Elmo flipped through the printouts. “Not sure yet where competition will lie.” He pointed to a massive chocolate-brown horse that seemed regal, even at two. “This one dangerous. Wicked Wind. Won last week. Much power.”
Harper tapped her finger against her lip. “Intimidating, but Phoenix has a speed and agility that can overwhelm sheer power. If he can’t see him directly moving up on his right or left, he’ll focus on getting the job done.”
“Agreed,” Aidan said. “Phoenix is a speed runner, but he also flips back and forth from a stalker to a pacesetter. It’s a great talent to be flexible.” He frowned, his brain ticking through the endless competition. “We keep stats on all the potential threats. Famous trainers Pletcher and Baffert will be in the mix; they’re always trouble. I think we’re smart to tackle the Champagne at Belmont rather than the American Pharoah. First, we don’t have to travel to Santa Anita Park, and he needs the experience at Belmont. We work on building his stamina slowly and rest him.”
Harper nodded. “I’m comfortable with that. I’d rather keep him fresh.”
“Me, too. We attack the Champagne in October, then the Breeders’ Cup Juvenile in November.”
One of the biggest race days of the year was the Breeders’ Cup—an all-day feast for gamblers and racetrack aficionados, along with the occasional betters who liked to win a pretty penny. A strong showing in the Juvenile would put Phoenix on the map straight toward the Triple Crown, and it was less than two months away.
“We win the Champagne,” Elmo said firmly.
Aidan laughed and shook his head. “Dreaming big, huh? You know how hard that is.”
“Aren’t they all hard?” Harper asked.
“The Champagne is one mile, and the competition is ruthless. It’s a challenge race. Whoever wins gets their fees automatically paid to compete in the Breeders’ Cup. It’s called the ‘Win and You’re In.’”
Her gaze narrowed with a ruthless intensity that simply turned him on. “Then we win it.”
“Yes,” Elmo said. “He fastest horse I ever seen. He can do it.”
Aidan loved their confidence and belief, but the real problem was the hope. It scratched at him from deep in his gut, clawing its way upward with an agonizing fierceness and strangling his breath. He had so much at stake on Phoenix. They all did. But at the end of this whole road was just a flesh-and-blood horse who’d try his best. Sometimes Lady Luck got pissed and shit all over a hopeful. Bad weather. A bad post position. A bad break from the gate. A bad mood. The numerous obstacles were overwhelming, and it all came down to two lousy minutes and one shot at victory.
Maybe that’s why he loved the race world so much. It was like entering the lottery on a regular basis and getting close enough to try again. And again. And again.
“Elmo, what do you want to do when we win the Triple Crown?” Harper asked.
The jockey gave a half grin. “I see Fiji.”
Aidan cocked his head. “Huh? Figured you’d want to build a big house somewhere and invest in your own horses.”
“Don’t need stuff. Want to sit on beach and drink rum from coconuts and watch sunset.”
Harper reached out and took the jockey’s hand. And damned if Elmo didn’t treat her to a gentle smile and return her grip. “I love that. What about you, Aidan?”
Return to Ireland like a king. Take his pick of training any horse he chose. A new challenge. A new farm. A new road to travel.
The words floated in his brain but wouldn’t transfer to his tongue. It all felt . . . false. Instead, he shrugged. “Anything I want. On my terms.”
She nodded, but her gaze dropped from his and she busied herself with the endless folders. Had he hurt her by his smart-ass answer? And why did that idea hurt him? “And you, Harper? If Phoenix wins the Crown and you come into big money, what’s your dream?”
Elmo leaned in with curiosity, waiting for her answer.
She lifted her gaze, and Aidan’s breath seized in his lungs. He tumbled deep into an ocean of sea green and sank below the surface, seeing the truth gleaming bright and true. “This,” she said simply. “Don’t you see? I’m already living my dream. We’ve won, even if we lose. Phoenix is healed, I got to go on an incredible journey, and I met you both. What more could I want?”
