She Likes It Irish (27 page)

As she and the other graduates moved down the aisle to applause and cheers, she glanced into the crowd of happy onlookers for the first time to find her parents. She had been too lost in her own misery throughout the ceremony to look for them, and it shocked her how suddenly and keenly she needed to see the faces of people who cared about her.

She saw her father first, a head taller than most in the crowd, with his perfectly styled, still-dark hair shining and his normally tight mouth slanted into a smile that seemed to suggest he was proud of her. Standing next to him, her mother smiled through a torrent of tears. That her mother was crying was no surprise. What was surprising was her hand holding onto the arm of the much younger man beside her. A tall man, with squirrely blond hair, shining dark blue eyes, and a heart-stoppingly familiar grin on a kissably full mouth.

Kristin stopped in her tracks, slid up her sunglasses, rocked back a step oblivious to the fact that she was blocking everyone behind her. She stared at the handsome, sexy man beaming with love and pride at her. The man moved toward her with his eyes locked on hers. She stepped out of line to let the others pass.

Was it really him? Could he really be here? In the same room? Standing in front of her?

“Congratulations, darlin’.” Sean held out his arms and she needed no more proof, no more encouragement, and no more convincing that it was indeed him.

“Oh, my God! Sean?”

She threw herself into his arms, delirious at the feeling of having them so tightly around her. He kissed her and she drank in the comforting and exhilarating taste and feel of his mouth. Her body—and heart and mind—heaved a sigh of joy and relief. Everything was right, now.

“What are you doing here?” Tears of joy stung her eyes, and she couldn’t stop smiling.

His eyes sparkled, and his smile mirrored hers. “I came to ask you something.”

“You could have called.”

“Something this important deserves a face-to-face. But I could leave if you’d rather I call.”

She flushed at the memory of the last time those words were said. “Don’t you dare!”

He took her left hand. “When I left in August, you said you had to finish your degree before we talked about our future. Well, darlin’, that’s a diploma there in your hand, so I’m back to ask whether you still want a future with me.”

“Yes. More than anything.”

He blew out a breath as if relieved by her answer. “Then I have one more thing to ask you.” He kissed her hand and slowly dropped to one knee.

She dropped her diploma. Her right hand flew to her mouth and tears swam in her wide eyes, blurring her vision. “Sean?”

The room seemed to have gone silent, like they were the only two people there.

“Forever isn’t long enough for me to show you how much I love you, Kristin, but marry me, and every day I’ll be at your side showing you. I promise to be yours only—in body, mind, heart, and soul—forever. Say you’ll be mine, too…” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring, perched it on the tip of his finger. “…by accepting my ring, the symbol that my love for you is precious, solid, and eternal.”

Tears as fat and shiny as the diamond on the engagement ring rolled down her smiling cheeks. She nodded and managed to whisper yes as he leaned in to slide his ring on the finger of her shaking left hand.

He stood then and wrapped her up in his arms. She put her hands on his face and stared into his shiny eyes. “I accept your love, your promises, and this…Wow! This damn-fine symbol.”

He chuckled.

“I love you, Sean. I’d be honored to be your wife, your lover, your friend, your partner. Forever.” She leaned forward then, her mouth at his ear. “As long as I get to kiss The Legend whenever I want.”

He threw his head back and laughed. “You got it, darlin’,” he whispered, then pulled her into a long, languid kiss that left no doubt in her mind that she’d made the right decision.

About the Author

Welcome to love, picante style.

I began writing and selling short romances in college to support my bad habits…er, my weekend entertainment. I graduated to novel-length erotic romances in 2009 with my first book,
Hot Summer Fling,
under the name Toni Zuma. My first book writing as Sophia Ryan,
In The Bad Boy’s Bed
, soon followed and several more are in progress.

I write the kind of books I like to read: stories where sexual heat sizzles off the page and the characters fall into lust and love. When I’m not writing about passion, I’m indulging in it—yoga, hiking, laughing with friends over hot chile and cold beer, and watching the Sandia Mountains turn the color of ripe watermelon at sunset.

I live in the sunny southwest with the loves of my life.

Visit Sophia at

http://sophiaryan.webs.com

To chat with Sophia Ryan and other Wild Rose Press authors of erotic romance, join us at www.groups.yahoo.com/group/thewilderroses.

