Wild Irish Rebel (9 page)

Chapter Eighteen

Morgan cursed herself
the entire walk, well run, home. As she huffed up the hill to her apartment she glared at anyone who dared to smile at her. What had she been thinking? Morgan had been on a high after her time with Fiona, thinking with hope for her future for once.

The cold slap of rejection was enough to bring her head out of the clouds. She should have expected this. Never in her life had someone stuck by her side. It was the reason she refused to get into relationships, Morgan reminded herself as she pounded up the worn wooden steps of her building. It would be best if she just kept her head down, worked hard, and didn't socialize much. Eventually she'd save enough money for her to move on to the next town.

Morgan slammed the bag of food on the counter and trailed her hand over the smooth countertop. Turning, she looked around at her little space. Damn it, she thought. It would be hard to leave this. Battling back the sadness that threatened to overtake her, Morgan systematically put the food away, refusing to waste anything even in her sorrow. She could eat on these groceries for the rest of the week.

The rest of the week, Morgan thought. Straightening, she crossed her arms and paced across her apartment. That would be how she would take it then. One week at a time. She'd grow her savings and in a few months, pick a new place and keep moving. Which was stupid, Morgan thought, because she'd finally put down roots.

A loud buzz caused her to shriek and she turned, one hand over her heart and the other over her mouth. The buzz continued incessantly and Morgan's eyes tracked the apartment, trying to find the cause of it.

"An intercom?" she said, rushing to a small box by the door that she had never seen before. It appeared she needed to pay more attention to her surroundings, she thought.

The buzz continued, grating against her ears, so she ran to the door, and leaned her cheek against it, pressing her ear to hear anything on the outside. She pressed the button once.

The buzzing stopped.

Morgan waiting, straining to hear anything.

The buzz made her jump again and she stepped back, realizing that there was another button on the intercom. She pressed it down, and spoke hesitantly into it.

"Hello?"

Morgan heard the door slam below and the pounding of steps on the stairs. She jumped back and smoothed her hair, realizing that she had inadvertently pressed the button to release the lock on the door in the lobby of the building.

Morgan struggled through a breath as she waited, knowing it was Patrick, and not knowing what to do. She'd never had a man in her space before, let alone a large, angry, testosterone-filled man.

A knock at the door made her jump. Morgan stood there, considering her choices.

"If you don't open this door I swear to God, I will kick it in," Patrick cursed outside the door and Morgan fumbled with the latch, pulling the door in.

Her eyes tracked to Patrick's face, and she was immediately lost. He looked wonderful, she thought in surprise. His eyes were bright with anger, his cheeks flushed, and his hair was mussed in a way that made her want to run her hands through it. Nervous, she licked her bottom lip as she watched him, unsure what to say.

"I brought wine," Patrick said, and Morgan looked down at his hand, a bottle clutched there.

"Um," Morgan said, and then wanted to kick herself for not having something suave or cool to say. It crossed her mind that she should send him packing for the way he had treated her at the pub. 

"Aw, the hell with this," Patrick said. He pushed past Morgan and placed the bottle on the counter. Turning, he kicked the door closed and grabbed Morgan around the waist.

In seconds, Morgan was pressed to the door, with a very angry, very passionate man holding her to it. All of her senses went on alert at once and she froze, paralyzed from wanting him…scared of taking this next step.

Patrick lowered his mouth to within inches of hers. Looking up from beneath his lids, he pinned her with his gaze.

"I'm going to kiss you now. And I'm not going to stop," he breathed.

Heat flashed through Morgan and she struggled to remember Fiona's lesson.
The switch, picture the switch
, she screamed at herself. Moments before Patrick's lips touched hers, she slammed the switch to off in her brain.

And her world opened up.

Feeling free for the first time in her life, Morgan wrapped her arms around Patrick, digging her hands into his thick hair, and kissed him back with all of the exuberance and inexperience that she had. Moaning into her mouth, Patrick slid his hands down to her legs and cupping her butt, he lifted her until her legs were wrapped around him and she was pressed to a very hard, and very manly part of him.

Unable to help herself, Morgan squirmed against him, relishing in these new feelings that he was creating in her body. His lips continued to caress hers, his tongue expertly dipping into her mouth to play with hers.

Morgan broke the kiss and clasped his face in her hands. They stared at each other, inches apart, their breath coming in ragged bursts.

"I thought you just wanted to be friends," Morgan gasped out.

"I've never wanted to be friends with you, Morgan," Patrick said, his stare intense.

"What do you want?" Morgan whispered, trailing her hands over his arms, amazed at how strong he was. He lifted her like she weighed nothing, holding her imprisoned between his arms.

