Irish Fling

by Valerie Douglas

  Already her heart was pounding at the thought.

  “Then we’ll plan for that,” Aidan said. “First, though, lodging. Let’s find a pleasant place for the night.”

  “All right,” she said, as he called for the check.

  Chapter Four

  It was really a very lovely room, all done in greens and golds, which suited her coloring, and a bow window that looked out over the hills that stretched out away from it. As with many of the bed and breakfasts Ali had seen here, the rooms were actually separate from the main house. Some had been converted from a large garage or perhaps they’d been built that way simply to allow everyone some privacy. This one consisted of only two rooms, hers and Aidan’s.

  He was unpacking.

  As phones rang hundreds of miles away, she paced nervously, her wireless headset plugged into her ear.

  She heard a squeal of excitement on the other end. “Ali!”

  That voice was distinctive, well-known and well loved.

  Picturing her friend Molly on the other end, her curly red hair bouncing, Ali smiled. “Hey, Molly!”

  “How’s it going?” Molly asked.

  “Hey, Ali,” another voice said, laconically. Jesse. In the background Ali could hear the sound of a welding torch being switched off. “How’s Ireland?”

  “More beautiful than you’d believe,” Ali said, honestly.

  The view out the window as darkness fell was truly incredible, the sky brilliantly blue with the last light of the sun. In some places they called it the gloaming, the moments between when the sun set but light still touched the deep blue sky. Venus appeared in the west, a small point of light.

  “Have I missed anything?” Cam asked, coming into the conversation.

  “Nope,” Jesse answered, “she was just getting started.”

  “And I don’t have much time,” Ali said as a curl of excitement unfurled in her belly.

  It must have been evident in her voice too, because Molly asked, excitedly, “Really? Why?”

  “I met someone.”

  “Damn, girl, that’s fast,” Jesse said, “faster than me even.”

  “Maybe I’m taking a page out of your book, Jess,” Ali said, smiling. “I got lost.”

  “Surprise,” Jesse said, dryly.

  They all laughed, knowing Ali’s sense of direction. She smiled and some of her tension fell away as she listened to their voices. Her family.

  “A car was broken down on the side of the road so I offered the driver a lift.”

  “That’s our Ali,” Cam said, fondly.

  Ali grinned. “It didn’t hurt that he’s hot.”

  “How hot?” Molly demanded.

  Thinking of Aidan, Ali smiled. The pause was all the answer they needed.

  “Very,” Jesse said.

  “He’s got cheekbones like you wouldn’t believe. Tall, gorgeous…and that mouth.”

  Ali tried to smother the giggle but failed.

  “He kissed me,” she said and felt the blush rise.

  “How was it?” Molly asked, her tone avid.

  “It turned me into a puddle,” Ali answered. “The man can kiss.”

  “Then what the hell are you doing talking to us?” Jesse demanded.

  “Waiting,” she said. “He’s coming over from his room to talk about where we’re going next. After I gave him the lift he volunteered to play tour guide since his car was broken down and his holiday was likely to be over.”

  All she waited for was the knock at the door.

  “What’s he like?” Cam asked.

  “Intense, intelligent, gorgeous,” Ali said. “He’s been a perfect gentleman.”

  “Except for the kiss,” Jesse teased.

  Ali could almost hear the grin in her voice.

  “Even then,” Ali said, smiling in return.

  “Good,” Cam said, “I’m glad. You deserve to have some fun, Ali.”

  No one said the rest but the love and concern were there and it warmed Ali’s heart.

  When the knock came, she nearly jumped a foot in anticipation.

  “Gotta go,” she said. “Love you, all of you.”

  A chorus of “love you’s” in return whispered from the headset just before she turned it off and dropped it on the bedside table.

  Deliberately, she forced herself to relax as she walked to the door to open it.

  Smiling, Aidan leaned a shoulder against the doorframe, his head cocked a little.

  Her heart jumped at the look in his eyes.

  She smiled.

  “Hi,’ she said, leaning against the jamb, too, happy just to look at him.

