Irish Fling

by Valerie Douglas

  They traveled down a back country lane and turned now into a drive.

  Ali looked around. “Where are we?”

  “This is my home,” Aidan said, as the headlights swept across the house. “I have an apartment in Dublin but this is home.”

  He’d never brought another woman here, not one. Not even Devon. It wasn’t her kind of place.

  The headlights illuminated a classic Irish cottage, as if it came straight from a fairy tale. The roof was even thatched.

  Whitewashed stone walls contrasted with a front door painted a green as deep and glossy as a philodendron leaf. Wooden window boxes were full of spring flowers, bright cotton candy pink tulips and grape hyacinth at each narrow window. A gravel drive circled around a small grass door yard, with a branch of the drive curving behind the house to a barn hidden back among the trees.

  Ali just looked at Aidan as he brought the car to a halt.

  Coming around the car, Aidan offered her a hand out, smiling, reaching into the back for their bags.

  Chapter Nine

  Aidan swung the door open, his hand on the small of her back sending her a little ahead of him. The doorway was original so Aidan had to stoop a little to follow her, as he hadn’t wanted to change it even to accommodate his height. Doorways then hadn’t been made for a man his size.

  “Oh, it’s charming,” Ali said, delighted, looking around and that was all the satisfaction he needed.

  The main room was small and cozy, whitewashed inside as well. Broad wood beams crossed the width of the room. To one side was a large stone fireplace. Smoke had darkened the interior, it was now filled with a dried floral arrangement. A comfortable old leather chair sat in one corner near the fireplace, a small sofa stood against the far wall while an old table had been set beneath one of the leaded glass windows. Two wingback chairs had been placed before the fire. A hand hooked rug lay on the floor. Lace curtains framed the windows.

  It wasn’t big, yet it didn’t seem crowded even with the furniture.

  “Come on, we’ll do the tour proper,” Aidan said.

  With his hand at the small of his back, Aidan guided her into the kitchen.

  Here, too, it was small and homey, with an old Aga stove set against one wall, a scarred kitchen table and four chairs set in the center of the room. An old metal coffee pot was filled with the pink candy-colored tulips ― Caireann’s doing, no doubt. An old linen tablecloth laid cattycornered across the table beneath the coffee pot.

  “I’ve only read of these in books,” Ali said, brushing her hand across the stove.

  “It’s the only thing that isn’t original,” Aidan said, “Cottages like these relied on wood or coal stoves for heat, the Aga does both. I hadn’t wanted to put in electric heaters but it can be quite chilly in the mornings.”

  “Define chilly,” Ali said with a laugh, “One of my foster parents used to make me sleep in the attic. I would wake up and see my own breath.”

  The thought wrenched him but Ali as usual was blithely undisturbed. It amazed him.

  “Not that cold,” he said, “by any means.”

  Those gilded eyes flashed his way, her eyes sparkling and she smiled.

  “Let’s show you the rest,” Aidan said.

  It had a small but functional bath with an old iron footed tub ringed with a shower curtain. Aidan had added a shower attachment.

  It boasted only two bedrooms but there was little need for more. The largest, such as it was, was clearly Aidan’s.

  A rag rug covered the simple wood floor. The only furniture in the room was an old iron bedstead with a handmade spread over it, a single small table with a lamp on it and a plain wooden dresser. Lace curtains covered these windows, too.

  Aidan wrapped his arms around her waist, rested his cheek against her curls. “Do you like it?”

  “I love it, Aidan,” she said. “It’s simple and beautiful.”

  Exactly what he’d been aiming for.

  He pulled her tighter against him, slipped his hands beneath her sweater to feel her skin as he brushed his lips over her ear.

  A thrill whispered through her. Ali smiled as he drew her hair away from her throat to press his lips there, a sigh whispering out of her as he did it.

  For a moment Aidan simply savored her, the taste and scent of her, his hands around her slender waist to hold her close, listening to her sigh, feeling the throb of her heartbeat quicken beneath his mouth.