He remained speechless. There was nothing he’d be able to say—not when she so clearly spoke from her heart. He sat silent, mulling over her words, not wanting to show how much she affected him.
Finally, he said the only thing he could. “Bullshit.”
Elmo cut him a hard glare. Harper narrowed her gaze.
“You’d save a hell of a lot more animals.”
Elmo and Harper shared a glance and began laughing.
“When you’re right, you’re right, Irish,” she said.
Elmo got up and stretched. “I go to bed now.”
They said good night. The soft click when the door closed behind him echoed in the sudden silence.
He looked at her, but she was staring at the laptop with a mad focus. Her hand trembled slightly over the mouse. A touch of red heated her cheeks. Did she ache for him as bad as he did for her? Or was she just tired and overheated, and he was the only one with this raw hunger? Pissed off at the surging need chopping through his body, he stood up. “I guess I should go, too. I’m next door.”
“Good to know. If I need you for anything, you won’t be far.”
He arched a brow. That line had been cryptic. Had her cheeks flushed brighter? He cocked his hip and gave in to impulse. “Did you need something?” he drawled.
She ducked her head, then looked up. Her voice was tentative. “I thought maybe you could stay for one more drink. To . . . celebrate.”
Shock got him for a moment. She chewed her lip, looking like it was no big deal, but Aidan realized it was a hell of a big deal. She’d just asked him to stay. And damned if he wouldn’t let wild horses drag him away from this fragile opportunity to follow her lead.
Slowly, he smiled. “I’d love another drink.”
Chapter Sixteen
What was she doing?
The inner voice screamed a warning she was heading into the danger zone. Yes, he lived with her, but there was something different about tonight. The hotel room seemed extremely . . . intimate. The looming presence of the king-size bed behind them distracted her. At least in a suite, the bed would be safely hidden behind closed doors. Now she’d have to sip a cocktail alone with him with the monstrosity close by, mentally torturing herself with all the things he could do to her in that bed.
She shouldn’t have let Elmo leave. He was an excellent chaperone.
“You okay, love?”
She pinned on a false smile and nodded with way too much enthusiasm. “Yep, I’m great. If you refill the glasses with ice, I’ll grab the last two bottles.”
Did his gaze skew slightly to the left, past her shoulder, to stare at the bed?
Refusing to think about it, she grabbed the Jack Daniels and handed them over. He doctored the drinks. The ice clinked. The amber liquid spilled into the glasses, reminding her of the stinging heat of his eyes. He lifted the glass and handed it to her, raising his in the air. “Slainte.”
She savored the sound of his Irish on his tongue. “Slainte.”
The liquid burned, then warmed her throat. She licked her lips and let out a throaty purr. When she looked up, his gaze was hooded, and a dangerous spark hung thick in the air. Her body surged to life. A throbbing ache settled between her thighs. Her breasts grew heavy and ripe, as if anticipating his tongue and lips and teeth on her nipples. She spun around and dropped in the red chair, desperate for space.
Was she tempting fate? Or was she finally ready to admit having him for one night might be worth the risk?
The silence pulsed with unspoken emotion and unfulfilled lust. She fell back on the only topic she was comfortable with. “Wasn’t his performance amazing today? Between Captain Hoof able to calm him down and the blinkers, he’ll be unstoppabl
e. I was thinking he’s more of a pacesetter than a stalker, though.”
She glanced over. His muscles were tight with tension, and his fingers shook the glass, making ice cubes move and clink together in a happy melody. His gaze probed hers. She waited for his assent. Waited for him to dive into the topic they were both obsessed with.
Phoenix.
When he didn’t answer, she continued. “Captain Hoof hasn’t worn the chicken costume as much—have you noticed? We may be able to wean it off of him in the next month. Or allow him to wear it strictly in the house when we leave him alone.”
Silence.
She gulped the rest of her drink and put it down on the table. The loud crash made her wince. Guess she’d used a bit more strength than she thought. But he was making her nervous. She shouldn’t have invited him to stay. She sucked at this stuff, and she didn’t even know what she wanted.
