Kiss of the Irish (Foreign Fling)

by Lauren Hawkeye

  Easy.

  Slowly he urged her to turn around until she faced the other way, her back nestled against his front. Taking his time, he traced a finger up the curve of her spine, over the nape of her neck, then across her cheek. Beneath his touch, she sucked in a breath, pressing back into him.

  “What are you doing?” Her voice was a whisper, but she didn’t move to stop him as he placed both of his hands on her shoulders.

  “Trying to get you to relax.” Kneading his fingers into the slope of her neck, he winced at the knots in the muscle. “It’s this or a few shots of Jameson’s.”

  “That might not be a bad idea, either.” She let out a breathless laugh, but instead of pulling away and asking for that whiskey, she arched into the press of his fingers. “God, that feels so good.”

  Every time she shifted, the fullness of her ass brushed against him in just the right spot, so yeah, it felt really freaking good for him, too.

  “I’ve never met anyone so tense.” Finished with her shoulders, he worked his fingers down over her shoulder blades and back. “What’s weighing on you so heavily, darling’?”

  She groaned when his thumb pressed into a massive knot at the bottom of her rib cage, her breath hissing until the tightness gave way beneath his touch. Then she turned around, placing her hands lightly on his chest.

  “I’m not tense right now.”

  “Feeling looser, then?” His voice was low and raspy as he laid one hand on her waist. She was nervy, his Yank, and the last thing he wanted was to spook her. No, he wanted her to stay right where she was, settled between his legs, all that softness teasing him with its warmth.

  “Yes.” She swallowed, and he watched avidly as her pink tongue flicked out to trace her lips. She seemed to be thinking hard, something he couldn’t say he was capable of with her silky heat pressed up against him, but she made her decision quickly.

  Bracing herself with palms on his thighs, she rose on her toes, angling her face for a kiss.

  He wanted to thread his hands through her hair and take over, but something about her just screamed that she needed to do this on her own. Needed to prove to herself that she could. So even though it was one of the most painful things he’d ever had to do in his life, he forced himself to remain perfectly still while she brushed her lips against his.

  He couldn’t hold back a low groan. Such a sweet, chaste little kiss, yet her lips had that hint of citrus he’d so enjoyed the night before. She brushed that lush mouth over his, and just when he thought she’d retreat, she did it again, and then one more time.

  His free hand slid up to cup her cheek, and the other squeezed the flesh at her waist, enjoying the decadence. A low growl slipped from his throat.

  And then she was on him, her lips slanting over his, her tongue tracing the seam of his mouth, breathy little sighs coming with every move.

  “Sarah.” Gripping her tightly, he fought against his instincts, which were screaming at him to lift her up, strip her of those jeans, lay her out on the couch, and urge her to move beneath him.

  Still sensing that she needed some control, he instead lowered both hands, bending to hook them behind her knees. She gasped against his lips when he lifted her bodily, settling her so that she was straddling his lap.

  One rock of her hips almost sent them tumbling to the floor. Shoving aside the stacks of distributor invoices, he laid back, urging her forward, her weight on hands that stroked over his chest.

  The touch was somehow tentative and bold at the same time, her fingers blindly moving as she finally got brave enough to slip her tongue into his mouth.

  It was almost his breaking point.

  “Cian.” Sarah panted against his mouth, her hands working their way over his chest. When those curious fingers brushed one of his nipples, he hissed through his teeth at the delicious tug and answering bite of pain.

  Her eyes widened, but damn if the little minx didn’t bring her fingers right back, brushing over her discovery.

  “This is…it’s like your eyebrow.” He saw the spark in her eyes as her right hand swept up to play, too. “Oh my God. You…doesn’t this hurt?”

  His cock hurt, the way she kept sweetly toying with the silver rings through both of his nipples. His need started to rise, hard and fast, and he shuddered as he placed his hands over hers, stilling them.

  “They hurt in the best possible way.” He watched her face as the meaning sunk in. “And unless you want me to strip you right out of that sweater again, you should probably stop.”

  “Hurts in the best possible way?” Her brow furrowed, and then she clapped a hand to her lips. “Oh, God. I had no… I mean, that’s possible?”

