Chapter 57

The music greeted them as they pushed through the door, the lively Irish tune had them smiling as they waded through the crowd to a table in the back. A trio of musicians were crowded into a corner booth, one playing a squeeze box and singing, one a fiddle, one a pennywhistle. A waitress, a pretty young girl with big blue eyes and a mile of red hair, rose her voice along with the music.

"What's the news? What's the news? O my bold Shelmalier,
With your long-barrelled gun of the sea?
Say what wind from the sun blows his messenger here,
With a hymn of the dawn for the free?"
"Goodly news, goodly news, do I bring Youth of Forth
Goodly news shall you hear, Bargy man!
For the boys march at morn from the South to the North,
Led by Kelly, the Boy from Killane!"

Cilla tapped her toes to the lively tune and sipped at her glass of Harp as they waited for their food. When their plates were set down in front of them she looked at Jon’s and then back at her own. He had what looked to be half a cow on his plate and her salmon was looking a bit underwhelming. She smiled at Jon, “how do you feel about surf and turf?” He looked at her plate, down at his and smiled back at her, “amenable.” Slicing off portions of their entrees, they swapped.

Taking a bite, Cilla could feel eyes on her, watching her every move. Looking up she found David watching her. “What?” She had to raise her voice to be heard over the music.

He shook his head, taking a bite of pasta from his plate, but continued to watch her. “Nothing.”

She took another bite, “you’re staring at me David. Do I have food on my face or something?” Even as he shook his head she continued, “it wouldn’t be the first time.” She was determined not to let him get to her, determined to get him to like her. “Did Jon tell you I sputtered iced tea all down my chin the second time we met?”

His eyebrow rose in surprise and he looked at Jon, “really?” Jon smirked and nodded, “yeah” he winked at Cilla, “she did.”

David’s smile turned to a smirk, “maybe you should wear a bib darlin’, just in case.” She looked up at him with just a hint of a smile; “I don’t think it’s me that needs to wear a bib, darlin’” she uttered the endearment like an epithet and indicated to the front of his shirt, “you know, I’ve seen you open your mouth to sing, you’d think you’d be able to get the food in it without a problem.”

He looked down, “shit” and started to blot with a napkin. He had dripped pasta and cream sauce down the front of his shirt.

As the guys laughed David caught Cilla’s eye and winked. How could he have been so wrong about her? He could see now that he shouldn’t have rushed to judge. Of the few women Jon had dated since his divorce, she was the only one who had made an effort with any of them. She wasn’t just some simpering female who wanted all of Jon’s attention. She seemed to genuinely be interested in all of them. “You know Cilla, no one's ever told me I had a big mouth quite the way you just did. I like you; you’re all right.”

Cilla chuckled and sipped her beer, “you’re not so bad yourself.”

~

They were still laughing when Jon dug in his pocket for the room key. Closing the door behind them he headed for the bathroom. “This is why I don’t usually drink beer” he joked. “You only rent it for a while.” Cilla laughed but couldn’t disagree. She had made more than one trip to the ladies room at the pub herself; and, except for Richie, they had all drank more than their share of the standard Irish brew.

Jon found her standing at the window when he came out of the bathroom. He moved up behind her, “everything okay Sweets.” The moon was high in the sky as they stood there and she rested her head back against his shoulder, “yeah. I’m going to be sorry to leave tomorrow night. I think David finally likes me.” Jon turned her to face him, his thumb caressed her cheek, "he does Sweets. No more worries?” She raised her mouth to his, “no more worries.”

The kiss was sweet and unhurried. Jon sighed into her as he eased his way out of it and held her close. He didn’t want to think about her getting on a plane and flying away from him. Even if he asked he knew she wouldn’t stay with him, no matter how badly she might want to. Her innate sense of responsibility would prevent her from staying. She could want something that badly but in the end, she would do the right thing, no matter what it cost her. It was just one of the many things he loved about her.

Silently they moved away from the window, the lure of the bed too great to ignore. Jon skimmed the silky tank over Cilla’s head his eyes feasting on the gray and black silk and lace covering her breasts. When her jeans fell away he groaned at the tiny matching g-string she wore. “God Sweets, you love to torture me, don’t you?” She nodded her head as her hands skimmed up his sides, pushing at his shirt. He pulled it off and hissed as her mouth latched on to one pebble hard nipple.

His hands skimmed down her slender form, caressing every subtle curve, hauling her close with his hands cupped around her ass. Their mouths met again, the kiss hungrier, more urgent now. Laying her across the bed his gaze roamed over her. He watched, fascinated, as her nipples hardened under his gaze and her eyes went smoky with arousal. Kneeling at her feet he kissed her instep, stroked his tongue up her calf, laved the soft skin at the inside of her knee.

Cilla trembled as his mouth cruised over her. Shuddered at the feel of the rough denim he still wore as it slid across her skin. She cried out when his hot mouth closed over a nipple, taking it in, silk, lace and all. Would it always be like this? When his hands slid her panties away and he cupped her, stroked her, she was lost.

When he pulled his hand from her to rid himself of the irritating denim she whimpered. “Shh baby” he hushed her as he moved over her. His muscles jerked and his cock jumped as her hands roamed over him. Popping open the front catch of her bra, his mouth followed the lace cups as they scraped across her fevered flesh. His mouth found hers as her hand closed around him, he groaned into her as she stroked him, bringing him ever closer to the edge of his control.

When he could take no more, he pulled her hand from him and nudged her thighs apart. Pressing forward he slid into her, reveling in the warmth that surrounded him. They moved together, taking and giving, each pushing the other, climbing toward that peak until all they could do was fall over together.