Chapter 2

EMMA

Two months later… Where am I?

Not that it matters. The décor is sexy as hell and the low music playing is exciting and a lot of fun.

I’m enjoying it.

But mostly, I’m into that hot guy who’s reaching out his hand to me.

“Hey there,” I rasp as I fall against his body, my lips eagerly finding his. Fuck he feels incredible.

“Get on the bed,” he growls in a mysterious voice as he walks me backwards. Much to my surprise, there really is a bed behind me. “I need to see you.”

Usually, I don’t have this much confidence, but this smoking hot stranger is looking at me like he wants to consume me whole.

God damn it! I need to be devoured by this man!

He tears my clothing off me, roughly, before tracing bruising nips and kisses all over my heated body.

I’m definitely going to have welts… not that I’m complaining!

“I… I want to see you too…” I rasp.

The tall, muscular, tattooed man might only be vaguely familiar to me, but I know I want him. My whole body is throbbing for him, aching to feel him. That’s all I need to know.

He takes his time unbuttoning his trousers, seemingly enjoying the way I can’t take my eyes off him. He doesn’t even need to remove his boxers for me to see the effect I’ve already had on his body. His thick, throbbing erection seems to be pulsing for me, too. It takes every scrap of willpower I have within me not to jump up and wrap my body tightly around the stranger, to crash our flushed bodies together already.

He climbs onto the bed, crawling towards me like a predator coming for his prey. And here I am underneath him, willing to be consumed.

“I’ve wanted you ever since I first laid eyes on you,” he murmurs as he runs his hand lightly down my cheek, but before I can respond, his fingers curl tightly around my throat, ever so slightly choking me.

Now I know this must be a dream.

No one in the world knows about my sordid little fantasy but me.

It feels fucking good, though. As the air sucks out of my lungs and the man edges himself ever downwards, a dizziness starts to consume me. I don’t know how much longer I can control myself.

I’m already shuddering desperately, so by the time his fingers lightly graze my clit, my body bucks with need. Lightning bolts all the way through me, electricity shoots all over. The man growls with pleasure, loving what he’s doing to me, continuing to trace the most phenomenal feeling patterns all over my throbbing nub until I can’t take it anymore.

I need him.

Now.

“Fuck…” I stammer breathlessly. “Fuck me, I need you… I want you to fuck me…”

But the man doesn’t listen.

Instead he plunges his soaking wet fingers deep into me, giving me a new sense of pleasure, while his hot breath follows his rough hot tongue, swirling around my clit, tasting me, running his mouth all over me in the most incredible way possible. I honestly didn’t know that I could feel this good. I had no idea that a man could make me feel like this.

The pleasure is so deep, so intense, so powerful. It seems to come from a brand new place within me—one I’ve never explored before—and I adore it. I grab the stranger’s head to keep him in place because I never want this to end. I want him to keep on tasting me until he tips me over the edge into the abyss.

With one hand still on my throat, his other digs deep into my thigh, his nails piercing my skin.

But the pain only makes things that much more thrilling.

“Holy shit.”

The pressure of pleasure floods my body. I can’t contain it any longer. I want to remain where I am for a little while longer because this feeling is just so wonderful, so warm and fuzzy, but my pounding heart, which is shooting burning hot blood through my body, won’t let it happen…

I fall back as the pleasure crashes through me, as the orgasm bucks and racks through me. The hot bliss burns through me, rocketing over me—the waves don’t stop coming, it’s absolutely endless. A tsunami of pleasure that I can’t get enough of.

This is phenomenal.

I never want this to end.

Whether this is a dream or not, this is not a feeling I want to let go of.

I glance down once more, looking at the man between my thighs. Only this time, the face isn’t one of a stranger. I don’t think he’s ever been a stranger, really; it just took me a moment to work out who he is.

But now I know, and it makes the pleasure that much more overwhelming.

Wilson Anderson.

Holy shit, the homeless guy that I see regularly in the clinic. He’s the one doing this to me?

A little part of me always thought that he might know his way around a woman’s body, but wow… I’m blown away.

If only I could stop that horrible shrill sound from trying to pull me away from Wilson. I want to talk to him, to know more about him. We never get a chance to talk…

Ring, ring… Ring, ring… Ring, ring…

But he’s slipping through my fingers like grains of sand. I can hardly even remember the sensation of pleasure which was so strong and overwhelming only moments before.

I’m being tugged away from this man’s arms and there isn’t a damn thing I can do to keep him here.

I snap my head upwards, blinking furiously, trying to let reality flood me once more.

