Trying Sophie: A Dublin Rugby Romance

by Norinne, Rebecca

  She didn’t say no.

  “Mmm-hmm,” was her response as she pushed her heel into my glutes and tugged me forward.

  “Yes,” she sighed as my cock slipped inside and she closed her eyes in quiet exaltation. “Just like that,” she whispered, opening them and staring at me, her irises hazy with desire and her cheeks flushed pink in the glow of a nearby street light. Her lips hitched up in a sensual smirk. “God, you feel fantastic.”

  For a few brief seconds I fought the urge to thrust. Holding still, I let her heat envelope me, welcome me home. I didn’t stay that way for long.

  “Now, Declan,” she demanded and with a guttural moan, I pulled back and drove into her, as far as I could go … and then did it all over again.

  She wound her fingers through my hair and pulled me close, claiming my mouth in a violent kiss as I slammed into her lovely pussy. I slid my tongue from her mouth and kissed her chin, over her pulse, and down to the crook of her neck. Pulling her t-shirt to the side, I exposed her collar bone and clamped her skin between my teeth. She let out a small yip that was shortly followed by a deep moan when I licked my way from her shoulder back to her lips. I didn’t think I’d ever tire of the taste of her.

  “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” she chanted as I rocked against her. “Just like that, right there,” she encouraged. “Oh fuck, I’m coming. So good. So, so good.”

  Rolling my hips as she clenched around my cock, I leaned back and watched Sophie’s orgasm take hold. Her eyes were closed, heat high in her cheeks, with her teeth clamped around kiss-swollen lip. This right here—the woman I loved, giving herself over to me, letting me be responsible for her pleasure—was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

  “Look at me, Soph,” I whispered and her eyes fluttered open as a lazy smile hitched her lips.

  “Hey you,” she said on a sigh. “Come here.” She pulled me in for a slow, lazy kiss and I gave myself over to it.

  We kissed like that for ages while my pulse slowed and my cock rocked deliberately in and out of her.

  “I have to tell you,” I started to say, before she placed her finger over my mouth.

  “Shh, you don’t have to tell me. I already know.”

  “But I do,” I managed to get out as my body began to tingle, the sensations starting deep in my belly and building outward. “I need you to know …” I bit out as shivers ran up my spine and the hair on the back of my neck stood on end, the pressure building until I couldn’t hold it back anymore. “You’re it for me Soph. You’re all I need.”

  All at once, my orgasm shot through me, blazing a white hot trail from my cock to my heart and then to my head, and I knew in a flash of blinding clarity that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with Sophie.

  “You’re the one,” I affirmed as I pushed into her one final time.

  I just prayed she felt the same.

  Sophie

  We strolled along in companionable silence, my hand clasped in Declan’s, each lost in our thoughts. As I’d driven here, I’d wondered what our reunion would be like, but none of the scenarios I imagined had come close to reality. I’d never done anything like what had just occurred but being near Declan turned me into a whole different person, someone who threw caution to the wind, a woman whose passion and desire over-rid her good sense. And the craziest thing of all? I loved who I became when I was with him.

  “I’m sorry,” he apologized, surprising me out of my thoughts.

  My brow furrowed, I asked, “What for?”

  “For back there.” He notched his head in the direction we’d come from. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

  “Oh yes you absolutely should have,” I laughed, assuring him I was perfectly fine with what had taken place. “That was …” I trailed off, my words insufficient.

  How did you describe something so completely wild and raw and uninhibited in a way that didn’t make it sound trite or banal? There were only so many times and so many ways a woman could say, “I’ve never felt anything like that before” without wondering if she’d ever felt anything, period.

  And that was the point I’d come to now, pondering how I’d gone my whole existence feeling only half alive. Because what I felt for Declan—how I felt with him—that was living life to its fullest. I couldn’t imagine going back to the woman I’d been before. Which is how I knew I’d made the right decision coming here tonight.