"It's been you. Since the moment that I saw you at Keelin's wedding. That first dance…that everything. I haven't looked at another girl since. It's been killing me to get closer to you," Patrick gasped out, his arousal and need evident for her both in his words and his hard length pressed between her legs.

"Oh, oh God, Patrick, I want you too, I just –" Morgan's words were cut off by Patrick's mouth and he seduced her slowly with his lips, his hands caressing her cheeks, his body pressed tight to hers.

Gasping, Morgan broke the kiss, scared she would get pulled too far under, not knowing how she would ever stop something that felt so good. Part of her wanted to bury her face in his neck and have him just hold her.

"You want me," Patrick said, his voice low with need and anger.

"I do. But, I just, Patrick, I've never done this before," Morgan rushed out and Patrick's eyes flashed to hers.

"Never done what, to be exact?" Patrick said carefully.

"This, relationships, kissing, sex, all of it," Morgan rushed out and then closed her eyes, heat creeping up her cheeks.

"You're a virgin?" Patrick asked, incredulous.

"Yes, and you're my first kiss at that," Morgan whispered, her eyes closed, refusing to look at him.

"Well that explains a lot," Patrick mused and Morgan's eyes shot open.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Just why you were so skittish with me. I was certain you didn't like me," Patrick said, a wide smile growing across his face. He looked like a cat that had just licked a bowl of cream.

"Why is this so funny?" Morgan demanded, glaring at him.

"It's not funny. It's amazing and wonderful and you're mine, all mine," Patrick crowed out as he pulled her away from the door and did a little spin with her in his arms. Morgan went a little dizzy as he set her down, her body sliding down his. Placing her hands on her hips, she glared up at him.

"Who says I'm yours? You're making a big assumption here," Morgan said, feeling grumpy for some reason.

"I say. But now I know that I'll have to take it slow with you. It will be fun to introduce you to all sorts of…pleasures," Patrick said, trailing his finger down Morgan's neck to brush it across her nipple. Morgan jerked and swallowed.

"Patrick, I don't know how to do this and I am not just talking sex." She batted his hand away from her breast, where heat was trailing through her body and her nipples were standing at attention, begging to be touched.

Patrick stepped back, his hands raised, a wicked smile on his face.

"Okay, so you don't know how to be in a relationship? Let's talk about it. Over dinner. I believe you were going to cook for me?"

Morgan huffed out a breath, not sure what to do, knowing that for some reason he annoyed her and attracted her at the same time. This must be what love was like, she thought.

"I may or may not cook for you," Morgan said, her nose in the air.

"You will. Because I've been on my feet all day and haven't eaten. You wouldn't want me to starve, would you?" Patrick asked, his voice pleading and charming at the same time.

Morgan huffed again and turned, a smile on her face as she dug into the contents of her fridge.

"Well, be warned, it's my first time cooking as well. So, I may kill you," Morgan said as she pulled the package of ground beef out and the other ingredients for a tomato sauce.

Patrick wandered closer and looked down at the ingredients.

"Spaghetti and meatballs? Perfect. I'm good at this one, we'll do it together," he said, feeling warm and bright and just so male next to her.

Together, Morgan thought.

There was a first for everything.

Chapter Nineteen

Hours later, Morgan
felt like her face was stretched from smiling so much. Patrick sat close to her on the loveseat, and he'd pulled her legs over his lap. A warm glow from the wine dulled the edge of her anxiety, and she couldn't remember when she'd had a better night.

"Thank God I was here to cook, you'd have started the whole place on fire," Patrick commented, teasing a laugh from Morgan.

"I would not have," Morgan said, smacking him lightly on the arm.

"Sure and I know the smell of burning meat now, don't I?" Patrick raised an eyebrow at her outrageously and Morgan giggled, biting her lip.

"The meatballs turned out just fine," she said staunchly.

Patrick ran his fingers over her ankle, sending heat shooting up her leg. She tried to focus on what he was saying.

"I'll have to teach you how to make a fine Irish stew," Patrick mused, continuing his hypnotic rub of her feet. "You can make one pot and eat off it all week."

"I'd like that. It's just me here so if I can save money on groceries, it makes sense," Morgan said.

"Is money tight?" Patrick asked, tilting his head to look at her. Morgan lost herself for a moment in his eyes. He was just so handsome, she thought.

"It's better than it's ever been." Morgan batted the question away.

"Were things rough growing up?"

And just like that, Morgan felt her walls go up. Damn it, she cursed herself.
This is what people do in relationships
, she reminded herself.
They share about their pasts
.

Shrugging, Morgan pulled her feet from Patrick's grasp.

