Sweet irish Kiss Read online

  “Who? The cat’s mother? Dear, please. Use manners.” He flicked his left hand. “We haven’t got all day, dear, come on.”

  “I can’t afford this lot, I really can’t.”

  “I think I can manage a 50% discount.” He produced a red glitter injected gel-pen and waved it about like a magic wand. Next, he pulled out a Barnsley’s staff discount ticket pad and began scribbling. She wanted to ask if she had to be home by midnight, but something told her he wouldn’t see the funny side to that comment.

  Chapter Three

  Shaun shifted his weight against the glass barrier that separated him from a ten floor drop off the Castillo Hotel in Knightsbridge. Perhaps the barman in him made him resort to leaning against a wall whenever nerves struck. Unsure with what to do with himself, he fumbled with his hair and straightened his pants. A flower pot, something pink and leafy growing out of it, caught his attention. He returned the favor by giving it a kick. But he booted it harder than anticipated and soil and greenery spilled over his foot.

  “Perfect!” He straightened out the pot and scuffed the discarded soil into a corner where he hoped no one would notice. At least not for tonight and not Rachel.

  He checked his watch for the umpteenth time. She should be there any minute.

  What must I look like? All this fretting and pulling at me hair? She’ll think the cat dragged me in from the bins.

  Shaun spun and checked himself in the pristinely clean glass door that led into the penthouse suite. Ugh. His hair sat all skewed to the right, so he ran his fingers through his thick, deep brown locks and attempted to sort his style out. Instead, his actions forced the front to revolt and flop over his face in true Hugh Grant style.

  “For fuck’s sake.” He tapped his fingers on the tempered glass and frowned at his reflection. Not too shabby, he figured, besides the hair. Plain black slacks and a pin-stripe cotton shirt. His mum had always said darker colors flattered him because he worked out, and his shoulders and arms had attracted most of the bulk. Of course that could also have something to do with the fact he rode a motorbike to work every morning. London traffic was bloody awful and he’d quickly learned to maneuver in and out like a pro. Moving a bike like that was bound to build up certain muscles.

  It had been overcast and drizzly all day. True to typical Brit weather, not knowing if it was coming or going, the mid-August evening air had warmed up. He undid a couple of shirt buttons and made himself comfortable on a sun chair to enjoy the scenery. He could see Knightsbridge below and the London Eye in the distance.

  Impatience grabbed at him and edged him to fidget and count the seconds drag by. He stood and paced the tiny space the balcony offered, sipping on an iced whiskey from the mini bar and watching people scurry by below. Each time he saw a woman alone, he wondered if it was her. But they all passed by.

  “She’s not coming. Stood up by a sure thing. Stood up by a paid sure thing. That could only happen to me.”

  “Rachel.” He smiled. “R-rachel.” He liked the way her name sounded, and the way the R resonated in his mouth and rolled off his tongue.

  He checked the time again. Ten minutes late, but it felt more like an hour.

  He finished another drink and readied himself to hit up the mini bar, again. The clicking and fumbling sounds of someone trying to get a card key to work and a woman swearing several times made him glance toward the door. Rachel, he presumed, and chuckled. Before he could even debate heading over to help, the doors swung open like they’d been forced apart by a crowd of vampire hunting, log lunging, flaming torch throwing villagers. Or his regulars at Bell’s ready for happy hour

  And there she stood. Holy mother of....

  Would ya look at that.

  He noticed her sexy curves first, then her milky white skin barely hidden by semi-transparent material. Hells bells, she had a corset on beneath her dress. A green corset! He didn’t linger on that little detail for long because her fiery red hair and bright blue eyes grabbed his attention and held it there for what felt like the longest time.

  Marilyn Monroe hour-glass figure, huge breasts, and cute ass. And her waist scoops in perfectly. I'd love to wrap me arms around her. This woman is smoking hot!

