Chapter 24

Twenty-Four

P addy

The night of Pretty's show filled her common rooms in a way I'd never seen before in a home so big. She had an entire glam squad responsible for her performance ready appearance. Glitz and glimmer weren't really my thing, but I loved seeing Pretty getting dolled up and be the center of attention. She deserved it for how much work she put into this. Didn't hurt that I'd finally get to see her play.

I'd had the privilege of it up close, but tonight I'd get to see her play in front of a proper audience. Since Pretty had been expecting órfhlaith, when she turned up at Pretty's front door with a gown bag, I let her in, allowing her to follow all the laughter and voices so she could personally hand Pretty her dress.

I cringed admitting this but, I liked how Pretty called on my sister. Meant that they were comfortable around each other, and if I didn't plan on going anywhere, they'd be seeing more of each other.

I preferred the mystery of a woman glamming herself up, so I stayed my arse out of it, deciding it was time to go downstairs to suit up myself. Before I could reach my apartment, órfhlaith asked if she could speak to me alone before she left.

órfhlaith to me , wasn't a tomboy, but it threw me off whenever she was in a dress. She got too much attention in them for me, which was why I never thought anything of it that she had adapted more of a gamine style. "What's with the dress?" I asked confused.

"I didn't want to stand out," she confessed. "Besides, I'm allowed to dress up every once in a while."

"Yeah, well it better be every once in a while. I don't want to have to pound some lad trying to be fresh with my sister?—"

"Paddy, I can take care of myself. Right now, you're taking care of Pretty. For the moment, worry about that," she said, reaching out to caress my face.

"What?" I squinted at her suspiciously, the look on her face made me think she had something to say. órfhlaith wasn't vague like other women. She typically got to the point, so it wasn't like her not to just say what was on her mind.

"Be careful."

Confused, I asked her to clarify. "You just…have a habit of caring for people unavailable to you. I'm not going to tell you what to do, just…be careful." Her tone free of any judgment or malice. With a squeeze to my shoulder and a brief hug, órfhlaith said her final goodbyes, wishing Pretty luck before she departed.

Now was my chance to prepare myself for tonight. I was already a well-dressed lad, though there hadn't been too many places I'd frequented that required a tux. By the time I was cleaned up and dressed, I hadn't realized I'd forgotten to reach for my leg sleeve.

Around Pretty, I didn't need it. Yeah, I was still getting used to it being exposed. But my scars were a part of me. Proof of the journey I'd taken. It shouldn't have taken this long, but I was slowly losing the shame attached to having them.

When I went upstairs to check up on everything, the woman I was escorting was truly a sight to be seen. Prancing around in a shoulder less green gown, she wore long gloves and an attention-grabbing diamond necklace that brought attention to her décolletage—but in a classy way.

"Oh, my. Can't say I've ever seen you in a tux, but I should more often." Pretty looked me up and down. "You look especially dashing in one."

"Well, ain't a word strong enough to describe how amazing you look. That figure. That color. I nearly fainted at just the sight of you," I said, closing the distance between us.

"Here, let me fix your tie." Pretty reached in, readjusting my bow tie as I held onto her hips, unintentionally bringing us closer.

"Seriously, though. You're fucking stunning. This thing fits you like a glove," admiring how it clung to her hips, tummy and bum in a flattering way.

"Well, if you're lucky, maybe you'll get to take it off me too," Pretty flirted.

A half grin formed across my lips. "Now, why would you go and say a thing like that? Especially when I'm supposed to be working," I desperately questioned.

"Because I like seeing you sweat," she admitted.

"I never sweat, unless it's on top of you," I teased.

She tried to bat and back me away, but I just brought her back in closer. We weren't supposed to in the house, but something about how good she looked made me desperate for a kiss. Nothing distasteful either, just a comforting peck on the lips.

No one was likely to walk in considering half her glam team had already left and Elijah was conveniently at Cillian's. Vernon on the other hand, now that he didn't have to make appearances just for show, it seemed like I was in their home more than he was.

"Shall we?" I asked, holding up my arm for her to loop in mine, I helped her in her shawl, and escorted her out to the limousine waiting for us. Once we were both secure in the backseat, the driver took off, leaving Pretty and me alone, once again.

Impatiently waiting for me to place my hand on her peeked-out thigh, she moved my hand to the fleshy exposed skin, as I squeezed like I normally did when I drove, or when we quietly laid in bed.

"You ever get nervous right before a show?" I wondered, having never watched a live performance before. I couldn't imagine playing in front of so many people.

"Actually, the performing part is when I'm the least nervous," she admitted.

"What's the biggest crowd you've ever performed for?"

"I don't know, thirty…forty thousand people, give or take."

