Trying Sophie: A Dublin Rugby Romance

by Norinne, Rebecca

  I nodded, staring into eyes that were a deep slate blue, like stormy seas on a winter’s day.

  “And you hate pink, although I’m pretty fond of it.” He stared at my lips, covered in a light pink gloss, and I felt a blush begin to creep up my neck.

  “Yeah, like that,” he added, his voice husky. “Pink just might be my favorite color.”

  Unable to speak, I stared at him, mouth agape, and he shifted in his seat. Leaning close, he whispered, “That’s the Sophie I know.”

  With his knuckle he grazed the curve of my neck where it met my shoulder and I shivered. My reaction emboldening him, he brushed his hand under my hair and the feel of his rough, callused thumb softly stroking such an intimate, sensitive part of me sent fireworks shooting straight to my core. An overwhelming craving took over my body. My breath hitched, my heart accelerated, and his touch grew possessive.

  “I know you Sophie,” he whispered again and I felt the heat of his breath against my lips. “I know you and I want you. Every single inch.”

  I closed my eyes and fisted my hands on my lap, feeling my desire as a palpable ache. When his next breath fluttered against my neck, a low moan slipped out.

  “You want me too.” His hand slid beneath the fabric of my shirt to touch bare skin. “You don’t need to fight it.”

  “I do,” I croaked.

  “There’s nothing wrong with wanting each other,” he breathed against me.

  I tried in vain to fight the pull.

  “There is.”

  “No, Sophie, there isn’t.”

  I was lost to him, desire overpowering good sense. When he turned my face toward his, I didn’t fight it. I succumbed to the feel of his warm, soft mouth pressing lightly against my own. When I sighed, he smiled against my lips and took the kiss deeper. Shifting, he cupped my face and I leaned into him, desperate for more of his touch. He captured my bottom lip between his teeth and tugged, a gesture that pulled at other parts of me. The tip of his tongue slid along the seam of my lips and I opened for him, our tongues tangling. I heard his answering moan just before he pulled me flush against him and I went willingly, boneless as we kissed wildly, with abandon.

  The tinkling laughter of a nearby child pulled me from my lust-filled stupor. “Look mommy, they’re kissing!” the high pitched voice shrieked before running off with a cackle.

  I pulled away from Declan, my eyes open wide in surprise, his half-lidded with desire. Rolling my lip between my teeth, I swore I could still taste him. His gaze dropped to my mouth, hungrily, and a spark of longing passed over his features. With my right hand resting against his chest, I felt the erratic beat of his heart against my fingertips. With the other, I caressed the pads of my fingers over kiss-swollen lips.

  A moment, a week, a year. I couldn’t say how much time passed in silence as I considered what had just happened.

  “I win,” he chuckled, breaking the spell.

  “What?” I croaked.

  “You said no touching, no kissing. You touched me, you kissed me. I win.” He smirked with satisfaction.

  Technically speaking, he’d touched and kissed me. And not only had I let him, I’d practically begged for more.

  “Is this a game to you?” I accused, jumping from the bench.

  He shrugged noncommittally. “If it is, I’m playing for keeps.”

  He leveled his gaze on me and I felt the weight of that stare down to my bones. His legs crossed at the ankle and arms stretched along the back of the bench, he was the perfect picture of control. And yet that control is what told me this wasn’t a joke to him. Declan was ultra-competitive and never played a game he couldn’t win. He knew what he did to me, how he affected me. In a flash I understood: I was his prize.

  I stared mutely while the idea took shape and settled over me. My body trembled and my mind raced. I’d been so afraid he would lay me to waste if I let him in, and now I knew my fears had been justified. One kiss and all my walls had come tumbling down.

  “This can’t happen again,” I whispered, trying to regain a little control for myself.

  “Of course it can,” he answered, resting his forearms on thick, muscular thighs. “It should happen again.”

  “Why couldn’t you just follow the rules?”

  “I didn’t want to.”

  “But you promised!” I accused and he shrugged.

  “I lied,” he smirked, rising from the bench.

