I soak it in, without my camera, simply satisfied to feel the ocean breeze on my face.
Eoghan joins me, standing just to my right. I look up at him and smile. I have no words.
“Welcome to the edge of Ireland.”
“The edge?”
“Yes, this is the absolute western edge of Ireland. Next stop, America.”
Tears well in my eyes, as a sudden and unexpected sense of homesickness rushes through me. An ocean and a river separates me from my family.
I’m on my own and so far from home on Día de los Muertos, of all days.
As that idea sinks in, a small voice in my head tells me something different.
You’re not alone.
I’m not. I have Eoghan. He’s been there for me from the first moment, and I have a feeling he will be here for me as long as I stay.
I take hold of his hand as we face west together. He interlaces our fingers and I meet his happy eyes.
“Thank you,” I say.
“You’re welcome, Juliana,” he replies quietly.
Saying thank you isn’t enough. I turn my back to the ocean and hug him. Without missing a beat, he wraps his arms around me and I melt into his embrace. I rest my head over his heart and we stay like that for a long time.
Our bodies press together closer and closer. My breath steadily increases, while his hands start squeezing and sliding up and down my back. His heart thumps rapidly against my cheek and I know in the deep-down core of me that this is happiness.
I know that if I turn my face up toward him, he will look down at me and our lips will be perfectly angled for a kiss. I want him to kiss me. I want that connection again. As I gather a little courage to make my move, he makes his move first, brushing his lips across mine. I want more. I always want more with him, so I weave my fingers into his hair and pull his lips to mine. He gives himself to me completely, taking all the pleasure that this kiss creates, and I try my hardest to imprint this on my memory forever. Falling in love at the edge of Ireland.
Eoghan and I are sitting near the window in a quaint cafe in Dingle. The sun is shining in on us and I’m baffled by Irish weather. I pluck out a couple of rough-cut brown cubes from the sugar bowl and drop them into my Americano. Meanwhile, Eoghan sits across from me, cradling a teacup between his hands and watching steam swirl off the surface. He’s lost in thought again and I want to know why.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
His eyes turn up to meet mine and then he smiles. “Nothing much, lass.”
“Your family?”
“Yeah,” he says, but doesn’t elaborate.
“Will we need to get back to Cork soon, you know, since it’s Sunday?” I ask and take a bite of the scone that sits between us on the tiny table.
He scoffs into his tea. “No,” he answers, and then looks at me with the kindest eyes. “I’m all yours today.”
I can’t resist smiling at that.
“So, what happened last night?”
I can tell he doesn’t really want to talk about it, but he probably should get it off his chest. Selfishly, I’m hoping he’ll let me into his world. I want to know him better.
“My dad came home and my mam welcomed him with open arms.”
“Oh.” That is not what I expected. “Is everything all right?”
He runs a hand over his face, wiping across his mouth. “All right? Yes. No. Maybe. Apparently, the old man actually hit it big. He’s won before, but not like this. He’s riding a high right now, thinking that he’s somehow saved the day, but I have no faith whatsoever that he won’t gamble that money away. That he’ll put us out because of it.”
“How so?”
He hesitates and doesn’t quite answer my question. “Gambling addiction is a terrible thing, lass.”
“I can imagine. How long has it been going on?”
“A very long time.”
I cover his hand with my own. “Tell me about it.”
He blinks a few times and shakes his head. I have a feeling this is the first time he’s ever opened up about it. I’m glad I’m the one he’s opening up to. “How far back should I go? Maybe to when I was thirteen and my dad lost our house payment on a single roll of dice. I overheard my parents arguing about it one night. He promised my mam he’d win it back. He didn’t. Padraig only made matters worse and got his knee broken as a result.”
“Oh my God, Eoghan,” I say, unable to hold back my reaction.
“Thankfully, Grandda Seán, who owned the pub at the time, was able to take us in until my dad cleaned up his act and got back to work on the steady in the back office of a local factory. That lasted a few years, until he got arrested for stealing from the company to feed his habit. He spent three years in prison.”
“Jesus,” I whisper under my breath. “I’m so sorry.”
“You know, it’s been the same old story my whole life. Some men go on binges with drink or women. My dad loses days at a time in the underbelly of Cork and Limerick, gambling.”
“How did you manage while your dad was in prison?”
“My grandda kept us afloat and took me under his wing. There was no way he was going to let my dad get his hands on the pub. An on-premise liquor license to run a proper pub in Ireland is one of the most valuable assets you can have. You can sell it to someone else for tens of thousands, sometimes hundreds of thousands of euros.”
“What? Really?”
“Yeah, it’s a weird system, but the pub is worth so much. There’s no way my dad can be trusted with it, even though it should have been his. When Grandda died five years ago, it skipped a generation and was given to me.”
“That’s how you ended up with the pub?”
“Yeah.”
“How did your dad feel about that?”
“He felt a lot of shame about the whole thing. I don’t think he was ever angry. Maybe he was relieved, like he knew it’d be trouble for him. But he rebounded and started driving the taxi. There’ve been plenty of good times and bad times since then. The bad times have been horrible.”
