by Tl Reeve
While she changed, I grabbed her a bottle of water and a couple of pain pills. I knew in the morning she’d be feeling all the wine she drank. Seeing her laugh and enjoy herself—allowing me a glimpse of the woman she’d hidden from the world—thrilled me. I didn’t want to share that part of her with anyone else. The possessive side of me wanted to keep her hidden. I didn’t care if she had a job or the garage to tend to, she was mine.
Ireland stumbled out of the guest bathroom and yawned. Brilliant colored tattoos covered her arms and what I could see of her chest. I wondered how low they went. She wasn’t like anyone I’d ever met, and I’d met too many to count. Some were simple hearts while others were intricate geometric shapes or words. I wanted to study each of them, trace them with my tongue and commit them to memory. Her rockabilly style, along with her vibrant red hair and gorgeous green eyes, mesmerized me from the start, but this look, seeing her relaxed in nothing but my sweats and shirt? Shit, my tongue was wagging for her.
“I’m going to bed. I think I drank too much.” Her husky tone shot straight to my groin. “Thank you for this.”
I stood near the kitchen, glass of scotch in hand. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. If I went to her now, I’d never be able to walk away, so I kept my distance. “Good night, Ireland. Pleasant dreams.”
She scrunched up her nose. “How are you still drinking?”
I chuckled. I wouldn’t tell her I drank the same glass of wine through dinner while allowing her to consume her fill and have fun. “High tolerance.”
She narrowed her eyes, giving me a look like she didn’t believe me. “Lucky. I hate that shit. Landon is the same.”
The jealousy burning through my gut used the alcohol I’d drank as fuel. “Who’s Landon?” The emotion was irrational. I’d jumped the gun before with her brothers, yet I couldn’t stop myself. “Is he your boyfriend?”
She laughed, and the full-belly chortle grated on my nerves. “Good night, Mack. You should really put the glass down.”
“Wait,” I called out, trailing behind her. I didn’t poach on other men’s territory. If she had a boyfriend, they should know where she was. “Are you seeing someone? Should I be calling them to come get you?”
Humor lit her eyes. “Do you honestly believe if I was screwing some other guy I’d be spending the night with you?” Fuck, the way she arched that brow of hers in challenge got me. She fucking had me by the nuts.
“Well, we don’t know each other very well,” I quipped, shrugging.
She snorted. “I am lit tonight, or else I’d be knocking you on your ass.”
Jesus. Why was she pushing my buttons? She could’ve said no, Landon was a girl, which, technically would be hot as fuck if they were dating, but it wasn’t here nor there. Or, she could’ve said Landon was a cousin or some other family member. “Ireland...”
“Mack...” She popped her brow again, and I wanted to wipe the smug look off her face with a kiss or watch her suck my dick.
I clenched my hands at my side, holding back. She was in no condition to be fooling around. “Well then, good night.”
“You said as much already,” she whispered then tucked her lip between her teeth.
I closed my eyes, trying to calm the surge of arousal spilling through my veins. “Who’s Landon?”
“Does it matter, Mack?” She placed her hand to my chest. I gasped at the heat spreading outward from where she touched me.
Tension radiated off of me. It would be so easy to close the distance between us and make her forget whoever Landon was. Yet, I kept myself in check. I didn’t stick my dick where it didn’t belong. “Yes. It does.” I turned away from her and headed for my room. Stopping mid-stride, I glanced over my shoulder. “You should know, I don’t share.”
Again, her tinkering laugh grated my nerves. “Oh, Mack. You’re so easy.”
I turned to face her. The wrath burning through my veins consumed me. I closed the distance between us in two strides. “What did you say?” My heart pounded against my ribs. I shook from fighting a losing battle with her.
She grinned, turning me inside out. Ireland took a step closer to me, narrowing the distance between us. The smell of her rosewater perfume wafted around us, leaving me a bit lightheaded. “You’re. So. Easy.” Each word was punctuated with a tap to my nose. “I should be pissed off at you, telling you to go fuck yourself, but I’m feeling too good.”
