Damn if he did want her again.
Chapter Four
“That was, um, nice,” Cassie said as she reached down to pick up her tank from the floor. Her body continued to tremble. Hell, that was the best sex she’d ever had. Not that her experience was vast. In ten minutes, she’d had more orgasms with him than she’d had even with her vibrator.
Crap.
She needed to get home to write it all down. The words he said and the sensations her body experienced, she had to remember it all. It would add so much more color to her work. And the reader would feel the sex.
Slot A and Tab B were about to get a whole lot hotter.
Liam was absolutely the most incredible inspiration ever, which was why she needed to leave before she messed things up.
“Nice?” He stepped back, throwing the condom in a trash can near the desk. His eyebrow lifted into that mass of black hair. It’d been so soft, her fingers running through it as he fucked the hell out of her.
I really like that word a lot. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Yep, every time I use my vibrator, I’ll be thinking of Liam saying those words to me. How he filled me so completely.
His eyebrow was lost in his hairline again. Oh, he didn’t like her word choice from before. “Um. Awesome?” she said. Words didn’t seem to want to form in her brain. No way could she think of the right ones to describe what happened. Though she’d have to when she sat down to write. “My brain is still buzzing. I’ve—that was—wow.”
“Better,” he said.
She scooped her sweater and sweats up.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“Home?”
“In a rush are you? Just using me for sex?”
Yes. You have no idea. Now the words came; she couldn’t wait to get them down.
“I thought we were done. I mean, most guys. You know, one and done. Time to run away. That’s what guys do, right?” She didn’t really have a clue. Sexy stuff with her lab partner in her dorm room had been nothing like this. It hadn’t even been sexy.
This was all so new to her. First of all, while it shouldn’t be about looks, just one glance at Liam had all of her parts happy-dancing. That had certainly never happened before. Or the fact that someone like him had been interested in her.
Ever.
Probably because you run around in clothes that make you look like you own ninety-six cats.
“I have some more exploring to do,” he said. Then he hauled her over his shoulder and kissed the side of her hip. “If you’re just going to use me for sex, I should give you the full experience.”
Oh. My. God. There’s going to be more.
“If you insist.” She gave a dramatic sigh. Of course, she didn’t mean it. The words could wait. The orgasms, not so much. And he’d given her two already. And she’d wanted to explore him as well. Every inch of his hard body. There were hints of tats, and she wanted to see the rest.
He gently slapped her butt, and damn if her body didn’t quiver with excitement. Who knew she’d really be into that?
“That’s for being cheeky.” Then he smoothed his hand over her ass. “These curves are killing me.”
It happened again. Dampness between her thighs, heat circling outward from her core. No man had ever appreciated her body. Not like this.
One night. That’s what she’d give herself with this hot Irishman.
For research, of course.
“Oh, and I do.” He flipped the bedside lamp on and then gently threw her onto a large bed.
“Do what?” She’d lost her train of thought again.
“Insist. As I said, you’ll have the full experience. I’ll not have you leave without it.”
“By all means, I wouldn’t want to offend,” she said.
Yes. Please. With you or me on top.
Whatever the full experience was, she wanted it in the worst way.
“Top off,” he ordered.
Damn. Two words and she was all melty again. Thanks to his skilled fingers and that sexy accent of his, she’d come so hard and fast that first time. And then again. Never would she forget this night.
She slid the tank off and threw it over the end of the bed.
Naked, she’d never believed herself beautiful. But there was grand appreciation in his eyes. The kind that wasn’t faked. He wanted her.
That made her bold.
“Are you going to stand there staring, or are you going to fuck me?”
“I’m going to do whatever the fuck I want to you,” he said, “and you’re going to thank me later.”
She had no doubt. “We’ll see,” she challenged.
“Knees up, and spread those legs. Let me see that pretty pink pussy I just so thoroughly fucked.”
Oh, hell yes.
Excitement thrummed through her. She did as he asked and then he knelt before her. When his teeth grazed the sensitive nub, she hissed. Then his tongue circled her, and she sucked in a breath. Glancing down, she met his eyes.
Her core tightened and warmth spread through her body. His tongue teased her over and over again, and she closed her eyes and arched back, unable to stay in control. Then he shoved two fingers in and pumped them inside her, hitting that back wall behind the pelvis bone, and she clawed his comforter, each flick of his masterful tongue sending her closer to the edge. He sucked her clit and nibbled until all thought left her mind and she was nothing but sensation and need.
Someone was moaning…maybe it was her.
There was a masculine growl and then the ripping of foil.
The bed moved, and he gave her a little push. When she opened her eyes, he knelt before her on the bed. He was completely naked, his ginormous cock thrusting forward as if her pussy had a magnet. But it was his body that blew her mind. The muscles in his abs were things she’d only ever dreamed up for her books. He was big everywhere, but not an ounce of fat on him. And don’t even get her started on the tattoos encircling his huge biceps.
I’m so fucking lucky.
This shit was enough to fuel her fantasies for a year. Maybe two. And the best fodder ever for her sucky book that was about to be a whole lot better.
