“I have to run, Reeve. Thanks for the call. It was good to hear from you.”
“Wait. Where do you live, you know, if I decided to come there.”
She chuckled. “The Emerald Isle is not that large, Reeve Leighton. You want to find me, you can.” She ended the call and hastened her steps to where her parents waited.
* * * *
Ireland
Reeve paused before the door of the bar with the old peeling sign over it reading, Paddie’s. No, not bar. Pub. It didn’t look like much to him but he could hear loud, raucous noise pouring from the establishment when two guys slipped in.
The sun had lowered in the sky, casting its warm golden glow all over the Emerald Isle. Focusing again on the door, he took a deep breath, ran his hands down his jeans, and made for the entrance. A final, deep breath and he drew the door open, stepping through. It was loud and packed. Waitresses moved through the throng with trays laden with drinks.
All the patrons faced a wall which held a large screen television. It seemed the moment the door banged behind him closed, everyone in there stood, raised their glasses and began to sing.
As they belted out the words to a song about Ireland, he scanned the crowd for Affrica. His heart caught when, for one verse, Affrica stood forward with another man and sang it aloud, followed by another rousing round of the chorus. It was a close knit group, that much was clear.
His breathing hitched as he watched her. He knew it was her. Never mind she was the only black woman in the room, but his body reacted in a particular way around Ms. Affrica O’Shea.
Not a fan of the man with his arm around her, though.
She turned to the left to speak to another, and Reeve groaned. Her hair was drawn up into some kind of clip, keeping it back from her face, only to have it tumble down over the dark green jersey she wore.
With a laugh, she brushed her lips along the guy’s cheek and waved for another drink. When the brunette server handed it over, Affrica’s gaze lifted and locked with Reeve’s. She cocked her head to the side and quirked a brow as she drank from the glass. His heart thundered when the perplexed look slid from her face, only to be replaced by a grin. With the ease he was accustomed to seeing her move with, she headed for him.
“Reeve Leighton,” she said, her accent so thick he almost didn’t understand her.
She looked deliciously hot. Besides the jersey, she also wore a pair of natural painter pants and black boots.
“Who’s the man, Affrica?” the one she’d been standing with asked, after Reeve reached her.
“Moira!” she hollered. “Get ‘em a pint, please.” The woman waved an arm, and Affrica placed her attention on the man who’d asked about him. “He’s my…Reeve Leighton.”
He smiled over how that sounded. She claimed him, and he, for one, was okay with it. The woman, Moira, handed him a pint filled with dark liquid with a nice smooth head.
“Thank you, ma’am,” he said.
“Och, yer a charmer with that thick drawl and such manners.”
He blushed and glanced to where Affrica was beside him. Her brown eyes sparkled with happiness and humor. This…this was what he missed. Just simply being in her company.
“Hope you like rugby,” she said over a cheer from the crowd.
Did he? Not really. But, then, he’d never really watched it. Not that it mattered; he was with Affrica and would sit through it.
She never waited for a response, just grabbed his hand and dragged him off through the crowd back to her previous seat. He took the seat and was ready to ask her what about her, when she wedged between him and the counter. Christ, the feel of her ass against his crotch damn near had him panting.
He shifted on the seat, placed his drink on the bartop by hers then settled his hands along the tuck of her waist. She didn’t pull away nor did she look at him. She cheered along with everyone else at the game. Her voice loud and rowdy. The words may have been beyond his recognition but again, he didn’t care.
During the halftime break, he leaned in close when he grabbed his drink again. He brushed his lips along the shell of her ear as he slid his free hand around her midsection. She leaned back into him, resting her head against his shoulder.
“Not too bad for ya, is it?”
Another brush of his lips. “Not at all.”
He was enjoying himself. Affrica was a joy to watch. She really got into the game.