“Oh? Are you?” I barely took a breath. Waiting. Watching her. “How good are you feeling?”
She gave a tipsy giggle. “Really good, Mack. I even forgot my strike system.”
“I’m glad you did,” I replied, hating the fucking system of hers but thankful for the clean slate.
Ireland looped her arms around my neck, pulling close enough, to the point I could tell she wasn’t wearing a bra. Fuck, she tore at my control. How easy it would be to tug off the shirt and suck on her pert tits? That dress she wore earlier did nothing to conceal her hourglass figure. I already knew her breasts would overflow in my palms.
“What are you doing?” I whispered, keeping myself in check. I didn’t enter another man’s territory. As much as I wanted Ireland, I wouldn’t start down that path today.
Her emerald eyes sparkled as she brushed her lips over mine and murmured, “Landon is my brother. You already met him.”
“Fuck,” I snarled, pushing her backward into the guest room. “I should paddle your ass for teasing me.”
I slammed my mouth down on hers. The first cry to fall from her lips went straight to my head, leaving me dizzy with lust. Her fire engine red nails dug into my shoulders, and I groaned while devouring her. When her knees hit the bed, I went down with her, covering her body with mine. Her legs went around my thighs, bracing me to her while she unbuttoned my shirt. We should stop. She was drunk, and I didn’t take advantage of impaired women. I wanted mine consenting and screaming my name when I fucked them.
“You could screw the impertinence out of me,” she said, licking her bottom lip as she pulled my shirt from my pants. “Call me a bad girl.”
I muttered a curse when she scored those nails of hers down my chest. Every bit of me screamed at me to forget my morals and fuck her all night. However, staring down at her, her eyes glassy with arousal and too much alcohol, I held back. “I could, but would you remember in the morning?”
She frowned. “You’re a party pooper.”
I chuckled. “A little bit.”
She sighed, laying her hands flat to my chest. “You’re a dick with a conscience.”
There was a first time for everything. I shrugged. “Maybe a little bit.” I kissed her again, unable to get her taste off my mind. I wanted it imprinted on my senses. When her tongue swiped across mine, I delve deeper. I swallowed her soft sighs and moans. She arched to me, rubbing against my hard cock. Fuck, I was slowly losing the battle with her. Tangling my fingers in her hair, I slanted her head in a position where I could take back some of the control she’d ripped from me. I wanted to remember her taste on my lips. When I looked at her again, I craved remembering this moment, her laid out on my guest bed, her shirt pushed up, exposing her tattooed flesh to my starved gaze.
I slipped my hand between the band of the sweats and her warm flesh, groaning when I found she’d taken her panties off too.
She strained toward me. “Touch me. It’s been so long.”
Who was I to deny her a little pleasure?
My dick jerked at the idea, throbbing behind the confines of the zipper of my pants. With her legs spread, I ran my hand lower, teasing the soft curls covering her pussy before tracing the shape of her sex She was wet. The heat of her core seared me. Her slickness tempted me beyond reason. I closed my eyes, sinking into the sensation of touching her soft pussy before I allowed myself the pleasure of pressing first one finger then a second into her. Ireland’s back arched. She tilted her head; her throat bared for my mark. I grinned, pushing my fingers deeper into her while settling over her. I buried my face
into her neck, nuzzling the soft flesh.
Her moans were sumptuous. I wanted to hear them every moment of every day. Nipping and sucking on her skin, I fucked her in slow, teasing thrusts before adding a third digit. She whimpered my name, straining against me. Her pussy sucked on my fingers, quivering around the intrusion while spilling more of her silky cream all over my hand. I couldn’t wait to get inside her. Couldn’t wait to feel her orgasm on my cock while I climaxed, spilling my cum so deep she’d remember the moment every time she moved and know I’d been in her.
Circling her clit with my thumb, I groaned against her skin. “Give it to me, Ireland. Show me what you look like when you come.”
She gasped. A soft whine passed her lips. She shook in my arms, riding my hand while she found her release. I added pressure to the nub, bearing down on it with each rub, extending her pleasure until she was begging me to stop. I didn’t want to. Truth was, I craved getting my dick inside her, even if I knew it was a bad idea.