She drew her ankles up, and he crossed them around his neck. Then he eased into her this time, teasing her inch by inch. He’d give her a little of his long, fat cock and then he’d pull back.
Sweet torture.
“Killing. Me,” she whispered.
“No more than you are me. I’m taking my time and savoring this tight pussy of yours.”
Call me a puddle.
Every time he said dirty words, her body shivered with need.
Craving more.
She understood now how people could crave sex. It had never been something she’d particularly enjoyed.
Until now.
Positioning his hands on her ass, he lifted her just a bit more so she could take him fully.
Thoughts were impossible, especially with the way he stared at her, almost as if she were some kind of precious gift.
No. She was seeing it all through a haze of the best sex of her life. Definitely reading him wrong.
His hands slid down her legs, and for a small second or twenty she was grateful she’d shaved her legs that morning, though she’d done little else to make herself presentable.
Men will fuck anything.
No. She wasn’t letting those negative thoughts take over. Whatever was going on, he liked what was happening. Liked her body. And was worshipping her like every woman dreamed.
He sank balls deep into her then held still, giving her a chance to adjust to his size. It hurt but in a good way. She was sore from earlier, but she wanted this. More than anything. She contracted her stomach, moving the little she could in the position she was in to show him she was okay.
Because words failed her.
“Give me a second, sweet. You’re so tight I could fucking lose my load right now.”
She. Did. That. To. Him.
Holy shit.
And then he sp
layed his hand just above her pelvis in a possessive move as he pounded in and out of her.
Sparks floated across her eyes as she arched her back, losing herself to the pressure building in her body.
A roaring in her ears and then an explosion of pleasure surged through her body, the waves of it so intense she saw blackness for a moment before she realized he was still fucking her hard and fast.
“Lass, you’re fucking driving me to come harder than I ever have in my life.” Then he was growling and fucking her like a man possessed, and the heat and tightness built within her again, her eyes rolling back in her head as she screamed, “Liam!”
He groaned her name as he pulsated within her, legs dropping to the bed as he fell over her, their bodies sweaty and sweet from lust.
Yes. This was what she’d been missing. A guy who fucked her so well she nearly passed out.
Clarity about why her writing suffered rushed through her brain. She could fix everything. Just from this one night, he’d saved her career. It took everything she had not to shout “Hallelujah!”
It seemed like a half hour before he pulled out of her, leaving her adrift.
Time to go. But for the life of her, she couldn’t move. Her muscles were drained of power.
“I need a minute,” she whispered.
“So do I,” he said, his voice a whisper as he disposed of the condom, and then he climbed into bed and pulled her toward him.
“Oh,” she said.
“Oh?”
“I thought it was time for me to go,” she said honestly. She’d never actually done a one-night stand, but she was fairly certain that once the sex was over, one of them had to go.
“Why are you always in such a rush to leave?” he said as he nuzzled closer. “I thought women liked a cuddle.”
She did. Who wouldn’t want this man’s strong arms wrapped around them, holding them tight? Obviously, he had more experience at this sort of thing. While she didn’t want to think about how many might have been with him before, the man had mad skills he must have practiced on someone. Several someones.
“Lass, you’re thinking too much. I can feel the tension.”
“I’ve never done a one-night stand, so I was confused about the protocol. I don’t want to outstay my welcome.”
He yawned behind her. “Protocol? You’re a funny one. Lass, I have a feeling I’ll never have my fill of you. Now settle down and rest. No need to hightail it out of here just yet. I have more plans for you.”
Plans. Her body shuddered in a good way. Though there were certain parts of her that weren’t sure they could take much more. But did she really want to walk away from more pleasure?
Hell, no. So she stayed. And he showed her time and again just how much she’d been missing out.
Besides, it was research.
Riiiiiggght. That’s why she stayed.
After two more rounds of mind-blowing, best-of-her-life sex, he passed out around four in the morning. She took that as her cue to go. After throwing her clothes back on, she caught an Uber and wrote in her notebook during the few blocks it took to drive to her place.
At nine the next morning she emailed new pages to her agent, knowing that this time she’d nailed it. Everything she’d experienced was on the page, and it had been the easiest thing she’d ever written.
Her monkey brain couldn’t stop thinking of a hot, sexy Irishman who doled out pleasure in a way she’d never explored before. It was addictive, but she couldn’t go back for more.
One and done. Well, technically, more like five and done.
What a night.
He’d saved her career, and for that she would always be grateful.
But there was no way she’d ever see him again.
Chapter Five
Liam woke more relaxed than he’d been in a year. The writer was gone, and he wasn’t surprised. She’d tried to bolt more than once throughout the night. She’d said he was her first one-night stand. Shouldn’t give him pride, but it did. Damn if the night had not gone the way he’d expected.
Nope. When she’d walked through the door, he had no idea the fireball she was under all those layers.
She was hot as fuck. And his cock, which was worn the fuck out, still wanted her.
Thinking she might have left her number written down somewhere, he checked the apartment.
