She Likes It Irish
Thank you for purchasing this Wild Rose Press, Inc. publication.
She Likes It Irish
by
Sophia Ryan
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
She Likes It Irish
COPYRIGHT © 2013 by Sophia Ryan
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: [email protected]
Cover Art by
Angela Anderson
The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
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Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708
Visit us at www.thewilderroses.com
Publishing History
First Scarlet Rose Edition, February 2013
Print ISBN 978-1-61217-813-4
Digital ISBN 978-1-61217-814-1
Published in the United States of America
Dedication
To my family for your love, support,
and encouragement, and to Kelly O
for your brilliant suggestions.
Chapter One
Randy fumbled with a key that seemed three sizes too big for the lock.
“Hurry!” Kristin’s hungry whisper in his ear and a squeeze of the bulge in his jeans proved the magic combination to unlocking the door, and the two burst through into his dark dorm room.
Lips fought to stay connected as coats were yanked off. Boots kicked off. Shirts ripped away. Zippers scraped open. Jeans and underwear tangled hopelessly at ankles then wrestled off as one. Amid the clutching and grabbing, one of them remembered to kick the door closed before the soon-to-be lovers fell naked across the unmade, extra-long twin bed.
Kristin grabbed Randy’s erection, stroking it. It wasn’t as big as she’d hoped, but she moaned at the thought of it filling her slick, hungry tunnel, plunging in and out, stroking every nerve, like his probing fingers were trying to do.
The tension in her body ratcheted up, and her body ached for the hard, sweet KO that would give her what she needed so badly that she’d hook up with just about anybody. Even her somewhat socially awkward classmate.
Now
, she screamed silently.
Oh, God, now!
“Condom?” they asked in unison.
“What?” Again in unison.
“Fuck!” Three for three.
“You’re kidding. What guy doesn’t maintain a stock of condoms?” Kristin sat up and pushed out of the sexual fog that had made her somewhat desperate but, thankfully, not stupid.
Randy shrugged. “I, uh, ran out last weekend. C’mon, we could still have fun.” He grinned and lifted his eyebrows. “We could do a sixty-nine.”
She paused to consider the idea then quickly shook her head to dismiss it. She needed long, hard dick filling her, not a flicking tongue teasing her. In the moment of silence before her dream crashed and burned, the dull thump of a deep beat called to her through the wall from the room next door.
“What about your neighbor?” she asked, nodding her head toward the sound.
Randy’s eyes rounded, and he looked a little scared. “You want him to join us?”
She released an exasperated sigh, complete with an eye roll. “No. Would he have condoms?”
“Uh, yeah, I’m positive he would, but it’s not a good idea to ask him.”
Kristin bounded out of bed at “yeah,” grabbed one of the shirts piled on the floor, and pulled it on. From the cluttered desk, she grabbed a mug stuffed with pens and dumped them onto the floor with the rest of the mess.
“Kristin, wait,” Randy began, but she ignored him and rushed out of the room, rapping on the neighbor’s door.
The pounding beat blasted out of the room at Kristin when the door opened, a god standing at the door with a ridiculously large dumbbell in his hand. The song commanded her to
look at that body
, and she did. Tall, ripped, glistening, and tight from his workout. Thick, blond, sun-kissed hair, a bit curly and endearingly unkempt, framed a made-in-heaven face. The man was as sexy as they come, from head to toe, made even more so by the fact that he wore nothing but boxers—green ones with red lips perched atop the words “Kiss The Legend” scrawled across the Blarney Stone.
A rush of lusty heat engulfed her body as his dark-as-dusk eyes gave her the same long, slow once-over before making their way back up to her face. Then his gaze tangled with hers, and she couldn’t move. Breathed in but found no air in her lungs. Heart pounded so hard she was sure it would fly out of her chest. Goosebumps marched over her skin as his full lips curled into a wide, sexy smile. The floor moved under her feet, and she stuck out a hand and grabbed the doorjamb to steady herself.
“Well, hello, darlin’,” he said in a thick Irish lilt that trilled across her skin like a caress and made her legs wobble. If his gaze hadn’t been holding on so tightly to hers, she surely would have toppled over into his arms.
She couldn’t stop the smile taking over her face. “It’s Kristin.” Her voice came out breathy and husky, and she felt her face warm at her intense and unexpected reaction to this stranger. But she kept her eyes on his as if her survival depended on it.
“What can I do for you…Kristin?”
The soft sound of her name on his lips made her go all gooey inside, struggling to remember why she had even come to his door in the first place. He moved a step closer, raised his arm, and leaned it on the doorjamb near her hand. The movement shifted his body closer to hers, and she could feel him, as if he was pressed against her. It suddenly became very clear why she was here.
Her eyes dipped down to the kiss on his boxers. Sex. Condoms. Her eyes rose to his again. He stared at her as if he was a heartbeat away from pulling her into his room and locking the door behind them.
She swallowed. When had her throat gotten so dry? Why was it so hot in here? Breathe, dammit!
“We’re mixing something up next door,” she finally said, nodding her head toward Randy’s, “and wondered if we could borrow a cup of condoms.” It had seemed like a good idea at the time, coming here to ask for condoms. Hearing the words come out of her mouth now, she knew it was a bad idea. Especially when a better idea had since formed, one that involved this Irishman pulling her into his room and using the condoms on her.