  Reaching the gate to his front yard, Declan stepped aside to let me enter. “It was disrespectful. You deserve better.”

  I stopped and peered at him, considering his words and disgusted tone. “Disrespectful how?”

  “That’s how …” he started to say but then stopped. Running his hands roughly through his hair, they caught on the band holding it back and he swore. “Shit, I forgot about this thing. I need to cut it off.”

  I tilted my head and took in his changed appearance. I couldn’t be sure if it was the street light, but his skin looked sallow and there were dark circles under his eyes. His cheekbones were more pronounced and his suit fit him looser than the jeans and leather jacket I was used to seeing him in. While the new pony tail and extra scruff worked on him, otherwise he looked haggard. Aoife’s dire warnings came back to me and I wondered if he’d been worse off than she knew.

  “I like it,” I said, running my fingertips along his stubbled cheek before dropping my hand to my side. “I think you should keep the hair and the beard. I can’t wait to feel it between my thighs.”

  “Yeah?” he asked, his eyes sparking with heat.

  “Yeah,” I confirmed. “And do you know what else I think?”

  He shook his head and stepped closer. “Tell me.”

  “I think you’re berating yourself for something we both enjoyed. I mean, I assume you enjoyed it too?”

  “Yes,” he answered, taking a step away and hanging his head in shame. “And that’s the problem.”

  “How so?”

  “I shouldn’t do that with you.”

  “I’m not following,” I replied, completely lost.

  “Fucking you up against a wall like that, in the middle of the road where anyone could see.”

  “I was right there with you. I asked you to,” I reminded him, placing my hand on his forearm and giving it a soft squeeze.

  He sighed and dropped my gaze, stared out over the garden for a moment, then asked, “Do you want to come inside, or are you heading back to Ballycurra?”

  When his eyes met mine again, they were filled with apprehension.

  What had gotten in to him? Where was that confident, sexy man who’d picked me up at the airport only a couple of months ago? The one who’d stood in my grandparents’ kitchen and told me he’d get me to break all of my carefully crafted rules because eventually I’d want him so badly that rules no longer mattered? The Declan who said and did whatever he wanted and made no apologies for who he was?

  I missed that Declan. This Declan was filled with doubt and self-loathing. Had I done that to him?

  Lacing my arm through his, I tugged him along beside me toward the front door. “I didn’t drive all the way out here only to turn around and head back after the match.”

  “Alright, good,” he answered, fishing his keys out of his pockets. As if he were trying to convince himself of it, he added a little quieter, “Yeah, okay. That’s good.”

  He opened the door and when we stepped through, I was immediately assaulted by the smell of garbage and … something else I didn’t want to identify.

  “Holy shit!” I exclaimed reflexively, covering my mouth and nose. “What the hell is that smell?”

  “Fuck,” Declan swore, tossing his bag on the ground and stomping toward the back of the house where the kitchen was.

  “I forgot to take out the garbage,” he called over his shoulder. “Go ahead and make yourself comfortable in the sitting room. Can I get you anything?” he asked, not waiting to hear my answer.

  Thinking it odd he’d directed me to the little roo
m at the front of his house since I’d only ever seen it when gave me that first tour of the place, I followed noiselessly behind him. With the only light in the room coming from the bulb over the stove, I could barely make out Declan bent over in front of the sink, pulling out the offending garbage and tying up the bag while cursing up a storm.

  He hadn’t seen me enter after him, but I’d seen plenty. The place was an absolute wreck. Empty beer and whiskey bottles covered the counter, his couch was piled high with clothes—and from the smell of it, they were all dirty—and there were pizza and other takeaway boxes scattered across the coffee table and sitting on the floor in front of his favorite leather chair. It looked like someone had gone on a weeks-long bender and hadn’t taken the time to clean up afterwards.

