by Keeland, Vi
“What’s going on?”
“That woman the other night just freaked me out, I guess.”
My brows drew together. At first I wasn’t even sure who the hell she was referring to. “Shannon?”
She nodded.
“We stopped seeing each other probably two years ago. I had no idea she worked there.”
“I believe you. It’s just something she said.”
I tried to think back, but I couldn’t remember Shannon saying much of anything once Ireland had arrived. “What did she say?”
“She came into the ladies’ room when I was in there and said you guys had dated for six months, not just gone out a few times.”
“I honestly have no idea how long it lasted… Maybe we went out six times over four months, at the most. It sounds like she was trying to make it out to be something more than it was.”
“She also said it took her almost a year to get over you.”
I frowned. “I had no idea she followed you into the ladies’ room. I’m sorry if she felt that way. But like I told you, I was honest with women I had any type of arrangement with from the start.”
“I know. And she said that, too. But…” She shook her head.
This was all my fault. I was fucking things up. Ireland was afraid to be with me because I’d given her no reason to feel secure. The best I’d offered was that I wasn’t sure what I was capable of. If it wasn’t me pulling back, it was her. The two of us were playing a game of perpetual chicken, and it was time for me to either get the hell off the road or say fuck it and crash into her and hang on.
I leaned forward. “I’m crazy about you, Ireland. The only other woman I told that to, I married. I’m sorry for giving you doubt. I know I’ve done that. But…” I made sure to look directly into her eyes. “I want to make it work with you. For the last seven years, I didn’t want to make anything work. I think about you at eleven a.m. when I’m busy in a meeting. The last seven years, I only thought about women at eleven p.m. when I was lonely. There’s a big fucking difference.”
Ireland’s eyes started to water. “I want it to work, too.”
I smiled. “So let’s do that, sweetheart. Let’s just let it work.”
She took a minute, maybe to digest everything I’d said, I wasn’t sure.
But then she smiled. “Okay.”
I let out a breath. “Do you want to get some lunch or what?”
She nodded. “I need about twenty minutes to finish up.”
I stood. “I’ll order us something. Meet me over in my office when you’re done.”
“Okay.”
I turned around to open the door, but I stopped with my hand on the handle. “Take off your underwear before you come. Because when we’re done with lunch, I’m going to eat you on my desk.”
***
The bride is supposed to be the center of attention at a wedding, but I couldn’t keep my eyes off of the woman in royal blue. The sexy spaghetti-strap dress hugged every one of Ireland’s luscious curves, and her pinned-up hair showcased a long, delicate neck and that collarbone I loved so much. Her skin was creamy and smooth, perfectly unblemished, and I sat in my seat salivating at the thought of sinking my teeth into it tonight while I tore that pretty dress from her body. She squinted and smirked as she walked toward where I sat watching her from across the room.
“You look devious right now,” she said, arriving at the table.
I took her hand and tugged her to sit on my lap. “That’s because I’m thinking devious thoughts.”
She giggled. “Oh yeah? Tell me about them on the dance floor. I think I’m done with wedding party duties, so I’m all yours for the rest of the night.”
“I like the sound of that.”
Out on the dance floor, I pulled her close and rested my cheek against hers. I used the opportunity to whisper in her ear. “Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”
“You did. But that’s okay. I don’t mind hearing it again.”
“Women don’t usually wear dresses from a wedding party a second time, right?”
“Usually, no. But I think I might get use out of this one. It’s so pretty and simple. It doesn’t look like a typical maid-of-honor dress.”
I spun us around. “I’ll buy you a new one.”
Ireland’s cute little nose wrinkled. “Oh my God, did I get something on it?”
“No, but by morning it’s going to be shredded.”
Her eyes widened. “It’s ripped? Where?”
“Relax. It’s not ripped…yet. But I’m literally going to tear it from your body later.”
She smiled. “Is that what you were thinking when I walked over? You had such a devilish face.”