  “Don’t!” I panicked and tossed my hand up to stop his approach. “You stay right there.”

  He chuckled but stopped moving. “Fine. I’ll stand here, you’ll stand there, and we’ll have this conversation from across the park. Or,” he said, casually strolling three steps forward, bringing him within arm’s length, “we can have this discussion face to face. Where I can touch you—” he slid his hand up my arm “—and kiss you,” he added, tugging me forward and crashing his lips to mine.

  I kissed him back, desperate for him, but completely unprepared to deal with the bevy of emotions running through my mind and heart. Nothing in my past had prepared me for this. For him. My entire being was aware of him on a whole other level and it scared me to even consider what that might mean.

  Slowing the kiss, Declan tugged on my lower lip and pulled away. His arms wrapped around my waist and his forehead resting against mine, he whispered, “Oscar Wilde once said, ‘A kiss may ruin a human life.’ I think I get it now. You’ve ruined me, Soph.”

  I’d never given much credence to love at first sight, but I knew lust at first sight existed because it’d been with me since the moment I’d laid eyes on Declan. And that first, powerful bolt of attraction had morphed and mutated into whatever this deadly feeling was between us now.

  “If you’re ruined,” I told him, “then I’m destroyed.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Declan

  Sophie might try to fight what was building between us, but she couldn’t hide her feelings from me. Her body gave her away. It was there in the dilation of her pupils, the quick intakes of breath, the strong, heavy beat of her pulse in her neck.

  But there was something else there too, and it tugged at my conscience. Fear resting heavy and unspoken between us. Why though? She had to know I would never hurt her. Not consciously. But what if it wasn’t about me? What if her reaction was because of something, or someone, in her past?

  My gut churned and I felt a fiery ache in my chest, a desire to maim or kill whoever had put that fear in her. “Did someone hurt you?”

  The words were barely audible, but I knew she’d heard them when her eyes flashed with surprise. She gasped and she shook her head. Gripping my arm tight, she rushed to set my mind at ease.

  “No,” she answered. “Not how you think.”

  I sagged in relief, the air rushing from my lungs in a heavy gust.

  “But you’re afraid.”

  Sophie turned and paced. When she returned, she asked, “Why would you think that? That someone hurt me?”

  “If you could see what I see right now, you’d know why. You’re terrified. Of this.” I gestured between us “Of me?”

  I paused a beat, giving her the chance to correct me, but she didn’t.

  “Help me understand.”

  I was begging her to let me in and a small part of me was disgusted at sounding so weak and needy. But I was weak. Needy for her in a way I’d never been for anyone else. I was consumed by her.

  “Declan, I …” She stopped and marched back to the bench we’d occupied earlier. “Come sit with me,” she said, gesturing to the space next to her.

  When I joined her, she twisted her hands together nervously. Speaking down to them, she said, “I’ve heard the stories, you know. You’re promiscuous and I’m … well, I’m not. I’m a one-man kind of woman and I expect the same of anyone I’m with. I’m afraid you can’t give me that.”

  I started to say I could be the type of man she needed if she’d just give me a chance, but the words wouldn’t come. The truth was,
I wanted to be that guy, but I didn’t know how. I didn’t know if I was capable of it.

  “I’m not used to being so open, so vulnerable with … well, with anyone really, and it has me unsettled. But the most frightening thing of all is, I think I feel something for you. I didn’t want that to happen.”

  I knew she was just being honest, but her words cut me to the quick. From the moment I’d laid eyes on her, that’s all I’d wanted. The truth was, I’d wanted this girl my whole life. So yeah, I hoped she’d feel the same … eventually. And now that she was getting there, hearing her tell me how it was the last thing she’d intended felt like a punch to the gut.

  She stared at her hands again, and her long, blonde hair fell around her face, hiding her expression. I wanted to lift her chin so I could see her eyes when she spoke, but I stopped myself. If anyone could understand needing to shield oneself from that sort of intimacy, it was me.

