His face was serious. “Yeah.”
“You’re going to teach me how to drive? I already know how to drive.”
“We’ll see.”
“Are we doing this—test—before or after the self-defense lessons?”
“Yeah, let’s go for a drive first.”
“Good.” I held my hands out for the keys. “I feel the need, the need for speed!Also…this will be my warm-up before we start getting hot and heavy in the gym. Also, also,” I said as we both took our seats and I started the car, “I can drive, but I didn’t do much of it. I preferred to ride my bike as much as possible.”
His eyes grew wide as I backed out of the driveway, made the circle around the front of the house, and then hit the gas as I took the long drive out. I preferred to ride my bike, but the Ferrari was smooth and fast, and it felt freeing to be the one driving for once. We stopped and grabbed coffee, and then we passed the Boston Public Library. I slowed down some as we did.
I sighed. “I can’t believe Delaney is getting married there and she doesn’t even know it.”
She’d called me the morning after what she’d shared with the entire kitchen about her first marriage. She’d agreed to marry Robert, but only because she wanted to, not because Cian had scared them into anything.
She said she was only scared to commit, but she decided she wanted to do it. But she told Robert to just surprise her. She went out and bought a simple dress, and the rest was on him. He’d just have to pack the dress in the trunk, so she couldn’t see it, and then drive her to wherever it was going to be, then be like…today we’re getting married.
Robert had decided on the public library. She’d never suspect it. It was one of her favorite places to go in the city. It was so romantic, so beautiful, and I loved that he’d chosen such a special place for their wedding. The library was where they had met. Robert had given me the date and asked that we be there.
At the last second, Cian instructed me to turn. I did. The car only complained a little. He nodded in approval. He continued to do this the entire way back, and I was proud to report my coffee didn’t even spill. He was testing me to see how I’d drive in an emergency situation.
We were going to see how I did with my lesson in defense.Imight need emergency assistance once it was done.
Cian must’ve had every type of exercise equipment available, even things that looked archaic, but my stomach turned some when he moved toward a wide mat spread along the floor. It looked like the kind wrestlers used. He removed his T-shirt, throwing it in the corner.
He turned to me and crooked his finger. “Come here, Maeve.”
“No.” I shook my head. “I feel like this is a trap.”
“It will be.”
“I don’t want it to be.”
“For the next hour, I’m your husband. For the hour after that, you’ll consider me your enemy.”
Oh boy!
It didn’t look like he was going to go easy on me.
I’d removed the slouchy sweater after the first half hour. The gym was hot, like it had a steam room close by, and my skin dripped sweat. So did Cian’s.
The first hour of direction passed in a blur, and when the second hour hit, I had to use all the skills and moves he taught me to get out of his holds. Somehow, we ended up on the floor, and we were rolling around on it, like we were in bed, but much rougher. And when I ended up on top of him, I rubbed myself against his erection.
He groaned and flipped me over, pressing his hips even harder against my stretchy pants. His eyes were dilated, I was out of breath, my heart pounding in my chest, and an easy moment passed between us before it seemed like chaos erupted between our bodies. In the same way we had been going at it on the mat, our hands were going after our clothes.
“Fuck,” he said when he took in the sports bra and the underwear I’d worn. The underwear had two straps on each side, hugging my hips. He pulled one side away, and I hissed when it slapped against my skin. He flipped me over on my knees, my ass toward him, and leaned over my body to whisper in my ear, “You like that?”
“Yes,” I barely got out. A droplet of cool sweat ran down my throat, falling to the mat and exploding before it reached my chest. I rammed myself against him, and his hands gripped my hips, stopping me. His finger traced the path of the panties, which were wedged in my crack, and I closed my eyes and sighed.
“What’s it to be, my intoxication? Will I give you a purpose?” He moved the fabric to the side and slipped his finger inside of me.
I made a strangled noise when he started moving it very slowly, from tip to end, tip to end, pumping, pumping, pumping, stretching my walls.
“Talk to me,” he whispered hotly in my ear.
“You might have already,” I barely got out.
