F*ck of the Irish (The Hard and Dirty Holidays #4) (2 page)

Chapter Three

Laurel

“I can’t. Sorry.” I shook my head lightly at Pablo.

“Maybe just coffee then?” He tried again.

“No, I don’t want to get involved with anyone I’m tutoring. What if it went badly and then you didn’t have anyone to work with you on papers?” Truth was I wasn’t interested in Pablo, though he was a ridiculously attractive undergrad from Uruguay.

He shrugged. “Never hurts to ask.”

I smiled. “True. I’ll see you Wednesday. This paper is coming along nicely, but work on your transitions, okay?”

“I will. See you then.” He rose and ambled out of my study room, closing the door behind him.

I breathed a sigh of relief and pulled out my translation work. With fifteen minutes before my next appointment, I could get at least a few words of my own project finished. I spent at least five minutes agonizing over the correct translation of a single word. The issue with translation from Latin was that it was a dead language, so there was no way to know exactly what feeling or resonance the particular words possessed relative to the total text. For example, the simple translation might be “blue” but a closer analysis of the text could reveal that the author actually meant “azure” or “cerulean” or something else entirely.

I stared at the letters until I had to lean back a bit just to get some context. I let out a short cry of surprise when I saw Eamon leaning against the door frame. How long had he been there? I didn’t even notice the door opening.

“Hi.” He smiled, dimples appearing in his cheeks. He wore a soccer jersey and jeans, his hair still wet from his after practice shower. It was embarrassing that I knew his schedule, but I was so attracted to him that it was painful. Watching him from afar was my only option, and I certainly watched every chance I got.

He ran a hand through his light brown hair. My chest warmed and the feeling spread through my stomach to the apex of my thighs. I squeezed my legs together to try and ward off the sensation.

Eamon was a player. Worse than that, my friend Claudia was head over heels in love with him. He was off limits, no matter how much I craved him.

“Hi.” I wanted to look away, but couldn’t. He kept me still with the weight of his gaze.

“So.” He moved from the wall and sank down in the seat opposite me. “Want to go get some dinner?”

“I-I have an appointment.” My voice quavered and was far breathier than it should have been.

“Mai Ling cancelled.” His smile widened.

“What. How do you kno—”

“It’s true. I just saw her and Pablo heading up to his room.”

My stomach twirled, like a sea of butterflies were shifting and circling. “Well, in that case I should keep working on my translation.” I managed to break his gaze and stared down at my notebook.

“You have to eat, Laurel.”

I closed my eyes, letting his lilting accent sink into my mind. The way he said his ‘l’s had my heart speeding up a beat or fifty faster.

“I do, but I can eat at my dorm room.”

“You’re inviting me to your room?”

I glanced up to him. He still smiled, his eyes full of mischief. I caught the scent of his aftershave and my nipples hardened. He glanced down, no doubt noticing them through my t-shirt.
Oh, god.

I pulled my jacket tighter around me and threw my notebook into my backpack. “I should go.”

“Your place it is, then.”

I stood and pulled my backpack on. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know, but a bloke can hope, right?” He rose and took his position in the doorframe again. He wasn’t threatening – though just the thought of him threatening me had my pussy heating and growing wet – only casually blocking my way.

I walked to him, facing him with a bravado I didn’t feel. “I need to get back. So, if you’ll excuse me…”

He didn’t move as my words trailed off and I met his eyes again. They burned, our bodies too close, the heat radiating from him and into me. His scent, his skin so close.

“Let me buy you dinner.” He reached out and straightened the collar on my jacket, his fingertips grazing my skin.

I closed my eyes from the softness of his touch, though I wanted it much, much rougher. I’d imagined him inside me, fucking me from behind, eating my pussy, giving it to me rough up against a wall – any possible scenario – for months. Once Claudia was asleep, I would touch myself and think about Eamon, his body mastering mine, holding me down, giving me every inch. Color burst in my cheeks and I studied my feet, worried Eamon might somehow be able to read my thoughts.

“I can’t go to dinner with you.”

He stroked his finger along my chin until I looked up at him.

“Why not?” He leaned toward me, too close.

“You know why. Claudia.”

“Don’t worry about her.” He came ever closer, our breaths mingling.

I wish I didn’t have to worry about her, but she was obsessed with Eamon. Even though she’d brought home plenty of other guys since her initial hookup with him, she still went on and on about how he was the one. “She’s my friend. She’s in love with you.”

“I don’t think that’s true. And I’m certainly not in love with her.” His lips were only a whisper away.

I wanted to taste him, all of him. I’d only been with a few men, but something told me Eamon would erase them all out of my memory. Chill bumps broke out along my arms at the thought. Ceding ground, I stepped back, though it took every bit of willpower I had.

“She would kill me.”

He tilted his head to the side. “But you want to? Go with me, I mean? You just won’t because of her?”

I bit my cheek to keep from giving him the answer he wanted – the truth – that I would love to go with him. “I can’t.”

“What if I told you she was out on a date tonight?”

I shrugged. “She goes on plenty of dates.”

“Is that so? Then how can she be in love with me?”

I’d asked the very same question plenty of times.

“Listen, all I want is dinner. Nothing else. Can you at least give me that or do I need to make a tutoring appointment?” His eyes flickered down to the desk and then back to me.

Thoughts of me bent over the table with him pounding into me from behind flittered through my brain. I shook them away.

Given the way he was blocking the door, I realized he wasn’t going to let me leave the room until I agreed. “Fine, just food, okay?”

He grinned. “Just food. Come on. I know a good little spot.”

Following him out the door, I was finally able to breathe. He’d stolen the air from my lungs, and I already knew he wanted to take much, much more.

