Chapter 9
nine
GRAY
Ciar was not playing fair. His little performance earlier had wrecked Gray’s concentration for the rest of the day. She half-heartedly explored, stumbling around after her friends, all the while reliving the feeling of Ciar’s knuckles running down her back.
Dagr hired a chef for the days they were staying and made sure the evening’s dinner was finished early since they were all a bit jet lagged. Better to push through a few more hours to get on track.
She was in her room changing into a swimsuit when a knock sounded on her door. She assumed it was one of the girls and yelled, “Come in.”
She was about to put her matching red cover-up on over her tiny, red bikini when her door opened and there stood Ciar in short, tight black swim trunks showing off his gorgeous body covered head to toe in ink—literally, head to toe.
His eyes widened at her standing in the middle of her assigned bedroom wearing skimpy attire. “Ciar. What are you doing?” she asked when he stayed standing in the doorway. She tried not to notice the slight tightening of his trunks, but inside, she was thrilled that he liked what he saw.
“Christ, Gray.” He whispered something that was definitely in Russian, though it was too low for her to catch. She’d been taking lessons on and off for two and a half years. She could speak and understand the language, but her writing was still middle-of-the-road.
There was an older Russian woman who lived above her favorite coffee shop near Trinity.
They met by chance one day and struck up a friendship.
Gray promised to redecorate her tiny flat over time if she taught her the language.
She never told anyone because it might reveal her obsession with a certain man.
He didn’t move from the doorway, but his eyes swept her body in slow perusal, finally coming back to her face. “Sit by me in the hot tub, or I will make a point of moving by you.” He unashamedly adjusted his dick. Gray tracked each movement of his hand. “Do you understand?”
Gray swallowed thickly. “Yes.”
He left as quickly as he’d come, leaving her with noodle legs. She sat on the end of her bed contemplating how he’d turned the tables so easily on their non-relationship.
Fifteen minutes later, and with only the slightest hesitation, Gray made sure to sit on the bench closest to Ciar.
The jets were bubbling the water enough that, with only the darkness and stars surrounding them, seeing below the surface was impossible.
A good thing since he had his big man paw draped possessively over her thigh within seconds.
Ignoring the man staking a claim on her body, she threw herself into making plans for the next couple of days.
They were hiking tomorrow, Dagr practically vibrating with excitement at showing Bébhinn his favorite scenic trails.
Tomorrow night, they were going to some trendy club in downtown Telluride.
For almost an hour, she’d been overwhelmed with the feelings that Ciar was swamping her body with, but she wasn’t a meek woman…normally. She didn’t want to be now.
She raised her Scottish whisky on the rocks to sip while her free hand slid a path from the back of his hand stationed on her thigh, to his own, trailing her fingers across his leg. He jumped so high, it was a wonder no one noticed.
She made sure her fingers dug into the space between his leg and groin. “Gray,” his rumbling voice warned.
All innocence, she asked Ciar, “Before we hike tomorrow, do you want to spend some time on the proposals? If we give my plans some attention, by the time we get home, I can start hiring contractors.”
While she was speaking, she barely moved her fingertips back and forth. His sex was slowly hardening with the slight attention, causing her breath to hitch, but she wasn’t backing down now.
“Fine,” he gritted.
She was feeling mighty smug until his fingers dipped deeper between her own thighs, where her body was currently pulsing. He made a show of finishing off his drink and setting the glass behind on the railing circling the extra-large hot tub.
He answered a few questions about the new pub while casually using his now free hand to move her hidden hand over enough to cover his erection. He pressed her palm firmly against his sex causing him to groan, which he covered with a cough.
Blair signed, “It must be hard.”
Ciar coughed for real with that comment, releasing her hand and placing it back firmly on his thigh.
“What?” he asked Blair, glancing at Gray with wide eyes.
“It must be hard to open a pub when your father and uncle already have a successful one,” she explained.
Gray stared intensely at her friend, and at the little redhead’s smirk, she knew Blair was aware of what they were up to, causing a blush to spread from her face to her neck and chest.
Ciar regained a semblance of calm before Gray could. “Not at all. Both Dad and Uncle Cormac have been beyond helpful. They have perfected a traditional Irish pub—good food, good service, and excellent live music.
“My place will be similar but focused on more business clientele versus families and students. My place won’t have dancing.
You girls will have to save your moves for Murphy’s.
I envision a quieter, more private experience—a high-end menu, card tables, smoking lounge—different, but still all about a pleasurable evening. ”
As he finished describing his new venture, his thumb brazenly caressed over her throbbing center. Her legs instantly clamped tight over his wandering hand. His wicked smile made her want to strangle him and straddle his lap at the same time.
“I’m sorry, everyone,” Gray announced, with a fake yawn following. “I’m exhausted and going to head to bed.” While everyone told her goodnight and that they would follow soon, she grasped his length and gave it a quick squeeze, whispering as she stood, “Enjoy the rest of your evening.”
If she bent over to climb out where her ass was inches from his face, well, she wasn’t going to apologize.