  The woman was so sweet she didn’t know how very arousing a little bit of pain could feel.

  No matter how rigid the realization made his cock, now was not the time to show her. Not here, not in his office on her first day in his country, with his sister listening outside the door.

  Sitting up, he slid her down his body with great effort. Yeah, he’d do just about anything to finish what they’d started. But one look at the wonder in her eyes, and he knew she wasn’t ready.

  “Come. I’ll walk you out.” He was a bit surprised to find that he didn’t want her to go—he’d thoroughly enjoyed their game, never mind that steamy kiss.

  He had work.

  They both needed space.

  Ainsley peered from around the door of the kitchen, grinning madly as Cian led Sarah out of his office then to the front door of the pub. As they stepped out into the fresh green afternoon, he wondered if he could get away with kissing her good-bye.

  Instead, she stopped him in his tracks.

  “Would a piercing like…that…feel good on a woman, too?” She frowned, as though thinking hard.

  He got a mental flash of Sarah the night before, all creamy skin set off by that sweet white lace bra…

  With a metal ring pushing against the fabric.

  “Um. Not being a woman, I can’t say for sure.” He swallowed, shaking his head. “But I would assume so, yeah.”

  “Hmm.” She pursed her lips, thinking it over, then nodded. “Not that I’m…well, I’m not the kind of woman to do that. But…it’s interesting.”

  One long look up from beneath her lashes, and one sweet, slightly embarrassed smile. “Thank you for…for everything. I had fun.”

  And then she was gone, heading up the street at a pace so brisk it seemed she thought someone was chasing her.

  Cian stood where he was, outside the door of Wild Irish, for a good five minutes, looking the way she’d gone, even after he could no longer see her.

  Would a piercing like that feel good on a woman, too?

  The Yank was innocent, sweet, and surprising as hell. And yet he was pretty sure that once she broke out of her shell, she was going to be more wild than either of them could ever imagine.

  …

  When Sarah left the pub, it was in a very different daze than the one assaulting her the previous day. Now, fully awake, she burned with the passion Cian awoke in her with one single, devastating kiss.

  Of course, it had been a bit more than kissing.

  She was lucky the night air was so cool, and that there weren’t many streetlights on the way back to her flat. Otherwise, someone might see her beet-red face and assume that she’d been doing…what she’d been doing.

  It hadn’t been her fault! When Sarah gave the man his winning kiss, she hadn’t meant for it to go so far.

  But in a strange way, she didn’t regret it. Not one bit. Instead, she found a small smile playing about her lips. That smile grew larger and larger as her heart started to race, and once she found herself back in her flat, she had to take a seat and calm herself down.

  Sarah had no idea why, but her gloriously attractive landlord wanted her. Her. Predictable, reliable, sweet Sarah, the girl who never, ever would have dreamed of dating, kissing, or sleeping with a man like Cian—simply because she’d never, ever imagined that sh
e had anything interesting enough about her to attract one. She’d always chosen safe men, and now that she’d met Cian, she thought she was maybe starting to see why.

  The one thing in her life she’d been passionate about was art, and she’d wanted so badly to create it. Listening to her parents and abandoning that dream had felt like losing a limb.

  Being with someone she could actually fall for, someone who inspired that same passion that art did, left her open to hurt once more.

  If you loved art so much, why did you let yourself be talked out of it?

  Well, that was the question, wasn’t it? Tugging on a thick strand of her hair, she frowned. She didn’t really have an answer, other than the fact that she’d been raised to be sweet and obedient, to live her life in a certain way. A way that meant having a sensible job instead of chasing a dream.

  A way that probably wouldn’t include what would surely be wild sex with an equally wild Irishman.

  Are you really going to do this again?

  With a sigh, Sarah shook her head, jarring herself from her thoughts. The past was the past. She’d come here to discover who Sarah was.

  And who said she had to pass up something she really wanted to do that? She shivered at the warmth that blossomed through her body when she remembered Cian’s words to her.

  When she was ready, he would be waiting.

