Friday I'm In Love (Wild Irish, #5) Page 11

  Sean grinned. “She’s next. As soon as this guy finishes butchering Michael Jackson. I swear to God if he whips out the moonwalk, I might piss in my pants. This is even funnier than I thought it would be.”

  “Well, it’s certainly brought in a crowd.”

  “Human nature,” Sean said. “People are fascinated by tragedy.”

  Ewan shook his head, chuckling as he returned to the table. “Sean says you’re up next.”

  “Great. You know, I think I failed to mention something.”

  “Oh yeah?” he asked. “What’s that?”

  “I can’t sing.”

  “At all?” He was surprised by her confession. She had a lovely speaking voice, husky and sexy as hell. He just assumed that would translate to her being a pretty decent singer.

  “Sky told me once he thought I might be tone deaf, but I can hear the melody, the harmony, everything that makes his songs great. I just can’t make my voice do that.”

  He wondered why she wasn’t more bothered by the prospect of getting on stage if she really did sing as bad as she said. “You’re sure you’re okay with getting up on the stage?”

  “Turnabout’s fair play,” she said.

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning,” she leaned closer as she spoke, “I’ve spent years making fun of people for their shortcomings. I think maybe it’s time I gave them a turn to take a few shots at me. Isn’t that what this lesson is about?”

  Ewan shook his head. “No, not at all. I was hoping you’d learn to stop caring what people think about you. You think the world hates you, sees you as a bitch. You pretend that doesn’t bother you, but I think deep down inside, it does. This isn’t about letting people laugh at you, Nat. I’d never set you up for that.”

  She sighed. “You are the most annoying man I’ve ever met.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “I find it very difficult to stay mad at you. And I really want to be mad at you right now.”

  He grasped her hand. “That’s funny. I’m having some difficulties of my own in regards to you.”

  “What kind of difficulties?”

  He pulled her hand into his lap, aware that the table was shielding them as he moved her palm to his very erect cock. “I really want to be inside you right now.”

  She started applying pressure to his cock, slowly moving her fingers along his covered flesh. “We already did the sex lesson.” Her tone didn’t match her words and he thought for a moment she was sad about the idea of not sleeping with him again.

  “That wasn’t a lesson, Nat. And I didn’t intend for it to be just one night.” Before he could say more, tell her exactly what the previous night meant to him, Sean was calling her name, gesturing for her to take the microphone.

  She removed her hand and stood slowly. “Good.”

  “Good?” He was wondering how he could convince Sean to skip her in the lineup, but Natalie ignored his question and threw one of her own at him.

  “You wanna know something?”

  He nodded.

  “I’ve always been jealous of Sky’s time on the stage, in the spotlight. I’ve always wanted to try this just once and you’re right, it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks. This is for me.”

  “Break a leg,” he said, smiling at her sudden enthusiasm.

  “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She laughed as she walked away and Ewan watched her take her place on the stage, admiring her courage as she stood in the spotlight. As the music started, she held the microphone to her mouth and sang.

  He covered his mouth to hide the grin emerging as she belted out Wilson Phillips’ Release Me. Sean caught his eye and gave him a horrified look. She hadn’t exaggerated about her singing. She looked at him as she continued, her twinkling eyes proving—unlike the American Idol wannabes—she knew exactly how bad she sounded.

  Regardless of the sound, she was winning the crowd over with sheer showmanship. As the pace of the song increased, she started dancing, her motions sultry and beautiful, despite her singing. She started working the crowd, pointing to a few of the men, who began wolf-whistling. Their enjoyment pushed her further and he broke into genuine laughter when she left the stage and started singing to the cowboy in the purple shirt, playing with his fringe.

  The crowd was eating up her antics and a few women stood up and started singing along. Apparently, she’d stumbled upon some sort of nineties girl anthem. Everyone started clapping, dancing at their seats, and Sean turned to give him a thumbs-up.

  As the song ended, she received the first standing ovation of the night and she ran back to the table where he stood waiting for her. She hugged him, laughing with complete, unrestrained joy and, as everyone watched and cheered louder, he kissed her.

  “That was so awesome,” she said when they broke apart.

  “And you said you couldn’t sing.” He kept his hands on her hips, even though he caught Tris and Pop looking at him from behind the bar. His family had suspected something was up between them, but he had a feeling the kiss he’d just given her in front of God and everyone had laid any lingering doubts to rest.

  “Very funny.” She was still grinning, still on a karaoke high.

  “What do you say we try to get an encore out of the lovely Miss Natalie?” Sean said from the stage, the crowd cheering on his suggestion.

  She started to shake her head when Sean held up a slip of paper. “As luck would have it,” he said, “I happen to have Natalie all lined up for a duet with none other than my brother, Ewan.”

  There were enough regulars in the crowd that Ewan wasn’t surprised by the hearty applause and encouragement. No doubt they were looking forward to seeing him make an ass of himself.

