhythmic, urgent. Her dress is bunched around her waist and she grinds against me, matching every thrust, every ragged breath.
“You’re mine,” she pants.
“Aye.” My voice catches. “Since the second I met you.”
Her hips jolt when I reach between us to rub her clit and her thighs tense around my waist. Within seconds her whole body pulls tight, pulsing around me as she comes hard, mouth open in a silent cry.
I thrust deep, heat rushing through me as I spill inside her.