  Ali curled one arm back over his neck, rested the other on his hand at her waist.

  Taking the hem of her sweater in his hands Aidan drew it up over her head, one arm going around her waist again to draw her against him. With his mouth against the curve of her jaw, he slid his hands over her warm satiny skin, enjoying the feel of it. Releasing the catch of her bra, he let it fall, filling one hand with her breast, the other curled around her waist to keep her against him.

  “Ali,” he said, relishing the weight of that breast in his hand, his mouth still buried against her throat, moving down to her shoulder as he fondled her, heat moving through him.

  Blissfully, Ali just sank into the feel of his mouth on her throat and the warmth of his hand on her breast. A rush of electric heat washed through her when his lips reached the curve of her shoulder.

  Releasing the button on her skirt, he let it whisper to the floor, baring her to him. He sighed as he slid his free hand over her belly to play a little with her navel then down to skim to the lace of her panties and over them.

  Another rush of anticipation and pleasure made her shiver as his hand slipped between her thighs.

  Aidan felt her melt against him and smiled. He dipped a finger beneath the dampening lace, ran it lightly between the delicate folds there to feel her quiver and hear her gasp. So lovely. He slid the finger inside her to feel that delicious heat around it, the damp tightness, and felt her muscles clench as she shivered.

  He smiled and stroked gently while his other hand played with her nipple. She trembled in his arms, surrendering to him again. He loved this.

  Curling his thumbs into the waistband of the lace of her panties, he stripped them away as well, leaving her bare to his touch. Free now, he slid a hand between her thighs, his fingers sliding deeply inside her. Her head fell back against his shoulder as color rose beneath her golden skin and she tightened.

  So sweet.

  He brushed a kiss across her cheek.

  Rush after rush of pleasure filled her, held safe in Aidan’s arms, his lips warm as another burst of pleasure rushed through her.

  Aidan slid an arm behind her unsteady legs and lifted her to carry her to the bed, setting her feet on the floor there.

  Turning to look at him, her eyes glowing, a soft smile on her face, her hands closed on the hem of his sweater.

  Obediently, he stripped the sweater off for her, smiling.

  With a sigh of satisfaction, heat still rushing through her, Ali just smiled back at him, admiring the beauty of him, her hands skimming around his waist to draw him closer so she could press her mouth against his chest

  She tasted his skin, absorbed in that, in the feel of the long, strong muscles of his back beneath her hands. She could his hardness pressed against her and she skimmed her hands down to draw his hips more tightly against her.

  Aidan closed his arms around her, lost in the sensation of her warm lips on his skin, her hands on him.

  His own hands drifted down to cup her bottom, to draw her against him, every cell of his body hot, aching.

  Then she slipped a hand between them, to unfasten his slacks. Together they stripped them away and Aidan took the opportunity to take one pretty breast into his mouth.

  Devouring her mouth, he caught each cry, each gasp, one hand curled around her breast, the other between her thighs, playing with the delicate nub there.

  Ali jolted as he slipped a hand between her thighs as well, cupping her.

  She closed her hand over him in return, played with the tip, her thumb stroking over the se
nsitive end so he groaned.

  Once more he swept her up in his arms to lower her to the bed, sliding in beside her, her back against him, one arm curled beneath her neck, the other free. He slid his cock between her thighs, the slightly damp friction wonderful.

  She turned her head to look at him. He smiled before he took her mouth again as he caressed her breasts, tormented her nipples gently then slid his hand between her thighs to touch, tease and play. As her body trembled, shifted, she teased him in turn, her hips pumping, each motion stroking him between her thighs.

  Ali was molten, drowning in the heat building within her, in the sense of Aidan’s body behind her, in the glorious feel of his hands on her.

  Sweet tension filled her, sight was lost, everything vanished before the glorious heat that expanded within her. Her muscles twitched with each touch of his fingers. He drove her higher, higher, and then he was inside her, filling her, swelling within her. Brilliance flashed as she erupted, her body shuddering as her pleasure took her.

