Friday I'm In Love (Wild Irish, #5)

by Mari Carr

  Ewan shook his head. “That’s not good. You know that’s not good, right?”

  “Come on.” Aaron pointed toward the dance floor. “You better go stake your claim. A woman as pretty as Natalie won’t be alone for three seconds out on that dance floor before the wolves descend.”

  Even as Aaron spoke the words, Ewan could see two men moving closer, attempting to bump and grind their way into Riley and Natalie’s dance space.

  He pushed his way through the throng of dancers, taking Natalie’s hand and pulling her away from the man whose hand had somehow managed to snake its way under the hem of her shirt, creeping ever steadily north. He narrowed his eyes when the man looked ready to protest that he’d robbed him of his new toy.

  “Fuck off,” Ewan mouthed. The man took his measure and then raised his hands in surrender, turning to thrust his hips against the woman behind him. Jesus. This place was meat market central. He was starting to wonder how he could get all of them out in one piece. The dimly lit dance floor was packed with sweaty, gyrating bodies all moving in time to the powerful bass thumping through the speakers only a few feet away from him. How much hearing loss was he going to suffer for this night?

  Aaron quickly claimed Riley, pulling her farther into the horde. Natalie moved closer and Ewan saw she was relieved by his presence. He didn’t bother to speak. No matter how loudly he yelled, the sound would only be consumed by the earsplitting music. He pulled her toward him, letting the music dictate his movements. The two of them swayed in time and he tried to calm his body’s reaction when her hands wrapped around his waist, her hips lightly rasping his cock every few seconds.

  Natalie seemed enraptured, lost in the music and the moment, and he fought back a groan when she turned around, pressing her ass against his dick and rubbing seductively in time to the beat.

  “Fuck,” he muttered, aware she couldn’t hear his curse. There was no way she wouldn’t be able to feel his hard-on through his jeans. Of course, given the amount of alcohol she’d consumed, he wondered if she minded. Her inhibitions were low, her resistance shot down by the tequila.

  If he were a gentleman, he’d take her back to the table. Hell, he’d take her back to the apartment and tuck her into bed…alone. Instead, he grasped her waist and pulled her more firmly against him.

  He wasn’t a gentleman—and she felt too damn good.

  Her hands drifted back, rubbing sensuously along his upper thighs, and he wrapped her tighter in his grip, letting his hands explore the tiny exposed bit of skin beneath her shirt, the same skin he’d just deprived the other guy of.

  They continued to let the music take them away and Ewan felt for a moment as if he was having an out-of-body experience. The loud, thumping music matched the pulsating, relentless pumping of blood through his body. Natalie’s hands as they caressed him seemed to leave a trail of fire wherever they touched, singeing him and driving him to heights he’d never imagined. She turned slowly in his arms and he felt as if her movements were in slow motion as the flashing, colored lights set the scene around them…the other dancers hazy, unreal. It was as if they were the only two people adrift in a sea of sound, touch, heat, light.

  Natalie moved closer and he marveled that she could manage such a feat. He would have sworn they were already linked at every pleasurable point. Her stomach pressed against his cock while her hands traveled to his shoulders. He leaned down until their faces were connected—her soft cheek against his rough one, her hot breath tickling his ear. He turned slightly to kiss her flushed face—and she turned at the same time.

  Their lips met.

  He hadn’t intended to kiss her, but Natalie affected him like season tickets to the Ravens affected his pop. He was helpless to resist.

  Guided by the pure animal instincts she instilled within him, Ewan kissed her, their tongues tangling, and he tasted the same bitter tang of tequila that laced his own mouth. He moved his hands from her waist to her ass, pulling her ever closer, grinding against her swaying hips, and he felt her sigh against his lips.

  Her fingers gripped his hair, tightening, holding his face to hers, their lips locked together. He could stay frozen in this moment and never leave, loving her soft sighs, her sensuous motions, her tantalizing touches. She was sex in heels and he wanted to eat her alive, soak up every glimmer of the beautiful radiance that shone from her face.

  The moment was quickly ruined when a drunk girl fell down next to them, her drink splashing against their legs. While he barely felt it through his jeans, he saw Natalie shiver with the sudden cold drenching.

  “Fuck,” she mouthed as her eyes darted around the bar, panic written on her face. “Outside.”

  She went pale and he understood her distress, moving quickly to pull her off the dance floor and making a beeline for the first door he saw. They ended up in a back alley and Natalie quickly dashed to a Dumpster, bending over and gasping for air. He knew she was trying to stave off sickness.

  “Might be better if you just let it out.”

  “Oh God, hate getting sick. Can’t get sick. Can’t get sick,” she muttered, sucking in deep breaths, her words sounding like a mantra.

  Dammit. She was drunk and he’d been an asshole, mauling her on the dance floor.

  “Natalie.” He took a step closer, but she waved him away.

  “Please go away. I don’t want you to see me like this.”

