Fugitive: A Bad Boy Romance (Northbridge Nights Book 2) (22 page)

“
S
o
, I’ve been kind of fantasizing about your cock all day,” I purred, looping my arms around Kieran’s neck. His smell, taste and touch was my ultimate addiction, and I couldn’t get enough. I could hardly focus at work because I was too busy imagining how his nine inches would feel down my throat. He inspired scandalous daydreams I couldn’t quite banish; ones I didn’t want to banish.

But it wasn’t just sex I thought about. I also thought about us, walking hand in hand through the park. Watching sunsets together from my condo. Hugs and kisses and other cheesy couple things. Most of all, I finally stopped living in denial and embraced the truth: I was in love with Kieran Mahoney. Truly, madly, deeply.

And he loved me back.

After all the crazy shit that went down, here we were, together at last. If you’d asked me two years ago about what I saw in the future, I would’ve said, “my husband, Rob, a nice house and maybe a baby on the way.” Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought that
this
would happen. But it worked out for the best, and I wouldn’t change a damn thing.

“You dirty, dirty girl,” Kieran said, “come here.” He pulled me down on the couch with him. “I guess I did promise you four orgasms today. Would you like to get started?” He rolled me onto my back and began kissing my raw skin, which still tingled from the beard burn he gave me last night. “Tell me, what exactly do you want me to do with my cock?”

“Shove it down my throat,” I said, my fingers already working on his zipper. “I want to taste it against my tongue.”

“Now how can a man say no to that?” Kieran said, helping me ease off his jeans. “But first, I have some good news.”

I paused and looked up. “What?”

“I—”

“You did it, you got a job didn’t you!” I said, getting up on my knees. “Oh, that calls for extra special treatment tonight.”

“I like the sound of that,” Kieran said, yanking my long hair. He exposed my neck and nipped the sensitive skin there, causing me to shuffle backwards against the armrest. Pushing me back down, Kieran cupped his warm palms between my legs and growled. I panted in response, and his fingers worked faster, eager to please, eager to reduce me into an incoherent, lust-driven mess. I swallowed hard and panted harder, shamelessly grinding against his fingers and loving every second of it. I thought I could last longer than five minutes, but apparently, I couldn’t. Because within minutes, Kieran’s calculated strokes sent me flying over the edge and quivering from an explosion of endorphins.

“That’s one,” he said, eyes hooded. “Now three more to go.”

“My turn,” I said, tugging down his pants and then straddling his lap. His tight briefs emphasized a very hard, very primed package. I gyrated against him, feeling his rigid length against my entrance, so ready to go, just for me. But instead of removing my underwear, I sank down to the floor and parted his legs. Freeing his cock, I began licking his tip, around his ridge, flicking it over the bulging veins along the shaft…

Kieran shifted beneath me, body loose, head lolled back. Unmasked ecstasy painted his face; he was on cloud nine, and I was the one who brought him there.

Kieran no longer hid behind a stoic wall or even a mask of indifference. He was a changed man. He trusted me one-hundred percent, and he bared himself to me in a way no man ever had. I shared an intimacy with him unlike anything I’d ever had with my ex-boyfriends, and it was a feeling that terrified and exhilarated me at the same time.

I was living wild and free.

I wasn’t following a life script. I’d swerved off the prescribed path—in fact, I was so off-course, I didn’t even know where the path was anymore. And it was okay. With Kieran, I knew everything would be okay.

Sure, he didn’t fit into any cookie-cutter boyfriend molds. So. Fucking. What. He was the anti-son-in-law, everything my uptight Asian parents
didn’t
want for me. I didn’t care.

He had a dark past (that involved drugs, gasp!), no university education (let alone an Ivy League one), no savings, no car, no place to live and he had a poor-paying job. He did more than a decade of prison time and he had some big tattoos (double gasp!). Oh yeah, there was also that crazy hot nipple ring and he was hung like a horse.

And he was…all. Fucking. Mine.

Besides, Kieran wasn’t all tough and buff and no-nonsense.

We joked about everything under the sun. He was a loving father and a fiercely protective boyfriend. He took the fall for someone who didn’t deserve him, and he suffered from abuse without turning abusive himself. If that didn’t deserve my respect, I didn’t know what did.

Kieran fisted my air, wrapping it around his knuckles. “Rach…Oh fuck…”

I popped him out of my mouth with a loud smack. “Come for me, baby. I want you to feel as good as you made me feel.”

Kieran was so gone all he could do was nod. He bit his lower lip and sank his head back against the cushions again. His chest rose and fell evenly as his hands stroked my cheeks and massaged my scalp. I bobbed up and down against him for a few more seconds before I could feel every muscle in his body tense. He erupted against my tongue, his warm seed sliding down my throat. I swallowed two mouthfuls before wiping my lips and kissing his perfect abs.