  Aidan held her close to him as she tightened around him, a cry spiraling out of her. The sweet muscles inside her stroked him, tightened. It felt as if he erupted into her, his own pleasure rushing through him, his body bucking, going rigid with the need to fill her completely. He did, aware of every inch of her, her body against his, her body around his, taking him in…

  Curled that way, he wrapped his arms around her to hold her close, her arms echoing his.

  He brushed his mouth over her ear, shifted them both to be sure they were comfortable, and then they chased each other down into sleep.

  Chapter Ten

  Aidan watched Ali at the stove in amazement. He’d stoked it but she was the one cooking, wearing only his shirt and if that wasn’t the sexiest thing he’d ever seen…

  Looking over her shoulder and laughing at his expression, Ali said, “It’s not that hard, Aidan, and I’m not even the cook of the bunch.”

  “It is for me,” he said, “I’d have burned those eggs by now.”

  “If this amazes you, you should see Cam in the kitchen,” she said.

  Her obvious love for her friend came through in her voice, in her smile as she spoke of her.

  “Cam studied psychology,” Ali said, “so as a relief to that, she took cooking classes. She’s amazing. Now that she’s back we all get together every Saturday morning to have breakfast. In spring, summer and fall there’s a farmer’s market in town and she picks up the ingredients, all fresh-picked that morning and that’s breakfast.”

  She turned the omelet neatly out onto plates and divided it between them, adding slices of toast.

  Aidan bit in and his eyes nearly rolled with pleasure. “This’ll do for me.”

  Laughing, she savored a bite herself, grinned and nodded. “It’s one of my better efforts.”

  “So, what do you say to a day of hiking,” he said as they put up the dishes. “Do you have shoes for it?”

  They couldn’t hike too long if they had to buy her new shoes.

  With a shake of her head, she said, “I have shoes.”

  She reached into that small bag and drew out a pair of trainers as he just shook his head, peering inside.

  “How do you do that?” he asked, amazed. “Get so much into one bag? Most women have to take several.”

  “I learned how to pack light, with the right things. There’s something for every occasion in there,” she said, “and I can always buy what I need.”

  “Personally,” he said, catching her up in his arms. “I think its magic and you’re a fairy sent to enchant me. You’re about the size for it and then there are those eyes. Caireann was right about that.”

  Ali looked up at him and laughed.

  “And look who’s talking,” she said, skimming her hands through his thick dark hair, looking up at him. “The man who has eyes as blue as the sky and a smile that breaks my heart every time I see it.”

  He grinned and gave her a kiss and then a swat on the bottom. “If we keep this up, we’ll never get out of here.”

  They hiked up into Na Cruacha Dubha, the Macgillycuddy Reeks. He wasn’t surprised she kept up with him, despite his longer legs. Aidan wasn’t for taking her up Carrauntoohil, they were looking only for a nice day hike. It was a pleasure to walk instead of riding in the car.

  Ali was amazed, first that Ireland had such mountains, then that the view was so spectacular. It seemed that every turn gave her something new.

  Finding a good place off the trail but not too far off, with a marvelous expanse of valley below them, Aidan spread out the blanket, smiling at the wonder on her face. They ate with her sitting between his legs, looking out over the vista laid out before them, it was a little awkward but it didn’t matter much.

  He hadn’t been up this way since he and Kevin had been boys. Contented, he curled Ali into his arms. Her head fell back onto his shoulder. At this time of year it was too cool to stay in one place long but for the moment, it was just fine.

  They had dinner with Kevin and Caireann that night. Just a simple dinner, something he hadn’t done in how long…? Too long for certain.

  Ali had his godson, Rory, in her lap, goggling down at him to make him laugh, his chubby little fist locked of her hair, laughing, as they ate. She was laughing, too. But that was Ali.

  They talked as Aidan hadn’t talked with Kevin and Caireann in years, Ali’s bright eyes and laughter punctuating everything.