Ring, ring… Ring, ring… Ring, ring…

I find the clock first. It’s three AM, which means I’m on break.

At the clinic, working, but having a break.

I’m not really supposed to nap during my downtime here, but I don’t think anyone will mind. All my colleagues are just like me—wanting to help as much as we can, even if it sometimes leaves us drained and in need of a time out.

Oh shit.

But as soon as I grab my cell phone, all warm and fuzzy feelings subside. It’s my father, and at eight AM his time, I know this will be a serious talk.

He always has his serious chats first thing.

“Hey, Dad.” I do what I can to sound upbeat and happy.

“Emma.” Oh God, he’s grave. “Why haven’t you been in touch with me? You know that we’re all waiting here. The whole fucking country of God damn Ireland is waiting for your answer.”

My heart sinks. He isn’t ever going to like my answer, which is why I don’t give it.

“I’ve been busy, Dad. I haven’t had time to think…”

“Fucking hell, Emma. Do you know who we’re dealing with here? This isn’t just you choosing what shoes to wear to prom. This is Rickie Flynn Junior and a marriage proposal.” As if I need to be reminded of that. “He’s getting impatient, you know that, right?”

I sigh heavily. “But it helps you, doesn’t it? Having me here in New York with my ear to the ground, helping you out that way…”

“Emma,” Dad snaps, shutting me down completely. “Don’t be ridiculous. The best way you can help me right now is to marry Rickie so I can get him and his family off my back.”

I open my mouth, willing the right answer to come out, but no words do. I don’t know how else to say ‘no’. I don’t know how to make it clear that this is the last thing I want. An excuse comes out instead. “Oh, Dad,

I’m working and there’s an emergency. I need to call you back…” He’s still talking but I end the call anyway.

I’m so done.

I can’t keep having this conversation. Not when I’m not getting anywhere.

Why would anyone want to marry a womanizer and drunkard? Rickie Flynn Junior isn’t just that. He’s known to be cruel as well. Plus, marrying Rickie means returning to Ireland, which is out of the question.

I left for a reason.

I sure as shit don’t want to go back.

“You have a plan,” I remind myself as I rise to my feet, ready to get back to work. “You’re going to prove your worth, and then…”

Well, then, hopefully, any talk of marrying some asshole will be long out the window. I just want to be here, living my own life, freely. I don’t care about all the mob drama in Ireland. I never wanted to marry as a pawn in the games of the different families to make bonds stronger.

I want to be my own person.

As I grab myself a much needed mug of coffee to give me a caffeine boost before I return to work, I let out a little chuckle, recalling the dream that flooded me a little while ago.

It’s not much of a surprise that Wilson Anderson was the man in my dream, even if the mind-blowing sex was a little out of left field. I’ve been thinking about him a lot recently, ever since I met him really, because he’s a big part of my plan.

Well, if I can get him on board, that is.

“Ah, there you are,” my co worker, Lily, calls out. “I was just coming to get you. The place is filling up again. You know how it is at this time of morning. Plus, I think I just overheard a guy asking for you personally.” Is that Wilson?

I can’t imagine anyone else asking directly for me.

Uh oh, now I’m grinning like an idiot. I don’t want Lily to be suspicious.

“Oh right, well I’m coming. Just sipping my coffee first.”

Lily salutes me playfully before heading into her own clinic room, eager to help whoever needs her.

I take a deep sigh before I make my way out to the crowds. Honestly, so much happens in the night time, I can’t believe there aren’t more clinics like this around the city.

But my eyes are only seeking out one person.

If Wilson is here right now, then I might finally speak to him about my plan. We’ve been growing closer over time, and I think we have something of a friendship brewing between us now, so it might work.

It also may not, who knows.

I can’t see him anyway, so I don’t know who the hell was asking for me. Weird.

Just as I’m about to ask at reception who wanted me personally—if there was anyone at all, I don’t know now if Lily was mistaken—a crashing sound, like glass smashing, silences all of us. Everyone in the room stops what they are doing and turns to the source of the sound.

What the fuck?

As people start to sink down to the floor or raise their hands above their heads, it starts to click what’s happening here. This is danger; we’re in danger.

Fuck, this shit is serious.

There’s a man… with a gun.

A gun that’s being waved around the room like a maniac is wielding it.

Who would want to threaten a clinic? We don’t even have the sort of pain killers in here that someone might be seeking out.

A lump forms in my throat as I find myself facing the unimaginable horror of a gun being pointed in my face.

But that doesn’t turn out to be the worst part.

It’s the face behind the gun.

The homeless man, the man I thought was my friend, about to help me with my plan.