" Forty thousand ?" I questioned in shock. "You mean to tell me you can perform in front of forty thousand people and not get nervous?"

"A lot of times, I just focus on one thing. Not the seats I'm supposed to fill. But sometimes I'll think of a person."

"Oh yeah?"

"When my mother's birthday aligns with a show, sometimes I'll just think of her, and how hard she worked for me to get here. And then I don't feel so nervous."

"Who will you be thinking of tonight?" I questioned. There was only one acceptable answer.

"I already have a surprise for you, so don't ruin it," she warned. "In fact, thinking of you now is what's making me nervous. I still can't believe how good you look in a tux."

She may not have asked for it directly, but between her bit lip and wicked grin, I thought out loud something that could help with that as I slid to the limousine floor and started reaching underneath her dress.

"Paddy, what are you doing?"

"I told you, giving you something to calm those nerves." As I hiked up her dress just enough to have her crotch exposed to me. Softly kissing her from the outside of her knickers, I pulled them to the side, exposing her plump, juicy lips. "Spread out a little for me, gorgeous."

Obeying my order, Pretty slid down a bit in the seat, slightly opening herself a bit wider for me, as I delicately kissed her budding folds, before spreading her lips with my mouth.

She rewarded me with a beautiful " Oh ," as I knew didn't have a lot of time with her, but I'd savor whatever time I did have, to drive her wild. Peering at her through proud eyes, I wrapped my hands around each of her thighs, about as happy as a man could be down there.

"Daddy's gonna flick your clit a little. It may feel intense at first with less of the teasing, but I promise to make my sweet girl feel good. Okay?"

"Yes, Daddy," she nodded, as I straightened my pointed tongue on her nub, lightly but viciously, flicking away. Pretty squirmed and squealed, but in unison, met each flick with a gasp.

Once her petal started to show, I fully dove in her folds, using my entire tongue this time to lap at her clit. A gloved hand went straight to the back of my head, bracing herself for the rhythm of my slurping.

"Daddy right there. Your sweet girl's gonna come all over that fucking tongue. Eat that naughty little pussy," she encouraged, panting, breast heaving at the rhythm of my mouth.

Nothing satisfied me more than having a woman who could just say, keep doing that .

You'd be surprised how many women don't talk in bed at all. I was good at pushing buttons, but Pretty definitely took out half the guesswork without forcing myself to ask.

Throatier moans meant something was coming, confirmed by her tightening thighs and stronger grip on my hair.

"Fuck! Get up in that fucking pussy," she demanded, forcing me to hone in and concentrate on her button as she lifted up both her legs widening further, like she was serving up more of her cunt to me.

" Fuck !" She cried out again, instantly trying to inch away, but me not giving her room to. Pretty knew that when I went down on her and I didn't inch away, that her first climax had been for her, but the next one belonged to me.

Women weren't always prepared for the intensity of immediately attempting a second tremor. But for a man who leaned into his darkness, it always put a woman in that place of mindless submission. That's when her thoughts really turned off.

By now, Pretty wasn't strong enough to do more than pant or squirm.

A series of broken mmm's…accompanied shaking legs, and even though it took a minute, that hand was on the back of my head again, making sure I stayed put.

Despite Pretty's initial pushback, her legs shook through a second climax, as they'd been too weak to stay gripped to the sides of my face. The signature sounds of her not being able to take me anymore was the only thing that made me tear myself away.

Slipping her knickers back in place, I helped slide back down the dress, wiping down my beard, when Pretty surprised me by pulling me in by the collar and stealing a kiss from me.

"When we get home, I am going to suck the life out of you." Biting her lip through devotedly glassed eyes.

"Tonight, is about you. Now and later. I just wanted to ease your nerves." I leaned into kiss her forehead, easing back into the seat next to her. When we finally arrived at the venue, it had been just like I remembered it to be like in Los Angeles.

Flashing lights. Folks screaming for the talent. People reaching out, hoping to be lucky enough to get an autograph. It was smaller scale given the location, but the impact was all the same.

People paid good money to watch a woman like Pretty play. I kept close, just in case, but it took about a half hour before we were even able to make it inside, given Pretty was taking pictures and speaking with the press.

Sadly, she couldn't give autographs to everyone, but I'm sure the ones that she had managed to get to were grateful.

Once inside, we were directed to a dressing room that gave the starlet privacy before the start of the show. "You're gonna kill it out there. I just know it," holding Pretty close, staring deep into her eyes.

"I hope you listen well, because the surprise will be in the song," she beamed.

"Don't tell me you wrote a song for me," I asked, matching her smile.

"You'll just have to be paying attention to see." A stagehand knocked on the door, insisting the stage and band was ready for her, as I wished her luck with a kiss and insisted I'd be watching backstage.

