Saints and Sinners (13 page)

“Won’t they question us?” She searched his handsome profile.

“No. He’ll think we’re just coming home from a night on the town.”

With Reilly’s coat lifted over her head, she dashed toward the double doors of the Meridian. Although he allowed them to pass, the policeman followed them inside.

“Where are you going?” the cop rasped.

Her nose burned at smelling the salve smeared on his chest. Must have a mustard plaster on from the sound of his voice. She remained silent. Let Reilly answer.

“Up to my room, sir. What seems to be going on?”

“Someone called in earlier. Said there was a wild party going on upstairs. All kinds of carrying on, and people doing things I won’t mention in front of a lady.”

“Really?” Reilly said and squeezed her hand.

“You aren’t by chance one of those on the invitation list, are you?” The burly cop continued. “’cause if you are, you’re not going anywhere but out.”

“Believe me, we have no intention of attending any party tonight. All we want is some time to ourselves.” Reilly winked and the policeman winked back.

She let out a long slow breath, and her stomach settled a bit. Her date could charm the skin off a snake. Without a backward glance, Reilly ushered her in the direction of the elevator.

This time, the lanky elevator operator studied them through half-closed eyes. “Hey? Didn’t you go up earlier?”

“No. It’s none of your business when we come or go. Take this thing up to the tenth floor or you’ll be pounding the pavement.” Reilly spoke with such authority.

Moira kept her gaze trained on the elevator floor until they reached their destination. Better let him cool down before saying anything. She only wanted to provoke Reilly’s passion, not his temper.

They reached his suite without problem. Inside, the contents of her reticule lay scattered on the rug. When she attempted to gather the articles, Reilly waved her off.

“Get yourself a nice hot bath. Relax those gams. We nearly ran them down to nothing a while ago.”

Waves of rusty-brown hair spilled over his forehead as he retrieved her red lipstick from underneath a table. Hastily, he removed the lid and trailed his tongue across the flame-colored cosmetic.

“Mmmm. Now I know why you taste so good. Cherries, right?”

Moira nodded, her attention drawn to the ornate mantel. On it rested a gilt frame containing the picture of an attractive couple. The woman’s resemblance to Reilly was uncanny.

She pointed in the picture’s direction. “Is this your mother and father?”

The true blue of his eyes turned blackish cobalt. “Yes. Was is more correct.”

“Was? Don’t you get to see them much anymore?” Were those tears forming in his eyes?

“You can’t see the dead, can you?”

Moira slumped against the hearth. What would she do if she ever lost her beloved parents? Despite their strict ways, she loved them more than anything on earth, but her growing affection for Reilly ran a close second.

Time to salvage the situation. “I’m sorry. I didn’t have any idea.”

Reilly rushed to her side and tossed the lipstick down. They held each other close, trembling, both aware of the nerve she’d struck with her comment.

“Ssssh. It’s okay. Mama died giving birth to my baby brother. She was only forty at the time. I was ten. The baby died a day later. We buried them together. Papa was killed when he tried to prevent a burglary less than a year later.”

“So you were raised by your Uncle Morgan?”

“That be the story. He gave me a roof over my head. Food. Clothes. Even some days in college. But he’s not a man to trust or take lightly.” Reilly turned away so she couldn’t see his face.

”You’re the image of your mama, Reilly. Such a beautiful woman.”

Reilly turned and brightened at this mention. “To be sure. The sunniest face in all of Manhattan. We lived on Twentieth Street. Some antiques and good furniture in our place. Grandda’ Wallace owned a furniture store. Also had interest in a building or two. Had some money, he did, and left it to Mama. He was a businessman to be reckoned with, or so I was told. Good German stock, Mama always said. Good with his hands.”

So, Reilly hadn’t a family to call his own for many years of his life. No wonder he welcomed the chance to talk with her father at his last visit.

“Get out of those clothes before you catch your death, doll face. Can’t have you suffering the same fate as your friend, Janet.”

“She’s never been sick a day in her life that I can remember. Mrs. VanMuir said someone saw her coming out of some club and hanging on to a male friend for dear life. She’s never been one to drink much.”