  Her smile made him want to reach for support of his bar. But with nothing nearby he could lean on, he shoved his hands in his pockets and prayed she didn’t notice his body language that must have spelled out “awkward.” He smiled back, possibly. He couldn’t be sure. He had sent the mental message for his lips to quirk up but felt nothing move. Nothing except for his cock, which had awakened from a seemingly long sleep. She fluttered her eyelashes and her grin widened. Did she like what she saw? His heartbeat stalled for a second while he wondered what his next move should be to impress this beautiful creature.

  Lucky bastard, she’s a stunner.

  She edged toward him, leaving the doors to swing shut behind her. Her eyes were still set on his, her stare wide. Her mouth formed an O and she glanced down at her feet. Before Shaun could register what had happened, she’d gone down like a ton of bricks with legs in the air and hair in her face.

  So damned adorable, like a five year old who just fell off her bike in front of her mates. I could squeeze her to death.

  He rushed to help her, but when he saw the disgruntled expression on her face, he couldn’t help but chuckle. This woman, far from helpless and no balance, had plenty of fire. She intrigued him.

  He figured he should offer anyway. “Need some help?”

  “What a gent you are. But there’s no need. I’m not an invalid.” She stumbled to standing, straightened her dress, and flicked back her free flowing curls.

  This girl had growl and quite possibly a bite, too. Had he taken more than he could chew or had there been a mix-up? Romantic, that’s what he’d requested. Someone who wanted to be wined and dined. But he couldn’t complain. She seemed like a challenge he could do with.

  Change the subject, fool, quick. “Ya should come out and see the view, it's nothing short of spectacular.” He offered his arm to distract from what must have been an embarrassing moment.

  She hooked her arm in his. “So, how do you want to play this?” Her words were full of aggression but her touch, as gentle as Snow White, intrigued him. Who was this firecracker?

  Chapter Four

  I can’t believe I did that. What a great first impression. Not! And only I could top it off by going all defensive on his ass. Poor guy looks like a rabbit caught in the headlights. At least he was a gentleman about it, though. Had any of my exes seen me go down like a ton of bricks, all Nia Vilvados style, they’d have pissed themselves laughing and grabbed their cameras. I’m the character who gets caught up in headphone wire when she sees a hot guy in that movie...Fat Greek Wedding, Big Fat Greek…whatever. I know what I mean.

  Rachel shuddered. She’d fallen flat on her face because the hunkiness of her one-night stand had taken her by surprise. She hadn’t expected it. Not in the least. Average, that’s what his profile had said. It’s why she picked him. She figured he wouldn’t be up himself. Most attractive men who know they’re hot behave like monkeys in heat because of it. She wanted a man who would be thanking his lucky stars to have her in his arms, and one who would be romantic and polite. And when he rushed to help her, he‘d surprised her again.

  Drop dead gorgeous and caring? This could be dangerous.

  “Ya feeling better now?” Thick Irish accent, smooth like Baileys, coated each word her one-night stand spoke.

  “Uh-huh.” She glanced up at his welcoming expression and caught her stare in his. “So, you’re Irish?” You’re Irish?

  He quirked his mouth into a grin as if she amused him. She reminded herself that she wanted this and backed up. She sat on the nearest thing to her, a dining chair from the breakfast for two set, and chewed at her freshly manicured nails. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this nervous. Her stomach flip-flopped around the butterflies dancing in her gut.

  “Ya, th
at a problem?” God I love his Irish brogue.

  “Oh, fuck. Listen, Shaun, I’m sorry about the way I came down on you. I mean, not came down on you. Hell, I...I’m sorry for losing it.” He raised an eyebrow. “For biting your head off when you tried to help.”

  “Hey, I get it. I’m not what ya expected.” Shaun, hands firmly rooted in his pockets, shrugged his shoulders. “Ya definitely not what I expected, either, but here we are. We can call it a day if you prefer, or we can enjoy the rest of the evening. What do ya say? I can leave if ya like. The hotel room’s been paid for, so ya can spend the night and make the most of it. I’ll leave ya be, so I will. But I’d rather stay here...with ya.”