When I took my place backstage, her first set started, and I was highly impressed watching her command a crowd so easily. It was a privilege I could even get a woman like this to submit to me. She truly was a stunning woman.

Effortlessly, she went from one song to the next, truly coming alive on that piano in front of her. I'd have to sit in more often when she rehearsed, when the environment was more relaxed. At the start of the second set, I don't know why, just had a bad feeling as I scooped out the upstage.

Even though it was dark, since I had had a rundown hours prior, it seemed off, like I could sense movement. Most people wouldn't think to notice things like that, but I did. It was good to be suspicious in my line of work. Always assume something's coming.

A figure—and it had to be intentional, because they were trying to blend in with the dark—stalked, nearly invisible if you weren't looking for it, hid in the background, and nothing good could come from that.

It took a moment to realize the subtle movement was someone assembling a gun. Pretty wasn't safe. This was too public a place and a hit attempt would be perfect, because the commotion would cause the best distraction to leave the scene unnoticed.

Without giving it a second thought, I rushed to the stage, surprising Pretty, but insisting she come with me, now .

"Paddy, I'm in the middle of a—" as before she could finish the sentence, a bullet shot in her direction, causing everyone on stage to scream, scramble or panic, and I took my gun out the holster and shot in the direction upstage.

Emptying the clip, I quickly reloaded, trying to block out the screams from the audience. Managing to nail a hit in the assailant's thigh, any attempt to flee, they wouldn't get far, but they likely wouldn't bleed out either.

I had to choose between whether to follow them or tend to Pretty.

In the end, I chose Pretty.

***

The entire ride home Pretty had been a frantic mess. It'd been the only time since her tears became just for me, that I let her cry for something else. She had every reason to.

Coaching her through her fear until the police came to her home to get her statement, I remained as neutral as possible despite my hatred for cops. When you were on the other side of the law, the only copper you could trust was one in your pocket. You either had to have the right money, or the right skin color or background, and since I was Irish, I can admit I had never met a pig I actually liked.

But I had to remind myself they weren't here for me, they were here for Pretty and her well-being. The idea of helping any copper made me sick to my stomach, but I put my pride aside for the woman that I cared about.

Giving statements required a lot of repetition, as it seemed like she'd explained her side of events no less than three times. "It just has to be the stalker. It just has to be."

Just as I had given my statement, Vernon was walking through the door, oblivious, but eager to be caught up to date with things.

"Sir, your wife just had an attempt on her life. We're told she currently has a stalker?"

Vernon confirmed it, and even provided further evidence that might aid in the investigation. "Mr. And Mrs. Washington, we're going to have to level with you. This assailant attempted to kill you in a public place. Knows where you live. Is there a safer place you can go until we conclude our investigation?"

"Leave my home?" Pretty questioned. "Where would I go?"

"A hotel, maybe?" Vernon suggested. "Anything out of town would be better."

"If you're looking for someplace for things to die down a bit, I've actually got just a place. A cabin in Vermont. Secluded. No one would know you're there. You'd truly be safe. That's if you're open to it," I suggested.

"That sounds like a good idea," one of the officers agreed. "Lay low until we have more details."

"I'd only agree to that if I could take Elijah with me," Pretty said with a hint of protectiveness in her tone.

"Pretty, Elijah can't miss school. We don't know how long this is going to go on for," Vernon disagreed.

"Vernon, for a time like this, he can absolutely miss school," Pretty argued in return.

"Pretty, the stalker you've got is only after for you . Not me, not Elijah. You always been asking me to show up for Elijah, and now the stakes have never been higher." Funny how it took an attempt on your wife's life to be a present father.

"Vernon, I don't know?—"

"Pretty, I trust the cops know what they're doing. We'll wrap this up in a few days, but you'll never get any sleep or take care of yourself if you're worried about being shot all the time. Elijah is my son. You can trust me with his care." Well, he was doing a poor job at convincing her.

"What are you going to tell Elijah?" Pretty asked, worry heavy in her eyes.

"That his mother went to New York for another show. I'll tell him, Mr. Sullivan needed the next couple of days off to be with family. He doesn't need to know more than that."

"Paddy, what do you think?" Pretty questioned, surprising me that she wanted me to weigh in.

"I reckon I can protect you both. But your presence more than likely to brings more danger to your son than safety. Until this lad is caught, might be a better idea to leave him with Vernon, or let him keep staying with my family."

Reluctantly, Pretty agreed, as the police insisted she get packed as quickly as possible. I always had a bag packed no matter where I stayed, but if the plan was to leave as soon as she was done, it was best to gather in a few extra things, just in case we couldn't predict how long the stay would be.