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“Leannán,” he groans, biting down on my neck. He holds deep inside me, coming hard. His tongue licks over the spot he just bit, his head lifting and his forehead pressing against mine. As always, I hope for a kiss, and as always, I’m left disappointed as he sets me down, patting my ass when I move under the warm flow.
Shutting off the water, Paddy towels us dry, picking me up and carrying me to bed. This is new. Sliding under the coverlet beside me, Paddy buries his face in my hair as he wraps himself around me like a blanket, quickly falling asleep.
I think this is one of the first times he has fallen asleep before me. I lie here, staring up at the ceiling, raking my fingers through his hair as I enjoy the feeling of his breath tickling at my neck, where his face is pressed against me.
For someone who I’m pretty sure has never snuggled before, he’s getting wicked comfortable with it. It’s enough to make me feel quite smug. I take the rare opportunity while awake and he’s not to trace my fingers over his face and press a kiss to his temple as I fall asleep.
It’s still dark when I wake up to fingertips tracing gently over my face. When my eyes flutter open, my breath catches because Paddy’s face lies inches from mine, his eyes open and following the path of his fingers as they brush across my skin.
Paddy’s fingers cease their movement when he sees I am awake. Moving them from my face down to my neck, he cups its base loosely with his hand.
I wait, but he doesn’t speak, simply lying here, his hand resting on my neck, his eyes burning into mine.
“Is everything all right, Paddy?” I whisper. He watches me for a moment longer, sighing.
“Sometimes, lass, you look like you’re in pain when you sleep.” His eyes search my face as I blink in surprise at his observation. “Why is that?”
“I…uh,” I stutter, casting my mind around, trying to think about what I was dreaming of right before I woke up. Oh. “I was dreaming about Josh,” I whisper sadly, and Paddy’s fingers stroke at my throat.
“How did he die, lass?” Paddy’s whisper sounds loud in the silent room. I swear I canhearmy heart beating so hard as I swallow painfully, the tears pooling in my eyes.
“He was sh-shot,” I manage before the tears start to fall.
Paddy stares at my face, more specifically, at my cheeks, watching my tears with a look of horrified fascination on his face. He quickly lifts me onto his chest, cuddling me close, his lips moving against my hairline.
“I was at work.” I speak into his chest as he runs his fingers through my hair. “When the police came to speak to me, I was at work. They took me out into the back, sat me down, and told me that Josh’s b-body had been found in an alleyway in Dot.”
Paddy’s lips are moving on my forehead again. I close my eyes, seeing the image of Josh’s face as he lay cold on the metal table at the morgue, the hole in his forehead, right where Paddy’s lips are now pressing against mine….
My eyes bug out as I shove away from Paddy. I’ve caught him off-guard, so by the time he moves to grab at me, I’m already out of bed, running for the bathroom.
I get there just in time, dropping to my knees, the cold, hard tiles underneath them as I vomit into the toilet.
“Lass?” Paddy has followed me into the bathroom. “Fuck, Lauren,” he swears softly.
His hands gently lift my hair, holding it out of my face as I vomit until there’s nothing left in my stomach. I’m trembling all over, my eyes closed, a light sheen of sweat coating my face once I’m done. Except I can still see Josh’s face, so I keep heaving, even though there’s nothing left to expel.
It hurts, but I can’t seem to stop. Paddy kneels quietly behind me, his fingers stroking my hair and the nape of my neck.
Once I have finally stopped heaving, Paddy gathers me in his arms and moves us to the shower. Sitting on the floor with me tucked between his legs, he turns on the flow. The warm water washes over us, landing on the side of my face as I rest it against Paddy’s chest.
“Feeling better, lass?” he asks, stroking this thumb over my cheek. Wearily, I nod against his chest.
“They made me look at him. At Josh’s face.” My voice is small and broken when I speak, my throat sore from all the dry heaving.
“The police?” Paddy clarifies, his thumb still stroking my cheek.
“Yes.” I nod again. “To identify him, they said. There was no one else.”
Paddy doesn’t say anything else, and neither to do. I lie here, under the shower spray, while he strokes my face until I fall asleep.
Chapter Twelve
PADDY
“Pa wants to see us.”
Seamus looks up from his inventory lists as I lean against the doorjamb of his office at Oracle, the strip club he’s in charge of running.