  Her stare locked on Shaun, and she watched him grab his bag from the foot of the bed and stride toward the exit. His muscular frame, dark features, and great sense of style had her knees knocking together. She couldn’t remember the last time she actually wanted a man. But it wasn’t like she’d chase after him. The day she did that would be the day she forgave her daddy, or rolled over dead. The latter was more likely to happen first.

  “Yes. Leave if that’s what you want.” She couldn’t catch her breath and gasped before dashing to the balcony for air.

  Why didn’t I ask him to stay? A whole night, no repercussions, with a red-hot gorgeous man who is the spitting image of Colin Farrell. Hmmm, he’s got stubble. What would that feel like brushing up against me?

  Images of this hot, Irish man going down on her flashed before her; using his tongue to massage her clit, burying his fingers deep inside her, and his unshaven face scraping at her most sensitive parts. Her sex swelled from thinking about it. She had to experience that first hand, but first she had to stop him from leaving. She spun to face him, her heart hammering hard. “Shaun?”

  Would she go so far as to beg? She didn’t know, and didn’t want to think about it. Thankfully she didn’t have to because he dropped his bag and flashed a smile her way before storming right up to her. He took her in his arms—his strong, thick arms—and planted the most incredible kiss on her lips. A kind of kiss that made her nearly melt on the spot. She shivered all over, legs like jelly, and not a flinch of regret. She knew she was in trouble, to feel so alive at a man’s touch, and struggled to find the bitter woman who’d find reason to reject such pleasure.

  He pulled back and pecked her on her cheek with a tenderness she’d never experienced.

  “Will you stay?”

  “Of course, I’d like that. And thank ya.” He stepped back and cupped her face in his hands.

  “For what?”

  “For being honest. Helps build trust. Ya know, I’m nervous about tonight, too.” He wrapped his arms around her and held her close.

  “I’m out of practice, but I'm not nervous.” Why are you so defensive, Rachel? Give the guy a break, already. He’s just a one-nighter. Some dude who’s going to break down those walls so you can work toward picket fences and daisies. She edged out of his hold, afraid her blushing cheeks and snappy remarks would tip him off as to how out of practice she really was.

  She sucked in the smoggy, London air. “Let go and enjoy yourself, girl.”

  “Come again?” He had followed her out. She pivoted to face him, and he wasted no time in pinning her against the glass wall of the balcony.

  “My, you do like to dominate.” She wanted to fight his Irish charm and masculinity, but she couldn’t resist the way he took what he wanted.

  He whispered, “Not really, but ya bring it out in me. Ya seem like ya need someone to take control. At least for tonight.”

  “How very perceptive of you. Now, why would an Irish hottie, erm, I mean a handsome man like you, need to use a matchmaking service?” Rachel, fancy asking a question like that? In avoidance, she craned her neck to cob a view of Knightsbridge and the people scurrying about below. He wasn’t having any of it, so it seemed, and guided her to face him directly. Instead of giving her usual sass, she set her sight on the floor and a pile of soil in the corner next to a plant pot distracted her.

  What had happened for such a high class hotel to have left that in such a mess?

  “I spend far too much time working, and ya self? I can’t imagine why someone as sexy as ya would be single.” He planted a soft kiss on her neck, his touch sending tiny sparks of excitement down to the pit of her stomach and to the depths of her soul.

  Internet is the bomb!

  “Oh, I brought you a present.” She peeled his arms away, squeezed past him, and scurried back inside the room with an almost childlike giddiness. Her heart pounded with excitement at the idea of sleeping with her sexy stranger. This had to have been the craziest thing she’d ever done. Ever. Somehow, in the blur of desire, she got out her present for Shaun. She stood for a moment and savored the anticipation running through her veins. “Your profile said you liked a single malt.” She smiled and tossed the bottle of amber liquid on the king-sized bed. It landed with a soft thump.

  “Ay, I do. Thank ya.”

  “But I guess it was a stupid gift since you work in a bar.”

  “Own.”

  “Come again?”

  “I own a bar.”

  She smirked. “You don’t need to prove anything to me. I’m not interested in how much you make or anything.”

