by Abby Green
But she recovered quickly. ‘Yeah, and people who say things like that have one-track minds.’
Her voice was husky. It had a direct effect on Liam’s body. He could feel the blood pumping to his cock in earnest now, making it harden and swell even more. He had to shift slightly to ease the discomfort, slightly perturbed by the strength of his reaction.
She pushed back some hair behind her ear, which was small and feminine. Her hair was long, below shoulder length, and wavy. A deep auburn colour. Her skin was creamy, flawless. Her mouth...was soft and full. Very kissable.
She glanced at him and his dick jerked. Damn.
‘I’m here for a while...not sure how long.’
Liam forced his mind out of his pants with an effort. ‘So you’re just...hanging out?’
She glanced away again and lifted one slim shoulder, ‘I guess. I’m looking for a job...’
Liam’s gaze narrowed on her, the sweeping curve of her delicate jaw. He sensed she was holding something back. But what did he care? All he knew was that the prospect of a little flirtation seemed to be exactly the thing to drive away the lingering broodiness that had clung to him since he’d decided to come into the bar.
‘Will you excuse me?’
Liam blinked, feeling slightly disorientated. She was looking at him with those mesmerizing eyes.
‘I’m just going to the bathroom.’
He found his voice. ‘Sure.’
She swivelled on the stool and jumped off and Liam was shaking his head at her lack of street smarts when she left her bag behind, but then his eyes tracked her as she walked away and his mind went blank.
He went from sixty to a hundred into a raging erection as he took in a very lush butt and slim legs encased in skinny jeans. She was lithe but deliciously curvy. When she turned to the side to let someone pass, he saw the thrust of small but succulently plump breasts push against her T-shirt. Their hard tips were defined and his mouth watered at the thought of baring her, and sucking one deep into his mouth, rolling his tongue around it. Teasing it with his teeth.
He turned back to the bar and pulled her bag close where he could keep an eye on it. Sweet Jesus. He was literally throbbing now, his jeans painfully restrictive. He scowled. That girl was trouble with a capital T. It might as well be a neon sign over her head with an arrow pointing downward. And damn it to hell if he didn’t want to take trouble for a ride, given half a chance.
* * *
I tried to walk away as elegantly as I could from the sex god at the bar. I hoped I wouldn’t trip and fall flat on my face. My body felt like it was overheating. Between my legs was indecently slick. I could feel it when I moved. When I eventually got to the bathroom I locked myself into a stall and took deep breaths, trying to calm my racing heart. Thankfully, it seemed that with a bit of distance my vibrating clitoris was also calming down.
Christ on a bike. There was no doubt about it. That man out there was fun, freedom and adventure all wrapped up in the sexiest packaging I’d ever seen in my life. And I’d only been in Manhattan for a week.
I huffed out a breath. Cool your jets, Caitlin. I was getting overexcited. The guy could be some kind of sexually deviant axe murderer.
But...a voice wheedled in my head, he was way too gorgeous to be a sexual deviant or a murderer. Actually, the thought of sexual deviance wasn’t so repugnant for a moment. Maybe I needed some kind of perversion to throw me over the elusive orgasmic edge.
A bit of ass-slapping or bondage? After all, wasn’t that all the rage these days? My bottom seemed to heat up at the very prospect.
I wondered vaguely how many things I could ask a man like him to try in the space of one night? My heart sped up again—what was I doing? Already having sex with the guy in my head just because we’d exchanged a few sentences and he was more beautiful than any man I’d ever seen? No doubt he was just being polite, humouring the tourist.
A quick glance in the mirror outside the toilet stall confirmed that I looked faintly manic. Cheeks flushed, eyes glittering. Nipples standing out like beacons saying bite me quick, suck me slowly! Just that thought...of his mouth latched onto one of my sensitized nipples nearly made my legs buckle.
