When we got to her apartment, we kissed, pulled, and clawed our way at each other as we stumbled back to her bedroom. I pulled the box out of the bag and opened her nightstand drawer, intent on tossing them in there.
But something caught my eye. Opening the drawer further, I grinned to myself. Reaching in, I pulled out a hot pink vibrator. I held it out for her to see, cocking my eyebrow. And just as I expected, she blushed beet red.
"Seems like I'm not doing my job properly," I told her. "Not if you have this beside your bed."
She started stammering, and then denying that she had used it since we'd been together.
I twisted the bottom of it so it turned on, enjoying the thrum against my palm. I turned to her and said deviously, "Get your clothes off and get on the bed. I feel like playing with you tonight."
Renner swallowed hard, but then she whipped her clothes off and crawled onto the mattress.
Fuck... the things I did to her last night practically had me blushing, and I thought I had seen and done it all. I made her come four times before I finally allowed myself to sink inside of her, but I didn't put the vibrator aside.
No... I held it against her while I fucked her hard, relishing the scream that tore out of her throat as we came together.
I'm not sure how to top that, really. But I'm sure I can think of something by the time we get to her flat. I plan on keeping her up all night because she thankfully has the next day and night off, and we'll use part of that to sleep in a bit and I know we'll need it.
"Whatcha thinking?" she asks as she takes my hand.
I squeeze her back and we take off down the street. "Only something that would make that pretty face of yours blush like the setting sun."
She snorts at my words. "You have such a way with words, Cillian."
"Hey. I'm a lyricist after all. Cut me some slack."
She laughs at me and that clawing feeling is settled back inside my chest. I don't over analyze it, instead thinking ahead to what I'm going to do to her when I get her home.
***
So much for sleeping in the next morning. Renner has me up bright and early, excited to have the next day and a half off. She crawls over on top of me, tickling me awake. I have to quickly subdue her because I've never been tickled before and I've just found out that I'm very sensitive.
Pinning her on her back, I hold her hands above her head and proceed to kiss her entire body. I move lower, intent on licking her to a quick orgasm. She's like putty in my hands when I put my mouth on her, and I'm sure I could get her to agree to murder if I wanted. She's so responsive to me, and I realize I could do this for days on end, the erotic sight of her squirming underneath of me probably one of my favorite things to behold.
My brain barely processes my phone ringing but I let it go to voice mail. There's no way I'm answering it and leaving my girl wanting.
After she explodes against my mouth, I flip her over and take her quickly from behind, shouting out her name when I come. Even as I'm pulling out of her, I'm calculating the next time I can be inside of her.
***
We're walking to my apartment, which isn't too far from Renner's. Since we're going to spend the day together, I want to get a shower and a change of clothes. This will be the first time I've taken Renner--or any woman for that matter--to my apartment. Even Maeve never spent the night there, and I think it says something about the bond I'm forming with this girl.
I check my phone as we walk, and see the call was from Dr. Madden. We've spoken twice since my last call from Maeve, and he assured me that it was okay to put boundaries in place with her. He made me feel infinitely better that I didn't have to lead a double life with Maeve, and that I could support her but still pursue my own happiness which didn't include her. And right now...that happiness was Renner.
I feel terrible however, that I'm relieved that Maeve hasn't called me back. I'm so afraid of saying the wrong thing that I'm constantly on edge every time my phone rings.
I quickly call Dr. Madden back, but it rings straight to his voice mail. I leave a message and hang up.
"So... I'm like really excited to see how a rock star lives. I'm going to take surreptitious photos and post them all over the internet. Maybe I can even sell a few," Renner says.
"You're cute," I tell her, as I lean over to kiss her while we're walking. It's awkward maneuvering but I manage to steal a quick one. "You should take that comedy act on the road."
"Nah. No way it pays me better than The Hibernian does."
She links her arm through mine as we continue to walk and it feels... good.
We take the lift up to my floor and as the doors open, I motion for her to exit before me. I'm watching her ass as we walk out, thinking that I should convince her to hop in the shower with me, when she comes to a dead stop. I'm not ready for the sudden change in her momentum, and I crash into her back.
Laughing, I wrap my arms around her and snuggle into her neck. "That was a shameless move on your part to get me to touch you," I tease her.
She doesn't laugh or respond with a smart-ass quip, and in fact, I notice that she's sort of stiff in my arms.
When I look up, I see why. Maeve is standing outside of my apartment door with her arms crossed over her chest and bloody murder in her eyes. Said murder directed right at Renner.
I cautiously stand straight and drop my arms away. It's not a move I make for Maeve's benefit, but rather Renner's. I don't want any more of Maeve's ire directed at her, as I can see it written all over her face that she's angry over my display of affection.
"Maeve. What the fuck are you doing out of rehab?"
My voice comes out hard and I half expect her to flinch, but she continues glaring at Renner.
"Now I get why you're never at home at night. I get why you can't take my calls."
"Come on, Maeve. That's not fair. You have my cell phone number."
"As if you would have answered. You clearly have more important things than to worry about than me."
I start shaking my head and take a step toward her. "So you leave rehab because I wasn't at home last night? Un-fucking-believable!"