  Damn but he was beautiful.

  Lifting his chin a little, he said, “Look what I found it in my luggage. Think you could help me with it?”

  He held up a bottle of good red wine.

  Smothering a smile, she said, “Oh, I don’t know, Aidan, I don’t know that I have anything to go with it.”

  His laugh caught even him by surprise.

  “Oh, I do,” he said.

  It took only that for him, seeing those molten gold eyes go darker, the high color in her face, her breath a little fast, as was his…

  Sliding his hand up into her hair, taking her back a step or two to let the door close behind them he lowered his mouth to hers and ate her up, just devoured her. God, he was so hungry for her. A soft moan answered him as her hands came up to clasp his wrist, slid up his arms to curl around his neck. That sound went through him like a shot of pure desire.

  Aidan crushed his mouth over hers as she clung to him. Her tongue danced around his, tasted, tangled, as another soft sound escaped her. His hand slid down her slender throat, his mouth ravaged hers as he pulled her against him with the hand that held the wine bottle. She went liquid, fluid, her body molded against his as he pressed every inch of her against him.

  She was more potent than the wine, warming him down to his bones. He hadn’t realized he’d been so cold.

  With an effort he stood back a little.

  Those incredible eyes sparkled at him as she smiled.

  “Amazing,” he said.

  “I’ll get the glasses,” Ali said, her heart pounding, every sense in her body alive.

  Surprisingly, there were real glasses so they wouldn’t have to drink good wine out of plastic. She carried them back to him as he pulled the cork with the corkscrew he’d brought with him and poured them each a glass.

  For all the amenities of the room, though, there hadn’t been much space to spread out the maps, except on the bed.

  Ali scrambled to the center of it to make room for Aidan to sit.

  She sat cross-legged in the center of the bed like a pixie, tucking her skirt about her and patted the bed beside her.

  Oh, dear Lord, save me from temptation, Aidan thought, and smiled. Or not.

  Those incredible eyes sparkled at him as she glanced at him sideways and smiled.

  It was like resisting gravity. He sat beside her, glasses of wine in his hand. He handed her one. Taking a sip, she swirled it around in her mouth and swallowed with evident pleasure.

  What would it be like to make love to her with her mercurial moods? he wondered, and took a sip of his own wine. His head spun but from which he couldn’t say.

  “So, where next, my lady?” he asked, giving her a little bow. “Your wish is my command.”

  Ali laughed, arching a brow. “Are you sure you want to ask that?”

  Giving her a look, he said, “Be careful, my girl, I could take you up on that.”

  She gave him a flirtatious look, her eyes lighting up but then she leaned on one arm to look at the map.

  Those eyes were going to be the death of him yet.

  “So,” he said, “which way? North, west, south…

  With a sigh, Ali looked at all the possibilities.

  “West, I think,” she said. “And then south.”

  She only had two weeks and then she would be otherwise occupied. If things went well, she could
turn north afterward. “For now, west…to County Clare, the coast and the Burren.”

  “The Burren?” he said, curiously. “However did you hear about the Burren?”

  “Ah, not enough trees to hang a man, nor water enough to drown him,” she quoted. “And should you manage to kill him, not enough dirt to bury him.”

  He laughed. “I’d forgotten that.”

  “With a quote like that, wouldn’t you have to see it?” she asked, smiling.

  “You would, undeniably,” he agreed.

  That laugh just bubbled out of her, contagious, happy. Had he ever known anyone who laughed so much?

  She looked over her shoulder at him, her eyes sparkling.

  “To Kinvara, maybe swing by to look at the castle, then the coast…?”

  It would be a marvelous drive once they got there, he knew some back roads…already considering routes in his head.

  Some of his folk would consider it a long drive but Aidan had been to America a few times, and driven from Philadelphia to New York in less than a day. From where they were to the Burren was hardly as much.

  “Lunch in a seaside restaurant?”

  Her smile was brilliant.

  Aidan leaned to look at the map, bracing himself on an arm behind her. “Maybe here in Ballyvaughn?”

