Page 38 of Beer & Broomsticks
“Fine, but only because I want to, yeah?”
He lowered his lips to hers, and the first taste of her mouth was ambrosia. Sweet. Addictive. Better than he ever remembered even in his wildest dreams. His heart took flight, circling above, never wanting to touch down again. And his desire for her, never far from the surface, made itself known in the throbbing of his cock. He groaned as she pressed fully against him, her hips reaching for his and sending his eyes rolling back to greet his brain matter in ecstasy.
No one had ever had the ability to make him burn like her. To send his pulse racing to such a degree he feared a heart attack. To drive him to abandon all sense of time, space, and location and give into the need to take her on the spot.
Only Bridget.
His one true love.
She trailed one hand down his chest to his stomach, and farther still, cupping him through his suddenly uncomfortably tight jeans. Ruairí groaned into her mouth as she rubbed him.
Just as he would’ve teleported them to the nearby woods, the door beside them opened.
“Oh!” Piper’s light laugh turned naughty. “Should I offer you two a room?”
“I’d be grateful—”
Bridget laughed as she slapped a hand over his mouth. “We aren’t there yet, and he bleedin’ well knows it. Thank you, all the same.”
“Offer stands if you change your mind. You’ve seen the size of this place. I wouldn’t hear a thing.” Piper gave them an impish smile then handed Ruairí a ring. “Consider this your free pass beyond the wards. Come on in. We were about to have tea.”
As they followed her down the hall to the grand salon, he leaned in to whisper to Bridget, “With the way your hand was caressing me, itfeltlike we were there, to be sure.”
She snorted a laugh, and his day became brighter.
As they rounded the corner into the room, he sucked in a deep breath, relieved to see the hearth was just as it had been but with a newer surround. “It’s still here.”
“It’s why I messaged you.” She looked up at him with soft eyes that seemed lighter in color. “All is not lost.”
Piper left them alone on the pretext of making tea, and Ruairí took full advantage of the fact by drawing Bridget in for another bone-melting kiss. When they separated, her cheeks were as rosy as her lips, and her eyes had a welcoming sparkle.
“Show me,” he said.
And because she knew what he wanted, she led him to the fireplace, pulled out her cellphone and hit the torch button, then ducked inside. Sandwiched together, they found the original inscription.
“This encapsulates all we were, all we can still be,mo ghrá.” He settled an arm around her shoulders and rested his cheek on the crown of her silky soft hair. “Can you not feel the magic here, in this place?”
“I thought I did. Earlier.”
The little bit of light was enough to illuminate her face, and seeing her awe was enough to set his heart to hammering. If she felt the blossoming of magic, did it mean Loman experienced a draining? How desperate would his uncle become?
“Tell me about it,” he ordered softly.
“Isn’t much to tell.” She shrugged and looked up at him. “I had just sent you the text, and my fingers began to tingle. Thought I was having a stroke, I did.”
He laughed. “Sure, and ya didn’t!”
She joined him in his amusement. “Well, maybe not truly. But the spark was there, Ruairí.”
“What were you doing at the time?”
Frowning, she looked as if she were trying to recall. Her expression cleared and became one of stunned amazement, and she reached out to touch their hand-written names. “Thinking about us. About starting over.”
“Maybe that’s the key, then. Maybe you just need to let love back into your heart, Bridg. Let me back in.”
She bit her lip and nodded slowly, as if perhaps she had come to the same conclusion.
“I’ll be here when you’re ready,” he promised. “As long as it takes.”