“Depends on what she had. Some of that hooch can knock a man twice my size off his feet in a matter of minutes.”

Her cold and damp clothing clung to Moira, and she shivered. At Reilly’s urging and direction, she retreated to the bathroom. On seeing the tub, she squealed.

A large claw-foot tub awaited her. So big, she could get lost in it. Running water was a luxury her family only had for the past two years—thanks to her Papa’s plea to the landlord.

“Leave the door open,” Reilly shouted, startling her so much she almost lost her balance while removing her stockings.

“Why? It’ll make a draft.”

“No it won’t. I won’t peek. Unless you want me to.”

“What do you think?” She paused and refrained from removing another garment.

The slap of his shoes against the floorboards confirmed her suspicion. He wasn’t about to let her bathe in peace.

Reilly peeped around the door. “I think you want me to see your bare bottom and all the other pretty things. I’ll wait out here until you give the signal.” He retreated, but only after she shooed him away.

Moira peeled away the soap paper. She almost tossed the cake of French-milled soap at his head but stilled her arm. No sense tossing away a perfectly clean thing after a dirty-minded rascal like Reilly. Actually, she didn’t mind his teasing and talk one bit. Truth be told, she’d enjoyed her evening. Even the part where they ran from the cops and Reilly put his fingers inside of her. She removed the rest of her clothing and jewelry and cupped her moist crotch. What would they do once she took a bath?

Lather soon covered her from chin to chest and all parts below. She wiggled her toes and spread her legs. Such a fancy place. Janet would simply die to learn the details. Tomorrow she would deliver them to her dearest friend.

With the washcloth, she teased the tuft of flaming hair below her belly. She massaged herself and recalled the way Reilly’s fingers played against the same spot only a short time before. If that alarm hadn’t sounded, she might have become a woman sooner as opposed to later.

Moira turned in the tub and craned her neck. No, Reilly wasn’t watching. Beyond that threshold lay his bed and those jet-black satin sheets. Did he always sleep with those on? She slipped her fingers between the folds of her sex. Just as Reilly had done, she rubbed the bud at the very top until it seemed ready to burst.
Oooh, Reilly, to have your tongue on me right now. Teasing me. Pleasing me.

In the opposite room, Reilly burst into song. “Oh, you beautiful doll, you great, big beautiful doll. Let me put my arms about you, I could never live without you...”

Every muscle in her body tensed, and she shifted position in the tub. Soap dripped from her skin, and some of the water sloshed over the side and onto the tile flooring. What was that about not being able to live without her? Did he mean it or was he just singing the words as they’d been written?

A loud pop, followed by an even louder pinging noise, made her grip the sides of the tub. Had someone just fired a gun? It didn’t sound the same, but she wasn’t about to hang around naked just in case. Cool air played over her naked body. Why did she pull the plug? All that warm water gone.

Careful not to make any noise and arouse suspicion, Moira stepped from the tub. She wrapped a towel around her dripping body and crept over to the doorway. Reilly stood beside the bed. Smoky wisps of vapor twisted above the mouth of the champagne bottle he held.

His nostrils twitched and flared. Did he smell her nearness? His blue eyes sparkled, and her sex ached at watching his devilish side again emerge.

“You can’t fool me, Moira. I knew that would rouse you from your bath. Thought you’d enjoy some of this. A fine champagne, all the way from Europe.”

Moira clutched the towel against her breasts. Something about Reilly, something she couldn’t quite decipher, made him such a temptation. A temptation this Irish-Catholic woman couldn’t resist any longer.

Loving someone wasn’t a sin.

“No, thank you.” Water trickled over her shoulders and down her cleavage. The ache between her legs intensified. If he didn’t stop staring, she’d scream.

“Pity to waste even a drop of liquor during Prohibition. Wretched bastards. Imposing their will on people who don’t want it. Hasn’t hurt my uncle’s business.”