He blinked. “You want to borrow what?”
“A cup of condoms.”
“Randy needs condoms?” He threw back his head and laughed. Before she could respond, Irish put the weight down and stepped out into the hall. He took her hand in his. “Darlin’, let’s you and I go have a little talk with your boyfriend.”
“He’s not my…” she started and then realized she should shut up.
Irish smiled and led her back to Randy’s room, the empty cup dangling on one finger of her other hand.
Randy sat on his bed, dressed, his head slumped in his hands.
“Sorry,
boyo
. You want to tell the lass or should I?” Irish said, the grin on his face suggesting he wasn’t sorry at all.
“Tell the lass what?” Kristin asked, pretty sure she wasn’t going to like the answer.
“You have to leave,” Randy said, his voice thick.
She snorted with a laugh, but when no one else laughed, she lost her smile and stared at Randy. “You’re kidding.”
“No kidding,” Irish responded when Randy couldn’t seem to. “So, get your—”
She snatched her hand from his large, warm grip and stared into his sinful, devilish eyes. Her temporary interest in Randy was obviously a mistake, but she didn’t like someone else making that decision for her. Especially the Irish hottie standing beside her, smiling like he was enjoying spoiling her plans, and enjoying her embarrassment. “Who are you? The sex police?”
He had the nerve to laugh.
“He’s the RA. Sean,” Randy explained, finally finding his voice. “He enforces dorm rules.”
“What rules?”
“No women on the floor after midnight—it’s now twelve forty-one—and I kick out the women I see,” Sean answered.
The ones he SEES
. His meaning dawned on her and she shook her head. “Ah. So, if I hadn’t chosen
your
door to bang on—”
He nodded. “You’d still be holding an empty cup, but we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“This is ridiculous.” She tossed the empty cup at Randy, who caught it and cradled it like something precious. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Sean. “We’re grad students. Adults. We don’t need anyone regulating our sex life.” She turned her glare to Randy. He dropped his eyes to the floor—or to the cup again, she couldn’t be sure. She shook her head in disgust.
“Get your clothes on, darlin’,” Sean said, a chuckle in his voice that she found both endearing and annoying. “I’ll escort you home.”
“Thanks, but you’ve already been
too
helpful tonight.” She hoped her sarcasm wasn’t lost on him.
“Kristin…” Randy began.
She held up her hand to stop him. “Don’t even.”
Embarrassed to the tips of her toenails by this whole fiasco, Kristin rushed around the dimly lit room, tossing aside clothes, towels, books, and shoes to find her hastily discarded clothing, mumbling about little boys and their big egos, while the two guys watched quietly.
“How do you find anything in this dump? It’s a health hazard. Why don’t you enforce a rule about that, Mr. RA?” Spying her panties hanging on the lamp by the dresser, she quickly and discretely pulled them on, pretty sure she had flashed her pale cheeks to one or both of the guys, who were watching her intently when she turned around.
Sean held out a pair of skinny jeans that clearly didn’t belong to Randy. “Yours?”
She grabbed them from his hand and, as she pulled them on, a flash of neon purple winked at her from a pile of clothes. She dug in and pulled out her shirt.
Turning her back to her audience, she stripped off Randy’s shirt and tossed it onto the pile, wrinkling her nose at the unidentifiable smell clinging to it. As she was turning her own shirt right-side-out, she realized, too late, that she was standing in front of the full-length mirror hanging on the closet door.
Not only did she have a full view of Sean, but he had a full view of her.
His eyes held tight to her body, like a lion watches the gazelle he’s stalking. The heat of his stare skated across her skin, and she felt the fine hairs on her body stand up. His eyes met hers in the mirror and he grinned, making her nipples pucker and her pussy tingle as if he’d touched them with that smiling mouth.
Her heart rose high in her throat and she tried to swallow, but her mouth was too dry.
Oh, shit!
She remembered that feeling swirling through her heated flesh like liquid heat. It wasn’t simple attraction. It was lust. Desire. Pure. Red-hot. Hungry.
What was wrong with her? How could she crave this perfect, hot, gorgeous, sexy-as-hell man she knew nothing about other than his name?
This was not good.
After almost two years of staying away from men, two in one night had seen her bare breasts and her naked ass. One of them she never wanted to see again. The other she wanted to donate her body to.
Pulling her shirt on forced her eyes away from his, but did nothing to staunch the loud humming in her body that said, “Gotta have me some of that.”
Careful to keep her eyes from the mirror, she found her jacket near the door and put it on, zipping it to her chin. One boot stood against the desk, along with her backpack.
“I can’t find my bra,” she said as she stuffed one foot into the boot. “It’s pink, it’s expensive, and it makes my breasts look spectacular, so I want it back.”
When she straightened, Sean stood at her side, the matching boot in his hand. She tried to avoid his eyes, but they compelled her to look. So she did. They looked into her, holding her, devouring her. He wanted her, too!
A sigh purred up from her throat, but she swallowed it before it could leave her mouth. Taking the boot from his hand, she dropped her eyes to focus on pulling it on, then rushed to the door. She picked up her backpack and slung it over her shoulder as she looked back at Randy.