We walked out into the brisk night together. I was hyperaware of him, his easy gait, his scent, the way his hands flexed to grip the door handle, the way he put his palm at my lower back and guided me down the stairs. I tried not to think about Claudia, about what she would say or how she would feel if she saw us together.

“I’ll drive.”

“No.” I opened my car door and threw my backpack inside. “I’ll go separate.”

“Come on, now. At least let me drive you.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and gave me the panty-melting smile I loved.

“No.” I stayed strong though my knees were turning to jelly beneath me. “I’ll go separate,” I repeated with more force. “Where to?”

“Fine.” He sighed and walked two spots down to his car before turning back to me. “Follow me. It’s a bit of a hole in the wall. O’Flaherty’s. You know it, yeah?”

“I think so. On the other side of the strip close to the thrift store?”

“That’ll be the one. Drive safe, Laurel.”

“You, too.”

He watched as I closed my door and turned the ignition. Then he got into his car and I followed him across town to the Irish pub. His home turf.

I fretted the entire way, though keeping his brake lights ahead of me stopped me from running any red lights, as I worried about how Claudia would take such a betrayal. She talked about him incessantly. They’d only spent one night together, one I’d walked in on. And then he was on to his next conquest, and she was on to hers. Still, she kept talking about him as if he were the one, even as she bedded different men at least twice a week.

We pulled into the parking lot, Guinness signs glowing in the pub windows and people walking into the bar for a beer or two. I was too young to drink, but I could eat peanuts with the best of them.

I studied my reflection in the car mirror for a moment and tried to ignore the heat that thoughts of Eamon stirred in me. I needed to keep this short and get back home before anyone saw Eamon and me together and reported back to Claudia. That would be a disaster. All the same, I finger combed my hair and smoothed on some lip gloss.

I grabbed my wallet and left my purse and backpack in the car. Stepping onto the curb, Eamon was already waiting and took my elbow, leading me toward the door. The pub’s rock music wafted into the night and a burst of laughter hinted at good times within.

His fingers were steady on my arm, gentle pressure leading where he wanted me to go. We entered the pub, the smell of fried food and beer on the air. A long bar stretched along the left hand wall and tables were scattered through the rest of the room. Two pool tables were in the back, men playing as women watched and drank. Eamon led me to a booth against the wall.

I sat and scooted in, expecting him to sit across from me. Instead, he peered down at me and ticked his chin up in a “move over” look. I moved against the wall and he slid in next to me. The room was suddenly warmer, my limbs heavier, my breaths conspicuous and loud. His thigh touched mine and I could have sworn there was some sort of an electrical jolt pulsing through me, sending a current to my clit.

A waitress, clad in a low cut tank top and shorty-shorts, walked up and smiled big at Eamon. His eyes were on me, not even looking at the abundant spill of cleavage the waitress was sporting.

“I’ll have an O’Hara’s. Laurel?”

“Coke, please.” I smiled at the waitress who frowned back at me.

She hesitated, as if wanting to speak with Eamon, but he never even glanced in her direction. His eyes were on me the whole time. I blushed under his gaze. He seemed to relax into the booth further, letting his whole leg rest against mine. All muscle and strength.

After an exaggerated eye roll, the waitress walked away and returned with our drinks. She bent over and slid my drink to me, revealing her cleavage even more. Eamon slung his arm around my shoulders. I should have shrugged him off, especially given how Claudia felt about him. But I liked it, liked the feeling of being under his wing, even if it was selfish of me.

“Will that be all?” The waitress straightened, apparently giving up.

“No, I’ll have Lou’s special tonight. Make that two. You like burgers, love?” He asked me.

“I, um, sure. Yes.”

“Yeah, so two of those, and bring some cheese sticks, please.”

“Got it.” She turned on her high heel and left.

Eamon squeezed my shoulder and clicked his glass into mine. “Cheers.”

I sipped my drink as he took a long swig of his beer. He came away with a foam mustache, and I had the craziest impulse to lick it. I smiled and stifled my laugh.

“What?” He raised his eyebrows at me. “Something on my face, love?”

“No.” I shook my head. “Not a thing?”

“Nothing?”

“Nope. Everything is totally normal.”

He took another swig, even more foam collecting on his upper lip.

“How about now?”

I giggled. “Perfectly fine. I see nothing amiss.”

He leaned in, the beer a mix of sweet and rich on his breath. “Care for a taste?”

My heart leapt into my throat and I stared into his eyes, the blue even deeper in the dimness of the bar.

He pulled me closer, his fingertips pressing into my shoulder. Before I could back away, his mouth was on mine, his lips firm and warm. I clutched his shirt as he pushed me into the wall, caging me with his muscular body. My breath was gone, stolen by him as he licked along the seam of my lips, asking for entrance. He slid a hand down to my lower back and pulled me against him, pressing my breasts hard into his chest. I gasped at the friction on my nipples and he plunged his tongue into me.

I moaned into his mouth, and he growled a low response. His tongue mastered mine, and he eclipsed any thoughts I may have had about propriety or people watching. There was only him, his mouth, his body, the heat he stoked inside me. Opening my mouth wider, I gave him free rein over me. He gripped my hair, tilting my head back and kissing to my neck. My pussy was hot and wet, and I closed my eyes, imagining his wicked mouth between my thighs.

“God,” I said on a heavy breath.

A thump sounded and I jumped. The waitress had plopped down a basket of cheese sticks, giving me the stink eye the entire time.

Eamon left a lingering kiss on my neck before straightening again and releasing me. He cut his gaze to the waitress and waved her away with an angry flick of his wrist.