“What do you mean?”
He lets out a big gust of air. “Well, obviously, the money. We’ve gotten by, but barely. Thank goodness the pub does so well and we can take the cab to supplement things. But really, it’s the disappearing act he does. It’s scary, because we never know if he’s going to come back and if he does, we’re worried about what kind of condition he’ll be in. And it breaks my mam’s heart every single time. She’s not the same Fiona that she used to be. She’s fragile now, when she used to be so strong.”
My heart is broken for him. For all of them, really, even his dad.
“What about your other brothers? Is that why they don’t live here anymore?”
“Yeah. When I got the pub, they left town. They wanted to be as far away as possible, and I guess I can’t blame them.”
“But that’s not fair to you,” I start.
“It’s fine. At the end of the day, I’m glad they got away. Plus, it’s not fair to them that they can’t live in the greatest city on earth,” he says and winks at me.
“You and that hometown pride thing.”
“I’m just stating the facts, lass.”
That makes us both smile a little bit at each other, but there’s still a lot of sadness in his eyes.
“So, your brothers get to go live their lives? Pursue their ambitions?”
“Right.”
“Well then, I’ve got to ask the question…”
“Shoot.”
“Is this the life you wanted? Running your family’s pub?”
He laughs a little and looks at me with mischievous eyes. “No one’s ever asked me that before. It was just a given, a logical choice.”
“Yeah? So…?”
He laughs again, nervously. “I mean, yeah, I love the pub. I love Cork. I wouldn’t want to leave, either…”
“But…” I say, offering my help when he trails off.
“But I’m not exactly passionat
e about running a pub. I’m not like Dylan.”
“No one’s like Dylan.”
“That’s the truth.”
“So, tell me, what are you passionate about?” I have to ask, and deep down I know the answer. I’ve eaten the answer countless time.
Eoghan’s adorably shy about it. The tips of his ears have turned red and he’s not meeting my eyes. “There are two things I find myself to be passionate about these days.”
“Do tell.”
“Well, I think you know.”
“Tell me anyway,” I ask, not actually revealing that I’ve only got the one pegged.
“Cooking.” Bingo.
“Do you want to be a chef?”
“Yeah, I think so. I’d like to somehow turn the pub into a gastropub, like the one we visited yesterday.”
“I think that is an absolutely brilliant idea,” I tell him, and my mind starts dreaming up all the ways I can help him make that dream a reality.
“I just want to put my spin on the pub, make my mark as a Murrough. And I desperately love to cook.”
“Well, I desperately love to eat your cooking.”
“Liar.”
“I never lie about food. What’s the second thing you’re passionate about?” I ask, genuinely curious.
He bats his eyes a few times. “Come on, I’m certain you know.”
“Enlighten me.”
“Juliana, come on.”
“Eoghan, come on.”
He rolls his eyes and shakes his head a little bit. Then he starts staring at me.
“What?”
He doesn’t say a word, but his gaze remains steady. He doesn’t waver, not even a little bit, and I’ve lost all capability to breathe like a normal human being. His eyes—which have always had a piercing quality—are absolutely digging into me. I know what I want to believe, but I don’t dare. It’s too soon to be feeling this way about each other. At least, that’s what the logical part of my brain says. I gulp and suddenly get so nervous that I have to look away. I only glance down at my hands for a single second and then my eyes snap right back to his, because I can’t resist him. He smiles at that, like I’ve somehow made him very happy. Whatever it is, the spell is broken and we both laugh a little bit.
I change the subject to cool things down. “So, you decided to be like your brothers and run away, at least for today?”
He smirks. “I guess you could say that, but as much as I wanted to put some distance between myself and my family, I also wanted to take you on an adventure. You haven’t had enough of those yet.” He interlaces our fingers and then says with so much heart, “I want to take you everywhere, lass. I want to show you everything.”
God, he gets right to the core of me, like no one else on Planet Earth. “I would like that. Very much.”
“Good,” he says, and melts me with a gorgeous smile.
I can’t even think of what to say next, but it doesn’t really matter because he’s leaning across the tiny table and I’m suddenly meeting him halfway to receive his kiss. His mouth is soft and warm, and he tastes like peppermint from the tea.
“Juliana,” he whispers against my lips.
“Eoghan,” I say right back.
He kisses me one more time and then stands up. “Ready to go exploring?”
“Always.”
Addicts
Eoghan
There’s a tiny beep off in the distance. I think it’s the microwave—yes, that’s definitely it—but I quickly forget about it, because the only thing I care about is perched up on the kitchen counter with her legs spread open for me. Her mouth tastes like warm honey and she’s got me hard as a rock. Breakfast can most definitely wait.
“Is this what roommates do?” she asks between kisses, and I laugh into her lips.
“It’s what we do,” I answer, and then I find her tongue again with mine. I stroke it, long and hard until she moans so good in my mouth that her jaw trembles. Her sounds drive me so wild that I’m unable to help myself and start grinding my crotch against hers.
With the tip of my finger, I quickly slide one of the thin elastic straps of her pajama top over her shoulder and down her arm. It doesn’t take much to pull the rest of her top below her breasts. Her nipples are popped out at full attention. The sight makes me lose my feckin’ mind.
