Bonus Chapter #3
“‘Sitting on the Dock of the Bay’.”
I don’t even need to think about it. The song always conjures childhood memories of me and my dad on the ferry crossing the Hudson River, the breeze snatching my ponytails, the spray making my outstretched hands and arms sparkle in the sunshine.
“Favorite movie?”
“Sixteen Candles.”
His eyelids flicker at that, and I wonder if he has ever seen the movie. Probably not. My mom introduced me to it when I was like twelve, and I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve watched it since.
“And anything with Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen in,” I add for good measure.
Because if he’s looking for a woman to watch horror movies with, he might as well know up front that I’m not the gal for him.
“First crush?”
“Harry Styles.” I scrunch up my face while I give it some serious thought. “It was a close call between Harry and Jack Skellington. I mean, who wouldn’t want a guy who is prepared to give up everything he knows to play Santa Claus for the woman he loves?”
Eoghan’s face lights up with a smile, and he’s so freaking gorgeous that I have to look away to tame the tingling between my legs.
I’m oblivious to everyone else in the lounge. Until I spot Ruairi standing up and walking away from Sienna.
Was he asking her about me?
Was it some kind of brotherly intervention to find out what my intentions are regarding Eoghan?
I catch Sienna’s eye, and she smiles, but that’s when I realize that Ruairi is taking a photo of her on his phone.
I think. At least, that’s how it looked at first glance.
He slides his phone into his pocket and heads towards the bar without even looking around at us or Sienna, so perhaps I was mistaken.
But it has left me feeling a little weirded out. Was he coming on to her, even though she’s pregnant and I told him she’s marrying my brother in a couple of days from now? That’s just sick, if so. What kind of guy does that?
As if reading my mind, Eoghan says, “Ignore my brother. He doesn’t mean anything by the questions.”
I face him and smile. “But you do?”
His expression grows serious, his eyes stormier than ever, and I wonder how it would feel to get lost in them. Like I was drowning perhaps? But what a way to go.
“I was using the questions as a distraction.” His voice is practically a growl and I’m reminded of a tawny wolf stalking me through the woods.
“From?”
“From your lips.” He swallows.
His eyes roam my body, and my pussy latches onto them like they’re magnets sucking me in.
I swallow too, only my mouth is dry, every ounce of liquid in my body having traveled south and settled in the sensitive area between my legs.
Is this what happened when Sienna met Kyle?
Because right now, Eoghan could ask me to ride off with him to the other side of the world, and I’d be powerless to resist.
I don’t see his hand move, but I feel his fingers brush the side of my breast through my shirt, and I feel my nipple harden in response.
“And from wanting to touch you in places you’ve never been touched before.”
That’s it. Someone switched the thermostat up inside me, and I can already feel the sweat trickling between my breasts and down my spine. Only it doesn’t make me feel unclean. It unleashes something feral inside me that I never knew existed.
“Such as?”
Tell me I did not just fucking say that out loud. Lord, please tell me that I only thought it, that the words didn’t reach his ears because if they did, I’m going to need the ground to open up and swallow me whole. Like right fucking now, Lord!
“Such as…” He leans closer, negating the need for divine intervention. “You know that tender spot between your pussy and your ass.”
His breath is warm on my cheek, and I slide my hands underneath my thighs to stop me from reaching out, gripping his face, and pushing my tongue down his throat. You know, just in case I’ve totally misread the situation, and he isn’t flirting with me in the sexiest way imaginable.
“What I wouldn’t give right now to suck on it until you come on my face.”
I blink. Hard. It does nothing to quell my throbbing sex.
Did he say that? Or is my overactive imagination putting words into my head?
The kind of words that belong inside a steamy romance novel being read by a PA in black-rimmed spectacles, neat ballet pumps and a pencil skirt, riding the subway to an office where the boss is a beast in designer suits with muscles so ripped they could cut glass.
If my brothers could hear this conversation…
No. No. No! I refuse to let them inside my head; it would be wrong on so many levels, that I instinctively lean in closer to Eoghan, so close that my lips brush his cheek sending tingles down my spine.
“How do you know I’ve never been touched there before?” I breathe.
Jesus fucking Christ on a bike. Who is this woman I’ve become since I sat down?
“Have you?” The tip of his tongue enters my ear, and the last of my resolve to play it cool melts like chocolate left out in the sunshine.
