Moving On Read online

  Braeden puts his arm around my shoulder on our way through the lobby and up the elevator. When we get on, I’m thankful no one else is in there. When the doors close, I press my body against his and he grabs my thigh, hitching it up so I have direct contact with his erection. Our mouths are drawn to each other again. I can still taste Guinness on his tongue. The ding of the elevator coming to our floor pulls us back to attention.

  We are barely down the hallway and I’m pulling at the hem of Braeden’s shirt. It must be the alcohol. I don’t strip guys down in public.

  “Here’s my room,” I pant out. I dig my key out of my purse and open the door.

  As soon as we’re in the room, he picks me up so that I’m straddling him and he carries me to the bed. Our lips crash together and when his tongue finds mine again, I moan into his mouth. He’s gentle when he places me down on the bed. Gentle isn’t what I want. Need and desire course through me. I break from the kiss and say, “Take my clothes off.” I barely recognize my voice so full of lust.

  I move to a seated position to tug my shirt off while Braeden takes off my jeans and thong. “You are beautiful,” he says. He takes a moment, devouring me with his eyes. I don’t give him long because the only thing on my mind is seeing Braeden naked.

  Reaching up, I undo his jeans and pull them down along with his boxer briefs. I eye his gorgeous body as he stands in front of me, all long, lean, and strong muscle. Even if it’s just this once, I’m glad I get to enjoy this body.

  He towers above me and leans forward as I lean back onto the bed. He kisses me lightly on each thigh and waves of heat pulse straight to my core. Making his way up my body, he stops at each breast and licks and sucks until I’m not sure I can take any more of the tortuous pleasure. “I want you inside me, Braeden.”

  His hand reaches down and finds my clit. He caresses it slow and gentle with his calloused fingers. “We don’t have to rush. We’ve got all night.” His mouth is on mine again, his tongue dipping in and out.

  Anticipation of what he’s going to do to me, coupled with his mouth and hands, intensifies the pressure already building in my core. “Please,” I pant out.

  “Please what?” His eyes are hooded with desire. He’s playing it cool, but he’s on edge, too.

  “Lie on your back.” It comes out forceful. It’s what I want. I need some level of control.

  He complies and rolls me over and on top of him. “Like this?” he whispers in my ear, his warm breath leaving feather-light sensations in its wake.

  “Perfect.” I kiss his lips and his chest and my hands come up to stroke his taut muscles. His spicy scent fills my senses. I grasp his thick erection and run my hand up and down his smooth length. I watch Braeden’s jaw tighten and his eyes flutter closed. I circle my hand around him again and stroke harder as his head tips back into the pillow. There’s nothing sexier than watching him lose control.

  Unable to withstand the ache between my legs, I sit up over him, ease myself onto his steel length, and ease him inch by inch in me as deep as he’ll go.

  “Scar…lette,” he growls.

  A lingering moan escapes my lips as I move back up him, and when I sink down once more, I grind my hips to take him even deeper. His hands move to my ass and we find the perfect rhythm together.

  I arch my back and my body takes over, moving of its own volition. Braeden sits up and my legs straddle him. His hand comes down and starts working my clit in hurried circles; at the same time he takes one of my nipples and licks it. I speed up the pace as I move closer to the edge. I know he’s almost there, too, when the muscles of his legs tense and his breathing grows ragged.

  “I’m so close,” I cry out, barely able to contain my release. “Braeden.”

  “Let go.” He never stops stroking my clit, but keeps pace as I tip over the edge and ride wave after wave of my orgasm.

  It’s only moments later when he joins me, squeezing me close to him as he presses his face into my neck. “You’re amazing.”

  He is a freaking god. That was the most intense sexual experience I’ve ever had. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

  He chuckles into my hair and kisses my collarbone. “Not so bad, huh. Well let’s try this again.” He flips me over in one swift movement so I’m lying on my back and kisses his way down my stomach.

  “I’m not asking this time. You’re coming with us.”

