Irish Affair

by Heartley, Amanda

  “Tomorrow is pretty open for me, though” she replies, her expression hopeful. “I mean, if you wanted to catch up again?”

  “Breakfast.” I declare with a nod. “I’ll be here at nine, sharp. I’ll take you to Keogh’s. My treat,” I assure her.

  “Great. I’ll see you then,” she says shyly.

  She slides off her chair, a little unsteady on her feet as she walks over to the stairs and gives me a little cock-hardening wave before she disappears. I’m curious to know more of her story. I look up and see Maureen leaning against the counter in front of me. She smirks at me and raises her eyebrows. I groan, sure I’m about to receive a lecture of some kind. I love Maureen, but you’d think she was my mother half the time, instead of my aunt. She’s owned this place for five years, and sometimes I feel like it’s the only place I can go where I’m not going to be recognized. Well, most of the time, anyway.

  “Don’t say it,” I warn her, but she does anyway.

  “She has no idea who the devil you are, does she?” she laughs.

  “Did you hear her dissing my song?” I chuckle. I lean back on my seat and sigh. “I’m pretty sure that’s a no.”

  “Just be careful. She sounds like she’s been through some crap. She might see you not divulging your identity a little differently than you do.”

  “I’ll tell her,” I assure her. “Just not yet.”

  She’s right. Amelia has been fucked around big time by the sounds of it. The last thing I want is to get off on the wrong foot by deceiving her. It’s better coming from me, rather than her finding out when someone approaches us on the street tomorrow. I love that she wants to spend time with me as myself, and not Rory Maguire, country music star.

  I’ll tell her…once she’s gotten to know me a little more.

  Chapter Three

  Amelia

  Spending the day with a guy I barely know in the middle of a foreign country probably isn’t my smartest move. I’m sure I’ve seen this movie, and it didn’t end well. He seems like a nice guy, so he must be, right? A little paranoid maybe, like he thinks everyone is watching him, but nice all the same, and my heart races when I see Rory walking down the street toward me.

  I’m standing outside the front of the pub, where I’ve been waiting for him for the last ten minutes. My phone buzzes and I glance down. It’s Clare. I laugh when I read her text because it’s exactly what I was expecting her to say.

  Clare: One night, no strings. That’s all I’m gonna say. xo

  That’s exactly what Clare would do in this situation. The problem is, I’m not Clare. I can’t just turn my head off like that and dive into something when I know it’s not going anywhere. I glance back at my new friend, wondering if he’d be up for a casual hook-up. Probably. Last night, there were a few times where I was sure he was checking me out.

  “Top o’the mornin’ to ya,” he grins at me. His eyes roam over me and I shiver, glad I chose the slinky black skirt that ends above the knee, showing off my long legs—even if it is a little cold for it. “Are you ready, lass?”

  “Top o’the morning to you, too,” I reply with a chuckle. “You don’t really say that to each other over here, do you?”

  “Begorrah and bejaysus. To be sure, to be sure we do,” he replies, trying to stifle his laughter. I slap his arm playfully when I realize he’s winding me up again. “No, we don’t!” he continues emphatically. “That’s all Hollywood hype. Hi, or hello will do you just fine here. In fact, never use those phrases in Ireland, okay!” God, he’s so cute, and he looks even better, now I’m sober.

  * * *

  The second I got up to my room last night, I called Clare and I was on the phone for nearly an hour with her. I didn’t care how much it cost. Just talking to her about everything that had happened took a big weight off my shoulders. I’d dodged several calls from Mom, so I was glad to hear Clare say she told her to give me some space, and that I’d be back in a few days anyway.

  I knew exactly what Mom would say if she knew. That I’d made a fool of myself by coming over here and that I should come home now and not drag this out any longer than I had to. That alone made me want to stay here a little longer, just to clear my head. When I go home and face my parents, I want to be in the best frame of mind I can be.

  “So, this guy you’ve been chatting up in bars,” Clare began. “Who is he? What’s he like?”

  “He’s just a guy,” I laughed. “There’s no story, and nothing to tell. He’s showing me around tomorrow,” I added. “He’s nice. Sometimes rude and inappropriate, but still nice. And right now, that’s what I need.”

