“Emmett?”
It’s Mary. I don’t stop and wait for her. I can’t face all the questions or the fake sympathy. Fianna should never have shown her the portrait; she knows how important it is to me, and until today, she was the only other person who has ever seen it.
Why? What was she thinking, showing Mary Oisin’s portrait when she knows nothing about her? I can answer my own goddamned question. She was thinking that Mary is part of our lives now, which means that she should know all there is to know about us, including what happened to Oisin.
“Emmett! Wait! Can I talk to you?”
She’s still fucking following me. I head through the mud room and out the back of the house, pulling a waxed coat off the hook as I go.
The door bangs open behind me. “Emmett! Can we please talk?”
“Go back inside, Mary!” I glance over my shoulder at her, framed by the mud room doorway, her mane of red hair all wild around her face.
Big mistake. I’m half tempted to turn around, go back, and tell her everything, but what’s the point in forming a connection when this will all be over in nine days’ time?
I hear the door close behind me. No footsteps. She finally got the hint that I don’t want to talk about this.
I head to the stables. I haven’t ridden since I was here last year. I just need to get away from the house for a while, alone, rearrange the thoughts inside my head, and make room for the Christmas spirit that’s going to take over the family today.
My horse, Jupiter, nudges my hand with her nose, still happy to see me after all this time. There is no love quite like that of an animal. Unconditional, pure, heartwarming.
“Hey, girl.” I nuzzle her face, a goofy smile appearing from nowhere. “I’ve missed you.”
I feel the sharp stab of guilt in my chest. I would miss Jupiter if I thought about her, but burying myself in work when I’m in New York is a coping mechanism. If I don’t think about her, about my mom and dad, about home, everything else is manageable.
I saddle her up and fasten my helmet as Mary walks into the stables with Fianna. She’s wearing one of Mom’s coats and Hunter wellies, and for a moment, she looks like this is exactly where she belongs. How has she managed to infiltrate my family home, charm everyone I know, and claim this setting for herself?
I let Jupiter out of her stall, anger blooming inside my chest. I only have myself to blame, but it won’t stop me from wallowing in a little self-pity right about now.
“I’ll leave you guys to it.” Fianna heads outside, leaving Mary behind.
“Emmett. I’m sorry. I didn’t know about your cousin.”
What does she want me to say? It’s okay; I forgive you for snooping into my life.
“Is that it?” It sounds way harsher than I intended, and I see the way she winces, but I don’t soften the words.
“I-I’m here if you want to talk about it.”
“Aye, well I don’t.” I keep walking, Jupiter bobbing her head happily at the prospect of a ride across the land.
It feels good to be back in the saddle. It’s the only time I ever truly empty my mind, wipe everything clean, ready to start afresh.
Only I haven’t gone far when I hear a cry from somewhere behind me. Tugging on the reins, I bring Jupiter to a halt and turn her around to find Mary on the ground, Fianna’s horse, Misty, whinnying as she trots around her.
“What the fuck?”
I could keep riding, but I’m not that much of an asshole.
Dismounting when I reach her, I help Mary onto her feet and check that she isn’t hurt. “What happened?”
“I don’t know.” She chews her bottom lip and shies away from the horse as she comes back for her rider.
I stroke Misty’s mane and hold onto the reins to keep her still. “She’s calm now. Did you even know where you were going?”
Her mouth twists into a half-smile. “I was going to follow you.”
“Mary, I—”
“I’ve never ridden a horse before.”
“You what?” It takes my brain a beat to process this information. “You’ve never ridden a horse before. You could’ve broken your neck. You could’ve caused some serious harm to the horse. Do you have any idea how fucking irresponsible this was?”
Her eyes grow large with tears, and my anger ebbs away leaving me with the overwhelming desire to wrap my arms around her and tell her that everything is alright. No harm done. But of course, I don’t.
“I didn’t ask to see the portrait, Emmett. Fianna showed me, and then, when you showed up, I saw how much it meant to you…”
She’s rambling, but I stopped listening after she said my name. The way it sounded on her tongue, like it was meant to be there, made me feel like even more of an asshole for yelling at her.