  As I lie on top of him, head on his chest, his words vibrate through me. “Don’t worry. You’re not getting rid of me. I’d love to go to St. Patrick’s Cathedral with you this morning.” I am Catholic but I don’t get to church much. I used to go all the time with my grandmother. My parents only went on holidays, so when Grandma would ask me to come with her, I would say yes. I’ve always loved spending time with her. Her heart is huge and she was always there for me, even before my parents died. When Braeden told me he was going to mass, I was happy to say I’d tag along.

  Neither of us slept much. At one point in the night, I woke up and was overcome with desire, even though it was mere hours since we last had sex. I needed him again and woke him up with my mouth on his shaft. He didn’t object.

  The night was perfect. I’m satisfied in ways I didn’t know was possible. I’ve never been with a man purely for sex. Never had a one-night stand or fling. Going into this, my mind had doubts. Such uncharted territory for me. But everything about it is real and raw. I have no walls up, no inhibitions. Maybe that’s why it’s amazing. Because there are zero expectations. We are using each other for sex, but even though there are no attachments or expectations, I still feel completely cared for. There is a level of intimacy between us that allowed me to go to new heights with him. I don’t quite understand it, but I refuse to overthink it. I’m going to enjoy everything he gives me.

  “Did you check the times for mass?” I ask.

  “Yes. We’ve got to get up and shower now or we’re going to be late. It’s at eleven.”

  The clock says it’s nine thirty. Plenty of time. I reach down, grab his length in my hand, and stroke him once, twice. “Are you sure we don’t have time for a quickie?”

  He kisses me, his tongue pressing against mine. “Let’s multi-task.” He stands up and whisks me up into his arms. He carries me to the shower, sets me down, and turns on the water.

  An hour later, we meet Jackson and Patrick in the lobby. Braeden puts his hand on the small of my back and we walk up to his brothers together. My heart pounds a little faster, I don’t know why. There’s no need for me to impress them, but I want to. I’d like them to like me.

  “Guys. This is Lettie.” Braeden introduces me to Jackson and Patrick. He uses a nickname that no one uses for me anymore except for my grandmother and Fiona. He’s never used it. Maybe it’s because our relationship reached a new level of intimacy after last night. It makes me smile.

  Jackson takes a pace toward me and wraps his arms around me. “Hey, good to see you again. You look great.” He pulls back and his eyes scan me with approval.

  I like Jackson. He’s warm and open. Unlike Patrick. He bends forward and puts his hand out for me to shake. I do and say, “Nice to meet you.”

  “Same,” is all Patrick says. He’s hot, but in a stoic, indifferent kind of way. He’s tall, with dark hair, but thinner than Braeden. He stands up straighter, as if he’s been through military training. I’ll have to ask Braeden about him. I wonder if he was always this way or if it’s because of his recent heartache. I can’t imagine how terrible it would be to have someone you love take off on you without an explanation.

  “We better get going.” Jackson looks at his watch. “I called a cab. It should be outside.”

  In the car on the way to St. Patrick’s, the guys chat about their upcoming jobs when they get back to Charlottesville. They have fun personalities together, one playing off the other. I enjoy listening to them and they even include me in the conversation from time to time.

  At St. Patrick’s, I’m in awe. Even though we were just here
yesterday, I’m still captivated by its beauty. There are several tourists outside snapping pictures and milling around.

  Inside is even more stunning than the outside. It’s got a breathtaking old gothic beauty, with statues of historic Irish figures and stained glass that shoots light in different directions throughout the church. The entire space has a rich sense of history within the walls.

  There are already quite a few people seated and ready for mass. We find open seats toward the back. I sit between Braeden and Jackson. It’s a beautiful spot to reflect on my good fortune in Ireland. I didn’t know what to expect when I flew here alone. I wanted a getaway from terrible luck at home. It turns out that this trip is exactly what I needed. I bow my head and close my eyes in gratitude.

  “I’m starving. Let’s go to lunch,” Jackson says when the service is over. We all stand and walk toward the exit.

  “Sounds good to me.” In our haste this morning, Braeden and I didn’t eat.

  “Let’s go. I’ve found the perfect place.” Jackson leads the way out of St. Patrick’s.

  We walk down the road and find another cab. Jackson tells the driver the name of the restaurant. A place called Tierney’s.