“It’s the only thing I’ve been able to think about since I picked you up tonight.”
She tucked her head in so we were cheek to cheek again and whispered in my ear, “Remember when we danced at the fundraiser?”
“I do.”
“My entire body was tingly while I was in your arms, and I had to pretend to be unaffected while we danced.”
I smiled. “And I had to keep my hips at a distance so you didn’t feel how hard you were making me.”
“I guess we’ve both been attracted to each other from the beginning.”
“Sweetheart, you have no idea. You had my curiosity piqued with a drunken email that told me to go to hell.”
We danced in comfortable silence for a minute. One song ended and a new one began. I was grateful it was another slow song so I had a reason to keep Ireland in my arms. I shut my eyes and enjoyed the moment. Though the woman in my arms must’ve been looking around.
“I don’t want a big wedding like this,” she said.
Normally, a woman even mentioning the word wedding had me running for the hills. But not this time. I wanted to hear more.
“Were you one of those little girls who played bride when you were a kid? When I was little, my sisters used to spend an entire day making decorations for the living room for their pretend weddings. They’d take turns wearing our mother’s wedding dress, and my mother would make me stand in as the groom. I hated it.”
She laughed. “That must’ve been adorable.”
“It was more like torture.”
She sighed. “I didn’t have any siblings, and my parents had a screwed-up relationship. So maybe that’s why I never really imagined my wedding as a little girl.”
That made me hold her tighter. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I’m not sure if little girls dreaming about weddings is so healthy anyway. I didn’t play bride, but I definitely played news anchor. I spent hours in front of the mirror talking into my hairbrush handle. At least I didn’t grow up chasing some fantasy of what a wedding is supposed to be.”
“So no big white dress and three hundred people at a catering hall then?”
She shook her head. “Nope. I want to be barefoot on a beach somewhere. Maybe at sunset with a few friends and close family, and lights hanging from palm trees while a local calypso band plays.”
I smiled. “That sounds nice.” It was the first time in forever that I’d discussed anything to do with a wedding without comparing it to my and Lily’s fiasco. I had no desire to think of my ex-wife when Ireland was in my arms. With every woman I’d been with since my divorce, I’d wanted that constant reminder—wanted to remember why I needed to keep my distance. Yet with Ireland, I wanted to forget it and move on.
The rest of the evening, we alternated talking to her friends, hanging out with the bride and groom, and dancing together. She even made me dance to some pop music, which I never did. But it was worth it to watch her tits bounce up and down while she jumped. By the end of the night, I couldn’t wait to get her back to the hotel alone. I’d admitted I couldn’t wait to rip the dress off of her, but I knew I would follow her lead as to where she wanted things to go. She’d invited me to stay the night, but I still wasn’t sure if she was ready to take the next step.
&nb
sp; So I slowed things down once we were in her suite. I opened wine and handed it to her while she looked out at the water from the bedroom window.
“Thank you.”
I had to shove my free hand into my pocket to stop myself from touching her. One touch while we were alone in a room with nothing but a bed, and I could be done for. So instead, I sipped my wine and stared out at the sea with her.
She turned to look at me. “You’re awfully quiet since we got here.”
“Am I?”
She nodded. “Mmm-hmm. And you’re awfully…far away. For a man who told me my dress was going to be shredded by morning, I figured any quiet would be because your tongue was down my throat, and the farthest we’d make it into the room would be my back against the door.”
I turned to look at her. “I’m trying to be a gentleman.”
She tilted her head. “Why?”
“Because I wasn’t sure of your expectations for the evening. I didn’t want to assume that your invitation to stay tonight meant you were ready for anything more than sharing a room.”
Ireland set her wine glass on the table next to her. She reached up and started to unfasten an earring. “If you weren’t feeling uncertain, what would you want?”
She set the earring down on the table next to her full wine glass and began to unfasten the second one.