  And that’s when I put two and two together. It wasn’t just his house. Declan himself was a wreck. Now I understood why his skin was sallow: he’d been drinking nonstop, something he didn’t normally do. And even though the empty food containers indicated he’d eaten a ton of calories, they weren’t the good, healthy kind that fueled his body for the amount of physical exertion he endured on a daily basis. He hadn’t cut his hair or shaved, not because he was trying out a new style, but because he couldn’t be bothered to keep up with his regular grooming habits.

  “Declan?” I asked, in a small, worried voice.

  He jumped when he heard me and smacked his head against the counter. “Fuck!” he bellowed, standing straight and rubbing where his skull had connected with the granite. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “Yeah, I’m getting that.” I glanced around the space once more and asked, “Declan, what’s going on?”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked around as well, seeing the space through my eyes. “I should have thought ahead. I didn’t want you to see the place like this.”

  I stepped into the room and leaned against the island before jumping back when my hand landed in something sticky. Wiping it on my jeans, I said, “I don’t care that the place is a mess. I care why it’s like this. You’re normally so fastidious,” I said, pointedly looking at his face.

  It wasn’t that I didn’t think the beard looked good—in fact, it might suit him even better than a freshly-shaved face—but it was so out of character. All of this was.

  “The Declan I know and—” I stopped short, catching myself before I blundered into that confession “—he’s more concerned about his hair than anyone I know. With his entire appearance.”

  Quickly, he glanced away and then brought his eyes back to mine. “I feel like I’ve messed everything up.”

  I held my hand out to him. “Not everything. I’m here, aren’t I?”

  Breathing out a sigh of relief, he answered, “And thank fuck for that,” as he took my hand.

  “Leave the mess. We’ll get to it later. We need to talk.” Pulling him behind me, we walked out of the room.

  His eyes looked panicked, but then he got them under control and agreed. “I know. There’s so much I want to say.”

  I smiled at him. “If you have half as much to say as I do, this is going to be a very long night.”

  Suddenly his eyes twinkled. “I can think of other ways to pass the time if you get tired of talking.”

  “There he is!” I exclaimed, happy to see Declan reclaim a bit of the man who tossed out innuendos and double entendres as easily as he breathed.

  He chuckled and pulled me in for a quick kiss. “I can’t believe you’re here. I’m dreaming, aren’t I?” Wrapping his hands around my waist to rest at the small of my back, his eyes sobered and flicked between mine. “You’re really here,” he murmured, as if he just now realized I’d come when he’d asked me to.

  “I’m really here,” I confirmed. Digging deep for courage, I promised, “And I’m not going anywhere.”

  Declan’s eyes flashed with surprise and then hope. His Adam’s apple bobbed just before he croaked, “What?” He cleared his throat. “Did you say …”

  I studied him for a couple of seconds before confirming he’d heard correctly. In a flash I saw how he’d age, the man he’d become as the years passed, and knew there was nothing anyone could say or do that would keep me from experiencing those years with him, prevent me from living my life by his side.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” I assured him. “I’m staying.”

  “You’re staying?”

  His eyes shone with relief and … something more. Something jubilant and profound.

  I nodded and swallowed around the lump in my throat, as I tried to keep my tears at bay. “I love you Declan,” I whispered. “I love you so damn much I can’t imagine ever walking away from you,” I choked out on a ragged breath.

  Placing his rough, calloused palms on my face, Declan held me tenderly and then stroked an errant tear from my cheek.

  “Don’t cry baby,” he uttered quietly, moving in for a soft, worshipful kiss that lasted several long seconds. Eventually pulling back, his eyes caught mine and his lips raised in a shy, joyful smile. “I love you too Soph. I’m less than half a man when I’m not with you.”

  He kissed me again, taking it deeper, our tongues mating. When we finally broke apart, he grinned. “It might’ve taken me 18 years to say it, but now that I have, you’re never going to hear the end of it. I’ve loved you since I was eight years old Sophie Newport and I’m going to love you until the day I die.”

