Perfect Sinner by Maggie Cole

11

Nolan

An hour earlier

All night,my brothers and I take care of the Polish thugs who attempted to enter Nora's pub. Declan called Killian and me. While we were in the slammer, he got with my cousins, who know how to keep their mouths shut. They rounded up the goons when they got out of the hospital. Since Darragh got involved, their side and ours both had all charges dropped.

Declan thought it was best if Darragh didn't know what he was doing, since he was so vocal about his distaste over the fight. He claimed it was better to ask for forgiveness later and talked to Maksim. Since Adrian's ex-wife Dasha put the Ivanovs on the Zielinski's radar, Maksim was more than happy to give us access to use their garage. Adrian and Maksim showed up, eager to jump in and help torture the thugs to see what information we can get out of them.

My phone is off, but something is bugging me to turn it on. It's not something I ever do in the middle of an event like this, but I've never had Gemma to worry about before. No matter how many times I slice through one of these men's skin, or do some other vile deed, I can't shake her out of my mind. I toss my gloves on the plastic and step into the front room. All our phones and personal items are on the desk. I pick mine up, turn it on, and my gut drops.

Tiernan: There's been an incident with Orla. Gemma's leg got sliced. She's refusing to go to the hospital. We're a few minutes from the house.

Blood slams against my skull. I dial Tiernan, but he doesn't pick up.

Tiernan: We're in the car. I don't want to upset her more.

Me: Answer the goddamn phone.

Tiernan: I'll call you in a few minutes in private.

Me: Now.

Tiernan: Just chill for a few minutes.

Pissed by his lack of following my orders, I call his phone. He has the audacity to send me to voicemail. When it beeps, I shout, "I'm going to fucking kill you for so many different reasons!" I hang up and grab my keys.

"What's going on?" Declan says, stepping into the room.

"Tiernan isn't picking up. Orla sliced Gemma's leg," I inform him and swallow down the bile rising in my throat. The visual of Gemma's perfect leg bloody and Orla anywhere near her creates a mixture of rage and nausea that floods me.

Declan's eyes widen. "Is she okay?"

"I don't know. Did you hear me say that little punk isn't picking up the phone? I told Liam and Darragh they were too inexperienced, and he assured me they could handle it. The one time I step away, that bitch gets to Gemma." I move toward the door, and Declan positions himself between it and me.

"Move," I growl.

He crosses his arms. "You know the rules. Shower first."

"Did you hear what I said?"

He points to the bathroom. "Go. Now. You can't leave here with blood on you."

I pull my hair. He's right. I strip and throw my clothes in the burn barrel, go into the shower, and scrub every inch of my body. Declan comes in with fresh clothes when I get out. I quickly put them on, grab my wallet and keys, and trot out to my car. It's the middle of the afternoon but raining. I drive as fast as I can without getting into an accident and run into the house. As soon as I step inside, I shout, "Gemma!"

Tiernan and Fergal jump off the couch. Tiernan says, "She's in your room."

I point at both of them. "I don't have time to deal with you two right now. Get out of my sight before I slice your throats." I shove past them and run into the bedroom.

Gemma's hand shakes over her face. Her tears fall next to her other hand, which is gripping the counter so tight, her knuckles are white.

I pull her into my arms, feeling like my heart's going to explode in my chest. She sobs harder, and I spend several minutes trying to calm her down. I kiss her head and tell her, "I need you to calm down, princess, so I can see your wound."

Several minutes pass, and she finally looks at me. Her blue eyes meet mine and a part of me dies. There's so much humiliation and fear in them. My guys, my own cousins, didn't keep her safe. I don't know how I'll ever trust anyone with her again or forgive myself for not fighting Liam and Darragh about my gut feeling.

Gemma chokes out, "She got to me."

More rage annihilates me until it's oozing out of every cell in my body. I'm unsure what to do with it. If Gemma weren't in my arms right now, I'd run out of this house to personally go after Orla. I still should, but I'm a weak man around her. Not one part of me will move to part from Gemma right now. All I can do is tell her the truth of what's in store for Orla. If it's the last thing the O'Malleys do, I'll make sure of it. I vow, "And we're going to hunt her down for doing so."

She sniffles and takes a shaky breath.

I slide my hands over her cheeks, kiss her forehead, then give her a chaste one on the lips. "Let me see your leg."

She slowly removes her pants, and I try to remain calm. Blood covers the ace bandage. When it comes off, there's a bloody washcloth stuck to her skin.