“What do you mean? What would I want how?” I needed to be sure what she was asking, even though it sounded pretty clearly like she wanted to know what we’d be doing at this very moment if she were game for anything.
“To happen this evening between us. Sexually, I mean.”
I drank a big gulp of my wine while she set the other earring on the table. “You sure you want that answer?”
“I do. I want to hear your honest answer.” She smiled, turned around, and gave me her back. “Would you mind unzipping me?”
Fuck. I swallowed. “Well, I want to spread you wide on that big bed and eat your pussy for starters. Make you dripping wet.”
Ireland’s voice became huskier. “Anything else?”
I reached for her zipper. My hand shook because of how much effort it took to keep my physical self-control. The sound of the teeth slowly coming apart echoed throughout the quiet room.
“Plenty else. I’d lift you up onto the dresser behind me. I’ve already scoped it out, and it’s the perfect height to fuck you while standing up. I want to watch you come and look into your eyes while I plunge as deep as I can and fill you with my cum.”
She laughed nervously. “That’s pretty specific.”
“I’m not done.” I reached the bottom of the zipper and couldn’t help myself. I slipped my hand inside her dress and ran my fingers up her spine. “Then we’ll take a shower together, and I’ll hold your ass in my hands with your legs wrapped around my waist and your back against the tile. When you start to come on my cock, I’ll slip my finger into your ass so you feel me inside of you in every way possible.”
She shivered, so I took that as a sign she wanted to hear more. “After that, I’ll let you get some sleep, and in the morning, we’ll have breakfast together. And by that, I mean, I’ll fill your mouth with my cock while I eat your pussy. You’ll be on top, so you’ll think you have control. But when you start to come on my face, I’ll lift my hips and push into your throat a little farther, then I’ll fill it with my hot cum.”
I used my hands to guide Ireland to turn around. The look on her face was a mixture of shocked and aroused. It was sexy as all hell.
I cupped her cheeks. “Too much?”
She let out a shaky laugh. “I can never accuse you of holding back, can I?”
“What about you?” I ran my fingers along her collarbone. “What do you want?”
She held my eyes while she reached up and pulled the straps from her dress and loosened it from her shoulders. With the back undone, she let go and the material fell to the floor, into a puddle of blue at her feet.
“I’m game for everything you mentioned—except I’d like to add one thing I haven’t been able to stop thinking about.”
She looked so gorgeous standing before me in nothing but a lacy, royal blue bra and panties. Her ample tits practically spilled over the little cups. Distracted, I’d heard her speak, but didn’t really comprehend a word of what she’d said.
I shook my head. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”
Her lips curved to a wicked grin. “I said I wanted to add one thing to your plans. Is that okay?”
“Whatever you want.”
Ireland’s eyes sparkled, right before she dropped to her knees.
Oh shit.
I had the strongest desire to close my eyes and thank the dear Lord for getting this woman drunk enough to write a scathing email, but I couldn’t take my eyes off the sight of Ireland on her knees in front of me. She unbuckled my pants and unzipped me while I stood, unable to form words. When her little hand reached in and squeezed my already hard cock, I thought I might come then and there.
I hissed. “I’m not going to last, sweetheart.”
She looked up and smiled as she fisted my dick. “It’s okay. We have all night.”
She pumped my cock twice, slowly, while she wet her lips, and then she lowered her jaw and slid me inside. There was no preamble, no licking my head and swirling her tongue around my crown, the way most women seemed to like to do—which was nice and all, but totally unnecessary when a man is raring to go already. I wasn’t sure if I should appreciate that Ireland seemed to know that, or if it should bother me that she did, but as she started to bob her head, I couldn’t even remember what I’d been considering debating.
Once my cock was inside her beautiful mouth, she lowered her jaw a little more and shocked the crap out of me by swallowing.
Fuck me. She can deep throat. I’m done.