  “No, what you need is a fling. Something short and sweet, with no strings before you come back here and face the firing squad,” Clare said. “Just have some fun. Stay there for a couple of days, or weeks. Whatever. Get yourself right and then come back.”

  * * *

  “Are you ready?” he asks, snapping out of my thoughts.

  I turn my attention back to Rory, who’s watching me curiously. He’s probably wondering what the hell I’m thinking about. My cheeks heat up and I smile at him.

  “Ready,” I say with a nod, my pulse quickening.

  “Then let’s go.” He grins and takes my hand. “So, Amelia, after what happened when you arrived, how about I improve your first impressions of Ireland and turn this into a trip to remember?”

  “Trust me, I’m not going to forget this in a long while,” I say with a wince. “But, sure, I’m up for whatever you have planned for me.”

  “And that’s why you land yourself in these situations,” he jokes.

  I glance at him and my heart feels lighter in my chest. He’s funny, and very handsome with his mop of reddish-brown hair, chiseled jaw, and piercing green eyes that make my heart skip a beat whenever they meet mine.

  We start the day with a tour of the Guinness plant, and even though I don’t like the stuff, it’s interesting to see how it’s made. After a few samples at the end of the tour, the taste is growing on me. Next stop, Dublin Castle in the historic heart of the city, and as we walk around the grounds, I’m amazed at how beautiful it all is. This is what I think about when I think of Ireland. Ancient castles and big churches, rich with art and history.

  Just when I think I can’t be more impressed, we visit the National Botanic Garden and I’m stunned by all the exotic fruits, tropical plants and sculptures they have here. We wander around for a couple of hours, and when a sudden shower has us quickly heading inside one of the conservatories for shelter, I sigh, resting my head on his shoulder as he puts his arm around me. Okay, I’m officially a convert—I love Ireland. How could I hate somewhere as beautiful as this? And having such a handsome guide to show me around makes it so much sweeter being here.

  * * *

  “So, was that a fun day, or what?” he says with a grin as we arrive back in the city.

  I laugh. “Yeah, okay. So maybe I had a good time,” I admit.

  “I knew it, though I’m not surprised,” he boasts. “Girls generally do have a pretty good time with me,” he says with a smirk.

  “You’re so full of yourself,” I giggle. “But, thank you. You really have turned this trip around for me. Believe it or not, I think I’ll be going home with more than a few good memories of Ireland.”

  “Then how about we make some more?” he suggests, a glint in his eye.

  For a second, I think he’s suggesting something else entirely, then the taxi comes to a halt. We get out, and after paying the driver, he takes my hand and leads me across the road into a karaoke bar.

  “After last night, the last thing I need is more to drink,” I say with a grin. “Which is exactly what I’d need lots of to get up on stage and sing.”

  “Come on,” he coaxes. “You’re in Ireland, girl. Drinking is what we’re famous for.”

  I laugh, because how could I argue with that? We sit in the bar, watching people make complete dicks out of themselves, while we sip our drinks and chat. I’m having
fun, and I’m relieved Rory hasn’t tried dragging me up on stage. He seems less into singing in public than I am, if that’s even possible.

  I decide to limit myself to one pint of beer this time, and though I’m a little tipsy, I’m still in control of what I’m doing, and I’m very much aware of how good Rory smells, standing next to me. Staying in control is where I need to be if I’m going to do what I think I’m going to do after we leave this bar. Clare’s words repeat in my ear, encouraging me. A one-night stand is a good way to get everything out of my system before I go back home. I want to leave Ireland on a high note.

  “This is great and all,” I say, my heart racing, “But, how about we make this trip a little more interesting?”

  “What exactly are you suggesting?” he asks, his eyes sparkling.

  “That you take me back to your place?”

  “I’m staying at the Morrison a few streets away, if you’re suggesting what I think you’re suggesting…”

  “I’m suggesting you take me there before I change my mind,” I whisper.

  My heart is pounding in my chest. I’ve never been this forward with any guy in my life, but it feels good. He grins at me then takes my hand, leading me out the door before I can even think. I giggle to myself at how brazen I’m being. Clare would be so proud of me right now.