  Declan bent down and, placing his arm under my knees, scooped me up against him. I wrapped my arms around his neck and as he carried me up the stairs, he kissed me breathless.

  When he undressed me, his eyes devoured every inch of my skin, and he told me how much he loved me. When he laid me down on his bed and covered my naked body with his, he told me again how much he loved me. When he slid into me and rolled his hips against mine, he told me how much he loved me. When he made me come three times, each with a soul-shattering intensity I didn’t think I’d ever recover from, he told me how much he loved me. And when he came, groaning my name as he emptied himself inside of me, he promised to love me forever.

  I promised him the same.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Sophie

  Fitzgerald’s Pub was closed for Christmas Eve for a private celebration with friends and family. My grandma had just cut the Christmas cake she’d ordered special from Mrs. McNamara and as slices were passed around, my Grandpa carried his to the corner where he was prepping his fiddle. Nearby his friend tested out his flute.

  When Declan bit into the cake he groaned in appreciation. “Have I mentioned how much I love Christmas?” he asked around a mouthful of the spiced nut cake.

  “You love whiskey,” I responded, taking my own small bite of the alcohol-laced confection.

  I was positive it was flammable, what with the amount of whiskey it’d been soaked in for the last several weeks, and I wasn’t at all convinced you could still call it cake.

  Declan nodded. “I do. I really, really do.” And then he kissed me, the sweet marzipan frosting coating his lips giving way to deep plum and orange flavors laced with cinnamon and nutmeg. “But I love the taste of you more,” he added, his brows waggling.

  Across the room Katie cheered over our PDA while Cian scowled and looked away. Declan had told me they’d patched things up, but I didn’t know if Cian would agree with that. He’d loosened up a ton in the last several days, but I thought that had more to do with Katie’s influence than any resolution between the two men.

  I raised my eyebrow at Katie and she pursed her lips and rolled her eyes, indication she had no idea what had crawled up Cian’s butt and died. I hadn’t the foggiest notion what was going to happen between the two of them, but as long as he remained a nice distraction, I was happy to encourage it.

  And speaking of scowling, Declan’s eyes were trained on the front door as a small group of late-comers joined the festivities. I followed his gaze and watched as Aoife unwound a scarf from around her neck while to her left Eoin shuffled ne
rvously.

  “What’s wrong?” I leaned in and asked.

  Taking a sip of the homemade egg nog I’d made specially for this occasion, Declan shook his head. “Nothing.”

  “Did Eoin come with Aoife?” I asked, wondering if Declan’s abrupt mood shift had something to do with his teammate at her side.

  “I don’t know,” he said, pushing his chair back and standing. He glanced down at me and his eyes softened. “Keep my seat warm?” he asked, before walking away to talk to his sister.

  I watched as he approached them. Aoife’s stance grew defensive, while Eoin glanced around the room anxiously, looking for escape. I raised my hand in greeting and held up a bottle of beer from the bucket at the end of the table, invitation for him to join me. He turned to Aoife, said something, nodded at Declan, and then came to sit next to me.

  “Happy Christmas,” I said, handing over the beverage.

  “Happy Christmas to you too,” he answered, taking a long drag from the bottle. His eyes flicked back to where Declan and his sister stood in heated discussion.

  “Do you know what that’s all about?” I asked, trying to engage him in conversation.

  When Declan had voiced his concerns about Aoife’s interest in Eoin, I’d tried to persuade him to mind his own business since they were both adults who could make their own decisions. He’d promised he would let it go but from the way he glowered at his sister now, it didn’t look like that was going to happen anytime soon.

  “If I had to guess,” Eoin answered, “yes.”

  When he didn’t elaborate, I realized I would have to pry for information. “And your guess would be …”

  While he swallowed several deep glugs of beer, he stared down at me over the neck of his bottle. Eventually he said, “Declan doesn’t like that Aoife and I are friends.”

  Captain Obvious, reporting for duty.