  “I didn’t want to feel anything for you … or anyone for that matter. I didn’t need this sort of complication in my life.” She lifted her head and a sad smile tugged at her lips. “I don’t even know you, not really. And what I do know tells me I should stay far, far away. But this thing between us? It’s potent. And it terrifies me because I don’t know how to deal with it.”

  There were a couple of ways I could play this. The easiest would be to flirt and charm my way past her resolve, make her feel good about her desire … and then just make her feel good, period. But I’d promised her grandfather I wanted more from Sophie than just sex. I knew we had no real future to speak of, but we could have a wonderful now. I had to be okay with that.

  I slid my hand along the back of the bench to touch her, something I wanted to do so badly, but instinct told me not to. “The truth is, Sophie, I’ve been half in love with you since I was eight years old.”

  When a flicker of petrified alarm crossed her face, my boldness evaporated, and I rushed forward salvage some of my pride. “Don’t worry. I’m not saying I’m in love with you. Just that when I was a kid I thought I was.”

  That wasn’t what I’d just said, but I was trying to save face.

  She relaxed and my traitorous heart plummeted. I hated that Sophie had the power to destroy me with that small gesture of relief.

  My frustration getting the better of me, I lashed out. “You should have seen your face. You thought I was confessing my undying love and devotion, didn’t you?” I laughed cynically. “Trust me, you don’t need to worry about that.”

  I dropped my eyes to her chest. “Your luscious tits, yeah. I could love those though.”

  She sucked in a surprised breath and the reaction made me feel better, like my equilibrium had been reset. Like I’d grown a new pair of balls to replace the ones that’d disappeared when she’d been appalled at the idea of me having real feelings for her. Which, come to think of it, was complete and utter bullshit since she’d admitted she felt the same. True, she hadn’t used the L-word, but she sure as shit liked me more than a friend.

  Hypocrite.

  Getting angrier by the second, I soldiered on. “I already told you, I don’t know how to have relationships. I’m not wired that way.”

  “Declan …” She twisted her hands together again and then slid them up and down her thighs a few times. “I …” She fumbled for words as red blotches bloomed on her neck and chest.

  “Spit it out Sophie,” I ordered, pleased by her humiliation since it matched my rejection.

  On a deep sigh, she said, “I think you should take me back to Ballycurra now. I’m cold and I’m ready to call it a day.”

  “No,” I answered. “You promised I could show you Dublin and that’s what I’m going to do.

  Shit. I’d gone too far, pushed her away. I was a fucking gobshite.

  And that’s when I was struck with a moment of clarity.

  “Holy shit. I think I get it now,” I said, astonishment lacing my words.

  “What’s that?” Her question came out a whisper.

  It was a miracle she was still speaking to me after the way I’d just treated her. My gut churning with shame, I set my hand on hers but she pulled away, bringing a fresh stab of pain.

  “Why you thought I hated you when we were kids,” I stated.

  When she looked up at me, her face was a mask of confusion and her eyes were glassy with tears.

  “Apparently I haven’t really changed,” I continued. “Back then I didn’t know how to handle my feelings for you, so I acted out.”

  Unable to take the hurt in her eyes a moment longer, I dropped my gaze.

  “When I just said about how I felt about you—how I’ve always felt—you looked horrified … and … well, it hurt like a bitch. So I did what I always used to do where you were concerned and fought back. I wanted you to hurt too. I’m sorry for that.”

  My apology hung between us. When she didn’t respond, I raised my eyes to hers.

  “The truth is you drive me mad and I can’t stop thinking about you.”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. When she didn’t tell me to shut the fuck up, I pressed my case further.

  “I know we’re working on a deadline here Soph, but I’m willing to jump in feet first and see where this takes us.”

  I held my breath, watching the play of emotions cross her beautiful face. Surprise. Curiosity. Skepticism. Intrigue. Acceptance. She would make a terrible poker player with how easy it was to read her every reaction.

  She took a deep breath and let it out in a long exhale. Standing, she held her hand out to me.

  “Come on, then. You promised to show me Dublin.”

