First and Only: Callaghan Brothers, Book 2 (6 page)

Because there simply were none.

* * *

S
pent, Ian collapsed.  He was vaguely aware of her kissing his face, stroking his hair.  It felt good, so good.  She simply held him as his body shook and shuddered above hers, until he finally calmed.

He must have dozed off.  When he woke his arms were filled with the most wonderful warm, soft flesh.  The feeling of contentment was a new one for him; he had never stayed long enough to experience this before.  But then again, he’d never had a woman like this before, either.

It had been stupid – no, make that beyond stupid – to engage in unprotected sex with a woman he’d met on a bus.  Yet even now, he could not imagine sheathing himself with her.  Yes, it was stupid, but the damage was done.  No sense putting one on now, or for the next several times he planned on taking her.  Like now.

He nudged her, trying not to think too much about how his heart swelled at the sleepy little smile or the satisfied little moan she gave him.  Without a word, she welcomed him, denying him nothing.

I
an woke up feeling more rested than he had in weeks, but with the unmistakable feeling that something was missing.  He glanced around, remembering where he was as all of the memories flooded into him.  His cock jerked up sharply, causing him to shake his head.  He’d never had trouble with stamina before, but last night he’d surpassed even his own expectations, taking the woman repeatedly, coming harder each time.

Where was she now?  He looked around the room, already knowing she wasn’t close.  He didn’t have to see her to feel her; his senses seemed to jump into über-mode when she was around.  He mentally added that to the list of things he didn’t want to analyze the meaning of just yet.

He listened carefully, but heard nothing within the room or the en suite.  A faint hint of vanilla and citrus hung in the air, mixing with the scents of a night filled with incredible sex. 

Ian frowned.  Waking up alone was not on his top ten list of things he’d most like to do this morning.  He would have much rather preferred some more morning sex, followed by a hot, steamy shower together where he would soap up every inch of that luscious body he’d come to know so intimately, then maybe more sex.  After all, he didn’t have to be anywhere until...

Ian looked at the small digital clock on the bedside table and jolted upright.  “Shit!”  The glowing numbers told him it was 10:45.  The viewing was already underway, going till 11:30, to be followed immediately by the Mass.  His father was going to skin him alive.

He ran back to the Pub and took the stairs two at a time, grabbing a two-minute cold shower and donning his black suit.  No time to shave, he thought, glad that he had chosen to do so right before heading over to the hotel the night before.  At least he didn’t look too bad.  The dark circles under his eyes had disappeared, leaving him with the satisfied look of a man who had spent a good portion of the last twelve hours making a goddess scream out his name in rapturous pleasure over and over.

His thoughts were consumed with the woman as he made his way to the funeral parlor.  Who was she?  Why was she in town?  And how the hell had she managed to sneak out of the room this morning without him hearing her?  One thing was for sure – as soon as his obligations here were met, he was damn sure going to find some answers.

Glad for his SEAL training, he slipped among the shadows into the back as if he’d been there for hours.  The funeral home was packed with townspeople, and no one seemed to notice his late arrival.  His brothers, however, had the same training he’d had and were more aware than most.  He bore their accusatory glances stoically.  It was their father he was most worried about.

Brian O’Connell had been a friend of the family’s for as long as he could remember.  He and Jack Callaghan had served in the special forces together, and had formed a bond that only those captured and tortured together could ever truly understand.  Out of respect for both his father and Brian, Ian forced himself to shove aside thoughts of last night to concentrate on the present.

“Glad you could make it,” Kane’s voice hissed in his ear.  Damn, but his eldest brother was a sneaky bastard.  No wonder they always called on Kane when stealth was key.  “The old man’s been looking for you.  I hope she was worth it, bro.”

Ian clenched his jaw but said nothing.  Hell yes, she’d been worth it.  If she had been there when he’d woken up this morning, there was a damn good chance he wouldn’t be here now.  He’d be buried deep inside the sweetest, tightest, wettest...

“Ian.”  Jack Callaghan’s voice sounded on his other side as Ian tried to keep his face neutral.  Thankfully, his father didn’t say anything about him being late; the uncharacteristically worried look on his face was concerning something else.  “I want you to stick close to Kayla and her mother today.  Try to keep her from doing something... stupid.”