“I think you should go,” she finally said.
Nothing.
When she risked another glance, he was staring at her with a predatory hunger that smashed the breath out of her lungs. “You want me to leave?” he finally asked, his voice like rough gravel and sand.
A shiver shook through her. “I don’t know what I want,” she said truthfully. “Do you?”
“I want you.”
A gasp escaped her lips. The stark words fell between them like hard stones dropping into water. Confusion swamped her. “For a night?”
“No. That kiss proved to me I couldn’t give you up after one night.”
She began to pace furiously. His words swarmed her ears with sweet promise and crippling panic. Men weren’t this direct. Men liked to seduce and play pretty games, didn’t they? Why was he choosing to push her tonight after all this time of fighting their attraction?
“Is this because Phoenix finally won?” she challenged. “You want to complete your victory by having me fall into bed with you? Control both the horse and owner?” The stinging words peppered out of her mouth before she could swallow them back. “If he’d lost again, we’d never be having this conversation.”
He placed his glass carefully down on the table. Put his hands on his hips. And regarded her with a savage intensity that made everything stop. “Yes, we would. We’ve been building up to tonight since the moment we met. I’m just deciding to call you out on it now.” His voice came out rough. “Do you want me?”
She blinked. “I—I—”
“Simple question. I need a yes-or-no answer.”
“Yes.” Her cheeks burned and fear bubbled in her veins, but she wasn’t going to lie. Not about this.
His face softened. “Good. Time for a few truths. I’ve been hard since I laid eyes on you. Been dreaming about you every night. So I’ll tell you what I want, and you can decide if you want me to stay.”
Eyes wide, she stared at him, helpless under the primitive male energy swirling around him. She’d never craved a man this badly before. Her whole body turned to high alert, waiting for the signal to cross the room and step into his arms.
“I want to take off your clothes, lay you out on that bed, and make you scream with pleasure. I want to claim you tonight and every night after this, until there are no barriers between us. I want to be your man, Harper, for however long this journey lasts.” His eyes dimmed with a flare of frustration. “I can’t offer you marriage or promise I’ll stay. After the road to the Derby, I plan on returning to Ireland. You need to know that in order to make your decision. And if you say no, I swear to God, nothing will change between us. You mean too much to me at this point to screw around with our relationship or what we have with Phoenix. I can handle the rejection like an adult.” He let out a breath. “That’s all of it. I can go back to my room, right now, if you want.”
His intent was plain and stark. He wasn’t sticking around. There’d be no false promises or words of love between them. But maybe there would be something bigger. The opportunity to experience everything this man had to offer, a chance to dig deep and push herself to really make a connection with a man, past the physical surface of a temporary attraction. Maybe this was what she’d been waiting for, and Aidan O’Connor was her gift. She was so tired of being alone. Wasn’t she entitled to a great love affair, even with the end clearly known?
“I don’t want to get married,” she admitted. “Or have children. And I understand you want to go home to the land you love.”
He took a step closer, then stopped. Sizzling energy pulsed between them. The silence screamed with unspoken, raging lust. Fascinated, she watched his jaw clench and every muscle in his body tighten. The rough command ripped from his throat. “For God’s sake, Harper. Help me out here. I fucking promised not to touch you, and I won’t, but if you want to do this, I need you to say so.”
“I say so.”
Naked lust shot out from across the room at her. She shivered at the dark promise in his eyes, a promise that warned he wasn’t going to hold back. Not with her body. Probably not with her heart.
Harper didn’t care.
“Come to me.”
Her breath shuddered in her lungs. Every step was a deliberate reminder she was choosing him. When she finally stood close, the lash of his body heat struck her hard; the scent of soap and skin and spice surrounded her. His hands wrapped under the line of her jaw, holding her still, and his gaze delved deep, probing all the way to her secret, lonely soul. Vulnerability hit, but his slightly shaky hands told her she wasn’t the only one affected.
“You’re so damn beautiful,” he said gruffly, his thumbs stroking her cheeks. “I’m afraid I’ll be too rough. I’ve wanted this for a long time.”