Two girls came in then, chatting and laughing and I straightened up and walked out. As I approached him again he was turned to the bar, nursing his drink. I saw that he’d pulled my bag closer and had the strap looped around his wrist and something in me melted at that consideration. Normally I’d never be so careless...it just went to prove how fried my brain was.
His back was very broad, tapering down to slim hips. He was wearing jeans. His arms were muscled and just then he lifted his glass and the muscle bunched and flexed. And there went my clit again, as if a homing device had started back into action because I was only feet away from him.
As if sensing my intense focus, he turned just as I reached the stool. I clambered back up, but so inelegantly that he curled a hand around my upper arm to help steady me.
Instant heat liquefied what was left of my brain. His hand lingered on my arm even when I didn’t need it. I looked at him and my mouth got dry. Heart beating fast. Maybe the prospect of sex wasn’t so imaginary.
His eyes went to my mouth as if deliberately and then back up to meet my gaze. He was telling me he wanted me. Or was he? My body hummed with awareness and hope. His hand finally loosened on my arm, but he didn’t take it away, he let it drift down, fingers trailing suggestively, sexily, against my inner arm, making my skin tingle, touching off the side of my breast.
He was interested. No doubt now.
My heart pounded.
‘Can I get you another beer?’
I didn’t even look to see if my last one was finished. ‘Sure. Thank you.’ I sucked in oxygen as he looked away from me to get the barman’s attention, trying in vain to make the heat die down in my cheeks. And body.
I saw that he left a couple more dollars than required as the tip and said with some embarrassment, ‘I forgot...about leaving the tips here. We don’t do that at home.’
I noticed that his hands were big and masculine looking as he pushed the bottle of beer toward me. They looked like the kind of hands that could do some serious manual labour and those clever long fingers looked as if they could stroke a woman to an effortless orgasm.
Face burning at the rampant image of those fingers exploring my body, I vaguely heard him ask something. He was looking at me expectantly. Mortification burned me up. I was never this distracted by a guy.
‘I’m sorry, what?’
‘Where are you staying?’
His voice was so deep I felt it in the pit of my belly. Just like in my dream.
Seizing on banal conversation as if that might restore some sanity, I said, ‘Not far from here...my aunt’s apartment. I’m looking after it for a few weeks while she’s in India, until I find my own place.’
Liam frowned. ‘Is she from Ireland, too?’
I nodded and explained, ‘My father and aunt came to look for work when they were barely out of their teens, they got green cards. My father met my mother here—from home, too. Me and my older brother and sister were all born here, but we moved back to Dublin when I was still a baby. My aunt stayed on. She’s a bit eccentric.’
Liam quirked a half smile. ‘Plenty of those in New York. So what kind of work are you looking for?’
I had to rip my eyes off his mouth...that smile had just distracted me all over again. I dragged my wanton gaze away, focused on my beer.
‘I’ve got a degree in marketing and business...so I’ll be looking for an internship somewhere and then hopefully a job...but in the meantime I’m looking for waitressing or bar work to tide me over.’
‘So you’re staying awhile?’
I snuck him a look and all I could see were those amazing blue eyes. I nodded.
‘There’s not much going on at home. Recession.’
Jesus. I could hardly string a sentence together. In a bid to get his focus off me, I asked him, ‘So what about you? What do you do?’
Liam took a swig of his beer and I saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. Cue yet more heat between my legs. Was there nothing this man could do that I wouldn’t find a turn-on?
‘I manage a bar.’ He grimaced slightly. ‘Well, that’s to say, I sort of own it. It’s the family business. We do food during the day and then it’s a full bar at night. A good old-fashioned Irish American bar.’
Now I frowned and turned toward him. ‘Sort of own it?’
His eyes flashed as if he regretted letting that slip out. ‘I do own it, it’s just complicated because my old man is still alive, but he hasn’t been involved in the business for a long time.’
He looked away abruptly and I felt the keen sense not to push. Then he looked at me again and his eyes were searingly blue.
‘Do you want to get out of here?’