I feel Renner's hand on my back and I look over my shoulder at her.
"I think I better go," she says, her eyes swimming with uncertainty.
I want to pull her into my arms and reassure her, but I don't want to give fuel for Maeve to attack. "That's probably best."
My voice is dismissive.
I don't offer anything further and I hope she understands why I can't. But it doesn't escape my notice the brief flash of hurt that crosses her face before she turns around and gets back on the lift. I wait until the elevator doors close until I turn back to Maeve.
When I do, she's standing in front of me and throws her arms around my neck. "I missed you."
I immediately take her arms and peel them off. Taking a step back, I turn toward the stairwell. "Come on, Maeve. We're going back to Dublin Mind Wellness."
"No," she says adamantly. "I won't do it."
I turn back and look at her incredulously. "Tell me you're kidding. Tell me you are fucking kidding me?"
She shakes her head. "That place is terrible and I don't need it. I'm good, really. I have no desire to drink and I can do this on my own. I just can't take it there anymore, Cillian."
"That's not how it works. You don't just go and spend a few days and get better all of a sudden."
"Honestly," she says in a firm tone. "I'm fine. Seriously, Cillian. What I did that night... you have to know that was a silly cry for attention. But I saw how much that wigged you out. I won't do it again. I swear it."
God, I want to grab her by the shoulders and shake some common sense into her head. Maeve isn't a stupid girl. She knows this is wrong, but she's deluded herself into thinking she can do this on her own.
"You promised me you'd try," I remind her.
"Just like you promised me that you'd support me," she shoots back.
I rake my hand through
my hair and let out a breath of frustration. "I do support you, Maeve. But I have my life to lead, too. You can't expect me to give that up, can you?"
She doesn't respond but just stares down at the tips of her shoes. "I don't expect that of you. I may want it, but I don't expect it."
She looks up at me and takes a step closer. Reaching for my hand, she links her fingers with mine. "Look... I swear to you, I can do this. I just can't go back to that place. I need my freedom. And I'm sorry if I got weird on you. It was just so stressful being in there on my own that I sort of freaked out a bit that you weren't at home. But I know you're right. You have your life to live and I have mine. I just want to do it on my own terms."
I watch her with uncertainty. She certainly sounds like she means it, the part about letting me live my life.
Sighing, I pull my keys out and open my apartment door. "Come on in and let's talk about it."
***
I sit on my couch, my legs propped up on my coffee table. Maeve just left and I have a throbbing headache.
I had called Dr. Madden first and let him know that Maeve was at my apartment. He basically told me there was no way to force her back, but just reiterated to me that I should try to encourage her to do so. He also reminded me that her promises to do this on her own were probably empty, and that without therapy, it was likely that she would relapse.
Armed with that information, I talked to Maeve for over three hours, trying to get her to go back. She was having none of it, even after I threatened to kick her out of the band. Whether I was bluffing or not, I have no clue, but she called me on it. She told me to do it, and that she would sue me and the boys for all we had.
That was an empty threat, because she didn't have a leg to stand on, but at the end of the three hours I was sick and tired of dealing with it. I finally told her I would give her one chance, and if she fucked up again, it was either rehab or she had to leave OTE.
She gladly accepted my ultimatum and sounded positive that she could do it. But in my heart of hearts, I knew the chances were not good, given what Dr. Madden said.
Pulling my phone out, I make a quick call to Sean and fill him in on what's going on. He said he'd call Daniel and let him know.
There's only one thing left that I want to do today, and I head out the door to see Renner.
CHAPTER 15
Renner
I'm pacing my apartment, sick with worry and dread.
When I saw Maeve standing there, I immediately recognized her as the woman that had been hanging on him that first night in The Hibernian when I had helped Maureen bring the beers in. I had thought her a groupie and never gave her a second thought.
But I'm thinking about her now, and the way she had stared at me malevolently when we had come off the elevators. The woman hated me, on sight... of that I have no doubt.
The things she said to Cillian... they smacked of jealousy. She had been angry that he had not been at home last night and she was angry I walked off that elevator with him. I have to wonder what gives her the right to feel that way. The only answer that comes to mind is that she and Cillian have something going on. Which immediately makes me think that Cillian was fucking around with me behind Maeve's back, while she was off stuck in rehab.
But no... that just doesn't seem Cillian's style. I mean, in hindsight, after I found out Cormac was married, I could totally see him doing something like that. Because I came to recognize his grandiose and narcissistic qualities.
Cillian's not like that. Oh, he's arrogant and has an ego the size of Texas, but he's also confident enough in himself that he would be up front about it. He's say it right to my face..."Renner, I want to fuck you, but I'm fucking someone else too."
I have to give Cillian the benefit of the doubt right now, or until he proves to me otherwise.
The trail I'm wearing in my carpet is given a break when there's a knock on my door. Running over to it, I throw it open, knowing that Cillian's on the other side. I know this because the only other person that comes to my apartment unannounced is Cady and she'd just let herself in with her key.
He looks stressed, lines of strain showing on his face. I don't know what to expect of him so I just stand aside so he can enter.