  He was so close. Ali looked at him. His mouth was right there… She tingled.

  Aidan turned his head… She was so close, so appealing… What man could resist such temptation? Not him. Sliding his hand into her hair, he drew her mouth to his. He drank her in, tasting the wine on her lips, her tongue, as he sank into the kiss with a sigh.

  A sigh that was echoed by her as her breath caught in her throat.

  She was so sweet.

  Aidan pulled back long enough to take her glass away from her, setting it beside his on the table beside the bed before he turned back to bury his hand in that incredible hair and then his mouth was on hers once again.

  They sank down onto the bed, his hand in her hair, the other curled around her to press her against his.

  He was achingly aware of every inch of her body where it touched his as she both strained and melted against him, her body pliant beneath his. Her mouth was avid on his, hot. Her tongue tangled with his. He slid his hand down her back…down, to cup her bottom, press her to the hardness of him.

  He groaned, one hand going back to her hair to turn her head aside so he could taste the long column of her throat, his mouth drifting to the corner of her jaw. He nibbled at the lobe of her ear and heard her gasp, her heartbeat hammered against his lips.

  Ali gasped, nearly delirious, flooded with desire and need. Heat beat through her as his mouth burrowed at the curve of her shoulder and his tongue swirled across her skin. His mouth was like fire, sending sparks flying beneath her skin...and she craved the flames.

  She clung to him, gasping.

  The need to touch her hot satiny skin drove Aidan’s hands beneath her sweater again and he sighed as his hand closed around the sweet curve of her waist. Skin. Ali. More. He skimmed his hand up the curve of her ribs until his thumb just brushed the bottom of her breast. She trembled. The need to touch more was blinding, maddening.

  Raising his head, he looked down into Ali’s eyes, saw the gold in them darken.

  Aidan reached for the bottom of her sweater, held it.

  Without a word she arched upward and he drew the sweater over her head, that glorious hair spilling everywhere.

  His breath caught.

  For a moment, only a moment, but a moment was enough, she was revealed to him, wearing only the tiniest scrap of a lacy bra over high, full breasts. Nothing like Devon’s tiny apples, she’d been built like a boy. Ali’s breasts were ripe, full, they were beautiful, breasts a man could fill his hands with, and he did. His thumbs brushed over the lace, looking at her in wonder as he felt the hardness of her nipples beneath them in amazement, as she quivered.

  “God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered reverently, taking in the rest of her.

  Her body was incredible, lovely, her belly toned, her hips curved. Her skin was like aged ivory, faintly golden like her eyes and her hair. A golden girl…fey and glorious.

  Ali shifted against him, in need, in want. She was barely aware of the cooler air on her hot skin, she simply wanted more, she wanted him to keep touching her. She looked at him from beneath heavy lashes, her body heated, aching.

  In wonder Aidan lifted his gaze to meet hers. The look in them was all he needed. Then he caught her up, his mouth claimed hers again, devouring. His hands were busy at the clasp of her bra. The thin scrap of lace fell away and then her breasts were free. Dear God. Curling one arm around her shoulders, he skimmed the hand of the other along her throat, down to cup one perfect breast. He took the weight of it in his hand, aware of the satiny smoothness of her skin. Wonderful. Astonishing. He brushed a thumb across her nipple, felt it tighten even as he caught her intake of breath in his mouth.

  Ali’s hands dove beneath his sweater, stroked around the curve of his ribs and up the long strong hard muscles of his back. His hips ground against hers. She was all too aware of the ridge beneath them. Desperately, she tugged at his sweater, needing to feel him, to see him.

  As desperately as she needed to touch, Aidan needed to be touched. He raised himself up, braced on one arm then the other to let her drag the sweater off him. The maps scattered, drifted to the floor, as he helped her.

  For a moment Ali froze as she looked at him, at the broad, hard muscles of his chest, at the taut muscles of his abs.

  Nearly reverently, she looked at him and on a sigh said, “Oh, my, look what you’ve been hiding…”

  Her gaze lifted to meet Aidan’s in amazement as her hands floated over him. She skimmed her hands over his chest, down over his ribs again in sheer wonder.