Ian raised an eyebrow, but nodded.  Kayla O’Connell was Brian’s stepdaughter.  Tall and model-like, stunningly beautiful, she drew a lot of male attention.  Until fairly recently, she had been a bartender at the Pub and a willing participant in some of the darker forays of sexual adventures with Jake and himself. 

At least until Jake found his
croie
– his soul mate – in Taryn.  Now Kayla looked to Ian, but he balked at a one-on-one.  Jake was the one she was always after, and though Ian had been willing enough to be an occasional third, he wasn’t interested in batting clean-up, for two reasons.  First, she did nothing for him other than provide a physical release, which, really, was easy enough to come by.  And second, even if he
had
found her desirable, he had too much pride to be anyone’s second choice.

Thankfully, Kayla didn’t come by the Pub too much anymore, except when she knew Taryn wasn’t around.  Taryn was fiercely protective of Jake – and Ian, oddly enough - and, unsurprisingly, had not taken to Kayla in the least.  Taryn believed Kayla was a heartless, manipulating bitch (her words). 

In all honesty, Ian had to agree.  Jake wisely avoided her whenever possible, and the rest of the clan seemed content to do the same.  The atmosphere around the Pub post-Kayla was warmer and more welcoming all around.   

Jack clasped his son on the back.  “Good man.”  He was gone before Ian could ask any questions.  He turned to ask Kane what the hell he’d meant by that, but the big, sneaky bastard was gone too.

Ian threaded his way across the reception area toward the front where the family sat before the casket receiving visitors.  From across the room, Sean shot him a satisfied, cruel grin. 
This
, it said clearly,
will teach you to be late.

Kayla and her mother sat regally in hand-carved, richly-cushioned mahogany chairs, dressed the part in full black regalia.  Ian offered his condolences to the widow as Kayla grasped his hand and pulled him down close to her.  People milled about everywhere, taking up all available space.  Brian O’Connell had been a staple in the small, predominantly Irish community.

“I simply cannot believe
she
had the nerve to show up here,” Kayla hissed into his ear with surprising venom. 

Ian looked up, having no idea whom she was talking about.  He followed her glare to the other side of the room where he spotted his youngest brother, Kieran.  Kieran was talking to someone, but Ian couldn’t see who it was past his huge frame.  The kid was built like a freaking Mack truck on steroids.  But, judging by the protective stance Kieran had assumed, Ian could guess who it was.

“Lexi’s here?”

“The little bitch,” Kayla hissed.  “Playing the poor long-lost daughter routine.  Look at them over there.  Grown men falling all over themselves like she’s some kind of princess or something.  It’s
pathetic
.  Where’s she been for the past ten years, huh?” she paused, digging her claw-like nails into his forearm.  “At least you have some sense.”

Ian frowned.  Lexi O’Connell was Brian’s daughter from his first marriage, before he had married his second wife, Patricia, and adopted then-teenager Kayla.  Lexi was Kieran’s age, several years younger than him, so that would put her at around twenty-four or so now.  For a while, she and Kieran had been inseparable.  Lexi had been a scrawny little thing, afraid of her own shadow, and Kieran’s innate white-knight tendencies had him adopting her as the little sister he’d always wanted. 

Ian had been in his senior year then, with plans to enlist immediately after graduation, but he could still remember how devastated his brother had been when she left town unexpectedly.  There had been a lot of speculation and nasty rumors, but he’d never heard the real story.

But from what he remembered, Lexi was nothing like what Kayla was describing.  She’d been a tiny little thing, shy, quiet, always hiding behind Kieran when he’d drag her home with him after school.  Being the center of attention was probably the last thing that she wanted.  Judging by the way Kieran was shielding her with his body and the way his brothers had arranged themselves protectively around her, he was willing to bet that not much had changed.

Another group of people stopped in front of them to pay their respects.  With Kayla’s attention diverted, Ian used the opportunity to glance back toward the corner again.  He couldn’t help feeling that this was somehow wrong.  Brian’s daughter should be sitting here before the casket, too.  Surely she was grieving, even if she had been away for a while.  After all, you never stopped loving your parents, did you?  Didn’t she deserve some of the support and empathy from the people who had come to pay their last respects? 

