As I walk through the sunlit day, a plastic garbage bag over my shoulder containing the contents of my locker, I become more frustrated with every step. I can’t understand why a man can be so blinded to his daughter’s wants and needs that he’d actually try to stand between her and her happiness. If I was a criminal, I’d understand his issue. But I’m a chef, a man he’s known for six years, a man he has worked side-by-side with. He knows my character. He knows that family is the most important thing in my life—it’s one of the reasons we worked so well together, because we shared a similar philosophy in life.
I don’t know if it’s his rules against dating, or if it’s just the fact she’s his daughter, but that man was not willing to bend, so sure he knows what’s right that he is willing to risk alienating his daughter in the process. I hope it doesn’t come to that. That would be the true tragedy here.
The way I see it, George either learns to accept me, or he spends a lifetime hating me. I hope that for Hazel’s sake, he chooses the former. Because I’m not going anywhere. He’s not going to get rid of me now. He’s just taken the only one other thing I care about from me. Now all there is is her. And once I claim her, put a baby in that belly of hers, she’ll be mine forever. No one will stand between us, least of all him.
As I round the corner, my building draws closer, along with the gorgeous curvy figure of a burgundy-haired lass wearing a mint-colored skirt and matching knitted sweater. She’s sitting on top of the white suitcase, looking like she’s been waiting all day for me.
“Hey,” I say as I reach her, my eyes moving between her and the case. “Did something happen?”
She stands and moves a step toward me. “I’ve made a decision,” she says, her voice breathy and a little tight, like she’s worried I won’t like what she’s about to say.
“Yeah?” I place the bag of my things on the ground beside her case.
“I want to get married, Cillian. But I also don’t want to wait. I want us both to be together now. Completely. The way a man and a woman are meant to be.” Her words hit me in the chest, and for a moment, I’m not sure how to react. It’s been an eventful day.
“And by the look of that suitcase, you’re not planning on going back home?”
She glances back at it, twisting her hands in front of her nervously. “I had to leave, Cillian. He was never going to understand. And if we’re going to get married anyway, moving in is part of the deal, right?” She gives me a watery smile. “It’s OK, isn’t it? I mean, you’re not going to say no?”
I release my shoulders as I shake my head and reach out to take her hands. “No, lass. After the day I’ve had, coming home to find you waiting for me has been the best part.” I lean in and press my lips to the center of her forehead, lingering there and inhaling her heady scent. “Let’s get you upstairs, a stór. We can shut ourselves away from the world and pretend today never happened.”
“Was it that awful talking to him?” she asks, her big eyes looking up at me.
I lean down and touch my lips to the tip of her nose before I pick up her suitcase and my bag in one hand. “Nothing a night loving on my girl can’t fix.”
She reaches up and wraps her hands around my neck, hugging herself tightly to me. “I love you, Cillian. I know we haven’t said it yet. But I just needed you to know.”
“I love you too, a stór.” My free hand goes around her waist and squeezes, her soft body melting against mine in the most perfect way. “I love you too.”
Hazel
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Cillian rasps, sucking on my mouth with just the right amount of pressure.
“Yes,” I whimper as his tongue slides past my lips and steals my ability to speak. We’re barely through the front door of his apartment, and already we’re all over each other, our breathing labored, my core clenching in appreciation as his hands move to cup my ass and squeeze.
“Fuck, Hazel,” he moans. “I feel like I have no control over myself. All I want to do is touch you everywhere at once.”
“Then touch me,” I gasp. “Anywhere you want.” He grabs my face and kisses me hard. My toes curl and heat rushes between my thighs and tingles over my breasts. I want all of him pressed against all of me. And I want it now.
With a fierce growl, he breaks away from our kiss and steps back, looking at me like a man in pain, his chest rising and falling as he fights for control. We stare at each other.
“What happened? Why did you stop?” I pant, cool air washing over me in his absence.
His brow furrows as if searching for the right thing to say. “I’m rushing things. You’ve been sitting outside and I should feed you or at least offer you a drink first.” He gestures toward the kitchen, and it’s the first time I actually look at his apartment. White walls, black countertops and stainless steel appliances. It’s very him, and I love it already.
I smile as I reach out and grab the front of his shirt, pulling him toward me. “I just want you,” I say. “Nothing else.”
He presses his forehead to mine. “I’m worried I’m going to hurt you if we move too fast.”
“You won’t,” I whisper back, pressing my lips to his. “I trust you.”
“Fuck, Hazel. I want you so bad.” His teeth take my bottom lip, pulling it into his mouth as he sucks and releases, his mouth moving to my neck. I begin to see stars, my entire body a live wire. I think I could come from his lips alone.
“Cillian.”
Reaching down, he grips my thighs then lifts, holding me against the wall as he grinds his length into my core, his breath hot against my skin. “I could fuck you right here, make you scream,” he growls, punctuating his words with a grind of his cock. The friction feels so good. “But I want your first time to mean more than me taking what I want from you.”
“It feels more like you’re giving me what I want,” I whisper, clinging to him as the beautiful friction of his hard dick does some special things to my insides.
“And we’re not even naked yet,” he says, chuckling into my neck before he kisses me, then lifts me off the wall and carries me into his room, lowering me on the bed so he’s on top and my legs are open around him.
Shifting his weight to the side, he trails his fingers beneath my skirt and up to my panties. I shift a little as he reaches my apex, embarrassed by how wet I must be there. But then he touches me, and moans in appreciation, his eyes holding mine as he moves back and forth.
“Feel good?” he asks, studying me as my senses catch alight and I’m struggling to form a coherent thought.
“Uh-huh.”
He smiles and brings his mouth to mine, his fingers still moving as the kiss turns passionate, tongues thrashing, throats moaning until he adjusts his hand and his fingers go down the front of my panties.
My eyes fly open and find him watching me as his fingers slide through my wet and aching channel. He releases a pleasurable moan, his mouth hovering over mine as he pushes a finger inside me.
“So wet.” He pulls his finger out and then slides it in again, deeper. I moan as I lift hips up to meet him, something hot and intense building inside me. “That’s it,” he whispers. “Take what you need. Let me watch you come.”