  Turns out the restaurant isn’t too far away, which is good because my stomach growls a few times. The guys are polite and none of them laugh at me.

  We pull up to the curb outside of Tierney’s and I attempt to pay for the cab.

  “Put that away,” Braeden says and pulls cash out of his pocket.

  “Are you going to let me pay for anything?” I ask.

  “Unlikely. Let’s go in.” He pushes my hair away from my ear and whispers. “I worked up an appetite this morning. I need to eat.”

  I shiver from his warm breath in my ear and the memory of us together in the shower this morning.

  The restaurant is small. With a bar and about ten tables, I’m relieved to see that there are several open places to sit. I scooch into a round booth and Jackson sits on one side of me and Patrick on the other. Braeden is situated across from me. He’s checking me out and when I catch him, he shoots me a sugary sweet smile, all white teeth, and dimples.

  A woman walks up to our table. For a moment, I think she’s a waitress, but to my surprise, Jackson jumps out of the booth, kisses her on the cheek, and turns to us. “Let me introduce you all to Amelia.”

  Her hair is long, thick, and dark, almost iridescent in the restaurant lighting. She is thin and wearing tight dark jeans and a cream turtleneck sweater, which highlights her thin body with curves in all the right places. She looks like she fits with Jackson, but I don’t remember Braeden mentioning him having a girlfriend. In fact, Braeden said Jackson was single. I peer over and see confusion in the lines of Braeden’s face.

  “Hi.” She waves a small hand at us. She’s got an American accent. At first, I thought she might be Irish.

  Jackson points toward the booth. “Go ahead and sit down.”

  Amelia does and moves in next to me. Jackson takes a seat next to her. We all shift around the booth to make room for her.

  Jackson breaks the ice for all of us and introduces us separately. When he gets to me, he doesn’t even hesitate and calls me “Lettie, Braeden’s girl.” I smile at this reference. I guess that’s who I am, at least here in Ireland.

  “How did you two meet?” Braeden asks, pointing between Jackson and Amelia.

  They look back and forth between the two of them as if to say, ‘are you going to tell them or am I?’ They’re cute together, the way she bats her eyelashes at him and how he has his hand on her thigh.

  “It’s a long story,” Jackson says.

  “We’ve got nothing but time.” Braeden’s tone is playful but prodding.

  When I glance at Amelia, she gets a slight blush across her cheeks and her teeth come over her full bottom lip, chewing on it. I wonder what they’re hiding. I’m almost uncomfortable for her. The brothers never gave Braeden a hard time, at least not when I was around.

  “Amelia and I have known each other for a while. But we haven’t hung out in years since she went away to college. I saw that she was posting pictures here in Dublin. I reached out to her. We met up a few days ago. We’ve seen each other every day since. It’s been great reconnecting with her.”

  “Yeah. Jackson is great.” Amelia casts her eyes down when she says this.

  These two are clearly happy to be reunited. There’s something more here though.

  “Where are you from, Amelia?” I ask.

  “Virginia originally, I went to college in New York City, but now I’m back in Charlottesville.”

  “How long are you in Ireland?” Braeden asks.

  “Just a couple more days.” Her eyes flash to Jackson’s and back to me. She’s not happy to be leaving so soon. “I’m here with my friends. We got here over a week ago.”

  “That’s great. What do you do for a living?” I ask.

  “I’m in advertising. What about you?”

  “I’m actually in between jobs.” I hate how pathetic I sound when the words come out. “I’ve been looking for a teaching position, but there just haven’t been any openings.” I don’t know why I didn’t just tell her that I’m a teacher. The fact is, I haven’t actually had a teaching job yet. Lack of positions in my area forced me to go back to waitressing. I’d like to move and use my degree, but I have no intentions of leaving with my grandmother living in Charlottesville.

  “When something opens up, you’ll be amazing.” Braeden chimes in.

  I love his confidence in me, although I’m not sure where it’s all coming from.

  The waitress comes over and takes our orders. I’ve decided on fish and chips today. All of the brothers order Shepherd’s Pie and Amelia gets a cup of soup and a pastrami sandwich. We all order different types of beer from the restaurant’s many draft selections.