“You mounted a horse even though you had no idea how to ride her?”
The smile is almost back as she chokes out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “I know it was stupid. I wasn’t thinking. I mean, I always thought it looked easy.”
I peer out across the land towards the stream. This isn’t quite what I’d planned, but I’m no longer angry with her. What she did was crazy, but I sense that her intentions were good—if she wanted to destroy me for drugging her, forcing her to wear someone else’s engagement ring, and abducting her all the way to Ireland, she would be back inside the house doing it right now.
I check that her helmet is fastened securely, avoiding making eye contact, but feeling her green eyes on me the whole time. Then I check the saddle.
“No wonder you fell. You didn’t even fasten it here.” I show her the buckle that’s flapping about beneath the horse’s belly. “You had no control over her.”
“Control. Right.” She chews her bottom lip, and I wonder how it would feel to kiss those lips again. For real this time. Not because we’re keeping up appearances.
“Do you want me to show you?”
Man, those eyes… She gazes at me, wide-eyed like I just told her she won the lottery, and I wonder if she has any clue just how goddamned sexy she is when she looks at me that way.
“Would you do that?”
“Here.” I gesture for her to put one foot in the stirrup and hold her waist as she climbs up into the saddle, ignoring how good she feels in my hands. “Get comfortable. Make sure both feet are in the stirrups and hold the reins with both hands.”
“Do I talk to her?” It’s a genuine question, and I can’t help smiling.
“So long as you don’t expect her to answer you back.”
She giggles, and I realize that this is the first time she has laughed because of something I’ve said. I want to hear it again.
“Now what?”
I show her how to urge Misty into a gentle walk and then I mount Jupiter, falling into step alongside her. We walk in comfortable silence. Mary is concentrating on staying in the saddle, which gives me the opportunity to watch her unnoticed.
She’s graceful without even trying. There’s no fear behind her eyes, only awe and respect for the horse, and gratitude for the new experience she has been given. Finally, my eyes settle on her profile, the flushed cheeks, the curve of her lips, the strands of unruly hair sneaking out of the helmet. My blood starts pumping around my body. Or more specifically, it starts pumping directly into my pants.
We stop and dismount by the stream. The ground is too cold and damp to sit on, so we tie the horses to a grand old oak tree and throw pebbles into the water. Mary has never skimmed a stone across the water’s surface before and acts suitably surprised when I hit four hops.
“Chrysler isn’t my real name.” She tosses a stone sideways, mimicking my actions, and frowns when it produces a gentle plop. “I adopted it when I moved to New York.”
“What’s your real name?”
“Scanlan.”
She faces me, and it suddenly slots into place: the faint accent, the sense that she belongs here, my mom’s comment that Mary is a beautiful Irish name.
“I never felt as if I belonged here.” She faces the water, chewing on her lip again. “That’s an understatement. I didn’t belong here. I spent most of my childhood in the foster care system being moved from foster family to foster family, none of whom understood that the word ‘care’ was in the system for a reason. So…” She inhales deeply. “As soon as I was old enough to leave, I booked myself a ticket to New York with the money I stole from my foster father’s bank account.”
She isn’t looking for sympathy. She isn’t waving her hands in the air and saying, “Hey, look at me. As if I didn’t have enough shit in my life already, you had to come along and abduct me, asshole.” And I realize that I’ve never known anyone quite like Mary Chrysler before.
“Why New York?”
She turns to me and smiles. “It’s the city that doesn’t sleep. I thought I could lose myself in the big city. Blend in, you know. Become invisible.”
Most people move away, leave their past behind to find themselves, but Mary wanted the opposite. It occurs to me then what a shameful waste that would be.
“Did it work?”
“Ha! It did until two days ago.”
Cue one Emmett O’Hara and his game changing plan to kidnap her and save her life.