"I was in and out of foster homes. Money was never easy to come by and I never really had anything extra or a home of my own. This," she gestured to the studio, "is the first home that I can call my own. Aside from my van, that is."

Uncomfortable with the subject and wishing that they could go back to laughing about easy topics, Morgan stood and moved to her small kitchen. She braced her hands on the side of the sink as she waited for the water to warm.

"I lost you there, didn't I?"

Patrick's voice came from right behind her and Morgan jumped a bit. She dashed a quick smile over her shoulder and began to scrub the pot.

"It's fine. It isn't my favorite subject to talk about is all."

"I'm sorry," Patrick said simply.

Morgan shrugged again and berated herself for making a big deal of it.

"It's nothing. Can't change the past." She rinsed the pot and reached for a plate. "You had a big family?" Though she knew the answer, Morgan thought it was best to keep the conversation off of her and on him.

A beat of silence greeted her and then a sigh.

"Yes, a big loving family. There's nine of us total, not counting my parents," Patrick said from behind her and Morgan stiffened. Turning, she looked at him, her mouth hanging open.

"Nine? Nine brothers and sisters? You seemed like you came from a big family, but, wow," Morgan said, mentally trying to wrap her head around having to meet and remember eleven members of his family.

"Well there's more now as most are married and have kids. I'm the baby." Patrick grinned at her and Morgan groaned.

"Perfect, just perfect," she muttered and turned to scrub viciously at the plate.

"You'll have to meet them sometime," Patrick offered.

Morgan continued to grumble into the sink.

She jumped when Patrick's arms slipped around her waist from behind.

"They'll love you," Patrick said, his lips hot at her neck.

"Maybe," Morgan said, noncommittally. She highly doubted they would love her but she would put that thought on the backburner until she actually had to meet them.

"Why don't you put those dishes down so I can repay you for dinner." Patrick's mouth was at her neck and she shivered at the meaning in his words.

Carefully placing the dish back in the sink, Morgan did her mental off-switch routine before turning to face Patrick. She opened up her senses and scanned him with her mind, while she lost herself in his eyes. For all of the edge and stubbornness he had, Patrick had a kind heart. And, his need for her bordered on desperate.

Morgan slid her hands up Patrick's arms before hooking them around his neck and pulling her body tight against his. She wished that she could be some brazen seductress but instead she'd have to settle for brushing her lips across his and hoping that he would lead her.

And lead her he did. Morgan moaned against Patrick's lips as he hefted her again, sliding his arms beneath her thighs to hold her tight to his body. Slowly, he backed from the kitchenette until his knees hit the bed, his lips never leaving hers. Morgan gasped against his mouth, ravenous for more, a need clawing through her that she didn't know how to deal with.

"I want…I want," Morgan said against his lips, not knowing what she wanted, only knowing that she didn't want him to stop.

Patrick eased down on the bed with Morgan now straddling him. The position provided her with intimate knowledge of his lust, and she ground herself against his hard length, craving his nearness.

"Shhh," Patrick laughed at her and then rolled, dislodging Morgan so she lay on her back on the bed, bracing his arms around her head.

"Patrick," Morgan said, struggling to breathe easily.

"Let me," Patrick ordered and trailed one hand down her side until he reached the bottom of her shirt. He tugged a little and Morgan realized what he was asking. Nervous, but excited just the same, Morgan lifted herself and pulled the shirt over her head, and made quick work of her pants as well. She propped herself on her arms, suddenly feeling like she wanted to hide, and pulled her long hair to hide the plain white bra that covered her breasts.

"Beautiful," Patrick whispered, reaching out to still her hands. He tucked her hair behind her shoulders and traced his finger across the strap of her bra. "You have no idea what you do to me."

"Really?" Morgan said, pleasure and a newfound confidence seeping through her. "I wish that I had sexier underwear or something."

Patrick laughed and closed his eyes for a second.

"Trust me, plain white can be really hot. It’s really sexy on you. I'm barely holding back here," Patrick said, continuing to toy with the strap of her bra, his eyes on hers.

Morgan reached behind for the clasp of her bra.

"Show me…show me how you feel," she whispered, unclasping the bra and pulling it from her body.

"Sweet Jesus," Patrick breathed and reached out with both his hands to cup her breasts. Morgan jumped as his thumbs brushed across her sensitive nipples and on a curse, Patrick crushed his mouth to hers.

She was lost, so lost, Morgan thought as she fell into a spiral of heat and emotion. Her body seemed fluid and warm under his touch, her mind so completely focused on the sensations he was pulling from her that she didn't once worry about if anything in her apartment was levitating. A coil of heat seemed to form low in her stomach, and she moved her hips against Patrick's, knowing she wanted him to touch her more.