Also Available

One Hard Ride

by

M.M. Bordeaux

Amanda Sloane’s passion has been solely focused on becoming a well-respected, NYC art appraiser. With that appetite sated, she can no longer ignore her body’s carnal desires.

Tasked with authenticating an uncataloged Randell painting that could be worth millions, she meets a trio of Texas ranch hands who take her on an erotic ride imagined only in her deepest fantasy. Between ranch owners, Jake and Justin Morgan, and their ranch foreman, Luke, the cowboys ignite in Amanda a raging fire of uninhibited sexuality.

For years, the Morgan brothers have fought off their greedy cousin's attempts to take their ranch, including poison and sabotage. Now, Jake is counting on the elegant and sophisticated art appraiser to authenticate his grandaddy’s painting to stave off foreclosure on the family ranch. Awakening the big city vixen’s sexual hunger has his body ablaze with need and his heart yearning for love.

Can Amanda give up the intoxicating pleasure of her sexual awakening? Or is Jake's love unconditional enough to encourage her to continue her erotic odyssey?

Chapter One

Amanda groped for her ringing cell phone, knocking the alarm clock and her vibrator off the nightstand before she had the damn thing in her hand. She fully intended to hang up but made the mistake of checking the caller ID.

“‘Lo Sarah,” she said sleepily. “What’s up?”

“Time to rise and shine sweet cheeks. It’s eight fifteen on a beautiful sunny day in Manhattan, and you owe me breakfast. Get your pretty ass out of bed and get dressed. I’ll see you at Beans in twenty minutes. I’ve got a big surprise for you.”

The cheery voice was like a suddenly raised window shade, flooding the room with bright light. “Jeez.” She held the phone away from her ear. “How do you know I’m not already dressed? Maybe I’ve just come in from a two mile run.”

“Yeah, right. And I’m the Queen of Sheba. It’s just past eight on a Sunday, so I know you’re still in bed. The question is, where and with whom? You still seeing that blonde Viking? Are you at his place or yours? I would really love to see the mast on that man’s longboat.” Sarah giggled.

“Well, you would be very disappointed, just like I was,” Amanda groused. “And I’m afraid that relationship is over.”

“You’re kidding! After just a month? You two seemed like the perfect couple.”

“I guess things aren’t always what they seem, are they?” Amanda’s question dripped with sarcasm, but failed to breach Sarah’s optimism.

“I want to hear all about it over breakfast. See you in twenty.” The phone finally fell silent.

“Make it thirty!” she yelled, but Sarah was gone.

Leaning over the side of the bed, Amanda picked up the alarm clock and her vibrator, sighing as she sat the vibrator on the nightstand. It was frustrating to think that a battery powered piece of plastic could offer more satisfaction than a flesh-and-blood man. Why couldn’t she find a man who could unlock her libido and awaken the sensual being she’d always been afraid to reveal?

Wondering about Sarah’s big surprise, she took the vibrator into the bathroom for a wash-up and then took a quick shower. Scrambling through a drawer of lingerie, she selected a tiny thong in fine mesh trimmed in lavender lace.

She was very conservative in the way she dressed, except for her lingerie. Her one fashion indulgence was very erotic lingerie from high-end shops. The sexy panties and bras she wore, like her vibrator and shaved pussy lips, were her secrets, something only a few men ever got to see.

She slipped into the lace thong and looked in the mirror. She liked the feel of the thong on her ass and she didn’t have to worry about panty lines. She also enjoyed feeling the material of her skirts and pants on her bare skin.

She kept the small dark triangle of pubic hair just above her clit neatly trimmed and, as she adjusted the panties, she made a mental note to make a wax appointment.

The matching lavender bra clearly showed her nipples through the transparent cups. Her nipples were large, sometimes embarrassingly so. When she was aroused or cold, the tips grew even larger, tightening almost to the point of pain.

She slipped into a pair of indigo skinny jeans and a black T-shirt. A pair of sandals completed the outfit. With a quick dab of makeup, she was off to meet Sarah at Has Beans, their favorite coffee shop/breakfast bar, where the walls were decorated with photos of celebs the paparazzi had lost interest in.

Amanda made it to Beans by nine and immediately spotted Sarah at their favorite corner table. It wasn’t difficult. The neon pink mohair sweater she was wearing, which matched the inch wide strip of pink in her raven black hair, stood out like a beacon in a room crowded with New Yorkers dressed in de-rigueur black.