“Mary, I…”
What can I say? I’m sorry I dragged you all the way to Ireland and introduced you to a family that will never be yours. Because what kind of asshole would do that to someone who has never had a proper family to call her own?
But before I can say anything in my defense, a glint of silver in the water catches my eye. I put my hands on her shoulders and turn her around to face the stream. “Over there, Mary.” I lower my head so that our cheeks are almost touching and point at the salmon that are swimming just beneath the water’s surface.
“What am I looking for?” I feel her whisper-breath on my face and force myself to concentrate.
“Salmon. Watch the surface and you’ll see them.” Man, she smells so good. Her hair tickles my face in the breeze, and I want so badly to entwine my fingers in it and kiss her pale neck…
She gasps, jerking me back to reality. “I see them. They’re huge.”
I smile over her shoulder. Maybe I should move away from her right about now, put some distance between us before she realizes that I want to bend her over and fuck her from behind right here where anyone riding past would spot us. But I realize that she doesn’t want me in that way, and who can blame her?
Then, she’s looking right at me, and her eyes are even greener than I imagined, and when she licks her lips, I close the distance between us before I can stop myself.
My kisses are hard and hungry. I push my tongue into her mouth, and she tilts her head back to accommodate me, her hands sliding in my hair and clinging onto me like she doesn’t want to let me go. She wants this too. She wants this as much as I do.
I pick her up, wrap her legs around my waist, my tongue still in her mouth. Her eyes are closed. But she doesn’t pull away.
I take her to the closest tree, set her down with her back against the gnarled trunk. I fumble with the zip of her coat while our tongues meet inside her mouth. Yanking it open, I lift her sweater and expose her breasts, pulling away just long enough to look at them.
She’s so fucking beautiful.
“Emmett…”
I smother her mouth with mine again, sharing my oxygen with her, the blood pumping into my cock and erasing everything else that’s going on in my mind.
“I want you so fucking badly, Mary…”
I scrape her hair away from her face, slanting her chin and tilting her head back even further. Her erect nipples are burning holes through my waxed coat, and I unzip it, shrugging it onto the damp grass behind me.
“Emmett, wait…”
My face is above hers, our eyes locked. “Do you want me, Mary? Say you want me.”
“I-I want you, Emmett,” she whispers.
It’s all I need. I dip my head to her nipples, squeezing her breasts together and sucking on them both. I nibble them between my front teeth, tease them with my tongue, squeeze her breasts. My cock throbs when I hear her gentle groans.
I unfasten her jeans and drag them down over her hips, the flesh on her thighs popping with goosebumps. She gasps as the chill meets her exposed skin.
I drop to my knees in front of her, ignoring the damp seeping through my pants. The hair around her sex is so goddamned fair, with glimmers of red, that I take a moment to admire it before I spread her thighs with my hands and insert my tongue.
“Emmett!” She’s panting. Her hand is in my hair. Her legs are trembling.
I find the spot and drag my tongue back and forth, peering up at her erect nipples as she arches her back and thrusts them forward. I want to see her face. I want to watch her come while I taste her orgasm on my tongue, but she has a fist stuffed into her mouth, and it’s happening too quickly.
I stop, spread her thighs even wider and insert a finger. She’s wet. I start fucking her with my finger, ramming it in all the way. Her pussy clenches around me, and she’s so fucking tight.
I pull my finger out and stand up. I remove her fist from her mouth, and she looks dazed, ready to come all over me the instant I touch her again. I kiss her with my mouth open wide and fill hers with my tongue. When she responds, I slide my finger between our lips so that we’re both tasting her at the same time.
And Mary laps it up. She opens her eyes, watching me, taking it all in.
“That’s you, Mary,” I murmur. “Do you like tasting yourself?”
“I…” She blinks several times.
“You taste so fucking good.” I lick her off my finger, watching her reaction. “Say it, Mary. Say I taste so fucking good.”
“I…” She stops and I lick her lips so that she can taste herself on me too. “I taste so good.”
“No, Mary. I taste so fucking good.”