I slide my hands under her armpits and prop her up on the counter. There's no way to remove the washcloth without hurting her. When I pull it off, it reopens the scab that started to form. She winces, and I say, "I should take you to the hospital."

Gemma grabs my arm. "No! It looks worse than it is. Please! I don't want to go where she might be able to get to me."

I slowly inhale and stare at the mirror.

Her voice shakes. "I'm sorry. Please don't be mad at me."

I fist her hair and dip my face in front of hers. "Why would I ever be mad at you about this?"

So much pain swirls in her blue eyes, chipping further at my heart. She scrunches her face. "I should have known better than to go to the gym."

"That isn't your fault. It's Tiernan's and Fergal's. And they're going to receive the consequences for putting you in danger," I promise her.

Her eyes widen. "What? No! Don't hurt them!"

A low growl comes out of my chest. I swallow the growing lump of anger in my throat. "I'm not going to hurt them. But they aren't keeping their jobs. Darragh can move them somewhere else. They aren't ready for this responsibility."

"But—"

"We aren't discussing it any further." I'm not going to fight with her all night over those idiots not protecting her. And Liam is going to get a visit from me. I release her hair, open the drawer, then pull out the first aid kit.

She utters, "Oh. The drawer."

I open the box and glance at her in question.

"I looked in the cabinet," she admits.

"Maybe I should give you a tour so you know where everything is." It comes out before I can analyze it. My nerves flip in my stomach. I've never wanted any woman to have access to all the things in my life. I ignore the uncomfortable feeling in my gut, take out antiseptic cleaner and skin glue, then open the bottle of cleanser.

She sniffles. "How's your arm?"

"Better than your leg."

"Kind of insane we both got sliced by a knife," she adds.

"Yeah." I steal a quick kiss then move her leg over the sink. "This might sting. Grip my good arm if you want."

She clutches my forearm, and I pour the solution over her wound. Her nails dig into my skin, and she tries to be brave but grimaces.

"Sorry, princess." I look closer at the gash, which only angers me further. She's lucky Orla didn't slash her privates. "It isn't super deep. But I'd feel better if you let a medical professional look at it."

"No. I'm fine. The glue should work. Please," she begs.

I sigh, unwrap some sterile gauze, and dab the wound until it's dry. Blood is still seeping out of it, but it's not horrible. "I'm going to attempt to glue this, but if this doesn't stick or has any sign of infection, we're going to the hospital. Understand?"

She nods. "Okay."

I press the gauze on the wound and put my lips in front of hers. "While this is drying, give me a kiss and show me how much you missed me."

Her face falls. "I did. I was worried about you."

Hearing her admit this stirs the same unfamiliar feeling. "Did you sleep in my bed?"

"Yes."

I can't help but smile and ask, "Where's my kiss?"

She locks her fingers in my hair. In a quiet voice, she asks, "Did you miss me?" Her eyes fill with a vulnerability I haven't seen in her before.

My heart skips a beat. I start to analyze what to say then stop. I don't know what's happening between Gemma and me, but she's becoming an obsession I can't shake. I decide to once again tell her the truth. "You're all I thought about when I shouldn't have been thinking anything about you."

The corners of her mouth curve. She pulls me closer and presses her lips on mine. Our tongues connect instantly, and I momentarily forget about her leg. Kissing Gemma is like turning on the heater when the sun has been beating down in your car on a boiling summer day. It grows hotter and hotter until every ounce of my blood is pumping violently in my veins. I mumble in her mouth, "I need to glue your thigh."

"Mmhmm." She moves closer to me and massages my head.

I find the strength to pull away. "Let me do this before the gauze sticks to it." I remove the white cloth, press her skin together, then apply the glue. I dip down and blow on her skin to help dry it.

"Guess I should say a Hail Mary she didn't cut my important parts," Gemma jokes.

I take my finger and glide it over her panties. "Hail Mary."

She squirms on the counter.

I place my hand on her good knee and move it as far as it'll go. I kiss the skin above her wound, and she strokes the side of my head. I mumble, "Did you eat while I was gone?" I slide my hand down her unharmed inner thigh and slip it under her panties and through her slit. I blow on the glue some more.

"Yeah," she breathes.

I slowly circle my thumb on her clit. "All your meals?"

"Mmhmm."

I blow one last time and touch the skin adhesive to see if it's dry. It is, so I drop to my knees. I circle my arm around her ass and tug her to the edge of the counter. I glance up. "Good girl."

She gasps and swallows hard.

