The Mighty Quinns: Riley (8 page)

His orgasm hit him like a bolt of lightning, electrifying every nerve in his body. One moment, he was rational and aware, and then the next, he was lost in an exquisite release. Wave after wave of pleasure coursed through him.

When it was over, he opened his eyes and found her looking down at him, a satisfied smile twitching at her
lips. With a lazy groan, she stretched out on top of him, nuzzling her face into his chest. “Forget about dinner,” she said. “I'm not even hungry anymore.”

“Maybe if we just rest a bit we'll regain our appetite,” he said.

“For sex or food?” she asked, looking up at him.

“Sex. And then maybe food.”

“Or food and then sex,” she suggested.

“So you're hungry?”

“Famished,” she said.

“Then I think we'd better take care of that right away.”

 

B
ETWEEN THE SEX
and the food, Nan wasn't sure that there was anything else in the world she required at the moment. After an hour of lying in bed, recovering from their rather impetuous encounter, Riley decided he needed nourishment.

They laid out an erotic picnic in the middle of Nan's bed, the tangled sheets serving as their table linens. Nan prepared two bowls with the pasta and sauce and Riley opened the wine and filled two coffee mugs.

Sex had always been such a nerve-racking experience in the past. She'd always wondered if she was doing everything she was supposed to do, whether she was pleasing the man she was with. But with Riley, there were no questions. It all felt perfectly natural.

Was this normal? Nan wondered. Had those others simply been the wrong person at the wrong time? Or had her inhibitions held her back from really enjoying herself?

“This is really good,” he said, twirling the spaghetti around his fork.

“It's not,” she said. “I'm not much of a cook. Pasta is the limit of my gourmet skills. But if you add enough Parmesan cheese, anything tastes good.”

“We don't serve pasta at the pub. We're meat-and-potatoes kind of guys.”

“Meat and potatoes and more potatoes,” she said.

“Yeah, well, if you can't decide what kind of potato you'd like with your meal, we give you three choices on the plate.” He pointed to a basket near her foot. “Can I have more of that bread?”

“I was going to make garlic bread, but I thought it best to leave off the garlic.” She sent him a coy smile. “I thought we might be doing some kissing.”

“And heavy breathing,” he said.

Riley set his bowl down and reached out to grab her foot, gently massaging it. “I thought this was going to happen, but I didn't think it would be quite so…intense.”

Nan breathed a silent sigh of relief. He'd been pleased. The five lovers she'd had in her life hadn't been particularly adventuresome when it came to sex. But she'd decided before Riley arrived that she wasn't going to let anything that happened in the past get in the way of what she wanted with him.

Now that their first time was over, she felt like a different woman. With Riley, she was free to explore her desires. He didn't know her well enough to judge her or to question her experience.

“It was good,” she said, unable to suppress a smile.

He kissed the arch of her foot. “I love to see you smile.”

“I'm happy,” she said. “I'm having a very good vacation.”

“We haven't talked about your snapshot. Did you decide what you wanted to do?”

“I haven't thought about it,” she said. “I came here looking for my mother, but I think I'm finding myself instead.”

He met her gaze with a serious expression. “Really?”

“So much of who we become as adults has to do with our parents. I don't remember much of my mother so sometimes I feel like I don't really know how to be a woman. I know it doesn't make sense because I am a woman. But there are pieces missing. And I'm not sure what they are.”

“I don't understand,” he said.

Nan looked at him for a long moment, her brow furrowed, wondering if she was ready to reveal something so intimate. “Sex, for one. I've had lovers, but I never really felt anything. I knew how it worked, but it didn't really make sense. Until now.”

“And what did you feel?”

“Free,” she said. “Completely free. I didn't have to think, I just felt. And it was perfect. I know it sounds silly, but it's important. And a bit unexpected.”

“I'm glad I could be of service,” he said, a teasing smile curling the corners of his mouth. He leaned over and kissed her breast. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“I'm not sure.”