His words detonated any slim chance of me clinging onto any sense of sanity when I felt as though I was burning up from the inside out. No man, ever, had made me feel so aroused...or aware of myself.
I huffed a weak joke. ‘You’re not a psychopath, are you?’
He smiled and it was feral. ‘Would I tell you if I were?’
I swallowed and saw nothing but a heat haze of desire that seemed to cocoon us. I wanted this man’s mouth on mine...all over. I wanted to press against him so hard my body would leave an imprint on his.
He smiled then, making little bombs of sensation explode all over my skin. ‘No, I’m not a psychopath, Caitlin, although my buddy Mike might disagree when we watch the Knicks and they’re losing.’
I melted even more. Excitement seized my insides, making them tight. I wanted this guy. With a hunger I’d never experienced before. It was physical, visceral. Before I could lose my nerve, I said, ‘Yes, I’d like to leave.’
And then, just in case he was in any doubt I’d suddenly decided to leave without him, I added, ‘With you.’
Those blue eyes glittered.
‘I have a ride outside. Come on.’
He stepped from his stool and I knew there was no going back. He had to be at least six foot four. Broad all over, but lean. Clearly defined pectorals, flat belly. Slim hips. And the faded jeans. Clinging low to those hips. Muscled thighs.
I hadn’t even realized I’d been giving him such a thorough once-over until I heard a dry ‘Ready to go?’ and looked up to realize that he was holding my bag. My head nodded jerkily, blood pounding. I slipped off the stool and landed close to his body, and felt every inch of my very average five foot four next to his towering height.
His sheer size and masculinity overwhelmed me for a moment. He was too perfect. This couldn’t be happening. But I really hoped it was. He took my hand in his and I felt calluses on the palm. My legs were like jelly as he tugged me through the heaving bar.
The thought that I was being a complete slut to leave a bar with a guy I’d only met a scant hour before entered my head, but I quashed it. There was something different about him, trustworthy. No matter how desperate I was to embark on a pilgrimage of sexual adventure, I wasn’t completely stupid or without morals. Yeah, right.
He opened the door and we stepped out into the warm balmy Manhattan evening. The sky was a stunning dusky violet colour, completely clear. He was still holding my hand. He was even more gorgeous now, shadows making his face look all lean and stark. Dangerous. But in a sexy way. Not in a psychopathic way, I hoped, in spite of his joking.
His thumb swept across the pulse point at my wrist, and my legs wobbled. Right then I was prepared to take the risk.
The air seemed to sizzle between us, like a live current. He came close and let my hand go to lift his and slide it around the back of my neck. Every nerve point in my body sat up and vibrated gently, none more so than in my pants.
‘Caitlin...?’
The deep voice made my insides clench. I was fixated on his mouth.
‘Hmm?’
He cursed then, but I barely heard it before his head dipped and his mouth settled over mine. I had to clutch onto his T-shirt to stay standing. It was the kiss of my dreams. Forceful yet gentle. My mouth opened under his, eager to taste him, and his tongue touched mine in a teasing caress before his teeth nipped at my lower lip.
I fisted my hands in his T-shirt, the backs of my fingers grazing that hard wall of steel, and I went up on tiptoe. Angling my head, the kiss suddenly became deeper and I stroked my tongue along his. His hand clasped my head tighter, holding me captive.
I was drowning in sensations, eddying and swirling through my lower body. I wasn’t even aware of pushing my breasts against him, seeking to ease the stinging of my nipples.
After a long drugging moment when the entire world could have gone up in flames and combusted around me, Liam pulled back. I opened my eyes and felt dizzy. My lips were swollen, tingling. Those stunning blue eyes looked at me and he uttered, ‘Holy crap.’
Chapter Three
My thoughts exactly...if I could articulate a word. Suddenly he was pulling me by the hand toward a motorbike parked nearby. My insides turned to mush. Any vague resistance I might have put up died a death. He drove a freaking motorbike?