  “Sorry, I know, I can’t help myself. It’s all I’ve got to talk about. Me bar. Bell’s Irish Pub in Soho, ya ever been?” She had, actually, but she’d never seen him there.

  “I’m really enjoying learning all about your bar, and all, but....” Rachel stopped mid-sentence when the motto “actions speak louder than words” ran through her mind. She slunk over to him, wrapped her arms around his muscular neck, and planted her lips on his. He slid his hands around to her ass and pulled her close to him. His hardness, painfully obvious, poked into her belly and made her squirm in delight. She moved in, closer still, and concentrated on smoldering him with her best kiss ever. She wanted to please him, and wanted him to beg her for more. This was uncharted territory for her. Sex had been simply a necessity during the few times she'd tried her hand at relationships. This guy, though, was different. He made her feel like a woman. His immediate response trickled heat down into the juncture of her thighs. Already swollen and throbbing with need, she creamed the tiny G-string hiding in the crevice of her sex and ass cheeks.

  No more wasting time. She’d had it with gentle. “I want you inside me, Shaun.”

  “Condoms are in me overnight bag.”

  “Too far away. I want you in me now.” She grabbed at him, clutching onto his shirt in fear she might combust if he didn’t quench her thirst that instant.

  “Sounds good but...”

  “But nothing. That’s what we’re both here for, right?” She slipped her hands up his crisp, cotton shirt and explored his ripped torso. Smooth and so very tempting. She wanted to lick every ripple, and every dip. Later. No time for that now. Consumed by thoughts of feeling him deep inside her, hunger led the way. She unbuckled his belt, yanked at the leather strap, and snaked it away. In a flash, she unzipped him. His pants fell to the ground and exposed a delicious delight—he was commando, his hardness jutting toward her. She wrapped her hand around his width without hesitation. The sluttiness of it made her smirk. Even more so when she could barely reach around his fullness. What a treat. He thought so, too, Rachel decided, licking the glistening drop of pre-cum off the tip of his cock. She swiped her thumb over his sensitive end, and she could have sworn she heard him purr. The guttural sound turned her on so much.

  “Go get that condom.” Her words were barely a whisper, but he must have heard because he kicked off his shoes and removed his pants while stumbling back into the room. Seconds later he returned with a little square packet in his mouth, and naked from the waist down. He tore it open with his teeth. The instant he rolled it on, she slammed her lips on his, hoisted herself up on the bar table, and rammed him inside her. No gentle nudges or teasing inserts. It had been too long since a man had filled her, and n
ever this much before. She buried her head in his chest, his manly scent mingling with the smell of sex driving her even closer to coming, and screamed out her ecstasy.

  She planted her hands on his ass, slid away from his cock, and nudged herself back down on it.

  “Don’t. I’m close.”

  She pressed her pussy further down his throbbing hard on.

  “Fuck me, Shaun. I want to feel your cock spasm in joy when it’s still tucked tight inside me.” She pumped him hard and felt his hips moving in rhythm with her. His shaft widened, warning of his imminent release, and she clenched her tunnel around his girth.

  He tilted her head up. “I want to see ya face when ya come,”

  She smiled and obeyed. She obeyed? “I can do that for you. Fill me up and grunt your pleasure when you explode. I want to hear and feel you come. Fuck me, Shaun.”

  His movement slowed and became more driven until his sexual release detonated. Pleasure ripped through her and she tingled from her stomach down to her toes. Her orgasm exploded and every muscle in her body shuddered. She threw her head back and whimpered through the contractions.

  “Shush,” he whispered, slipping out of her sex and cupping her mound with one hand, holding her close with the other. “I’ve got ya.”

  Chapter Five

  “I can’t believe we did that, and in public view.”

  “Yeah, with my ass cheeks exposed to half of London.” She pointed toward the glass wall protecting them from falling off the balcony.

  “So, you didn’t really explain before. Why a one-night stand?” She stood and straightened herself.

  “For someone who booked one herself and hasn’t shared a single drop of information about herself yet, that’s pretty personal.”