  He looked around. They were in a deserted alley behind a nightclub in the middle of the night. He wasn’t going anywhere. Her pride be damned.

  Trying to set her at ease, he stepped beside her. “I’m one of seven kids, Nat. Flu bugs were deadly when they hit our house. Little vomit’s not gonna bother me.”

  She expelled a long breath and straightened up, leaning against the wall of the club. “I think I’m okay now. It was just the heat in there. It sort of got to me.”

  Sure, it was the heat. Had nothing to do with the tequila shots. He grinned and she scowled.

  “How did I let you talk me into this? I’m too old for this shit.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  Aaron appeared at the door. “Everything okay out here? I saw you guys leave, thought I’d better check on you.”

  “Natalie got a little overheated. Actually, I think maybe we should take off.”

  Aaron looked over his shoulder, back at the dance floor, and Ewan could read the concern on his face.

  “I know Riley’s not ready to leave. Why don’t you stay with her and we’ll catch a cab back to the pub?” Ewan suggested.

  Aaron was obviously relieved. “Riley’d pitch a fit if we left now. It’s still early.”

  Ewan rolled his eyes. Aaron really had spent too long with his sister if he thought two thirty was early. “Tell Riley I’m sorry we couldn’t hang.” He punctuated the word hang with air quotes and Aaron chuckled.

  “No worries. I think she’s surprised the two of you lasted this long. I’ll get her home in one piece,” Aaron promised.

  “I know you will. Thanks, man. Tonight was fun.” As he spoke the words, he realized they were true. Riley’s life-of-the-party personality and Aaron’s easygoing nature made them great companions and Ewan was suddenly sorry he hadn’t taken them up on more of their offers to join them. He did tend to be a bit of a homebody. Or a fuddy-duddy, as Riley called him.

  “Later.” Aaron grinned before heading back inside.

  “You think you can make it to the front curb, Nat? I’m gonna wave down a cab.”

  Natalie had listened to his conversation with Aaron silently. He could see her bout of nausea had disappeared and while she was clearly tipsy, she seemed steadier. Maybe it had been the heat.

  “Tonight was fun,” she reiterated.

  He looked at her, feeling slightly surprised at her admission. “I’m glad you thought so.”

  “You can dance.”

  He laughed at her comment, relieved she wasn’t pissed off by his overtures. “I think what I was doing was closer to swaying than actual
dancing.”

  She crooked a finger, beckoning him closer, and he walked over until he stood directly in front of her. “You’re so fucking hot.”

  He tried to hide his grin, well aware she would never say any of this while sober. “I’ve been telling you that for years, babydoll,” he teased. He needed to get her home and in her own bed before she said too much more. While her inhibitions were down tonight, he didn’t think she’d like remembering this conversation tomorrow when her walls were erected once more.

  “Kiss me again.”

  He wanted to taste her lips more than he wanted his next breath, but the cool evening air had gone a long way toward killing his buzz. He’d already taken advantage of her inebriation once tonight. He wouldn’t make the same mistake again. “Oh, I’m gonna kiss you again. You can be sure of that. But not tonight. We need to get home.” She looked as if she wanted to protest his refusal, but instead she took his proffered hand and followed him to the front of the club.

  “I just don’t get you.”

  Ewan laughed. “So you’ve said. There’s nothing to get, Nat. I’m a normal, run-of-the-mill guy. Nothing special or different.”

  She shook her head. “That’s not true.” She didn’t elaborate, but with just those three words, Ewan felt his chest swell with affection. What the fuck was it with this woman? She’d consumed his thoughts and fantasies for three years. She had a biting, cutting, sarcastic wit that most people found off-putting, but for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why the rest of the world didn’t see what he saw.

  He waved down a taxi and helped her into the back. On the ride home, she was quiet as she rested her head on his shoulder. He thought she’d fallen asleep but as the driver pulled up in front of the apartment, she lifted her head. He paid and they walked into the darkened pub hand in hand. She stopped by the bar and he turned to look at her.

  “I like it here. This pub.”

  He smiled. “I like it too. It’s home.”

  “I grew up in a mansion.”

  He paused, studying her face. Natalie had never offered any information regarding her childhood, though he’d tried to start the conversation a few times. “A mansion? Cool,” he said casually.

  “This bar, the apartment above. I would have given anything to grow up here. It’s warm. So warm.”

  “Natalie?”

  His question seemed to draw her out of her thoughts. “You gonna keep me up all night talking shit or can I try to get some sleep now?”

  He grinned at the return of her caustic tone. “Oh, I’ll get your ass to bed. No worries there, babydoll.” He bent and swiftly picked her up in his arms, the way someone would carry a newborn baby.

  “What the—” Her words were drowned out by her drunken laughter as he carried her up two flights of stairs. Instinctively, her arms wrapped around his neck. He knew if she’d been sober she’d have been pissed as hell, but when he dumped her unceremoniously in the middle of the bed, she was still giggling.