  That look heated him, fired him. So the hours in the gym hadn’t been completely wasted.

  Her fingers spanning his chest nearly undid him and then his mouth was on hers, one of her hands was buried in his hair while the other slid up his back as her hips moved against his.

  He wanted more and her body as it moved beneath his told him she did as well.

  So lovely, her bare breasts against him, the slender length of her body pressed against him. He curled his hand around her breast and a breath escaped him at the feel of it. His thumb brushed over one tightening nipple. He loved the feel of that.

  Even as he drove his tongue deep into her mouth, swept it around hers and her breath sobbed in her throat, he trapped that nipple between finger and thumb and pinched it lightly.

  She gasped, her body flexing beneath him as her breast swelled to fill his hand.

  Aidan knew he was going mad, he’d never met a girl as responsive as this.

  Oh, dear God, was all Ali could think. She was on fire, her senses overwhelmed. The taste of him filled her, the press of his mouth on hers, his fingers on her nipple.

  She could have wept with need, with desire. Her breath caught in her throat, wanting to ask for more. An ache built between her already damp thighs as pleasure pooled deep in her belly, coiled there.

  A sound that was nearly of sob of pleasure escaped.

  Gently, Aidan tugged on that tender nub, rolled it between his finger and thumb as she arched to ask for more, harder. Cupping her breast, he squeezed as it swelled against his hand. She trembled as he wrenched his mouth away from hers, cupped that perfect breast in his hand and held it up as an offering to himself, and to her. He closed his mouth over the hardness of her and did his level best to fill his mouth with it, drawing on her, suckling hard.

  The cry of sheer pleasure that tore out of her was gratifying, and enflaming.

  He wanted more of that. Would have more of it…of her. But she tasted so good…he rolled her hardened nipple over his tongue, nipped it, scraped his teeth over it, as she cried out, her body trembling. Her hips pumped.

  So sweet, so intoxicating, he burned for more of her.

&nb
sp; Ali needed…she ached sweetly. She loved his touch, his mouth was hot, each motion sent heat rushing through her.

  “Please,” she breathed, unaware she’d said, it aloud.

  Oh, yes, Aidan thought, his hand sliding over her skirt, gathering it until his fingers found the smooth skin beneath.

  A breath escaped him as his hands skimmed over her firmly muscled thigh, massaged it.

  Impatient, nearly desperate, Ali arched, needing his touch.

  Aidan slid his hand up her thigh, control nearly falling away as he felt warm, damp lace…

  Incredible.

  The band of the skirt was in the way but there was a button, a single button. He released it, and thrust the skirt away.

  Thank God, he thought, before his hands slipped down over lace, over a curved, tight bottom, drawing her against his aching hardness, and then all he thought was Oh, my God.

  Perfect, his hand cupped her perfectly, pressed her against the rigid length beneath his slacks.

  He slid his hand over one curved hip, over the smooth skin, slipped the lace down over it. Down, his fingers sliding between her thighs. She jumped, twitched. Her hips lifted to his touch as his fingers sifted between those golden curls. Sliding his hand over to the other hip, he drew the lace away as she lifted her hips to let him. There was nothing between them now but his own clothing. He pulled her against his hardness, pressed it into her hip.

  It had been so long, Ali craved, needed to be touched…

  His hand slipped between her thighs and she cried out on a half sob of pleasure as he touched delicate, aching flesh.

  All Ali could feel was his touch, all she knew was the heat that moved through her, the need. She was speechless, nearly mindless.

  Aidan had never met a woman like this, each soft sob, each moan drove him on.

  He suckled hard at her breast, drew on it, bit, each motion elicited a tremble, quiver or moan.

  Slipping his fingers down through those tight curls, to find heat. She was so wet. He dipped a finger into her as a soft cry burst from her, and found her tight, so tight. He ached, as hard as iron against his zipper.

  Not yet. There was time. But when the time came? He was going to enjoy it. Thoroughly.

  Dampened fingers slid up.