“Jesus, lass,” I mumble before I latch on to one of her stiff nipples.
“Are we doing this?” she asks through heavy breaths as I suck and nibble and lick.
I hum in the affirmative and then make a quick decision to move us to the couch, so I wrap her legs around my waist and carry her over, squeezing her ample ass as we go. I’ve been carrying her a lot the past few days. I can’t deny that I love it.
“I’ve got to get to work,” she says from beneath me, but she’s not altogether convincing, mostly because she’s humping my thigh.
“Call in sick,” I beg.
“I called in sick yesterday.”
“Call in sick again,” I say as I kiss down her body. “We’ll go out today. We’ll go to the Cliffs.”
“I can’t,” she says. “Plus, we won’t get out of bed.”
She’s not wrong. If today is anything like yesterday, we’ll stay tangled like this and won’t leave the flat.
“Is that so bad?” I ask as I peel off the white lacy panties she only put on a half hour ago. I part her thighs gently and gaze at all her lovely bits. She’s glistening and a little bit raw from last night, and the fact that I’m smiling about that makes me think I’m a little bit wicked.
“Of course not, but…”
I dip my head down and press the bridge of my nose into the patch of soft dark hair that lies above her perfect folds. Her scent makes me an utter animal. It’s pure instinct when I put her legs over my shoulders.
She squirms a little beneath me, but then breathes out, “I’ve got to go to work today.”
“Okay, love, just let me do this,” I say, and gently blow a stream of heavy warm air onto her sensitive skin.
“Eoghan.” It’s a request to stop. It’s a demand for more.
“Give me five minutes, just five minutes,” I plead.
She palms her own breasts and tweezes her nipples with her fingers, so I take that as a yes. I growl into her and then close my eyes as I start to lick her with broad stiff strokes of the tongue. Ever since I had her like this after our adventure to the west coast, I’ve been craving it like a madman. I knew I’d get addicted to the taste of her. It’s going to take a special kind of rehab if I ever have to stop. Even then, I don’t think I could ever be cured of her. Not being with Juliana like this would completely crush me.
Her back bends into a sharp arch as I flick her clit with the tip of my tongue. Then I swirl around it while I trace the outline of her opening with my fingertip. She’s whimpering and mumbling a combination of my name and the word please. Dear lord, hearing my name like that fuels my desire and makes my heart sing.
I slip the teasing finger into her as I continue to put pressure on her clit with my mouth, first patting it down with my tongue and then sucking it between my lips and using a little bit of teeth. She convulses and squirms as the pleasure starts to overwhelm her. With my free hand, I yank on my aching cock through the jersey knit fabric of my boxer shorts. I’ve made quite a wet stain where the tip is, up near the waistband. I’ve only got a couple more minutes to make this happen, because no matter what I’ll stick to my word.
I redouble my efforts to make her come, employing the little trick I learned yesterday morning. I run the back of my tongue down the center of her and add a second finger to the mix, reaching for that special spot I’ve discovered. It takes no time at all before she shouts a few beautiful curse words and comes hard, spiraling away beneath me. Once she can take no more, she slowly releases her grip on my hair and starts caressing my face as I kiss from the inside of her thighs up toward her pelvic bone and her belly button.
“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever
known,” I whisper, strained from my own arousal.
She sighs contentedly as she settles down and cups my face in her hands. She brings me up to her mouth and opens for me. Our kissing is slippery and wet and laced with the taste of her. I feel like I might explode on the spot, but time is up. I sit back on my knees, so sad to leave her.
“What are you doing?” she whines.
“It’s time for you to get ready for work.”
“What about you?” she says, and reaches out for my erection.
I pull away, knowing that her touch would make me keep her here all damn day. “I’ll be fine,” I lie.
“Eoghan,” she says so melodramatically.
“I promise, lass. Come on, let’s get you in the shower.” I pull her up onto her feet and turn her in the direction of the jacks. She puts one foot in front of the other, albeit a little bit wobbly as she does.
She looks over her shoulder and asks, “Join me?”
I groan loudly. The thought is agonizing and wonderful at the same time.
She tries to sell it, “I’ll return the favor while you wash my hair.”
Sold. How can I say no to that?
The pub is packed for lunch, which is great. Thankfully, I was able to put together a sandwich board, seafood chowder, and a barbecue pulled chicken bap just in time, cutting it quite close to lunchtime. Dylan’s been giving me the side eye all morning about being tardy. I suppose I didn’t have to drive Juliana to work, but I wanted to squeeze in every possible minute with her that I could get. I suppose I could have skipped out on the shower, too, but what man in his right mind would do that? That was the best shower of my life.
As the lunch rush thins out and the regulars settle in for an afternoon of pints and gab, I finally take a break in the office and lean back in my grandda’s old chair with my feet propped up on the desk. I haven’t slept much since November started, so I’m totally fried, but in the best of ways. Being with Juliana has been worth it.
Dylan comes around my doorway. He’s stuffing his face with the chicken bap.
Pull At My Heart Page 24