She rotated her head, and when he did the same, she kissed him square. Her taste—tinged with the added hint of Guinness she’d been drinking—flooded him as her tongue surged into his mouth. His growl erupted as his fingers dug into her side, anchoring her to him. Fire raged within him. All he wanted to do was lay her down and…
The boisterous cheers around them finally sank in. They drew apart, slowly, eyes locked on one another. Hers swirled with heat and passion, full lips parted and a bit swollen. His cock so hard he knew she could feel it against her.
“Lass, this is not the place for that kind o’ behavior.” The man who had sang with her made the comment as he slapped Reeve on the back.
The twinkle returned to her eyes. “Sorry, Mick. Dinna mean to make ya jealous.”
“O’ course I’m jealous, lass. We all are. I want a kiss like that, too.”
A few more chimed in with cries of agreement. She sat up, and Reeve waited, unsure what would happen next. He frowned slightly when she got off his lap but managed to hold his tongue.
“Well, ya know me, Mick. I would except fer the wee fact I’m scared ta death o’ yer wife.”
More laughter erupted as Affrica patted Mick on the cheek and pressed a kiss there after. Reeve wanted to crow when she returned to his lap. She stayed there for most of the game’s remainder. On her feet, normally, but between his legs, so he was good with it.
At the end of the game, he still had no real clear understanding of the game but he had thoroughly enjoyed it. He walked out with a few of the locals after Affrica. Darkness was creeping in as he said farewell to the guys.
“I like you, Reeve. You’re welcome here anytime,” a large guy named Liam said with a clap on his back.
“Thanks, man.”
He waited for Affrica to finish her conversation. Leaning against the wall of the pub, he hooked his ankles and listened to her throaty voice as she chatted animatedly in Gaelige with her friends.
As he watched, he realized that he’d just had more fun with a group of virtual strangers than he’d had with the group of guys he’d grown up and hung out with. Tonight had been the most fun he’d had in a long time.
He shoved his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. Affrica waved to her friends then headed for his side. Her friends waved at him, and he withdrew a hand to return the gesture.
She slowed to a stop before him. With a deliberate perusal, she ingested him from head to toe. The half smile on her face sent what little blood he had not in his cock, racing there.
“Where are you staying?”
He drew her in to stand between his legs. “Hopefully with you.”
“No luggage?”
“Not with me, I have a room at the inn. O’Leary’s, I believe it was called.”
“Let’s go get your stuff.”
“Tomorrow,” he whispered before covering her mouth with his.
He nibbled along her lower lip before swiping it with his tongue. She opened beneath his gentle pressure, and he groaned in raw bliss as he was granted access.
Her arms snaked up around his neck, fingers entangling into his hair. She pressed closer, and he encircled her with his embrace. The restraint he believed he had slipped away, leaving him bare and near the line of recklessness.
“Let’s go,” she mumbled against his mouth.
When she stepped free, only to take his hand, he hesitated. Her hand felt small and delicate in his, and he was ambushed by a wave of wanting to care for Affrica. Permanently.
He fell into step with her and took in the quaint, small town as they progressed through the stree
ts, illuminated by soft yellow lights.
“Affrica?”
“Aye?”
“I’m really sorry.”
“Look, Reeve. Life is just too short. You handled it wrong. Let it go.”
“Something I tend to do when it comes to you.” He tugged her closer and crossed behind her so his arm lay along her shoulders. She didn’t release his hand.
“You’re always so upbeat, Affrica. Does nothing get you down?”
“A few things do. But I would say, as a whole, I am a very upbeat person. I have a wonderful job which allows me to travel and experience amazing things.”
She stopped and he followed suit. “What?”
“I live here.”
He glanced up at the rundown building before him. Two stories, brick front. It appeared as though, at one point, someone tried to paint them but now they were all faded. Surely, she was joking.
She opened the door and waited for him. He wondered if he could get her to come with him. The inn wasn’t that far away and, while small, didn’t look like a condemned building.