When he reaches the middle of my living room, he turns toward me. "I'm really sorry you had to see that."
"I'm not exactly sure what I just saw. Want to enlighten me?"
He takes a seat on my couch and pats the cushion next to him. I sit down and turn to face him.
"Maeve decided to leave rehab. She's been upset because a few times she's tried to call me at home--at night--I haven't been there to answer."
I try to select my words carefully, hoping not to give away my angst over this situation. "And why would she care about that?"
Cillian rubs his face and sighs. "She shouldn't. It's none of her business where I am."
"So... you and she... I mean are you two...?"
His eyes widen in surprise. "Fuck no! There's nothing going on between us..."
"But...?"
"But there used to be something... a while back. But it's been over for a long time."
"If it's over, why is she so angry over what you do in your personal life?"
"We have a history... we played music together. We found major success together. There's a bond there."
"There's more than that," I prompt.
He nods his head. "About a year ago... we were both drinking heavily and one thing led to another. And well, you can figure it out. We were together that way for a while, but it fizzled for me. I thought it fizzled for her too because I caught her with someone else, and ended it officially. But... lately she's been... I don't know... wanting to get back together or something."
"Did you encourage her?" It's a fair question.
"No," he says sadly. "But I didn't discourage it either. It was easier not to fight. But I haven't been with her intimately since I broke it off. It's not like that. It's just... she likes to be a little touchy-feely with me, and... I sort of just put up with it. It's never interfered with my..."
His face actually goes red.
"With your sexual escapades?"
Cillian looks at me with resolve. "Yes... it's never interfered with my ability to fuck another woman. But don't even think that I consider you an escapade. It's more with you."
I want to explore that statement. I want to know what he means when he says I'm "more". But now is not the time.
"But the problem remains... she doesn't seem to be over it."
Cillian sinks into the couch and lays his head back, staring at my ceiling. "I don't know what she is, and I'm not sure I know how to handle this. I apparently fucked up and caused her to leave rehab."
"That's a bit unfair to yourself, don't you think? You can't be responsible for her actions."
"Yet it was my action... or rather inaction... that caused her to leave."
"No, Cillian. That was her choice and hers alone. It's not your responsibility to keep her there."
"No? I promised I'd support her and clearly I wasn't doing a very good job."
Standing from the couch, I look down at Cillian. He brings his gaze from the ceiling to me, and I so want to get lost in his dark eyes, but that would be foolish of me right now. Things have just gotten really complicated.
"Look... maybe I need to step out of the picture and let you concentrate on helping Maeve with... well, whatever it is she needs." I have no clue what that is, because frankly, I don't understand what her problem is. Is she just obsessive? Does she have a drinking problem? Or is she mental in some way? Possibly all three?
I'm startled when Cillian lunges from the couch, his hands coming to my shoulders. He puts his face in close to mine. "That's not even a fucking option, Renner. I may not know how to handle this just yet, but I'll figure it out."
"Yeah, but, don't you think--"
My words are cut off as Cillian's mouth covers mine. He's purposely shutting me up and as is usually the case
when Cillian touches me, rational thought flees my mind. He moves the kiss deeper, wrapping his arms around me. His tongue is invasive and possessing. He's reminding me that his needs are simple, and he's reminding me that mine are as well.
Gathering my last reserve of strength, I pull my lips away. "Cillian... think about this a minute..."
His hands come up to frame my face. "No. No thinking. Just feeling right now."
Then he's kissing me again, softer and sweeter. It's devoid of the raw lust that usually runs through us. Which is the worst possible thing he could do to me right now because soft and sweet from Cillian is too desirable to refuse.
I decide to worry about these problems later because I don't want to miss out on what he's offering me. I may not see this again.
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I surrender to him. He doesn't waste time... picking me up and carrying me to the bedroom.
Gone is the usual whipping off clothes. Instead, Cillian lays me on the bed and crawls on top of me, fully dressed. Settling his weight between my legs, he proceeds to kiss me more. Long, slow, lazy kisses. He's showing me that he has all the time in the world, and that this is something he wants to savor.
He's rock hard between my legs but he doesn't even grind against me. It's as if he just wants to enjoy my mouth, and only my mouth.
But it makes me restless. While the sweetness of his actions are causing my heart to beat overtime, it's not enough. I want more of him. I want the wild and domineering Cillian too.
"You're driving me crazy," I tell him when he lifts his lips briefly.
He smiles down at me. "Oh yeah? Why is that?"
"Because... I'm used to you handling me with the force of a hurricane. This gentle, summer storm you're giving me right now is a bit disconcerting."
Cillian trails a fingertip down my throat, his gaze following. "What did I tell you? No thinking... just feel."
He kisses me again and I do as he asks. His moves are tender but still passionate. Finally, his hands move and they start gently stroking me, in places that he's never paid that much attention to before.
The underside of my arm. My collarbone. The outside of my thigh. He even nuzzles under my jaw before kissing me softly there. I do what he asks and let myself just feel.
Our clothes seem to melt away, in between the slow make-out session we have. Our hands seek each other in more intimate places, causing soft gasps and sharply drawn breaths. He leaves me for just a second, to grab a condom.