  “Are you guys dating now, Jackson?” Patrick asks in his brooding tone.

  Jackson shakes his head back and forth. “We’re friends, right.” It’s not a question when he flashes his eyes to Amelia. I don’t know him well enough to put my finger on it, but it seems like a bluff.

  “You look familiar to me. Have we met?” Patrick is appraising her, uncertainty in his eyes. His facial features stay the same; he’s hard to read, but he knows something.

  She shakes her head at Jackson and she turns to Patrick. “I don’t think so.”

  Jackson chimes in, changing the subject. “When are we leaving for Cork?”

  Just then the waitress returns with our drinks, setting one in front of each of us and she turns and walks away. I take a deep swallow and enjoy the cool, hoppy flavor running down the back of my throat.

  Braeden starts to speak to Jackson, but looks at me. “We’re leaving in the morning. You’ll come with us, won’t you, Lettie?”

  “I don’t want to intrude. I know this is a brothers’ trip.” The time I’ve spent with his family so far has been wonderful, but if they had planned to take this trip alone, I don’t want to be the reason their plans changed.

  “No way. Come with us!” Jackson says, his tone enthusiastic.

  “Of course, you should come. We’re taking the bikes, it’s going to be beautiful,” Braeden says.

  It’s beyond tempting. Why would I say no? I glance at Patrick. He notices and gives me a small, almost imperceptible nod. “Sure.”

  My smile is wide when Braeden looks my way. If he were sitting closer, I’d grab his hand and squeeze it. “Why don’t you come with us, Amelia?” I ask.

  Her eyes protrude and her mouth opens, but no words come out.

  “Oh, you’re busy, right.” Again, it’s not a question. Jackson fills in the words Amelia can’t say.

  She shakes her head and nods it at the same time. “Well, I a…”

  Her expression is one of relief when the waitress brings our meals to us.

  “Come on. The more the merrier,” Braeden says.

  Jackson’s posture becomes rigid and he tips his
head to the side. His expression is telling Braeden to go fuck himself. “If you aren’t busy, of course you can come with us to Cork.”

  Amelia lets out a little gasp and her hand flies up to her chest. “Really?”

  “Sure,” Jackson says, his muscles loosen and he relaxes back into his seat.

  Part of me feels bad for inviting her along, but the way she and Jackson have been carrying on, it seemed like the perfect idea. Jackson’s reaction was unexpected, but he seems happy about it now. I’ll have to ask Braeden about it later.

  We enjoy our meal and the conversation remains light. We learn about Amelia’s travels through Northern Ireland and the brothers talk about what they’ve been up to since they got here over a week ago. I tell them all about my misadventures when I arrived here and how Braeden was my knight in shining armor. We laugh and the dynamic between all of us is great. I even hear Patrick laugh at one point during the meal. It is nice to see him loosen up, if even for only a second.

  Amelia is sweet and I like her right away. Her and Jackson seem to gel well together. It didn’t surprise me when, after the meal was finished, Jackson told us he’d be walking her back to her hotel. We said our goodbyes to them.

  “There’s a pub next door,” I tell Braeden and Patrick. “Why don’t you guys go and have a few pints? I think I’d like to head back to the hotel and call my grandmother and take a nap.”

  Braeden moves into the spot that Amelia was just in. He puts his hand on my cheek and kisses me. A small, soft kiss. “If you don’t mind. Ireland is playing England this afternoon. Patrick, would you like to go next door?”

  “Sure,” he says.

  I’m relieved. It’ll be good for them to have some brotherly bonding time.

  “Let’s call you a cab.” He gets his phone out and makes a quick call. He stands up and reaches for my hand. “They are on their way. Let me walk you out.”

  “Nice meeting you, Patrick.” I give him a genuine, sweet smile not knowing what I might get in return.

  He stands and extends his hand to mine. He’s tall. At least 6’3” and he’s strikingly handsome. He has a strong, secure presence. And though he isn’t much of a talker, it’s clear he’s a thinker. “Good to meet you, too, Lettie.”