“Oh, you think that’s a threat? You doubt my follow through?” he teases before ducking his head and sucking a pert nipple into his mouth.
“Eamon!” I gasp, throwing my head back into the pillow.
He chuckles then licks his way to my other nipple. I grab his face and pull his mouth back to mine, kissing him hungrily. As the kiss deepens, I hitch a leg over his hip and roll us until I’m on top. I sit up and marvel at how powerful I feel in this position. Bracing my hands on his chest, I lift my hips and then plunge myself onto his length.
“Fuck,” Eamon moans as I cry out.
I ride him slow and easy, but it’s not long before he’s bruising my hips with his grip and rocking me back and forth, up and down over him. I’m addicted to the grunts and pants coming from him. Knowing that he’s as wild for me as I am for him brings me to the edge.
“I’m going to come,” I gasp.
“Me too,” he grinds out between clenched teeth as he vibrates his thumb against my clit.
We careen over the edge together, crying out our release. I collapse onto his chest, breathing heavily and he slowly rolls us to our sides.
Tracing my fingertips over the intricate curls of his tattoo, I say quietly, “Tell me about this.”
“I got it on my eighteenth birthday in honor of my Da. This,” he says, circling a finger around the shield and lions, “is the Kennedy family crest. The rest is the Dara Celtic Knot. It’s a symbol of the oak tree and its roots.It represents inner strength and is supposed to help the wearer find wisdom in challenging situations.”
“I love that,” I tell him, leaning forward to press a kiss to the center of it.
“My Da always told me that being physically strong is all well and good, but if a man can’t find strength within and trust himself to make a tough decision, then he’s a weak man despite all the muscle.”
“Lucky for you,” I say, winding my fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, “you have both.”
Chuckling, he kisses me, while rubbing soothing circles on my back. I’m half tempted to show him just how much I appreciate all of those muscles until my stomach growls loudly, making us both laugh.
“As tempting as it is to stay here all day if I don’t eat something, I won’t be able to doanythinglater,” I warn him.
“That won’t do,” he admits, kissing the top of my head. “Food is fuel.”
I press a kiss to his lips and crawl out of bed feeling like a new woman.
* * *
Eamon left after breakfast, but not before a very lengthy and heated goodbye kiss that nearly led us back to my bed. With the play only a couple of weeks away, I need to buckle down and go through everything with a fine-toothed comb, and he needs to finish a paper without wanting to, as he put it,score the face offme. I love Irish slang.
I’m sitting in my sewing room inspecting the last of the costumes when I hear my front door open and a voice call out, “Hey Norie!”
Rounding the corner, I see Amelia setting her keys and phone down on the counter.
“Hey, Amie,” I greet her with a hug. “I wasn’t expecting you. Everything okay?”
“What?” She asks. “Can’t a girl just want to visit one of her besties? Why do you just assume something is wrong?”
I curl up on the couch and raise my eyebrows at her. “Amelia…”
“Ugh, fine,” the vivacious blonde groans, throwing her hands in the air. “It’s Myra. She’s so upset.”
“She’supset?” I ask in disbelief. “Last I checked, she’s the one that was being a royal bitch.”
“I know, I know,” Amelia says, sitting next to me. “She’s upset with herself and feels awful for what she said. And she doesn’t know what to do to make things right.”
“So, what? She sent you here to fix it?” I cross my arms over my chest, feeling like a petulant child.
“No, she didn’t send me here. I came on my own to talk. I love you both and it feels wrong having you two at odds.”
I sigh heavily and run my hands over my face. “Listen. I hate fighting with her and would love for things to go back to normal, but what she said was really hurtful. This is the second time now that she’s crossed the line since getting together with Mac. Eamon says he’s bad news and I’m starting to believe it.”