There was a door to the left and a flight of stairs to the right and back. There were two mailboxes on the left before the other door. Apparently, she wasn’t kidding. She took the stairs after closing the door behind them. A yellow light illuminated the stairwell.
At least the stairs are solid in appearance. At the top resided another door, and this time, she unlocked it and swung it open. He heard switches flip and anticipated the following light. What he’d not predicted was her place. It was absolutely gorgeous.
“Not what you expected, was it?”
Hell, no. “Not so much, no.”
“Well, we like that it doesn’t advertise. But I’ve done a lot of stuff to it, also.”
He gazed around her place, amazed by the interior. There would have been no way he would have assumed her place looked like this. Not from the outside.
Wood floors, which gleamed in the light, a stainless steel kitchen with marbled rose countertops. Beautiful wood furniture covered with quilts and bright pillows. Then, there was the photography on the walls. Astounding.
She moved behind him and slid her arms around him, pressing close. The softness of her full breasts sent blood pulsing straight to his cock.
He drew her around so they were chest to chest, enclosed his arms about her, and skimmed his hands up and down her back. Her arms wound up around his neck.
“Reeve,” she purred.
Her teeth nibbled along his chin, sharp nips followed by light licks of soothing touch. He groaned, closing his eyes and praying for strength. His cock throbbed with a desperate attempt to break free.
He’d wanted her since he stepped into that pub and spotted her. His need rode him hard, yet still, he hesitated. She didn’t.
Affrica stepped back and tugged up the bottom of his shirt. He got the hint and flung it off. Her rumble of pleasure accompanied her hands upon his skin, smoothing along it.
He tipped his head and opened his eyes to stare down at her. The look on her face was one of total euphoria. She lifted her head and he found himself drowning in her brown gaze.
“Affrica.”
Her answer was a coy smile, and her fingers drifted down to the button on his jeans. She maneuvered her hand into his jeans and curled her fingers around his shaft.
Shit!
Her gaze grew smoky, and he was immobile as her other hand tugged down his jeans to pool around his booted ankles. Then, his boxers fell as well.
She licked her lips as one hand fisted his cock. He locked his knees as she dropped to hers. The moment her warm breath caressed the head of his cock, he knew he was done for.
Chapter Eleven
Affrica stirred and yawned. A firm arm settled across her midsection, anchoring her to the warm naked body behind her. A smile lifted her lips as she replayed the events of last night. The numerous times Reeve took her. Or she took him.
She opened her eyes and glanced at that tanned arm. The morning sun streamed in through her windows. Idly, she stroked her fingers along his skin. This was nice, laying in bed with a man she lov…
Affrica stiffened. Where had that thought come from? Was she insane? Delirious? Perhaps, delusional.
“What are you thinking about so hard?”
Reeve’s deep rumble sent shivers throughout her body. Of course, the hardening erection didn’t hurt either.
“Nothing,” she lied. “Just random thoughts. Nothing important.”
“Mmm.” He nuzzled behind her ear. “Can we stay in bed all day?”
Rolling so they were face to face, she reached out and pushed some of his hair away from his face. “Sounds like fun, but no. What are you doing in Éire, Reeve?”
“Éire?”
“Aye. My island. Dinna get me wrong, I’m glad to see ya, but, I’m also surprised.”
He sobered. “Because of my asinine behavior.”
“Basically, aye.”
“I’m the middle child and a spoiled one, Affrica. I have come to the realization my life is pointless. I didn’t even know about what you had gone through over in Australia until Scott gave me a bare bones version.”
Tracing along his jaw line, she was amazed by the amount of distress in his voice. “Why would you have known, Reeve? Our lives are in two different worlds.”
He frowned.
“Look, you roam in the world of fast cars and things where money isn’t an option. More money than most would know what to do with. I spend mine traipsing through dirt, mud, snow just to get a picture. One pair of your shoes costs more than an entire outfit of mine.”
The look in his eyes cut her deep.
“I dinna mean to be harsh, Reeve Leighton. I just state the facts. Our lives are very different.”