“Well, I am. Sure, that is. I'm absolutely certain that I want to spend the next eight days and nights in this cottage with you.”

“Don't you have to work?”

“My brothers and cousin will cover the shifts at the pub. I have to sing on Saturday night, but you can come along for that. I'm completely yours. So, what should we do for your third day in Ireland? And please note, that spending the day in bed would be my number-one choice.”

“I think we should plan to sleep in tomorrow morning,” she said. “And then we should find a wonderful place for lunch and see something interesting.”

“We have food in the refrigerator and I think your body is very interesting.”

“I'm not spending the whole day in bed,” she said. “I'm supposed to go see things and do things. I have it all planned out.”

“And what were you supposed to be doing tonight?”

“A stroll through Ballykirk, exploring the harbor and then dinner at a picturesque Irish pub.”

“Yet, this is so much better,” he said. “Naked Italian picnic followed by incredible sex with a handsome Irish bloke.”

“I didn't come here for sex,” Nan said. In truth, she'd expected her vacation to be interesting and illuminating. But this had completely exceeded expectations.

He handed her his mug. “All right, then we'll stop doing this. Full stop. Right now.” He crawled out of bed and began to gather their clothes. “We'd best get dressed or the temptation might become too much to deny.”

“No,” Nan protested. “Come back to bed.”

With a satisfied smile, he flopped back down on the bed and continued to massage her foot. “Well, I'm glad we've gotten that out of the way, aren't you?”

“You think you're all that, don't you,” Nan teased. “Why do I get the feeling you've always had your way with girls and I'm just another name on the list?”

His expression clouded over and he sat up and grabbed his empty bowl and his mug of wine, placing them on the floor beside the bed. Bracing his hands on either side of her body, he leaned forward, his lips just inches from hers.

“You are unlike any other woman I've known, Nan Galvin,” he said. “And if you think I'm taking this lightly, you're quite mistaken.”

A tremor raced through her. His words were so direct, so heartfelt, that Nan had no choice but to believe them. And yet, she knew Riley was an accomplished flirt. Men like him could make a woman believe anything.

“And what will you do when I leave?” she murmured.

“You haven't left yet. And I expect I'll deal with that when you do.” Riley held out his hand. “Give me that bowl. And your mug.”

“Why?” she asked, holding the bowl just out of his reach. “I'm not sharing. I'm still hungry.”

“Trust me. This will be better than pasta.”

She handed him the bowl and mug and he set it on the bedside table. Then, he reached out and pulled her naked body beneath his, their limbs tangling in the sheets. “Time for dessert,” he said with a low growl.
He kissed her, a long, lingering kiss meant to provoke her passion.

“This is supposed to be better than my pasta?” she laughed. “Oh, please. I've had stale brownies out of a vending machine that were tastier.”

“You eat brownies?” He frowned. “How does one—”

“Not brownies, like elves,” she explained. “Brownies are little squares of chocolate cake, only better than cake.”

“That makes more sense,” he said, cupping her breast with his palm. He teased the nipple, rubbing his thumb over the hard peak. “There's this.”

“Still not as good as the stale brownie. But slightly better than two-month-old ice cream.”

He replaced his thumb with his tongue, sucking gently until Nan giggled. “Oh, now that's better. Now we're talking about caramel corn—without peanuts.”

“What is this obsession that Americans have with peanuts?” he asked, slowly kissing his way down her belly. When he found the crease between her legs, he slowly teased at it with his tongue.

“Oh, that's quite lovely,” she said, arching back on the bed, clutching at the sheets. “Tiramisu.”

He teased until she spread her legs, giving him complete control of her body. She found it amazing how uninhibited she became when she was with Riley. In all her prior relationships, she'd been afraid to expose the depth of her need, thinking she might push the boundaries of propriety.

But Riley had taught her that when it came to sex,
at least with an Irishman, there were no rules. And enjoying herself was a requirement, not just a possibility.