  I tugged her forward so that she stood between my legs and stared at our entwined hands for a few beats, in awe that I was actually holding hands with Sophie Newport.

  “Is that all you have to say?”

  “I think we’ve both said all there is to say. I like you, you like me.” She shrugged, as if this in and of itself wasn’t monumental. “I’m leaving in a handful of weeks which works well for you since you’re not the type of guy to commit. But that’s okay too because I’m honestly not sure we’re right for each other in the long term. So let’s just enjoy the time we have together. Have fun while we can.”

  Everything about what she’d just said was good. Excellent even. And yet, the way she acknowledged so breezily that this was just temporary did strange things to me. She was saying exactly what I would have wanted to hear from anyone else, but something about her offhandedness struck a nerve. I’d laid my heart bare, said things I’d never said to anyone, and the best I got in return was an offer of a short, meaningless fling? I knew that of the two of us, she was the one making sense, but I wanted her to be as caught up in me as I was in her. I didn’t want logic and reason. I wanted her to feel as if her heart was going to explode out of her chest every time she saw me. I wanted her to count the hours, minutes, and seconds until she was with me. More than anything though, I wanted her to want to stay with me, even if we both knew she wouldn’t. That she couldn’t.

  The logical, rational part of me recognized she was just trying to protect herself, which I could understand. Hadn’t I been trying to do the same—albeit terribly—when I’d told her I could never love her?

  “You’re thinking too much, Declan,” she chimed.

  Damn it. It seemed I was just as much an open book as she.

  I smiled up at her and stood, pulling her into me. Wrapping my arms around her in a loose embrace, I chuckled. “Just about all the things I want to do to you. I’ve got a limited amount of time and a very active imagination. I’m trying to figure out where to start.”

  When she didn’t shy away, I slid my hands down to rest at the small of her back. She fit so snugly against me, her body perfectly molding to mine. She snuggled into me and my cock stirred to life. When her lips brushed enticingly against the exposed skin of my neck, I growled low in my throat and claimed her mouth, pushing my tongue past her lips in messy, wanton exploration. Unable to hold back, I
ground my pelvis into her in a slow, sensual roll and she swayed against me in response. Trailing my lips from her mouth, across her jaw, and to her ear, I nipped the lobe between my teeth. When her hands fell to my belt, I knew she was right there with me.

  “Is that what you want? You want my cock?”

  In answer, she roughly grasped a handful of hair and pulled my mouth back to hers. The force of her passion surprised me, spurred me on. We went at each other hungrily, right there in the middle of Merrion Square, our desire trumping any shame we should have felt over our very public display of very carnal affection.

  “I want my cock inside of you, pushing deep,” I whispered against her lips as I rolled into her, the abrasion of the cotton of my jeans against my naked flesh sweet agony. “I want to feel your pussy clenching tight around me when I make you come.”

  Sophie snaked her lips down my jaw to the hollow of my throat and nipped at my skin. The sting from her teeth clamped on my flesh was perfect agony. When I growled, I felt her lips split into a wide grin against my throat before she pulled back and captured my gaze. Her lips were swollen, her cheeks flushed with desire. God, I wanted to fuck that mouth so bad, feel those plump lips of hers slip around the head of my cock until I hit the back of her throat.

  “Where do you live?” she asked on a throaty whisper.

  “Too far,” I answered, leaning in to capture her mouth. Kissing her was like a compulsion. Now that I’d gotten a taste of her, my tongue had to be inside her, tasting her, claiming her, showing her she was mine.

  “Too damn far,” I repeated, breaking away on a low growl.

  Even though all of the blood in my head had moved south to my cock, a small part of my brain still functioned. It was a 20-minute walk back to my car, then 20 more minutes of navigating through city center traffic before we’d reach my house in Sandymount. Five minutes to park and drag her ass upstairs to my bedroom. So about 45 minutes total until I could get her naked in my bed. Add another 20 minutes of going down on her until she was screaming my name as her pussy pulsed around my tongue, and it’d be more than an hour before I could fuck her brains out.