Ireland reached between us and pulled the zipper down on my pants. My hard dick throbbed. The tingle at the base of my spine signaled how close I really was. “We shouldn’t.” I whispered those words even while I flexed into her hand.
She palmed my length, squeezing me near the base. “We could. We’re adults.”
I pressed my forehead to her shoulder while she slipped my dick from the opening in my boxers and began to work my shaft. “Ireland. This is dangerous.”
If I fucked her now, I’d never let her out of my bed. She’d be mine forever. Telling her would scare her off though. Plus, there was the fact she might regret all of this in the morning.
“I like danger.” She rubbed my glans with the pad of her thumb before stroking me again.
“Shit,” I muttered. “Don’t stop.”
Arousal spiked through my system. The heady sensation hit me hard and fast. Watching her take her pleasure had left me on edge, and with each pump of her fist, I grew closer to climaxing. Damn it. I had more control than this. Stamina for days. But with her, all of that self-professed restraint was gone.
I nipped and sucked on her soft skin, rocking my hips when her pace quickened. I gave over to the coil of bliss building in my gut. I wanted to get there. I wanted to come on her—in her. I craved this. The idea of seeing my cum covering her skin or filling her pussy drove some bestial instinct within me. I couldn’t stop now even if I wanted to, and I didn’t.
“Fuck.” My lip curled at the intensity of my impending orgasm.
When I came on both of us, I growled. The passion of the moment hit me deep in my gut, leaving me dazed. I held myself above her so I didn’t crush her while trying to catch my breath. My dick twitched and spilled more of my spunk until it began to soften to a semi-hard state. I shuddered and groaned.
“Wow, you were really backed up,” she teased.
I could say the same about her. My fingers were still buried in her pussy while she fluttered around the intrusion. I hummed, pulling my fingers from her and licking them before I rolled over onto my back, my semi-hard dick hanging out of my pants. “I wasn’t expecting the night to end this way.”
“Neither was I, if I’m being honest.” She turned to look at me.
I sat up. “I should get a towel and probably a fresh set of clothes for you.”
She shook her head. “I don’t want to move.”
I went to the bathroom and grabbed a washcloth out of the cabinet then wet it. “You don’t have to.” I cleaned up her hand, then the shirt she wore, along with the bit of her tattooed belly exposed. Her eyes fluttered shut as I walked away to place the rag back in the bathroom. I knew I should’ve probably gone back to my room, but I also didn’t want to leave Ireland on her own. After pulling off my shirt and pants, I went back to the bed and climbed in.
She didn’t move. Grinning to myself, I exhaled. Exhaustion tugged at me. Today had been a long ass day, and tomorrow might be even longer. Tucking her against my chest, I drifted off to the sounds of her soft snores. I normally didn’t have women spend the night with me. The act of sleeping in the same bed together was much more intimate than sex. Doing so meant allowing the other person into my life, one I’d prided myself on keeping private. With Ireland, however, I didn’t have the same compunctions.
This felt right.
The feather-light touch of a fingertip tracing the phoenix on my back brought me awake. It took me a second to remember where I was and who rested beside me. The soft light of the coming morning spilled into the room, and I lay there, eyes closed, sinking into her ministrations. When she finally shifted on the bed, I opened my eyes to stare up at her. A small smile tugged at her lips as she continued to caress me.
“Morning.”
“Morning,” she replied. “I was staring at your ink.”
“Do you like it?” I stretched, groaning at the pull of my muscles.
“I do.” She pointed to the pistons near my wrist. I kept all of my tattoos above my cuff line so no one saw them unless I wanted them to. “Pistons?” She chuckled. “I get you’re a gearhead like me, but only frat bros and douches get this one.”
“Cut me a little slack,” I mumbled, rubbing my face across the pillow. “It was my first tattoo. I was young.”
“How many do you have?” Her heated gaze continued to eat me up, and if she didn’t stop, I’d have her pinned under me in moments, screaming my name.