“Goddamn, woman. I need to recharge my batteries after that performance,” Kieran mumbled. “Come up here.”

I crawled back on the sofa and curled against him, my face nuzzling his neck.

“Rachelle, I never thought in a million years I could feel this way. About anyone. I was a lost cause until you found me.”

“Stop being so emotional,” I chastised. “I fell for bad boy Kieran, not pour-his-heart-out Kieran.” I laughed, my fingers dancing up his shoulder.

“You’re my weakness, what can I say?”

“Say you love me,” I whispered against his ear.

“I love you.”

“That’s all I need to hear,” I said. “What we have is far from perfect, but it’s ours. And that’s all I need.”

“You’re all I need,” Kieran said. “And that’s the last sentimental confession I’ll make for the rest of the week.”

I tossed my head back, laughing. “Kieran Mahoney, you’ve got it
bad.
”

“That I do,” he murmured. “That I do.”

A
ss
,
check
.

Sass,
check.

Class,
definitely check.

Rachelle Wu was the full package, and I’d been waiting a whole year to make her mine.

The timing couldn’t have been better. Kara was coming to stay with us over the winter holidays. Rachelle’s brother and parents were flying in for Christmas. And Cameron just gave me my year-end bonus two weeks early.

The stage was set.

It’d taken a full year for me to build up to this moment. And I relished every second of it. Of course I worked hard. I had something to prove now. I had a beautiful girlfriend who always brought out the very best version of me. She cooked for me, cleaned up my messes and even did my laundry. But she was no ordinary housewife type, no sir. Rachelle was a fearless adventurer who chased adrenaline highs with me. Any given week, we could be seen performing parkour stunts at city parks, mountain biking across uncut terrain, or even ocean kayaking when the weather was right.

Rachelle was a very well-paid criminal lawyer now, and she did her job to perfection. She was cutthroat and professional and most of all, respected. But we weren’t relying on her to pay all the bills. I could never let that happen.

It took a shit ton of convincing, but Cam finally let me run his second bar in Westbridge. Mahoney’s West opened up four months ago, and Cam reluctantly handed me the reins after I promised to treat it like my own baby. No muddy boots on the hardwood, ever.

Since I started working for him last January, we became closer than ever. We were more than brothers, and more than business partners. We were finally great friends. I learned a thing or two about responsibility and in return, Cam rewarded me with something I’d never had before: a sense of achievement and satisfaction at a job well done. Bit by bit, Cam gave me more and more hands-on experience until I mastered every facet of the bar business. Little did I know, he was grooming me to take over his new business and help him expand his empire.

After work, we’d hang out like old buddies. Go golfing, see a few action movies, play poker…and he introduced me to all his friends too. Cam’s friends not only accepted me, they thought I was brave for doing what I did. Stupid, but brave. It wasn’t long before I finally felt accepted, and comfortable in my own skin. Safe from persecution and most of all, redeemed.

I’d moved in with Rachelle last March, after realizing that the apartment I rented sat empty most nights because I was always sleeping over at her place. The sex was still off the chain, and sometimes it even got a little kinky. Our love grew as our relationship grew. We learned to match each other’s rhythms, to compromise and work together, not against one another.

Of course, we also had many domestic arguments. I never cleaned up the sink after shaving; she always monopolized the TV remote. I left crumbs everywhere I went, and she had a compulsion to re-arrange the pantry every two weeks.

I never thought I’d be lucky enough to face those types of life problems. Compared to the damaging issues I’d faced throughout my entire life, these “problems” weren’t problems at all. I was the luckiest man alive.

I checked my appearance in the mirror. My new five-blade razor gave me the closest shave ever, and I’d styled my hair with some lavender pomade. The expensive kind. I was pulling out all the stops tonight. It had to go off without a hitch.

It was December 23rd, and I was about to give Rachelle the best Christmas present ever.

It all started with a cheesy idea I got from Cam. “What if you did a scavenger hunt?” he said. The idea stuck like a seed I couldn’t get out from between my teeth. My mind refused to let go of it, so I nurtured the concept and let it grow. By the beginning of December, my plan was complete.

With Terri’s help, I created a list of simple clues and proceeded to hide them around the city. The tour would take Rachelle to all the places that were important to us: Bar None (where we first met), Eastport Casino, Dalton River, Westport Go-Kart Racing and finally Mahoney’s West. I didn’t want to include Maxfield Prison for well, obvious reasons. Besides, it was too far out of the city.

I’d given Rachelle the clues early this morning, before she even woke up, in the form of a fancy blue notecard on the bedside table. It read:
Go to the first place you ever gave me a boner.

Now she was no doubt putting together all the pieces of my riddle.