His fingers trailed down her cheek. “I’m the only one of the four Leighton children who has no job. I don’t do anything.” He shrugged. “Not true, I spend money and use my family name to get what I want.”
She observed him in silence, unsure if he wanted her to say something. Anything. He removed his touch and pinched the bridge of his nose. She was mesmerized by his eyes and the thick lashes framing them. He truly was an incredibly handsome man.
“No comment?”
She gave a shrug. “I guess I’m nae understanding your problem here, Reeve. You have the power to fix your situation. Do something. Make your life meaningful.”
He flopped over on his back with a groan. “Like what?”
Such dramatics. She almost smiled. “What makes you happy?” He gave her a lascivious grin and wink. She rolled her eyes in response. “While I am sure you’d make a lot should ya take up escorting, would ya truly be happy?”
“Am I your escort?” He pinned his dark chocolate gaze on her when he asked that.
She propped up on one arm and watched him, determined to ignore the flare of heat in her body. “Be serious.”
“I am.” He ran his fingers over her arm and shoulder. “You have no idea just how truly serious I am.”
She wasn’t going to focus on that. “Would you be proud telling your niece and nephew what you did?” She placed her hand palm down upon his bare chest, right over the steady beat of his heart. “Would you be okay with them following in your footsteps?”
“God, no!”
There was hope, then. “So, that profession is out. What do you want to do?” She moved her fingers lightly over his skin, loving the texture beneath her fingertips.
“I don’t have a clue.”
She cocked a brow at him. “Nothing you’ve ever really wanted to do?”
“Help people?”
“Why are you asking me? I’m asking you what it is, not the other way around.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know, Affrica.” His lids drifted down, hiding his eyes from her. “I truly don’t know.”
“Maybe this is something ya should be thinking on. Go home, figure it out.”
That got him to open his eyes again. “Tr
ying to get rid of me?”
“Nae. I like having you here, Reeve Leighton.” She pressed a kiss upon his clavicle. “A lot.”
Another kiss was followed by another and another, until she reached his mouth. She loved his mouth, built perfectly for kissing. Something he did extremely well in her opinion.
Lying as she was, her hair draped around them partially blocking out the morning light. He didn’t move, merely continued to watch her. Dear Lord, she knew she was more than a little bit in love with him. Sure, it may not make sense but when had love ever done such a thing?
He was a completely different man beneath the cold, autocratic shell he donned daily to show the world. Like last night, at the pub. That was the Reeve she knew and enjoyed being with. He had a wicked sense of humor, and at times, she saw a sensitive side to him.
Like when he offered to be a shoulder for her to lean on after her ordeal over in Australia. She tensed and fought to shake the unpleasant feeling. Now was not the time for disturbing memories of Miles or what happened. Not when Reeve lay beneath her. So she returned her focus to him.
“Where’d you go?” His voice flowed over her, all dark and sensual.
“What do you mean?”
His hands cupped the sides of her face. “Just now. You were somewhere else.” Fingers threaded through the hair near them. “Where did you go?”
“Sidetracked for a moment.”
“Liar.”
“What do you mean?”
“You have a tell, Affrica O’Shea, and it’s a big one. You lose your accent when you’re trying not to show you’re upset.” He tugged her down closer, nose to nose, and mouth to mouth. “When you’re mad and don’t care who knows it, your accent gets thicker. Kind of like it does when you’re babbling as I’m thrusting my cock deep inside you.”
Her pussy clenched with longing as the erection he spoke of rubbed against her.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said, barely managing to get the words out.
“Answer me, and we’ll move on.”
She closed her eyes and exhaled. He wouldn’t let it go, she knew this now. “Bad thoughts about what happened in Australia.”
His expression sobered even more. “I am so sorry you went through that. I wish there was something I could do to take away those memories.” His thumbs stroked her cheeks as his fingertips lightly massaged the back of her neck.
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