"You're so beautiful," Patrick murmured against her lips as he slowed his caress on her breasts and pulled back to look at her.

"Thank you, you're really handsome too," Morgan said awkwardly and then blushed.

Patrick laughed and toyed with the waistband to her underwear, his eyes tracing her body again before coming back to meet hers.

"I want to touch you everywhere," Patrick said softly, heat lacing his words.

Morgan gulped as her mouth went dry. She nodded, nerves tingling up her back.

"Lie back," Patrick ordered and pushed Morgan gently back onto the bed. He moved to lie propped on one arm, staring down at her.

"I'm going to go slow and if you want to stop, just tell me," Patrick said, nuzzling into her neck and nipping at a sensitive spot there that sent shivers down her back.

"Okay," Morgan said.

"Close your eyes," Patrick said and Morgan looked at him with concern.

"Why?" she stuttered.

"Because I want you to feel. Just feel," Patrick said softly, bringing his lips to her face, kissing her eyes closed.

Morgan closed her eyes, trying to do what he said. Thoughts ping-ponged through her mind. Where would he touch next? Should she touch him back?

"Morgan."

Her eyes shot open as she squinted up at him.

"What?"

"Relax. You're scrunching your whole face up to keep your eyes closed." He laughed at her and Morgan felt herself relaxing.

"Oh, sorry." She smiled and closed her eyes, letting the tension release from her face. With her eyes closed, her senses were heightened and when Patrick brushed his hand across her nipple again, she moaned.

And jerked when he replaced his hand with his mouth.

"Oh, oh my," Morgan said, as a new and decidedly delicious sensation rippled through her as he kissed her breasts, licking gently at her nipples.

Unable to help herself, Morgan arched her back, loving the feelings that Patrick was sending through her body. He continued to kiss her breasts as he slid a hand under the waistband of her underwear. Morgan stiffened involuntarily and then relaxed as Patrick kept his hand still, just lightly toying with her waistband. Morgan wondered why he didn't keep going. Craving more, almost desperate to know what these sensations inside of her were demanding, Morgan lifted her hips to move Patrick's hand further down onto her.

Patrick chuckled against her breasts and Morgan wanted to scream. She needed something, anything, to release this ball of tension that had formed low in her belly.

"Please," Morgan gasped out, unable to articulate what it was that she wanted, but knowing that it was probably the elusive orgasm that everyone always talked about. It wasn't like she'd been hiding in a bush all these years at school. She'd just never had the opportunity to experience it.

Nor had she ever trusted someone enough to touch her this way.

Morgan moaned as Patrick slid his hand lower to find her slick with heat. The lust in her belly kicked up about ten notches and Morgan found herself writhing, desperately aching for release, before Patrick finally slipped his fingers inside of her and took her over the edge with one nudge.

A beautiful wave of heat and release washed through her, slamming her back to the bed as pure joy rocketed through her. It felt like all of her nerve endings fired at once and Morgan shouted out, unable to contain her joy in the moment. It was so crystalline and perfect, she wanted to bottle it and sell it at the store.

Morgan opened her eyes to find Patrick smiling down at her, a very satisfied look on his face.

"Thank you," Morgan said, smiling up at him.

"I think you needed that," Patrick said, leaning down to brush his lips over hers, before pulling his hand from her underwear. He sat up and checked the clock.

"I should be going," Patrick said.

Morgan sat up, crossing her arms over her breasts, to look at him in confusion.

"That's it? What about you? What about…the rest of it?" Morgan motioned with her hand, confused, not sure if she was being rejected.

Patrick leaned forward, his shoulders strong and wide over her, as he nibbled gently at her bottom lip.

"I want the rest of it. But I promised you that I would go slow. So, slow it will be," he said against her lips.

Morgan reached up to hook her arms around his neck, her bare breasts pushing into his chest, her sensitive nipples enjoying the contact.

"But, what about, you know, you?" Morgan said against his mouth.

"It won't be the first cold shower I've taken since I've met you," Patrick said and pulled her arms from around his neck to stand.

"Really?" Morgan said, intrigued by the thought of him lusting after her, a newly found confidence seeping through her.

"You don't have to look so delighted about it. Now, I know it's late and you've got to work in the morning. Can I take you to dinner…" Patrick paused and thought about it. "Sunday? Would Sunday work? I'm on close the rest of the week. You're welcome to come and keep me company at the pub though."

Morgan tilted her head and considered that.

"The village will gossip."

Patrick brushed a finger over her nose.

"They already are."