  “That wasn’t the deal,” she exclaimed, but he could tell by her face she wasn’t angry.

  “Guess I’ve never really shared this spotlight dream of yours. Unless you’re sharing it with me.”

  She smiled. “I want to sleep with you again.”

  His heart started racing at her admission. He could tell it was hard for her to say the words. “Good.” She rolled her eyes as he threw her word back at him and they made their way to the stage together.

  As they took their places on the stools, she looked at him. “I forgot to ask. What are we singing?”

  “I Got You Babe.”

  She closed her eyes and for a moment, he thought she was praying she’d heard him wrong. When she opened them again, they were filled with laughter. “Sonny and Cher? You know, now that I look at you, you do favor—”

  “Nat,” he warned with feigned anger. The music started. “Shut up and sing.”

  They made it through the song without embarrassing themselves. Actually, once they started singing, he found that the people sitting around them disappeared because his eyes were focused solely on her. She did a better job with Cher, though she struggled to find at least half the notes. It was hard to notice or care because she was having so much fun. At one point, she swung her hair over her shoulder in true Cher style and Ewan heard Pop cheering her on from the bar. His pop was a sucker for the old Sonny and Cher Show.

  Fortunately Natalie had already won over the crowd so they were generous with their applause, and as they left the stage, several men rose to slap him on the back. Apparently she’d stolen some hearts and at least two of the patrons told him he was a lucky bastard.

  They went back to their table and Pop carried over a couple of beers. “Thought you two might have worked up a thirst after all that singing.”

  Natalie giggled. “Thanks, Pat.”

  “You made a fine Cher, Natalie. Sunday and I used to watch their show on television every week. Ewan, I must admit I’m surprised. Didn’t know you could sing like that.”

  Pop looked around and did a quick survey of the tables before joining them. Ever the attentive barman. Ewan suspected his pop knew exactly how many minutes he could sit and chat before someone would need a refill.

  Ewan chuckled, but Natalie and
Pop looked at him seriously. “You sounded awesome,” she added. “Amazing, actually.”

  He brushed off their praise, but Pop wasn’t content to let the subject lie. “My kids get their singing talent from Sunday. She had a beautiful voice. Used to sing you to sleep every night, Ewan. Remember?”

  Ewan tried to swallow past the lump in his throat.

  “She had a song for each kid. Sang it to them when they were babies right on up until they were starting school. Usually by the time they were three or four, they’d be singing right along. I used to stand in the hall some nights and listen as she sang the kids to sleep. Such a voice.”

  Ewan knew not a day passed that his pop didn’t miss his mom. He wondered what it must feel like to have such a deep and undying love. He glanced at Natalie and felt his heart twinge. His gut and his heart told him she was the one. If anyone could provoke those emotions, bring his life that kind of complete and unending happiness, it would be her. Now he just had to convince Natalie.

  “What was the song she used to sing to you, Ewan? I can’t remember.”

  Ewan was jerked from his thoughts by his pop’s unexpected question. Song? He licked his suddenly dry lips and took a drink of beer to stall, his mind racing for an answer.

  “Beautiful Boy,” Pop shouted out at last. “That was it. Sunday had a terrible crush on John Lennon. I think that song came out a few years before you were born. She loved it, sang it to you all the time. She never admitted as much, but I sort of suspect she stole the name Sean from Lennon and Yoko Ono’s son.”

  Pop chuckled at the memory, but Ewan had stopped listening as a tune started to form in his mind. Before he could think better, he found himself singing the song. “Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.” He smiled as he realized he knew all the words. If he hadn’t been so overwhelmed by the thought, he could have sung every verse right there, though he hadn’t heard the song since…

  He remembered, heard his mother’s voice in his head. The memory as clear as if she’d sung it to him yesterday. He swallowed, trying to dislodge the lump in his throat.

  A memory.

  “Yep, that’s the song. You’ve got Sunday’s talent,” Pop said as he rose, grinning delightedly. “Well, back to work. You two gonna give the karaoke another whirl tonight?”

  Natalie shook her head. “Nope. I think I’ve already exhausted my five minutes of fame.”

  Pop walked away to take the drink orders of a couple who’d just come in as Ewan watched, not really paying attention.

  “That’s a faraway look.” Natalie’s gaze was intent on his face.

  “Just thinking about my mom.”

  “You miss her.”

  He looked at her. “Yeah, I do.”

  Natalie leaned closer as if to comfort him and he was driven by the impulse to kiss her. Really kiss. Kiss her until she had no choice but to admit what he already knew. He was tired of playing games, tired of pretending. Tonight, the shields came down.

  “Come upstairs with me.”

  She tried to move away slightly but he grasped her hands and drew her closer, not allowing her retreat. “You said you wanted to sleep with me again.”