“No.” Because it’s the truth.
But now, suddenly, my answers to his questions come rushing back and slap me in the face like a wet towel. Sixteen Candles? Mary-Kate and Ashley? He’s going to think I’m fresh out of high school and never been kissed.
Which, to be fair, isn’t a million miles from the truth.
“Would you like to?” He somehow manages to speak and lick the inside of my ear as if it’s the most natural thing on earth. Like he practices the move … a lot.
“Yes.” Also, the truth.
“Sorry to break up the party.” Ruairi has rejoined us, and I didn’t even notice. He sets three cans of soda and some snacks down on the coffee table and resumes his seat. “Who’s up for a game of Rummy?”
Eoghan pulls away from me, but his thigh is still pressed hard against mine.
I can feel the heat of his body from the top of my skull to my painted toenails inside my high-tops.
It almost feels as though, having branded my skin with his tongue, he is now claiming me with his thigh, and instead of wanting to run away, I’m prepared to wear a cap that says I BELONG TO EOGHAN BYRNE.
Like, what the hell is wrong with me? I wasn’t raised to be submissive. My brothers taught me how to handle myself in a fight, and here I am desperate to know how it would feel to be touched where Eoghan—a guy I just met—said he would touch me.
“I’m in.” Eoghan watches me, his expression unreadable.
“Me too,” I say before I can talk myself out of it.
Eoghan might be the most insanely gorgeous guy I’ve ever met, but there is something vulnerable about him that makes me want to throw my arms around his neck and feed him apple pie and happy stories from my childhood.
How is it even possible to feel such overwhelming desire for someone, but at the same time imagine cozying up in a rocking chair with them in front of a roaring fire with Frank Sinatra songs playing in the background?
Is it me? Am I a paradox? Am I a virgin with a slutty soul?
I glance at Sienna who is still studying the screen of the tablet in her hands searching for sexy underwear to impress my brother. And bizarrely, the thought no longer makes me freak out.
Eoghan doesn’t move his leg. Either he isn’t distracted by the feel of my thigh pressed up against his or the way his arm caresses my breast when he reaches to pick up his cards, or he wants me to know that he’s enjoying it.
So, I push back. I rest my elbow on his leg when I pick up my cards and get a thrill when he adjusts the bulge inside his pants to get comfortable.
I can’t believe this is happening to me.
But at the same time, I love it.
I focus on the game. I’ve spent years learning to count the cards with my brothers; it’s what happens when your family owns a string of casinos. So, I win the first round easily.
And the second.
And the third.
Ruairi watches me with a lazy smile, his gray-green eyes slanted at the corners.
Eoghan’s gaze doesn’t meet mine, like he’s trying hard to focus on the game because he doesn’t trust himself to look at me, not with his brother gate-crashing whatever this is going on between us.
And this new me can’t resist the temptation.
Ruairi has deliberately placed the cans of soda on the far side of the table where it’s easy for him to reach them.
So, I lean across Eoghan’s lap, crushing my breasts against his legs, and leaving them there a beat too long, to be sure that he understands before I straighten with a can of Diet Coke in my hand.
Is it my imagination, or did he groan out loud?
Ruairi chuckles. “We should play the next round for money.”
“I have a better idea.” I chew my bottom lip when Eoghan’s gaze finally travels to my face. “Why don’t we play for my cell phone number?”
Because it seems there is no limit to how far I’ll go to get the area between my pussy and my ass sucked. My pussy flares its nostrils at me like a fire-breathing dragon at the suggestion, like she’ll hold me to ransom if I let her down on this.
“I hate to break it to you,” Ruairi says, “but I’m not interested in winning your cell phone number.”
“You’re not going to win.” I don’t even look at him.
“Challenge accepted.” Ruairi hands over the deck of cards for Eoghan to deal them out. “Winner takes all.”
I feel the flush in my cheeks, but it’s quickly replaced by the steely determination not to let Eoghan’s brother win.
He made it perfectly clear that he doesn’t want my number, and I made it perfectly clear that I won’t give it to him, but I sense that this is more than simply about winning a game of cards.
This is a way of life. Ruairi is used to getting what he wants, and he’s used to getting what his brother wants too.
But I’m not an object to be bartered with. And perhaps I should’ve told him that he isn’t the only person here who has spent a lifetime getting spoiled.