Nothing.
Huh.
Maybe he was a bit disappointed. He was far from done with the lass, which surprised him. Usually, he had his fill and moved on. Women were sometimes clingy, so he thought it best to always be clear that he was up for a good time. Once. Then it was done.
Funny, how she’d said the same thing. Even funnier, how it bothered the fuck out of him that she’d just left.
He showered and dressed and then headed down to the bar to get the stew started. It needed to simmer a few hours before the lunch crowd arrived at noon, when the day well and truly began for the pub.
After putting two large pots of his grandmum’s special brew to boil on the stovetop, he looked up Cassie on his phone. Her website was filled with books about sweet romances. He couldn’t resist; he downloaded one and read.
It wasn’t long before he realized the pots on the stove were boiling over. He threw his phone down and then turned the burner to low. The stew survived, but he shook his head. The woman could write. He didn’t read this sort of thing, but he found himself wanting to know how the story ended for these two characters living in a small town in Connecticut.
But where was the woman he met last night in these words? She said she’d been working on something new.
Why the fuck do you care?
What’s wrong with me?
The lass had done him a favor walking out. He needn’t worry about her being too clingy, and for that he was grateful.
Finn showed up about a half hour before the pub opened to get the bar set up, and their part-time help, Laird, arrived to assist during the busy lunch-hour shift. It was Liam’s job to get the food ready for them to serve with pints and whiskey and their special brand of sweet tea, which was the best in Boston.
That was one of his mum’s concoctions.
Through the next few hours, he worked on the pub’s books, but every now and again, he’d steal a few minutes to read a bit more of Cassie’s story. It was sweet and interesting, but the passion he’d experienced, well, it wasn’t here. Nor was that snarky, hot mouth of hers.
Interesting.
He thought about emailing, but he didn’t. She was a sweet, sexy fuck. That was it. No reason to reach out.
Then why couldn’t he get her out of his head?
“Hey, wanker, we’re slammed with the dinner crowd,” Finn yelled from the office door. “Get off your arse and help me at the bar.”
Liam had lost track of time reading that damn book. “Be there in a minute.”
He washed his hands and headed out. He’d been working for a full hour before he noticed her in the corner booth. Her hair was down, and she typed on a laptop. Tonight, she wore a bit of makeup, and she was every bit as gorgeous as he remembered.
She’d come back.
His heartbeat quickened.
The way she’d acted, he didn’t think he’d see her again. Not that he wanted to.
Oh, who the fuck was he kidding?
He poured two fingers of Jameson and walked to her table. She was so into whatever she typed that she didn’t bother to look up.
Clearing his throat, he sat down on the other side of the booth.
She glanced up and frowned. She noticed the glass and then looked at him again. “I don’t drink when I’m writing,” she said matter-of-factly. “I didn’t think you were working tonight.”
“It’s my pub. I’m always working. Why do I get the feeling you’re not happy to see me?”
She bit her lip. “I. Um. I came for the ambiance. True story. Something about this place, well, it’s helping me write. I hope you don’t mind. I didn’t want you to think I was s
talking you or coming back for seconds.”
“It’d be okay.”
Her eyebrows drew together. “What?”
“If you came back for seconds,” he said. And he wasn’t sure why. It clawed at him that she was more interested in her book than him.
“Oh. Well. Um. Again, not why I’m here. If it bugs you, I can leave. I probably should anyway. I’m taking up space.” Her stomach growled. “And maybe it’s time for dinner. I can’t remember the last time I ate. I’ve been writing all day. Did I mention I find this place inspiring?”
He jumped up. “Let me get you some stew. I put on a new pot after lunch, should be just about ready.”
Before she could answer, he turned away. What the fuck was wrong with him? She hadn’t come back for him. It was the bar. But that made him curious. And why the fuck wouldn’t she come back for seconds? He’d given her five, maybe six orgasms. Most women would be doing their best to get back in his bed.
Frustrating minx.
He put the stew in a bowl and then made one for himself, along with the crusty bread. Poured himself a pint and put it all on a tray.
“You going to take break?” Finn asked as he glanced from Liam to the booth where Cassie sat.
“Fuck off, arsehole,” he said.
His brother laughed. “Well, I kept my end of the bargain. Just wondering if you kept yours.”
Liam flipped him off.
She was back to typing, her teeth worrying her bottom lip to death. Tonight, she wore jeans and a soft sweater that molded to her figure.
He grinned. Yep. Definitely not some cat lady. And why had he thought her hair so dull? It shone like dark cherry wood. Must have been the lighting.
When he put the food on the table, she closed her eyes and took a big whiff. “That smells like heaven.”
“We think so.”
He sat down across from her and started eating.
“You don’t have to be nice to me,” she said. “I mean, I’m sure you have other people, or women, or whatever. That’s not coming out the way I meant.” She sighed.
“I get it,” he said. “You’re not a stalker. You’re only here to write. But a man has to eat, and I don’t mind having company when I do.”
Bet Me to Stay Page 4