Just as fast as I was down her throat, she pulled back and let her flattened tongue glide along the underside of my dick as it slid almost all the way back out. Her eyelashes batted, and as she looked up at me, I could see the mirth in her gaze.
“Jesus Christ, Ireland.”
She slid back down and again took me all the way into her throat. I had to look up at the ceiling to keep myself from being a two-pump chump who finished before she’d really started. Watching her on her knees, swallowing my cock, was too much to handle. I groaned and reached down to tangle my fingers in her hair.
I tried not to look down, or watch her head as it bobbed up and down each time my cock went in and out of her throat, but I couldn’t fucking help myself. The sight was just too incredible to miss. Ireland took me deep a few more times and then switched from long, deep sucks to short, fast pumps with her mouth and hand.
It was seriously the most brilliant thing I’d ever felt. It was like I’d died and gone to porn star heaven.
I tried to hold back, but she made it damn near impossible. Especially when she reached up and urged my hands into her hair to guide the rhythm. She’d basically given me license to fuck her face. As much as I would have liked to stand here and do that all day long, I only made it three pumps more. The urge to finish was too strong, no matter how hard I tried.
I’d told her I wanted to come down her throat, and I did, more than anything, but I also wasn’t an asshole. She might deep throat like a porn star, but she was a woman I respected. So I had to warn her.
“Ireland…baby. Fuck. I’m gonna…come.”
But she didn’t move away. I was just about to warn her again, just in case she hadn’t heard me. When I looked down, Ireland’s eyes were shut, but sensing me, she opened them and looked up.
“Babe, I’m gonna come.”
She responded by sucking me in so deep, I thought I might never come out—not that I wanted to. Ireland Saint James’s throat was my nirvana, and I never wanted to leave. But she’d heard me loud and clear that time, and she made sure I knew it. She wanted me to come down her throat, and I was fucking thrilled to oblige. With the groan of her name and one more
thrust, I stopped moving my hips and let go, filling her throat with a never-ending stream.
I barely had the strength to pull her to her feet when she was done.
“Jesus Christ, Ireland. How the hell did you learn to do that?” I shook my head, still lightheaded from my release. “Forget it. I don’t want to know.”
Ireland giggled. “I told you I liked to watch men being pleasured. Might have picked up a thing or two.”
I looked up at the ceiling. Thank you, Lord. Any answer other than her learning it by watching a video would have been totally unacceptable.
I smiled. “You couldn’t be more perfect if I’d made you myself.”
“By the way, I’m on the pill.”
It was going to be one hell of a long night.
Chapter 24
* * *
Ireland
I once read an article that said the average time spent on foreplay was fourteen minutes. Obviously in the beginning things usually went a little longer for a couple, but I’d never spent two hours fooling around with a man without getting to sex—even when foreplay was all that was going to happen.
But Grant took his time, and I really, really liked that. After I went down on him, he repaid the favor by giving me two orgasms with his mouth. Then we talked while he caressed my body. I thought he needed some recovery time, but when I snuggled closer and felt him fully erect already, I found that was definitely not the case.
He studied my face as he touched my body and told me all the things he wanted to do with me—slide himself between my breasts and come all over my neck, take me from behind, blindfold me, tie me to the bed. I should’ve been satiated after two powerful orgasms, but the more he talked, the more I wanted him inside of me.
Grant started at my ear and kissed his way down my body to my toes. Then he licked and sucked his way back up. I was frenzied by the time he finally began to kiss me again. It made me crazy that he didn’t seem as desperate as I felt. So I made it my personal mission to make him feel the same way I did.
When he kissed my neck, I nudged him a little, encouraging him to roll onto his back, and I climbed onto him. I took his mouth in a kiss as I slid my hips down so my wet center lined up over his erection. Then I started to grind against him as the kiss heated. That did the trick. In one swift move, I was on my back, and Grant was hovering over me again. Only this time, he looked a lot more impatient. The victorious smile I flashed was met with a growl.