Nan was quick to reach the edge, but Riley had already learned to read the signs of her impending orgasm. He carefully brought her close again and again and each time, she felt her frustration growing. But it wasn't impatience holding her back. She wanted to know how far outside herself he could take her, how it would feel to completely and utterly surrender to him.

She tangled her fingers in his hair, whispering his name, waves of sensation racing through her body. But Riley took his time, as if he wanted to prove to her that he could give her something no other man could. She would remember him and their time together, not just for the places they saw and the people they met, but for this.

Again and again, she hurdled toward the edge, only to have him gently draw her back again. But then, when she thought she might never find release, he let her go. The sheer exhilaration was enough to leave her gasping for breath and she felt herself falling and falling. The impact hit suddenly, her body exploding into long, intense spasms of pleasure.

Nan couldn't think, and for a moment, she lost touch with everything around her, focusing on the contact of his tongue as he continued to torment her. Finally, she pushed him away, unable to take any more, her body trembling and her nerves electrified.

He slowly kissed his way up her body, then curled against her, his head resting on her arm. “You'll never
eat a stale brownie again without thinking of me,” he murmured.

Nan laughed, then turned on her side and playfully slapped his chest. “It won't be just brownies. Every time I eat dessert, I'll think of you. Crème brûlée. Lemon meringue pie. Three-layer chocolate cake with mocha buttercream icing. And memories of Riley Quinn.”

They lay in bed for a long time, talking and laughing. And then they made love again, this time slowly and deliberately, until they were both completely spent. And as Nan drifted off to sleep, she wondered if the next time she crawled into her bed at home, she would be wishing that Riley was right there with her.

 

M
OONLIGHT POURED
through the window of the bedroom, throwing a shaft of light onto the old quilt. They'd turned off the lamp hours ago and Riley had been left to look at her with only the faintest illumination.

She lay beside him, stretched out on her side, the sheet twisted around her waist, offering a tempting view of her naked body. He'd already memorized every beautiful feature of her face, every intriguing detail of her form, and yet he still wanted to just sit and stare.

He'd expected to fall into a deep sleep after another two hours of sex. But the exhaustion he usually felt had been replaced with a strange restlessness. He was energized, his thoughts more focused than at anytime during the day.

His mind whirled with ideas for lyrics and he pushed them aside, determined to fall asleep. Yet everything he'd felt and experienced that night had turned itself into
music in his head. It had been so long since he experienced a burst like this and he'd wondered if his passion for songwriting had waned.

But now it was back, full force, and he felt the need to express himself, to pour everything onto the page before it was lost. Riley sat up in bed and ran his fingers through his messy hair.

He was twenty-eight and fast approaching thirty. Most singer-songwriters had made a name for themselves at this point. And if they hadn't, they'd made plans for the rest of their life. But thoughts of Nan had also brought thoughts of marriage and a family. Someday, he'd want that, but the life of a musician made family life doubly difficult.

His parents had offered to sell him the pub. None of his siblings wanted to run the Hound and Riley seemed like the logical choice since it would give him a permanent venue for his music. But it would also tie him to Ballykirk.

He'd always wanted the life of an itinerant Irish singer. It had always been enough, until now. But was it enough to convince a woman to cast her lot with him? He reached out and smoothed his hand over Nan's bare arm. She stirred, then slipped back into a deep sleep. Meeting Nan had taught him one thing: someday, there would be a woman he wanted to spend his life with. And he needed to be ready to offer her a future.

Riley sighed. He wanted to wake her, to continue their conversations, to learn everything he could about her. Was she the one he'd been waiting for? How would he know given their limited time together? And what
if he let Nan leave, only to find that she had been the perfect woman for him?

Riley carefully rolled out of bed and pulled on his jeans. He walked, barefoot, to the front door, then slipped outside.

The wind off the sea buffeted his body and whipped at his hair. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to clear his head. A melody drifted through his head and suddenly, there were words to go with it. He slowly walked down the garden path to the gate, then back again.