He’d heard there was a lot of bad blood between Kayla and Lexi.  Now he understood the worry on his father’s face and his request to keep Kayla in check.  Given the chance, she’d cause a scene.  Kayla loved to have the starring role in a good drama.

Kieran stepped to the side and all of the air whooshed out of Ian’s lungs in one swoop at the sight of the familiar figure.  The long, shimmering hair.  The big, amber eyes.  The full, womanly curves.  God help him. 

Alexis Kattapoulos was Lexi O’Connell.  

He’d spent the night having sex with his brother’s childhood best friend the night before she had to bury her father.
  His stomach roiled uncomfortably, and he was suddenly glad he hadn’t had time for breakfast.

Misinterpreting his reaction, Kayla smiled cruelly.  “I know. Ugly little bitch, isn’t she?”

Irrational rage surged in his chest.  Had Kayla been a man, Ian would have broken her jaw right then and there.  He fought to regain his composure.

Alexis –
Lexi
– God, how could he have missed that?   She looked like an angel, standing before the glass in the far back corner, the light from the window forming a nimbus around her hair, now smoothed and shiny, clasped loosely at the base of her neck with an antique-looking silver clip.  She smiled at something Kieran said, but it was a sad smile.  Kieran reached down and grabbed her hand, in friendship, Ian knew, but still a tightness formed in his chest.  Against all reason,
he
wanted to be the one with her, even though he knew just how wrong that would be. 

As if sensing his gaze, she turned to him then.  It only lasted a moment or two, but the look on her face was locked in his mind forever. 
Now you know
, it said quietly, as if he could hear her speaking the words in his head. 

Like pieces of a puzzle, it all started coming together.  Her initial attempts to keep her face and eyes hidden, afraid that he would recognize her.  Her reluctance to go out to dinner with him.  The look on her face when he offered to show her around. 

It hadn’t been disappointment he’d seen in her eyes; it was hurt.  Because he didn’t remember her.  Because to him, she was just a girl he was trying to hook up with.  God, he was such an idiot!  How could he not have seen it? 

But the most amazing thing of all? 
She’d spent the night with him anyway,
giving him more pleasure than he ever could have imagined
.

Lexi turned away as Jack Callaghan took her arm and began to lead her toward the back exit, away from the masses gathering for the exodus to the church.  Kayla grabbed his arm again as they were shuffled toward the limos.  He caught a brief glimpse of gold silk getting into his father’s Infinity before the door closed and they were whisked away.

Hell, he’d give anything to be in that car with her right now.  To know what she was thinking.  Did she hate him?  Hate herself?  If he could only talk to her, get her alone for a few minutes.  Instead, he’d been relegated to –

“... if she thinks for one second that she’s going to sit in the front pew with -“

“Kayla, enough,” Ian said firmly.  Kayla looked stunned, unused to Ian speaking to her that way.  “Don’t cause a scene.  This is neither the time nor the place.”

Kayla narrowed her eyes for a few moments, then licked her lips.  “You’re right, of course.  It would make me look like the baddie, wouldn’t it?”

Ian mentally rolled his eyes.  He’d known Kayla was cold and self-centered, but even he was shocked by her total lack of propriety.  “Yes,” he agreed quietly.  “It would.”

––––––––

A
t the Mass, Ian sat behind Kayla and her mother in the first pew.  Lexi sat on the opposite side, toward the back of the church, between his father and Kieran.  He was grateful that they were there for her, but he couldn’t help the simmering resentment that it was them and not him.  Then again, maybe this was how she wanted it.  He certainly couldn’t blame her. 

How could he have not known it was her?  Had he been that blinded by lust?

The answer was a resounding yes, he had been.  It had hit him hard and fast, and from the moment his eyes had found her on that bus, he had to have her.

The lust was still there, and in spades, but no longer blinding, reduced to just a torturous ache. Now that he knew, he could see the familiarity.  She was still below average in height (Kieran always teased her about being “fun-sized”), she still had the same delicate, slightly exotic features, and the quiet, almost-stoic air.  But in his defense, her slim girl’s body now held the lush, full curves of a woman.  Her hair was much longer, an intricate palette of fiery color.  And her eyes, once rarely seen because they were usually downcast in shy reserve, were golden amber depths of passion.