Moira headed back to the bathroom, Reilly hot on her heels. Standing in the tub, and still wearing the towel, she watched him enter. Try as she might to prevent them, her lips curled into a smile. “You could have knocked before coming in.”

“Ah, but then it wouldn’t be the same, would it? You’d flit away like a butterfly, sweet Moira. Or stay covered up. Come out of that tub and join me for a sip or two.”

She stayed put and shook her head. Undaunted by her refusal, Reilly approached the tub, champagne bottle in hand.

She closed her eyes and listened to the soft whisper of his stocking feet against the floor tiles. He wrapped a strong arm around her waist and she looked into his eyes. He teasingly traced his index finger over her damp shoulder. As he kissed the places his fingers had touched, his nose nuzzled her sensitive skin. His warm breath fanned against her body. Moira shivered at his skilled touch. Over her upper back, he rubbed the smooth glass bottle, lingering at the bareness just above the towel’s edge.

“By God, but you’re beautiful.” His lips grazed her earlobe. “Let me see the loveliness underneath there,” he groaned, and tugged at the towel. “You’re cold, Moira. Come to my bed. We’ll warm our bodies and explore our feelings.”

Was her awakening at hand? “Feelings? What about our feelings?”

“I feel how my gut is tight. My heart is heavy and my cock is hard whenever I gaze upon you. Come, my colleen. Let us share the night and our feelings.”

Chapter 11

Despite her vow to remain a virgin until marriage, Moira decided to let her heart be her guide. Her body wouldn’t wait, couldn’t wait another day. She’d never trusted a man, cared enough about one, to open her heart and her legs to him, but she trusted Reilly. Would he patiently make love to her as she’d always dreamed? Only two men had ever kissed her, but she’d let Reilly do even more.

Moira opened her mouth to speak, but the words clogged in her throat and failed to come. The bar of rose-scented soap slipped from her hand and bounced against the bottom of the tub. As she bent to retrieve it, the towel came unfastened and fluttered to her feet. No time to even draw another bath.

She met his fiery gaze. Oh, to lose herself in the arms of this ornery man. Reilly’s hungry eyes devoured every inch of her naked body. He tightened his grasp on her waist, drew her closer to the edge of the claw-foot tub, and traced tiny circles around her nipples with the mouth of the bottle.

“Such a beautiful sight,” he sighed into her hair.

A golden stream of cold champagne spilled over her breasts. The liquor cooled her skin as it trickled downward. Several drops shone on the curls at the base of her belly. Reilly gave a throaty growl and doused her again. More liquor splashed over her body and snaked between her legs, dampening and tickling her flaps with its bubbles.

“You’re wasting more than a drop,” she said.

“Not at all. I plan to quench my thirst in a bit.”

Quench his thirst? He must be mad with lust? Moira traced her toe through some of the liquid forming a puddle around her feet.

Without removing his gaze, Reilly reached back and set the bottle in the sink. Now both of his ornery hands were free as opposed to one.

Reilly’s hands wrapped around her waist and then slipped downward to fondle her bare bottom. His hot fingers parted the tender cleft, and she struggled to keep herself from falling.

“Mmmm. Kiss me, Reilly. Kiss me all over.”

He kissed her and his mouth found the most sensitive spots. His hot tongue teased along her neckline and stopped just above her left breast.

“Here?” he asked, and she nodded her approval.

He drew her erect nipple between his lips and sucked as might a baby. Each time she moaned, he bore down harder.

Reilly stopped suckling for a moment. “Your body is meant for a man’s attention.”

“Don’t stop,” she gasped. “Please, don’t stop.”

From her breasts and cleavage, he kissed away all traces of champagne. He knelt and pulled her body close to his face. Into the sensitive pucker of her navel, he placed his tongue. She screamed and pummeled his shoulders with her fists.

Watching him, she wanted more. Fire flashed through her loins, and some of the wetness between her legs covered his lips. Hungry and demanding, he drew several of her maidenhairs between his teeth and tugged. Her legs wobbled, and she let herself go limp against his face. Reilly’s strong hands supported her from behind. Yes, take me in your arms and never let me go.