  I can’t believe I’m doing this.

  When we reach the hotel, I stop in my tracks. I’m a little overwhelmed since I wasn’t expecting him to be staying in a place so grand. It’s pure class. I feel a little intimidated just walking into the lobby. It has a trendy, uber-chic feel to it with modern furniture, exquisite décor, and expensive-looking fittings everywhere. It’s the kind of place I’d expect to find royalty, or someone famous staying—not a red-headed Irish boy with a cocky grin and a wickedly naughty sense of humor.

  “Holy cow!” I breathe. “This place makes my three-foot room above a pub feel kind of sad.” He chuckles and gives a nod to the front desk staff as he leads me over to the elevator.

  “Yeah, my boss likes to put me up in the nicest places—not that I’m complaining.”

  “But, I thought you lived here in Ireland?” I say, confused. We step inside the elevator and he nonchalantly slides his room key into a slot and pushes the button marked ‘Penthouse’. I can feel my jaw drop in disbelief. Who is this guy?

  “My work takes me all over the place at the moment,” he replies. “I spend a lot of time traveling with my career. I used to live at home, but I haven’t really gotten my act together and found my own place yet. As embarrassing as it is to admit, I just haven’t had the time lately.”

  “Why not just stay with your folks when you’re in Ireland, though?” I ask.

  “My parents live quite a way from Dublin, in County Wicklow. When I’m traveling, it’s just easier to stay close to where I need to work.”

  I nod. “That makes sense.” I want to ask him what kind of work he does, but that can wait. I don’t want anything to spoil this moment. I look down at my hand, which he’s still holding, and smile. His warm touch feels so good. I study his long fingers, and his strong hands, a shiver racing down my spine. I’m really doing this. In a few minutes, I’ll be in his room, about to let those hands explore my body. I take a deep breath, wishing I didn’t feel so anxious. He picks up on my nervousness and smiles at me.

  “You know, we can just grab a drink in the bar if you prefer?” he offers.

  “Or, we can have one in your room,” I say, my pulse racing.

  The elevator doors open straight into the living area of his suite, and I gasp at what I see. It’s absolutely huge with a plush white leather corner sofa facing almost floor-to-ceiling windows that wrap around one side of the room, and everything just screams luxury. He turns back to face me, studying my expression, and I’m suddenly aware that my mouth is wide-open, no doubt matching my eyes.

  “Holy hell! This is amazing.”

  “You like it? It’s somewhere to lay my head at night,” he says, brushing it off like this was normal for him.

  “Yeah, well I’ve never seen a hotel room like this, but talking of somewhere to lay your head, where’s the freakin’ bed?” I ask, eager to be laying on it with him.

  “Oh, that’s in a separate room over there. This is just the living area,” he says, waving his hand to the other side of the room.

  “You mean, there’s more?” I say in disbelief.

  “Yeah, there’s a separate bathroom and dining room too.”

  I can’t control my excitement anymore, and he laughs as I let go of his hand and run across the floor to the window like a little kid, to explore the space. Outside is a wrap-around balcony overlooking the beautiful city of Dublin and the River Liffey, and I can’t stop myself smiling as I walk over and fling open the first door I come to. I gasp, putting my hands to my face when I see the biggest bed ever—bigger than a California King—in a room twice the size of my parents’ lounge back home. I just can’t believe what an amazing place Rory’s staying in, then, suddenly, he’s in front of me, and his soft Irish brogue snaps me out of my daydream.

  “Now, are you sure about this, lass?” he asks, and I nod, eagerly. I want this—I want him. My body is tingling with excitement, and my heart races as he gazes down at me with those sexy green eyes—intense, and alive.

  I push him back against the bed. He sits down, and I climb onto his lap, straddling him, and kiss him forcefully on the mouth. I let out a gasp as I feel his erection pressing against me. He tastes good, almost sweet. I groan as his lips and tongue explore mine, his fingers sliding up my back, expertly unfastening my bra. I sigh as his hands slide over my shoulders and cradle my face, before gently rolling me onto my back beside him.

