The Hurricane

O’Connell lifted our joined hands and kissed the back of mine.

“You really have no idea how fuckin beautiful you are, do you? I’ve knocked out guys at the gym already for looking at you the wrong way, and I’ll fuck up anyone else who tries.”

I rolled my eyes half-wondering if he’d be better off peeing on me to stake his claim, like a dog marking his territory.

“Well, no more fucking anyone up, okay? If I’m ever ready to date anyone, you’re at the top of my list, so save all the aggression for your fights. I have a hard enough time dealing with you boxing in the ring where there are rules, let alone out of it.”

He squeezed my hand in agreement, though I noticed he didn’t make me any promises.

“Baby, I’d better be the only one on that list. I feel like I’m gonna lose you before I even get a chance. I’m fucked-up possessive over you. I know that, and I’m afraid that you’ll get sick of all the bullshit that comes with me.”

It wasn’t like O’Connell to freely admit any of his insecurities. I appreciated knowing that he came with his own baggage, too. We made it to my building all too soon and he turned to face me.

“I’m not gonna rush you, okay? I’ve never wanted anyone as badly as I want you, but I want you to trust me, too, so I’m gonna kill myself and take this slow. When you’re stronger, when you’re ready to give me a chance, I’ll be here.”

I nodded because I was incapable of replying. It was human nature to want to jump his bones. He was the most amazing specimen of man that I’d ever seen. But I needed slow. Time was the only thing that would bring back the pieces of my soul, but I had the feeling that O’Connell might turn out to be the glue that held them all together.

Walking me up to my apartment, he unlocked my door and handed me back the keys. He reached his hand around my nape and pulled me to him for another kiss. The minute I started to appreciate his firm soft lips, I sighed, and his tongue slid into my mouth to caress mine. The ache between my legs intensified until the only thing that I was aware of was the desperate need to have my lips on his skin and find relief from this exquisite torture. His hand slid into my hair holding me to him more tightly, as if there was anything more than a whisper of air between us anyway. His free hand moved from the small of my back to my arse, pressing my pelvis to his. At the feel of his rock hardness against me, I couldn’t help but moan, and he ate it up, pressing harder. This wasn’t a delicate seduction. O’Connell’s actions were deliberate and unapologetic. He didn’t try to discretely work his hand down my back as we kissed in the hope that I didn’t notice what he was doing. No, he practically mounted me to him because, despite my protestations of friendship, my body wanted this. If his skills so far were anything to go by, I doubted I would have been sorry to let it go any further.

“Fuck,” he muttered, as he pulled his lips from mine. “That was supposed to be me saying goodnight and taking it slow.”

“If you tell me that’s how you and Kieran say goodnight, I’m really going to start worrying.”

He chuckled then bowed his head toward me. “One more kiss before we go back to being friends?” he suggested.

“Uh, huh,” I murmured. “Goodnight then,” I whispered and pretty much attacked him right back. My hands slid into his hair and pulled his huge frame down until I could trap his lips between mine. He groaned loudly against me, the vibrations rocking through my body and intensifying my craving. After a few minutes, we were both out of breath, and with his hands still firmly pressed against me, he tucked his head into the crook of my neck and inhaled deeply.

“You’re like an addiction, sunshine. It’s making it difficult for me to do right by you. But I want this too badly to fuck it up.”

“You know,” I reassured him, “you’re pretty addictive yourself. No one’s ever made me feel like this.”

It killed me to imagine that this could be our last kiss, but despite what my body wanted, I knew that no relationship would ever work until I had time to sort out my head. I could only hope that he would still be willing to give me a chance when that day came, and I needed to know that he would stick around before I gave him any more of myself. There would come a time where I needed to tell him about the monsters under my bed, but not yet. They weren’t going anywhere. They never did.

“Do you have a mobile phone?” he asked.

“Sorry. I don’t have a mobile or a landline. I’ve had to try and keep my overheads down as much as I can.” I was once more embarrassed about my poverty, but O’Connell had pretty much admitted that his circumstances were the same.

“I had to give mine up when I quit my job. I’m with Kier most of the time, though, so if you ever need me just call him from a payphone. He told me he left you his number.” I nodded, but just then, I’d never wished for a mobile phone more. The anguish of going days without seeing or hearing from him was pretty depressing. He smiled, sensing my gloom.

“I guess we just do this the old-fashioned way then. Do you have a pen and some paper?” he asked.

I pulled a piece from my notebook and handed it to him with a pen. Leaning over my desk, I half wondered if the archaic piece of furniture would hold his weight as he wrote out a note, folded it over and handed it to me.

“Don’t read it tonight, save it for the morning, okay?” he asked.

“All right,” I agreed. “Will I see you tomorrow night?”

“Of course, baby. Kieran’s gonna to walk you home, but can I come by after training?” he asked hopefully.

“I’d like that,” I admitted shyly, hoping that he still felt the same way tomorrow. He carried on holding me like he couldn’t quite bring himself to let me go.

“Bye, sunshine,” he whispered against my lips.

“Goodbye, O’Connell,” I sighed, as he pulled back and walked out the door, sporting a look of unadulterated hunger. I quickly threw on all of the bolts then raced to the window. Feeling my eyes on him, he turned around and blew me a kiss before shifting his training bag higher on his back and disappearing into the night.

Collapsing onto my bed, I contemplated waiting until tomorrow to read O’Connell’s note, but my curiosity was stronger than my conscience. There was no way that I could sleep tonight if I was wondering what he’d written me.