Sarah was an administrative assistant to Richard Patterson, Amanda’s boss at Peabody, Patterson & Cope. She was also Amanda’s closest friend.

In addition to Sarah’s day job, she was a modestly successful artist, specializing in male nudes. The paintings were very popular among gay collectors, including their boss.

In appearance and personality, Amanda and Sarah seemed like polar opposites. Sarah, with her full red lips, eyebrow stud, and streak of pink in her coal black page boy reminded Amanda of a new age pin-up. She even wore bomber bras, garters, and stockings under her outrageous fashions, unless she was painting. Then her retro underwear was all she wore.

Amanda envied Sarah’s wild non-conformist streak, which was coupled with a wickedly uninhibited libido. She was sure Sarah never let a man walk away without giving her an orgasm. Even if it meant she had to bring out the whips and handcuffs. Sarah’s uninhibited sexual lifestyle made Amanda’s lackluster sex life seem even more depressing by comparison. But she did enjoy hearing about some of the outrageous situations Sarah found herself in.

“Hey girl.” Amanda slid into a chair across the table from Sarah. “Love the outfit.” Beneath the mohair sweater, Sarah had on a cone shaped bra that lifted and pointed her breasts like a fifties-era starlet.

Sarah smiled. “So tell me all, sweetie. You and Sven are no longer an item?”

“His name is Arne. And yes, we are no longer dating. What’s in the box?” She nodded at a large box on the chair next to Sarah.

“You’ll see. I want to hear all about your breakup with Arne.”

When their waitress appeared, Amanda ordered a biscotti and cappuccino and they both ordered eggs Benedict. As the waitress walked away, Sarah asked, “Was the sex that bad?”

Amanda looked at Sarah in surprise then quickly leaned across the table. “Shhh! Keep your voice down.” She looked around to make sure Sarah’s comment hadn’t caught some patron’s attention. “What makes you think the sex was bad? There might be a dozen reasons we decided not to see each other.”

“Name two.”

Amanda tried to think of something. “Well…it might be…”

Sarah grinned. “Look. The man is successful, handsome, and has a killer bod. I only met him once, but he seemed nice enough. Maybe even charming. And he certainly wouldn’t dump you. So it must be him and it must be the sex. Right?”

Amanda blushed and glanced around again. “You’re right. The man has no idea how to please a woman. I haven’t had that many lovers, but I deserve more than a five minute grope and poke, even if it is followed by a sincere ‘thank you’.”

Sarah made a face. “That bad, huh?”

“Worse. The man doesn’t have a clue.”

“Any chance you could train him? He is damn good looking.”

“I don’t know.” Amanda dipped her biscotti in her coffee. “We tried three times and it was bad every time. For me at least.”

“Honey, three times in one night isn’t bad.”

“I meant three times in a month.”

“Oh. That’s bad. Did you tell him what you wanted? I mean, what you wanted him to do to you?”

Amanda blushed again, the glow rising from her neck and shoulders to her cheeks. “Well, I didn’t say exactly what I wanted. But I hinted around and even suggested that we try oral sex sometime.”

“And?”

“And nothing. I think it’s too messy for him. Doing me, I mean. The man is a total priss when it comes to keeping things neat. The second time, we were at his place and he put towels down so we wouldn’t get wet spots on the sheets.”

“What about you doing him?”

“He never even asked. He just wanted to bang, bang, bang, get it done. Come and go, so to speak.”

Sarah grinned and leaned back in her chair. “So this whole past month, you haven’t had an orgasm?” This was said just as the waitress delivered their breakfast. Amanda glanced up to see the young girl smiling. When the girl left, Amanda leaned across the table and whispered. “Will you keep your voice down? Everybody in New York doesn’t need to know about the sad state of my sex life. Or lack thereof. Besides, I’ve had orgasms lately. Just not with a man.” She paused and frowned. “In fact, I’m not sure I’ve ever had an orgasm with a man. At least not in the classic big O sense.”

Sarah leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Honey, you just need a good fuck with a man who will unleash your inner wildcat. Maybe I should set you up with one of my models. Seriously. Just for a nice fuck. No strings attached. With a guy who will do whatever you want.”