His admission soothed her nerves. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and tilted her head back, giving him full access. “I don’t want gentle,” she whispered back. “I want hard and rough. I want dirty.”
An Irish curse blistered his lips. She caught the low scrape of his chuckle before his mouth paused an inch from her own. “That I can give you.”
His mouth took hers, and her entire body sighed. His lips were supersoft and his tongue hot and delicious as he claimed her, drinking every drop, and her nails bit into his shoulders while she pressed close, her breasts cradled against his muscled chest, teasing her hard nipples.
He groaned, ripping his mouth from hers only to tug off her T-shirt. The buttons of his shirt scratched against her skin, and her fingers clumsily began pulling at them, desperate for full contact. They kissed in between wriggling off clothes, kicking off shoes, until finally they were in their underwear, and he scooped her up to lay her out on the bed.
She shivered under his blistering gaze, remaining still as he devoured her with his eyes, his pupils darkening in savage satisfaction. “I knew it,” he murmured, tracing the line of her purple lace bra strap. “I had an idea you were a seductress under those clothes. Do you know how many sleepless nights I spent imagining this moment?” He tweaked her nipple through the lace, ran his hand over her trembling stomach, and raked his fingers over the matching delicate panties.
A surge of wetness dampened the lace, and she bowed her hips, offering more. “Funny, I’ve been sleeping fine,” she managed to get out, the lie evident in her needy body practically weeping for him.
A devilish smile rested upon his lips. “Oh, I’m gonna make you pay for that remark.”
She arched up and tried to drag him onto the bed. “Good, I’m waiting. Do you have a condom?”
“Right here.” He reached down and grabbed one from his pants.
A husky laugh escaped her lips. “Planned to seduce me this weekend, Irish?”
“I’ve been carrying them around since I met you, love. Leave a man to his dreams, okay?”
Her second laugh died in her throat when he peeled his briefs over his hips. Harper took in every inch of solid muscle, earned the old-fashioned way, with hard labor and sweat. Hair dusted golden skin, lighter in the places shielded by his clothes. His thighs reminded her of sturdy tree trunks, braced apar
t, emphasizing the hard, swollen length of his thick cock. A low moan cut through the room. She didn’t even realize it’d come from her until he shook his head in warning.
“Keep looking at me like that, we both won’t last long.”
“I’m just admiring the view. There’s no curse here.”
He stalked toward the bed again and stared down at her with a touch of greed. “What curse?”
Her lips curved in a mischievous grin. “The Irish curse.”
Recognition hit. One brow quirked, and he joined her on the bed. “Oh, you’re really in for it now, love. Let’s see how loudly you can apologize.” Hard hands lifted her hips and tugged down her lace panties.
Her eyes widened. “I was just kidding! Aidan—”
Sliding her thighs open, he positioned his shoulders in between them. “I love how you say my name. I can’t get enough of it. Can’t get enough of you.”
His head dropped.
Oh God.
He worshipped her with his tongue, licked and sucked and teased, holding her open with his thumbs and humming in pure satisfaction with every motion. Her hips rotated in demand, helpless under the deft ministrations of that delectable mouth, until the orgasm shimmering in front of her hit full force. She writhed on the bed and cried his name, her fingers twisting violently in the sheets, riding out the exquisite release that shook every inch of her body.
He kissed the backs of her knees, her hip, her belly button. He slid back up, running his tongue between her breasts, then quickly snapping open the front closure of her bra to free her aching nipples. “You taste so damn sweet, Harper,” he murmured, sucking gently on one swollen tip. Her hands found the back of his head, sliding through the crisp straw-colored strands and holding him tight to her. “I can’t wait much longer. I need to be inside you.”
“Yes.” She tried to focus, halfway drunk from his touch and smell and taste. Wrapping her legs around his hips, she opened herself up and invited him in.
He rasped out something in Irish, his breath hot in her ear. Fitting himself quickly with the condom, he rose up, grasped her knees, and surged inside.
all roads lead to you Page 20