He let me go to reach for helmets and handed me one, an intent look on his face that was seriously sexy. I took my bag from him, too, which I had totally forgotten about and hung it diagonally across my body.
Once our helmets were on, he swung his leg over the bike and a fresh spasm of lust made me feel weak.
He held out an arm and I clasped it to steady myself as I swung my leg over the bike, too. His muscles bunched under my fingers. And then I was behind him, sliding down until his hard butt was right between my thighs, my throbbing clitoris practically singing for joy. The prospect of a first-time multiple orgasm was not that fantastical.
He turned his head and said, ‘Hang on.’
I needed no encouragement. I wound my arms around his torso, clasping my hands just over the waistband of his jeans. I felt his washboard abs contract as he turned the bike on and pushed down to make it roar. The friction against my jeans and between my legs was delicious torture.
We were about to move off and then he stopped and turned his head again. I heard him huff out a small laugh. ‘Your address?’
I called it out to him, relieved that he sounded as thrown as me by this. And then we were off, roaring down the quiet streets, block after block.
We weren’t that far from my apartment, so we were parking again just minutes later. I don’t think I could have lasted for much longer on the bike without sexually molesting him. The bulge in his pants had been grazing my fingers provocatively.
I got off first and pulled off the helmet, smoothing my hair. I felt nervous all of a sudden. But then he was getting off the bike and nerves dissolved as I devoured his tall lean form.
Please don’t let him be some rat who’s cheating on his girlfriend, I prayed silently. But to my shame, I wasn’t prepared to jeopardize this night and ask him to confirm he was single. I just trusted that he was a moral guy. Yeah, who takes a stranger home from a bar to shag her brains out. With any luck! I answered my snarky conscience.
He’d stashed the helmets again and was looking at me. It took me a second to act. I rooted around in my bag for the keys and went to the door, opening it.
I led the way upstairs, very conscious of him looking at my bum. I did a quick mental inventory of personal hygiene. I’d showered that afternoon between job hunts. And I’d done a complete body-hair-removal overhaul before leaving Dublin, mindful of being prepared at all times.
I now thanked God for my foresight. Even though, I worried my lower lip as my aunt’s brightly
painted door loomed, I wasn’t an advocate of the completely shaven nether regions...so I hoped he wasn’t one of these men who fainted with shock to see that a woman actually grew pubic hair between her legs.
I had been with a guy in college who had literally gone green at the sight. Needless to say, that relationship had fizzled pretty quickly.
I opened the apartment door and the faint familiar smell of incense assailed my nostrils. I walked in and held the door back and waited, holding my breath.
Liam’s eyes met mine as he passed me and the air seemed to crackle with electricity. He smiled, slow and sexy. With a definite hint of wickedness. I sucked in a breath once he was in and closed the door and followed him, turning on lamps.
I realized then what he must be thinking as he looked around, and I said rather redundantly, ‘I did say my aunt was a bit eccentric.’
His voice was dry. ‘No shit.’
I had to smile at his tone. Each wall was painted a different colour. One wall sported a mural that looked suspiciously like a woman’s vulva, not that I even knew for certain what a vulva looked like even though I had one.
There were crystals in every window, dream catchers swinging in the warm breeze. Beaded chiffon throws over chairs and the couch. A big fat Buddha statue sat in a corner surrounded by unlit candles. It was bohemian-hippie chic, to say the least.
‘This is one hell of an apartment.’
My mouth was still quirking as I came to stand beside him. ‘My aunt is about seventy, even though she could pass for fifty. She’s on a yoga-and-meditation retreat in India right now. And her name is June, but she’s currently answering to the name Star. Last year it was Lakshmi, after the Indian goddess of abundance. She has a tattoo on her back of the phases of the moon.’
I was babbling now. Liam turned toward me. My pulse zoomed skyward again. Mouth dry, I forced myself to try to remember social niceties. ‘Do you...would you like a drink?’
He shook his head, ‘I don’t drink.’
I frowned. ‘But you were drinking in the bar.’
