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I nodded at the group and escorted Anna out of the building in silence, the blood rushing through my body and to my cock. As soon as we were out of eyesight from the building, Anna stopped walking and spun to face me. She flung her arms around my neck and pulled her body flush against me.
“Jesus, Anna,” I growled before her lips hit mine.
Her sweet tongue swept into my mouth, teasing me as my cock pushed hard against her.
“Oh my God, that was torture,” she cried when she pulled away from the kiss.
I tilted my head back, my body charged and ready for her. “No kidding.”
“Why’d you come to that bar? I thought you were with friends.”
Truth or . . .? “I was with Les, actually, but I think my heart jumped from my chest when you texted me where you were.”
“Leslie? Is he back in town?”
We hadn’t talked much about him, and I’d still been vague on the details. “He is.”
“Maybe I should meet him.” She folded her arms across her chest.
“Let’s wait until the heat is off.”
“What heat? Those guys?” She held her hands up. “Actually, I don’t think I want to know.”
“No?”
“I’d like to stay in the fantasy world we’ve been cocooned in all week.”
Shit, so would I. Although, Anna was no fantasy. What I felt for her was all too real. I lowered my head as a sharp, stabbing pain of regret pushed through me.
I wasn’t allowed to be happy, was I? It wouldn’t be goddamn fair.
But I wasn’t ready to lose her yet. I wanted a little more time.
“Let’s go back to the hotel, okay?” Her eyes were pleading.
“Anything you want.”
“Thank you.” She turned away from me but then stopped again. I practically bumped into her.
“What is it, love?”
“Um.” Anna was staring at someone just inside an alley off to our right. “I think I know her.”
“What?”
Anna started to move toward the figure sitting on the ground, leaning against the building.
“Oh my God. It’s you.”
The girl’s military-grade boots were unlaced, and her body was shaking a little. She wasn’t dressed for the weather—probably homeless. The homeless situation had been spiraling out of control in Dublin lately. My company had been trying to do its part to help out, but still . . .
The girl looked my way, her eyes in a daze, and I shifted down to my knee in one quick movement. “Abby! Abby, is that you?”
“Mr. McGregor?” The girl’s voice was throaty. “It’s me.”
I looked up at Anna over my shoulder, wondering how she knew Abby. “Abby, what happened?” I turned back to her, fumbling with her sleeves. There I found the evidence of what I hoped I wouldn’t see on her arms—track marks. She’d been using again. “Abby, I thought you stopped. Where have you been? You haven’t been to the center in months. We’ve been trying to find you . . .”
“Guess you didn’t try hard enough,” she whispered.