“Enough.” I rolled to the side, allowing me a second to gather my tattered control. “Would you like to have breakfast with me?”
She placed her hand against her stomach and frowned. “No. Eating right now would be a waste. But I’d like some coffee before I go.”
“I can do coffee,” I said. “But first this,” I said, tugging her into my arms and placing a kiss on her lips. She hummed, happily returning the affection before I pulled away. “That’s a proper good morning.”
She rolled her eyes. “Coffee. Please.” She grabbed the bottle of water and took the two pain pills I’d left for her before she went to the bathroom.
I rolled over onto my back, my dick once again straining against my boxers. Jesus. What a night. When I heard the shower come on, I got out of bed and grabbed my clothes. Ireland was so far under my skin I doubted she’d ever climb out. I glanced at the closed door, tempted to join her, yet I knew I couldn’t. She had to go home and change to get to her garage on time while I needed to be downstairs in an hour for deliveries—the ones that should’ve been here yesterday.
Twenty minutes later, Ireland appeared at the entrance of the kitchen wearing her pretty dress from the night before. Her hair was finger combed away from her face, showing how young she was. Shit, I should’ve been ashamed of myself for going after someone ten years younger than me, but I mentally shrugged off the idea and handed her a cup. “I wasn’t sure how you liked it.”
“Black,” she said. “Like my soul.”
I barked out a laugh. “Something tells me that’s a lie.”
She shrugged, giving me a coy look. “I’ll never tell.” She took a sip then moaned. “Oh, this is good.”
“It’s Hawaiian Kona coffee,” I said. “It’s from my private collection.”
“Fancy,” she teased. “Do you use it at the restaurant?”
I shook my head. “Hell no.”
“So, you’re saying I’m special.” She stared at me from over the rim of her cup before taking another swallow. Knowing she was the one, my Boom, relaxed me. I didn’t have to pretend with her or make the situation awkward.
“Something like that.” I leaned against the counter, taking in the view. She was beautiful. Perfect. Her emerald eyes sparkled, and her pale skin glowed.
“So about last night…” Ireland said.
“We had fun. I don’t regret how it ended, do you?” I watched her. Last night had been amazing. I wouldn’t lie to myself and say I hadn’t hoped to go further, but seeing her face in rapture as she orgasmed in my arms had been exquisite.
“I did
. I wasn’t expecting it though.” Pink tinged her cheeks, darkening the freckles she’d concealed with makeup across the bridge of her nose.
“Neither was I.” I pushed off the counter and crossed to her. “I’d like to do this again sometime.”
Her breath hitched, and the sound went to my groin. “Me too.” She finished off her coffee then handed me the empty cup. “I have to go though, or else I’ll be late.” She smacked a kiss to my lips, then grabbed her purse off the chair where she’d dropped it the night before.
“I’ll walk you out.” I left our mugs on the counter then hurried to her side.
“So, I’ll call you about the car as soon as I do a test drive.” Ireland paused then kissed me again. “Bye.”
I smirked. “Bye.” As she walked away, I called out to her. “Hey, I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you leave.”
Her tinkering laughter echoed through the hall leading to the exit of the building. “Right back at you.”
The delivery truck showed up an hour late with half the goods I was supposed to receive. The vendor and supplier were scrambling. How the fuck could I run a Five Star restaurant without the proper provisions? The simple answer? I couldn’t. The long, complicated answer was that I’d make do with what I had on hand and slim down the menu until another truck—hopefully not late this time—brought what I needed. Once I received confirmation the shipment was on the way, I also cancelled the contract with both the vendor and supplier.
Then I spent another two hours on the phone trying to find replacements with several other companies. Thankfully, it wasn’t as painful as I thought it might be. Word of mouth travelled fast in these parts, and where one company failed, there were always several more willing to take the business. I found a local wholesaler who promised to always have same day or next day shipping on whatever I needed, fresh or frozen. I’d also hooked up with a couple of shippers and farms down south in Alabama who could bring me fresh fish by noon every other day.
