Page 46 of Fix You
“I don’t think he’s that shallow,” Mam protested.
“He’s not. But the feelings will be there all the same. He’ll see me differently than before. He’llfeeldifferently. I’d rather have the memory of the way things were than explain.”
Mam gave me a sad look before finally nodding. “All right, roisin. If that’s what you want.”
It wasn’t what I necessarily wanted, but it was the way things had to be if I was going to keep my remaining sanity. I knew there would be a time in the future when I would cross paths with Raphael Neretti again. He was my sister-in-law’s brother. But I hoped time and distance would put to rest the hope of whatever was between us.
Chapter Eight: Raphael
The morning after Callum and Caterina’s wedding reception, I woke up to a brass band marching through my head. With a grunt, I rolled over in bed and lamented all the fucking Irish whiskey I’d consumed after Maeve demanded I leave her on the roof. My ego had been more than a little bruised by her reaction to my kiss, so I’d very maturely drowned my sorrows in copious amounts of alcohol.
At my lamentation over the whiskey, thoughts of Maeve immediately entered my aching head. Fuck. What a mess. While I’d known better than to even remotely get involved with Callum’s sister, I’d once again let the head below my waist do my decision making. For the life of me, I couldn’t understand whathad gone wrong. She’d wanted me to kiss her. She was enjoying my kiss. She’d said she was fine with my hands on her body.
But then she wasn’t.
I didn’t know if it was me going too far or if it was her regretting letting me kiss and touch her. I didn’t know if she was just so embarrassed about puking or if she just wanted to get rid of me. After all, Maeve wasn’t like other women. If I didn’t have a clue about your average woman, I sure as hell didn’t with her.
In the end, it wasn’t like I could ask anyone for advice. I wasn’t supposed to be kissing and groping Maeve. I imagined the best thing I could do for the both of us was to leave her the hell alone. Nothing good could possibly come from pursuing her. The new alliance with the Kavanaughs was far too precarious to risk it by rocking the boat. Most importantly, I had a future arranged marriage hanging over my head.
I pushed myself up in bed. When I stumbled into the room last night, I hadn’t taken in much of the décor. I’d ended up sprawled out on the bottom of one of the bunk beds. I guess Leo or Gianni had slept above me since they were less plastered.
With a groan, I reached over to the nightstand to grab my phone. I’d just logged our flight plan to leave at nine when a text dinged from Caterina.
Wake up, sleepyhead! Come upstairs and have breakfast with me and your brothers.
The jet is leaving at nine
??You own the jet, so just reschedule.
Marriage has made you even bossier.
Pretty please.
Fine.
Of course my sister would throw a wrench into my plans to get the hell out of here. Since I was forever incapable of telling her no, I rescheduled for noon and then hit the shower.
As I lathered up, my mind once again went to Maeve. My concern and overwhelming regret over what happened soon vanished and were replaced by illicit thoughts of her. Damn, she was so fucking beautiful–one of the most beautiful I’d ever been with. She’d felt like heaven pressed against me. At the thought of her firm breast in my hand and my tongue in her mouth, my cock became painfully erect.
Jerking off to Maeve’s image in her brothers’ house was the last fucking thing I should’ve been doing, but I still palmed my erection. With a groan, I jerked my soapy hand up and down the stiff length.
I imagined having Maeve inside the shower with me. Her alabaster skin shone under the track lighting in the bathroom. Her dusty pink nipples peeked out from the long auburn strands of her hair. She wore the same coy smile she’d given me last night when she’d crooked her finger at me to collect on her bet.
Dipping my head, I sucked one of her nipples into my mouth. Maeve’s hands came to my head, her nails raking through my hair, causing me to shudder. “Mmm, Rafe,” she moaned. My cock grew even harder at the sound of my name on her lips. More than anything, I wanted to hear my name with her echoes of pleasure.
With my mouth sucking her hardened peak, my hand slid over her taut stomach and between her legs. When I began stroking her clit, her nails raked almost painfully against myscalp. Maeve’s hips began rocking against my hand. When I thrust two fingers deep inside her, she gasped while I grunted at the feel of her slick, tight walls.
As I furiously jerked my cock, I finger fucked Maeve’s pussy. Her arousal coated my fingers, and I wanted nothing more than to taste her sweet center. More than tasting her, I wanted to replace my fingers with my cock. I wanted to pound in and out of her tight cunt.
When her walls began to clench around my fingers, I found my own release. Ropes of cum shot onto the marble wall as I pumped my cock and imagined Maeve’s body satiated with the pleasure I’d given her.
As I came down from my high, I stared down at my slackening cock in disgust. What the fuck was wrong with me? Maeve wasn’t a sleazy fantasy to get my rocks off to. She was kind and gentle and had a wonderful sense of humor.
When I stepped out of the shower and caught my reflection in the mirror, I shook my head. “You’re a disgusting fuck, Raphael Neretti,” I muttered.
After throwing on yesterday’s clothes, I hurried out of the bedroom. Pounding up the steps, my mind worked overtime to what I was going to say to Maeve when I saw her again. When I stepped into the dining room, I craned my neck to search the table for her.
Fuck. She wasn’t at the table. Immediately I reasoned it had to be because after what happened last night, she didn’t want to risk seeing me. Was it because she was embarrassed or disgusted?