She gasps as I slide my finger back inside her. I pin her against the tree trunk with my body and pull away, waiting for her to repeat it. When she doesn’t, I try inserting a second finger, slowly, easing it in while she pants through it.
So fucking tight.
“I can’t hear you, Mary.”
“I taste so … fucking good.”
I ram my fingers inside her and she leans forward on me, her breasts bouncing against my chest. “How does that feel?”
“Good.” She gasps as I ram her again. “It hurts… Just a little.”
“Shall I kiss it better?” My lips are on hers. “Mary, do you want me to kiss it better?”
“I don’t want… Will anyone see us?”
“Don’t worry about that, Mary. No one will come this way. It’s just me and you.”
“Yes, then. I want you to kiss it better.”
I smile at her. Good answer.
On my knees again, I grab her thighs and raise her feet off the ground, pinning her between me and the tree. Spreading them wide, I can get my tongue right inside her, and fuck, she tastes good. She closes her eyes, screws them tightly shut, giving in to her orgasm which explodes onto my tongue.
I don’t waste a beat.
I lower her feet back onto the ground, flip her around, and bend her over, unzipping my pants and pushing my cock into her from behind. It’s like slamming into a wall. She wraps her arms around the tree, panting. Soft groans escape her mouth, and I lean over her, my cock still throbbing inside her, my lips on her ear.
“Is there something you want to tell me, Mary?”
“No.”
I stick my tongue in her ear. “Are you sure?”
A shudder passes through her, and I push my cock in a little deeper. Trying to penetrate the wall.
“I’m sure.”
“You wouldn’t lie to me, Mary, would you?” I tease her with my tongue in her ear. Holding onto her hips with both hands, I push harder, releasing a breath when something gives. “Were you waiting for me all this time?”
My cock throbs with excitement. It’s like this is my first time too, like our bodies were waiting for each other to come along, and I know I won’t be able to control it for long.
“Yes,” she gasps.
“Oh, Mary…”
I support myself against the trunk with one hand, and push her upper body lower with the other, so that I can feel the pressure of her pussy around my erection. Then I pull myself all the way out, slowly, enjoying that tightness.
“Are you ready for me, Mary?”
“Yes.”
I take it slowly, all the way in, all the way out, until I can’t hold it any longer. Gripping her shoulders tightly, I explode inside her, my pelvis thrusting against her perfect creamy ass.
When my cock has stopped throbbing, she squeezes me out with her pussy, and I zip my pants back up. I help her upright, pull her jeans back up to cover her nakedness, and lower her sweater over her perfect pink nipples. Then I fasten her coat and straighten her hair.
She watches me the whole time, those green eyes trying to see straight through me.
I kiss her on the lips. Gently. Nuzzle her nose.
“You’re fucking beautiful, Mary.”
“Emmett…”
“We should get back.”
I take her hand and help her mount Misty before untying both horses and climbing onto Jupiter. I wasn’t lying when I said that she was fucking beautiful. I wouldn’t be lying if I said that what just happened was fucking amazing too. But walking the horses slowly back towards the house, the enormity of what I’ve done hits me all over again.
This isn’t real. The ring on her finger doesn’t mean a goddamned thing because it wasn’t mine to give. We barely know each other even though we work in the same building in New York.
But all this pales when I think about Oisin. He’ll never get married. He’ll never get to experience what we just did. He’ll never see another Christmas or meet the love of his life or hold his baby in his arms.
I don’t deserve this. And I definitely don’t fucking deserve Mary.
She looks so serene sitting on Misty’s back, her cheeks flushed with excitement. I had to go and ruin it by crossing a line when all I had to do was be polite to her, get through Christmas, and send her on her way. Nope. Me and my testosterone just couldn’t leave her alone, could we?
When we reach the stables, I help her to dismount, my hands tingling when they touch her.
“Mary, this doesn’t change anything. I understand if you hate me, but when we get back to New York, we go our separate ways as planned.”
And like the fucking coward I am, I walk away from her without a backward glance.