"You know what I kept thinking about?" I position her legs over my shoulders and deeply inhale her scent.

"What?" she whispers.

I move her panties to the side. She shudders as I slip two fingers in her then return to rolling her clit with my thumb, staring at her throbbing pink paradise. "I didn't get my meal at the pub."

She inhales deeply. "I'm sorry. I—"

"Yeah. Me, too. Did you wonder how I was going to make good on my bet with all those people there?" I curl my fingers inside her and circle my thumb faster.

She whimpers and slightly rocks on my hand.

"Has a guy ever done that to you in a pub before?" I lash my tongue on her clit a few times then return to rubbing it.

"No." She pants and grips my head tighter.

"No sex in any bars?" I flick my tongue against her more intensely.

"No. Oh God!"

I pull away, reposition my thumb on her, and inch my fingers in and out of her wet heat. She moans, and I lock eyes with hers. "That's the problem with bad boys, princess. It's the difference between them and me. They're boys. I'm a man. And no matter where we are, I'll find a way to eat this sweet pussy, or fuck you in public, or get you off when you least expect it. So, you should remember good girls get rewarded. Bad girls get nothing."

"I'm sorry," she repeats and closes her eyes. Her cheeks flush, and my dick throbs. She's frustratingly beautiful, a pain in my ass at times, and wrecking me in too many ways to count.

"Should I remind you what good girls get?" I kiss her pussy and pull my fingers out of her.

Her eyes open, heavy with need and greed. She nods, and I grunt.

My pulse quickens. I smirk. "I didn't hear an answer." I pinch her clit.

"Oh God! Please!"

Satisfied, I shove my hand up her body and put my two fingers that were inside her into her mouth. She sucks on them as I devour her like I'm on death row and she's my last meal. I rotate between licking, sucking, and biting her with precision.

She cries out like a caged animal. Her thighs sweat against my cheeks. She digs her claws deeper into my head while grinding her trembling body into my face.

"Holy...holy...oh Jesus!" she screams as her body erupts into violent tremors.

I tug her closer to me, latch on to her harder, and continue feasting on what I'm claiming as mine. Whatever beefs she has with me, she's going to have to get over. We've crossed this line and I'm not sure how to step backward.

Her raspy voice cries out, "Nolan!"

I drop my pants, shimmy up her, and fist her hair. Our lips connect the moment our hot breath merges. My aching erection slides into her, and I groan. Her body around mine is sheer perfection. Every thrust I make, she matches. Each slide of her tongue keeps the buzz in my veins electric. The way she wraps her limbs around me makes me feel like I'm the only one she could ever want.

"Isn't the good girl option better?" I murmur in her ear then lick the back of it.

"Yes," she breathes. Her walls spasm around my cock so intensely, my balls tighten.

"Christ, Gemma."

"I...oh...oh..." she moans, and it ricochets off the bathroom tile like a song I want to hit the replay button on to drown out the rest of the world.

Her body convulses harder, taking me over the edge. I pump my seed hard into her, mumbling her name into her neck.

She clings to me, and neither of us moves. I finally lift my head and pull out then realize what I did. My stomach drops. "Shit, Gemma. I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."

She glances down. The color drains from her cheeks. She quickly looks away. Her chest rises and falls faster again.

How could I not have put on a condom?

I stare in the mirror for a minute, cursing myself.

Don't be a coward and freak her out more.

I pull her chin toward me. "This is my fault. I'm sorry."

She doesn't say anything, just swallows hard.

"I'm clean. I just had my physical right before I met you."

She nods and nervously licks her lips then blinks hard.

"Are you on anything?"

Her eyes fill with tears, and she shakes her head.

My stomach flips. "Okay. Let's not get ahead of ourselves."

Her lips tremble. She blurts out, "I missed my gyno appointment. I was too scared to go out, and I didn't get my birth control refilled. I haven't been on it for months."

My heart races. I attempt to stay calm and keep my eyes locked on hers. "Tomorrow, we'll make you a doctor's appointment."

"But what if—"

"Then we'll deal with it. Just don't get worked up about something that isn't a reality yet."

She sniffles. "All right. I don't have anything. Just so you know," she adds quickly.

I stroke her cheek. "Thanks for telling me." I kiss her then say, "I have to sort out your security. We should get dressed and go."

She takes a deep breath. Guilt fills her expression. "All right. I-I'm sorry I didn't go to my appointment."

I stroke my thumbs under her eyes. "Stop with the sorries. Now go get ready."