  Rory clearly adored her, as did Caitlin, her little face a blend of her mother and her father, with Kevin’s reddish hair and Caireann’s fine features. At all of five, she was a bundle of energy, demanding that Ali dance with her, everyone dance with her.

  Suddenly Aidan knew this was what he had been missing, not just the people but the home, a family…this, these moments…

  Obedient to childish demands, Ali danced, looking down at the little girl, laughing.

  For a moment tears threatened as she looked down at a child who would have been about her own age when her own mother had taken ill. Fighting back a sudden sharp stinging in her eyes, she still laughed.

  Suddenly aware she was missing her programme on TV, Caitlin grinned and raced into the other room.

  For a moment, Ali pushed back emotions, her fingers brushing her mouth.

  “Ali,” Caireann said, in sympathy.

  Waving it away, Ali said, “I was Caitlin’s age when my mother took sick…”

  Tears, horrifyingly, stung her eyes.

  Brushing them away impatiently, she said, smiling, “We used to dance the same way. But she always told me to live today for today, live it like there will be no tomorrow. Try to have more regrets for the things I haven’t done than the things I have. Waste as little time as possible on what can’t be and find something in every day that makes you happy. I think it helped that she was such an optimist. So am I for that matter.”

  Caireann said, “She was a very wise woman, your mother.”

  The moment was forgotten as they talked and argued late into the night, laughing, joking, both Kevin and Aidan both telling tales out of school. To their laughter Ali told a tale of finding herself sharing her bed with a very large squirrel, a tale that involved dogs giving chase and much swearing, and that had all of them holding their sides.

  “It’s true,” she insisted, her gilded eyes wide and sparkling.

  Ali loved to see Aidan smile, it seemed something he hadn’t done much of lately.

  Aidan hadn’t had such a great evening in an age…or two. He’d missed spending evenings like this.

  If there was any cloud over the evening, it was the sure knowledge that his time with her was growing short ― his holiday was nearly over. Looking at Ali laughing, his heart lifted. She fit so well here with his friends. Would she fit so well in the rest of his life, though? That was the question. And she was going home to the States.

  The desire to make the most of this last bit of time together was fierce within him. He didn’t want to give her up but he must. Un
til then he would hold onto every moment.

  It was late when they left but he couldn’t be sorry about it.

  They were awake early the next morning all the same, Aidan curled around Ali contentedly, simply enjoying her presence. Every now and then she’d press a soft kiss to his chest, and something warm moved through him every time she did it.

  Both of them stumbled into the shower, talking about the previous evening, laughter giving way to passion as soap provided lubricant. Her eyes glinted mischievously as she slipped her hands over him and Aidan lost his mind for a time.

  There was something different about Ali’s gasps of wonder as they drove around the Ring of Kerry, her hand suddenly reaching out to grab his arm even as he anticipated it.

  In wonder, Ali could only stare. Every turn was an incredible new vista, gorgeous, incredible. There just weren’t words enough to describe it.

  “Aidan, oh, it’s so beautiful,” she exclaimed.

  He pulled the car over, smiling as she bolted from the car to stare out over the incredible scene below her.

  There were times when it was simply an incredible vista of a cliff overlooking a village, the houses tiny, the sea in the distance impossibly blue, small waves washing against the shore. Another time, it was an island, green, or a harbor below filled with boats.

  It was incredible.

  Ali looked up to Aidan, his arms around her as she looked over the cliffs.

  “You grew up with this?” she asked.

  “Not quite,” Aidan laughed. “You saw where I came from.”

  Ali looked at him.

  ”I live two hours from the Jersey shore,” she said. “This is different…”

  “How?” he asked, looking down into her face.

  Making a face, she said with amusement, “Our surf sometimes contains hypodermic needles. And it’s flat.”

  That face made him laugh and cringe at the same time. “That’s different.”

  Laughing, she said, “It definitely is.”