  Sarah didn’t think she’d ever be ready for someone like Cian. Not for lack of fantasizing. The man was one tall glass of something, and that was putting it mildly. In all honesty, Sarah would like nothing more than to run her hands over the tattoos he concealed beneath his clothes. She would take immense pleasure in watching his face as her lips roved his chest and shoulders. In fact, she’d take even greater pleasure in having the man in her bed to finish what they might have started the previous evening.

  She was embarrassed to even think it, but she wanted to see what he would do with one of his nipple rings under her tongue.

  At a loud knock on the front door, Sarah jumped, shocked out of her fantasy. Straightening clothes mussed by her intimate encounter with Cian in the pub, she made her way to the door, wondering who on earth might be calling. She didn’t know anyone in town yet, unless you counted Marjorie and her grandson.

  When she opened the door, however, there was no kindly middle-aged woman standing on her doorstep. Instead, there was a bleached blonde with an excited smile, holding a covered ceramic dish. Sarah vaguely recognized her from earlier that day—she had been working in a shop across the street from the flat, one that sold crystals and spiritual literature.

  “Evening.” She beamed at Sarah, her hazel gaze outgoing and friendly. Was it just Sarah, or did everyone in Ceanmore seem freakishly attractive? “I hope it’s not too late to visit. I saw you coming home and decided to pop over to say hello.” She raised the ceramic container to wave it temptingly. “I’ve brought chocolate raspberry cake. My gran’s secret recipe.”

  Sarah groaned.

  Cake. How on earth could she eat cake after a gigantic meal and all those French fries on top of it? The Sarah of a month prior would have politely declined. Currently, however, she gave in to temptation and merely smiled nervously at her guest, inviting her inside. At least if she had company, she wouldn’t be alone to dwell on her recent encounter with Cian Murphy.

  “I’m terribly sorry to burst in like this.” The blonde set the cake on the coffee table in the sitting room. “I just finished work myself, so I saw an opportunity. Where’s your kitchen?”

  Sarah might have protested, but the woman’s earnest personality filled the room with its buoyancy, so she could only point weakly across the hall.

  “Lovely.” Just like that, the visitor disappeared, and Sarah listened to her putter around the kitchen as she found plates and forks. A moment later, there came the clatter of a kettle against the stovetop.

  “I’ve brought some tea as well. Nothing like a nice cuppa with something sweet.”

  For the second time that day, Sarah found herself caught completely off guard by the courtesy of her neighbors. It was baffling how different things were in Ceanmore compared to her hometown.

  Within five minutes, her neighbor reappeared, carrying a tray laden with two plates and forks, a large ceramic teapot, and two teacups. “Here we are.” Beaming, the blonde set the tray on the coffee table before removing the top from the dish she brought with her. Inside was a gorgeous chocolate confection that made Sarah’s mouth water, even though she had eaten a few hours earlier. With little ceremony, the newcomer used a knife to cut two large slices of the cake before serving one to Sarah.

  In her own home.

  “Thank you very much.” She accepted her plate with a smile as her guest poured her tea. “Though, you really didn’t have to go through all this trouble.” Tucking a stray strand of hair out of her way, she decided to introduce herself. “I’m Sarah Mercer, by the way.”

  Almost immediately, her guest’s eyes widened in alarm. “Oh, dear Lord above, I’m sorry! I got ahead of myself. Barging into someone’s home without even introducing myself.” She made a face and Sarah couldn’t help but laugh at her obvious fluster. “I’m Nell O’Byrne.” Once she finished pouring her tea, she extended a hand. “Very pleased to meet you.”

  “The pleasure is mine.” Sarah took her hand without hesitation. “You’re the one serving me tea, after all.”

  “Please.” Nell waved her off before taking a seat beside her on the sofa. “This is just being neighborly, isn’t it?”

  If this was just being neighborly in Ireland, Sarah found herself wondering why the hell she hadn’t come sooner. “It’s so nice to have some new blood in this town.” Taking a bite of her cake, Nell hummed in satisfaction. “Sometimes I’m convinced the world has forgotten us.”