  He raises my arms above my head, holding them together with one hand while the other moves under my top. I moan, my back arching off the bed as it slips under my loosened bra. He cups my breasts, gently squeezing my nipples while he kisses me passionately and bites my lip. I’m in heaven—so turned on by the way he’s teasing me.

  “Something funny?” I mutter when he stops and smiles.

  “Oh, not at all. Just loving how eager y’are is all,” he replies.

  He lets me go and stands, removing all his clothes, then kneels in front of me. He reaches under my short skirt and pulls my panties down over my hips. I gasp when I feel his fingers trace over my bare, wet pussy. I part my legs, silently begging him to finger me as I thrust myself against him.

  I breathe in sharply and cry out in pleasure when he moves his face between my thighs, kissing and sucking his way up slowly from my knees to my waiting pussy. I wasn’t expecting that, but, God, it feels so good. He licks my wet lips then thrusts his hot tongue inside me, making me moan and my toes curl as I ball my fists in the sheets.

  He looks up at me, his eyes locking onto mine as he sucks and flicks my clit with the tip of his tongue. With every movement, he makes me feel like I’m about to explode. I groan, barely able to contain myself, then grab hold of his arms and pull him up to straddle me. His lips are on mine and I taste myself on him as I reach down and wrap my hand around his hard cock. I feel excitement, and a flutter in my stomach at the thought of him entering me. He seems to sense it, and rocks back on his haunches, tearing open the foil of a condom with his teeth while his twinkling eyes never leave mine.

  “Where the hell did that appear from?” I murmur with a smile.

  “Ah, you know. I hate to admit it now, but I was a Boy Scout once,” he answers, grinning. I giggle and watch him intently rolling it over his length while I quickly slip out of the rest of my clothes. He nestles his thighs between mine and leans forward so the tip of his cock nudges at my entrance. He leans on his elbows and cups my face, kissing me as I lock my legs around his waist, then slowly, gently, he slides his length into my wet pussy, closing his eyes and growling in my ear.

  I gasp, my thighs tensing as his cock fills every inch of me. He rocks into me, and we quickly find our rhythm. My hard nipples
scrape deliciously against his muscular chest, sending shivers through my body as he thrusts into me again and again. We kiss, passionately, but I know it’s just hot monkey sex. I was horny as hell for Garrett when I got off the plane, only to be left frustrated and let down. It feels so fucking good to get some release, especially with a hottie like Rory, and I feel my orgasm building up stronger as we grind against each other.

  Pure, animalistic lust, and I don’t care.

  I moan and pant, and I’m rolling my head from side to side each time his thick cock slides inside me until I can’t hold back anymore. I feel electricity flowing in my veins and out of my fingers and toes. I’m over the edge, arching my back as I come. I feel my legs shaking and I thrust my hips back at Rory as he pounds harder into me. I open my eyes, just as I feel him tense. He throws back his head, his eyes closed tight, and lets out a groan as he comes too. Panting, I wrap my arms and legs tighter around him as his orgasm subsides.

  “Jesus, Amelia. You were amazing,” he murmurs softly in my ear, then rolls off me onto the sheets beside me. He pulls me into his arms and kisses my neck. “Right up there as one of the best experiences of my life, and that’s the God’s honest truth, so it is.”

  “Then you need to get out more,” I joke, biting my lip.

  He laughs out loud. “Really? Well, I don’t know if I want to get out more now I’ve found you.”

  I roll my eyes, and with a glint in his, he kisses his way down my body. Starting with my neck, my breasts, my stomach, and all the way to my thigh where he slides my leg over his shoulder and presses his face against my pussy again. I gasp, and my hips jerk at his touch. I’m not sure I can handle this so soon after just coming, but he’s clearly not about to let up.

  My body trembles as he tongues me. Every lick and suck sending me into raptures. I’m so sensitive, yet I love the feel of his hot mouth on me so much. I moan and sigh, my body aching as he flicks my clit. My fingers thread into his hair and I glance down at him, watching him lick me hungrily. I cry out, my toes curling as I come again. Then, gasping, I roll over with a smile on my face.