  “Now…” He bent over her on the bed and silently rejoiced when her laughter turned to a breathless gasp. “Bedtime, angel.”

  She shook her head. “I’m no angel. Satan’s spawn, if my colleagues are to be believed.”

  He cupped her cheek with his hand. “You’re the sweetest angel on earth.” He meant his words as a compliment, but she burst into laughter again and soon he found himself joining her.

  “Jesus, that was corny,” she teased.

  He rolled his eyes. “You know what your problem is?”

  She shook her head.

  “You have no romance in your soul.”

  Natalie struggled to stop laughing. “If I fell for that sweetest angel crap, would that make me romantic?”

  He scowled, though he felt no anger. “It wouldn’t hurt you to try.”

  “I think I’d rather be called,” she paused thoughtfully, “babydoll. Even if it is sexist as shit.”

  He grinned. “Told you that you liked that nickname.”

  “I like it better than that sweetest angel on earth drivel.”

  He joined her laughter this time. “Goodnight, Nat,” he said, bending down to kiss her nose playfully.

  “Wait. I’m stuck.”

  “Stuck?”

  “In this fucking skirt your sister painted on me. Help me?”

  He sucked in a painful breath. “I don’t think—”

  “Please?”

  He could see she was still under the effects of the alcohol and this fallen angel was definitely trying to tempt him toward certain purgatory.

  He swallowed heavily, trying to close his mind to the next few minutes. “Pull back the covers,” he instructed. If he was going to help her get undressed, he was going to make sure there was something on hand to hide her with.

  She crawled under the sheets, lying on her back patiently with a heavy-lidded look that proved she knew what she was doing. He pulled down the tab of the side zipper on her leather skirt. She raised her hips off the bed and he grimaced at the fresh surge of blood the movement sent to his cock.

  “Fuck,” he whispered when she grinned and started shimmying the leather down her hips. She wasn’t kidding about the tight fit. He helped her work the material over her hips, pulling it free of her legs. For three seconds he stared, spellbound at the sight of her bare thighs and the tiny bit of lace covering her—

  He pulled the covers over her body, turning quickly.

  “So what was my lesson?” she asked.

  He struggled to find the breath to speak. He kept his back turned. “What do you think? What did you learn?”

  She considered his question and he silently prayed he hadn’t fallen short. It was just his first lesson. He had six more days to convince Natalie that life was worth living. If she would simply open the door to new experiences and all the people she generally kept at arm’s length, she could have a full, amazing life.

  “I think you wanted me to have fun. Loosen up?”

  He turned to face her, grinning. “That was it. You said you had fun. Did you mean it?”

  She graced him with a genuine smile. “I did. I really did. Your sister’s a hoot. My kind of sarcastic bitch.”

  He stepped closer, relieved she was still buried beneath the covers. He bent down to tuck her in. “Yeah, that’s Riley all right. There’s nothing wrong with letting go, Nat. Laughing, drinking tequila, doing a little dirty dancing. It’s all harmless fun.”

  She touched his cheek and he swallowed back the desire to move even closer. “You’re a good teacher, Ewan.”

  He savored the sound of his name on her lips, wondering if he’d ever heard her say it. In the past, he’d always been hotshot, kiddo. Never Ewan.

  “Night, Nat.” He had to leave while the getting was still good. He wanted far too much from Natalie Miller. Needed too much.

  “Wait,” she called out. He was nearly to the door. Four more steps and he’d be free. Free to hit the shower—a cold one. Free to jerk himself off—a lonely one.

  “You said you’d kiss me.”

  He closed his eyes and prayed for strength. “Tomorrow, Nat. I’ll kiss the shit out of you tomorrow. Not tonight. Don’t ask me.”

  She fell silent and he wondered if she’d passed out. He turned slowly, surprised to find her sitting up, staring at him.

  “I just don’t get you,” she whispered.

  “You will, babydoll. Soon.”

  Chapter Three

  Sunday

  “Nat. Natalie.”

  She opened her eyes, squinting against the bright light shining on her face. It took several painful blinks before she could focus on Ewan’s face.

  “Get lost,” she muttered, closing her eyes against his far too cheerful face. Her head felt as if it was about to split apart and her mouth was too dry to say more than the two words she’d already uttered.

  “I was afraid you wouldn’t feel well,” he whispered. “Listen. I’ve brought you a glass of water and a couple aspirin. I need you to sit
up and take them. We’re on a tight schedule or else I’d let you sleep this off some more.”

  She tried to open her eyes again but the effort was simply too difficult. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “We’re going out. In an hour. I need you to take these pills, then get up and get a shower. It will help, trust me.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “You gave me seven days, Nat. Seven lessons. You agreed.”

  “It’s freaking dawn.” Her voice was shrill and she winced at the pain the sound of her own voice caused. “Jesus, what kind of masochist are you?” She gripped her head.