Cam, Mike, Jeremy and Rachelle’s friends, Sierra, Callista and Rose, spent the day helping me transform Mahoney’s West into the most cheesy, over-the-top proposal venue ever. Over a hundred candle flames flickered on table and bar tops. Strings of tiny white and blue LED lights dangled from the wooden ceiling beams. There were even hundreds of real rose petals scattered all over the floor.

Now we were just sitting around, waiting until Rachelle followed the clues here. Cam suggested a quick game of poker in the back to take the edge off. All the men took him up on his offer. The ladies chose to hang out at the bar, nursing free Cosmos and gossiping about the show, ‘The Real Housewives of Northbridge’.

She was sure taking her goddamn time. We’d finished our preparations an hour ago, and my nerves were eating me up inside. I kept glancing at the clock every few minutes during our game, wondering why it was taking so long. I mean, my clues weren’t
that
hard to figure out.

It wasn’t until ten to seven that Terri sent me a text message saying that they were on the way.

About damn time!

At 7:06 p.m., when the bar’s swinging doors finally parted, my jaw dropped to the floor.

Rachelle wasn’t just here. She stood in front of me in a simple and elegant white
wedding gown.
With the silliest grin on her face. She was
glowing.

Terri was also wearing heavy make-up and a beautiful purple bridesmaid’s dress. I turned to look for Sierra’s friends, but they’d disappeared.

“What’s going on here?” I asked, walking toward them.

Terri arched her brow. “What does it look like, Kieran?”

“No.”

“Yup,” Terri said.

Rachelle hadn’t said a single word. She was flushed from head to toe, twisting and untwisting the fabric of her dress. Her hair was braided and piled up like a crown on her head. She even wore a veil. All for me.

“H-How?” I stuttered.

“You’re not exactly the most discreet person in the world,” Terri said. “We knew what you were planning the whole time.”

“Oh, Rach is here,” someone said behind me. I turned and saw Sierra, Callista and Rose wearing the same dress as Terri. When did they get changed? And Rose…she was holding Kara’s hand. Even Kara was wearing a matching outfit! Bianca trailed close behind, grinning at me.

Holy shit, this was really happening. My mind raced wildly, trying to take it all in.

“You guys were in on it the entire time?” I asked.

“Of course we were,” Callista said. “Rach has been planning this for a month.”

“Dad, you’re getting hitched. Tonight,” Kara said.

I turned back and saw that Cam and the other guys were wearing tuxes. What the hell? Was I the only one who was clueless about all of this? Had I just spent the entire day decorating my own wedding venue? I was just too much of an idiot to tune into the girls’ hushed voices and furtive glances. I should’ve known they were hiding something.

“No fucking way,” I said to Cam. “You guys too?”

“Kieran, just get changed already,” Cam said, holding out a tuxedo tucked in a protective sleeve.

“Man, he really is clueless,” Mike said. “Dude, you’re getting married. Now.”

Too gobsmacked to speak, I took the tux and darted for the restroom. My heart rammed against my chest, as if threatening to break my ribs. I’d been ambushed! In the most perfect way possible. I was getting married. Not engaged. Married!

“The officiant is here!” Callista said. “Get your ass out here, Kieran!”

“Coming,” I said, taking off my shoes. My hands shook as I unzipped the sleeve and pulled out a pristine black tuxedo. Of course it was the perfect size. Rachelle was always a stickler for details. She’d made sure this entire thing was foolproof and that every detail was taken care of. That was just the kind of woman she was.
My woman.

When I re-emerged, several tables had been cleared and an older woman stood near the bar with a book. Her wrinkled face pulled into a warm smile. “Welcome, Kieran,” she said. “No rush, take your time.”

Rachelle stood in front of the officiant, looking happy beyond words. And nervous too. I noticed that her palms were covered in tiny nail marks, and she kept biting her lips. She’d done something incredible for us. And it took a fuck-ton of courage to do it. I never loved her more than this moment. She’d turned the tables on me, and I loved it.

That sneaky little…
My
sneaky little wife-to-be.

I walked up the rose-petal strewn path and stopped beside Rachelle. “You look beautiful, Princess.”

“Not bad yourself, K. You clean up nice,” she said.

The officiant cleared her throat. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today…”

Everything and everyone melted away as I stared into Rachelle’s clear brown eyes. In them, I found my forever. My one and only. My future and my happiness. I’d come here tonight prepared to pop the big question. Instead, I’d walk out a married man. And I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

Our story was only just beginning, and I couldn’t wait for all that lay ahead of us. With Rachelle, every day was a blessing and an adventure. I was once jaded by the society that kept me torn and oppressed. I didn’t think there was any hope left for me in this pathetic life. Didn’t think anyone would give a broke and broken ex-con a second chance. But the day I met Rachelle, everything turned around for me. The day I met Rachelle, I began transforming into a new man. It hadn’t been an easy three years, but it was so worth it. Because now I had a wife
and
a daughter.

My life was complete.

I would never have to face my demons alone again.