  “Really?” Arching a brow, Sarah tasted the cake for herself and was momentarily distracted by the velvety chocolate texture. “Everyone here has been amazing to me. Far nicer than any other place I’ve been to.”

  Nell laughed before sipping her tea. “You’re so sweet. Ainsley said you were nice.”

  Sarah felt her cheeks heating. “Ainsley said that?”

  “One of the best judges of character in town, that one. I’ve known her since we were about this big.” She gestured low to the floor with her fork, beaming. “And she thinks very highly of you.”

  Sarah didn’t know how well she could justify that assessment. After all, she’d spoken perhaps a handful of words to the woman since she arrived in Ceanmore. For all Ainsley knew, Sarah could be an ax murderer.

  All right, so maybe that was a bit of a stretch. “Well, she was very kind to me at the pub. She and Cian.”

  Damnit. Why did she have to go mentioning Cian? She could hardly talk rationally about him now, when she could still taste him on her lips.

  At the mere mention of the man’s name, Nell’s expression turned teasing. “I’ll just bet he was. I caught him watching you go in this afternoon.”

  Sarah’s eyes widened. She what?

  Nell went on. “He was outside dumping the rubbish when you arrived. You should have seen the way he looked at your bum.”

  The Yank with the great bum. “I….he was staring at my butt!?”

  “Among other things.” While this line of conversation both shocked and mortified Sarah, Nell seemed to be having the time of her life. “He’s got stars in his eyes for you. I saw it.”

  Despite how embarrassed she was, Sarah couldn’t deny the small thrill of pride that rose in her at Nell’s revelation. Cian had been staring at her?

  But that didn’t mean she had to play into the dialogue. She was supposed to be a responsible adult, and that meant sticking to the plan she’d made for herself, regardless of any handsome, tattooed, mouth-watering Irishman who stepped into her path. Taking a deep breath, she voiced her opinion.

  “Well, I hate to burst his bubble, but I came here to concentrate on bettering myself.” She took a long sip of her tea, relishing the ea
rthy, herbal taste. “I just got out of a relationship. I hardly need to be messing around with anyone new just now.”

  But Nell didn’t seem to have heard her. She leaned back against the couch, a dreamy expression on her face. “I wish I were as brave as you, jetting off to another country for a sordid affair. Having a stranger sweep me off my feet—”

  “Hold on a second!” Sarah interjected, her face heating in slight embarrassment. Was that the aura she was giving off? Someone drunk on adventure, looking for a good time? “I’m not looking for a sordid affair. In fact, I hardly think it’s appropriate, considering the timing.”

  “Why isn’t it appropriate?” Nell’s sudden, earnest question caught her completely off guard.

  Sarah opened her mouth, then shut it, then opened it again as she vainly searched for an answer. Just one minute prior, all the answers had been on the tip of her tongue. She’d been more than ready to explain precisely why she would never be ready for a man like Cian Murphy, regardless of how long he said he’d be waiting for her. She had a laundry list of reasons tucked right at the forefront of her mind.

  But now, she couldn’t say any of them. While they sounded perfectly fine in her mind, they would sound completely insubstantial in the context of the girlish conversation she was having with Nell. A conversation that, despite herself, she was enjoying. “Well…I…you see…there’s…”

  “Oh, Come on, Sarah.” Nell grinned in encouragement. “You’re a consenting adult, and so is Cian. If you’re both in agreement, what’s so awful about it? There are few problems in the world a little horizontal tango can’t cure.”

  Nell meant well. And Sarah couldn’t say she was completely wrong. When Cian kissed her, she immediately forgot all her other problems. In fact, she forgot about everything but how his mouth felt on hers—and how she wanted him more badly than she had ever wanted anything.

  Therein lay the problem. “But…I barely know Cian! We’ve only had a few conversations, at most.”

  Plus a couple of steamy lip-locks.

  At that excuse, Nell perked up even more, cutting herself a second slice of cake. “What do you want to know? I’ve known him since he was a wee tyke. Ainsley and I used to follow after him like it was our life’s mission.” She giggled at the memory, and Sarah’s eyes widened at the unique opportunity that had presented itself.