  “I know what I said, but sometimes doing what you want isn’t a good thing.” She was purposely contradicting the previous night’s lesson.

  “Why?”

  “Because sex just muddies the water.”

  He frowned. “Stop doing this, Nat. Dammit, every step forward with you is followed by twelve back. Stop thinking. Stop hiding. Wallow in the mud with me.”

  “Your family—”

  “Knows about us. I think they’d have to blind at this point not to see what’s going on.”

  “And they won’t mind you spending the night in my bed?” She glanced over her shoulder, looking at Pop as he took another drink order.

  He pulled her face back to look at him, his fingers gripping her chin. “I’m an adult. You’re an adult. Besides, didn’t we just spend tonight going over the concept of not worrying about what other people think? Do you want to be with me?”

  “God. Yes.”

  “Then come upstairs. Let me make—”

  She placed a finger on his lips, halting him, refusing to hear the word love, and he felt his anger, his frustration build.

  “Whether I say it or not, it’s still there, Nat. You know it and I know it.”

  She shook her head, pressing her forehead against his. “I really need you to stop talking.”

  He laughed. “Wearing you down, aren’t I?”

  She grinned and rose. “Come on.”

  He took her proffered hand and started humming I Got You Babe. By the time they reached the stairs leading to the apartment, he started singing the words to her as she giggled. “I’ve got you to hold my hand. I’ve got you to understand.”

  Chapter Seven

  Thursday

  Natalie woke up for the second day in a row with her head pillowed on Ewan’s chest. She tried not to acknowledge how comfortable the position was. A quick glance at the clock proved it was still early—not quite seven. She should be sleeping the sleep of the dead after the night she’d just spent. Apparently Ewan was a big fan of foreplay—not that she had a problem with foreplay. He’d kissed and caressed her for what felt like hours until every nerve in her body was screaming for more. He was an excellent lover, generous, attentive. It didn’t hurt that he was well endowed, either. She loved the way he filled her.

  She wondered what he tasted like. Peering up, she confirmed he was asleep and she decided revenge, in this instance, could be very, very sweet. She slowly pushed herself away from his body, relieved when he didn’t stir. She pulled the covers off, admiring the view along the way. She was surprised to discover him already half-erect and she glanced at his face again. He was definitely still asleep. She wondered what he was dreaming about.

  Kneeling by his right hip, she bent down. She could detect the slightest scent of their lovemaking from the night before. She paused, regrouped. Not lovemaking. Sex. Sex.

  “Sex,” she whispered against his cock. As she spoke, his erection grew more prominent.

  “Sex sounds good,” he murmured, his voice husky with sleep.

  She grinned when she spotted his gaze on her. Rather than answer, however, she ran her tongue along his hard shaft, from root to tip.

  He hissed as she hovered at the slit, lapping up the pre-come already gathering there. She remembered the night in the Jacuzzi, how much his rough touches enflamed her. She wondered if she could provoke the same response in him. With that thought in mind, she nipped the head of his cock. Sank her teeth in and tried not to gloat at his jerky response.

  “Easy, babydoll. I’ve kind of grown fond of that cock. We’ve been together for twenty-six years. I’d hate for anything to happen to the poor guy.”

  She giggled, pulling her teeth away and sucking the mushroom head into her mouth as she reached to grip his balls.

  He groaned. “That’s much better. Dammit! I love the way you wake up.”

  She took him deeper as she squeezed his scrotum. His hands flew to her hair, his fingers tangling in her tresses, pulling lightly. She squirmed at the impact of it. She had no idea how erotic hair pulling could be. Her thighs were damp with her arousal, amazed at Ewan’s ability to bring her to this point so quickly.

  She moved lower on his cock, trying to take as much as she could. Using her free hand, she gripped the flesh she couldn’t quite squeeze into her mouth. His cock brushed the back of her throat and she swallowed.

  Ewan jerked beneath her. “Holy fuck. Jesus, Nat.”

  She moved back then repeated the action. Over and over, she took him deep, swallowing the head until he was thrashing, fighting to restrain his reactions.

  “God dammit! I can’t last like this. It’s too good. Ah, babydoll. You are so hot, so sweet.”

  His grip on her hair tightened and she knew he was getting close. She released his balls and ran her finger alo
ng his perineum, placing her fingertip at his anus as she swallowed his cock once more.

  The single touch fired him like the trigger of a gun. “God yes,” he cried as he came in her mouth. “Swallow it, Natalie. Take it all, baby.”

  She held him in her mouth as his climax subsided. Simply held him there, lightly running her tongue over his softening flesh. He stroked her hair absentmindedly for several moments as she tried to understand her uncharacteristic compulsions when it came to him. She’d never wanted to give a guy a blowjob, had rarely done it in the past. The action was more a chore, a payback of sorts after a lover went down on her. She wasn’t used to wanting to give in the bedroom, more than she wanted to take. Sex was to fulfill a need—that was it.