Page 68 of On The Rocks

Callum opened the door of his black F150 and took my hand to help me up. “He will. He wouldn’t miss a biker party.”

Warmth enveloped my fingers, and my nerve endings tingled. These feelings were a culmination of almost a week of longing looks, soft touches, and flirty banter. It was no wonder I was wound tighter than a jack-in-the-box after a week of my hot husband flirting harder than Jude Law with the new nanny.

After settling me in the passenger seat, Callum grabbed the seat belt and leaned over me, clicking it together.

I closed my eyes to protect against the onslaught of his masculinity, only made more powerful by the lemony, peppery, musky cologne he wore. The low part of my belly, just above my groin, pulsed at his close proximity. Sweet baby Jesus, I had to pull myself together. I was behaving like a sex-crazed?—

“Maeve,” Callum murmured.

My eyes flicked open to see his face an inch away from mine, our eyes level, and my pulse kicked into overdrive again.

“You’re gorgeous,” he breathed, his soft gaze slipping down to my mouth.

My breath caught in my throat. “Oh.”

“I’m gonna kiss you,” he announced.

My mind blanked. I couldn’t even form a coherent sentence. I opened my mouth to say ‘oh’ again when Callum let out a soft groan, and his lips took mine in a bruising kiss.

My brain exploded. I lost all thought and feeling except for one sentence that kept running through it.

Callum O’Shea is kissing me.

Callum O’Sheais kissingme.

His lips were firm and insistent. My husband coaxed my mouth open, tangling his tongue with mine. He moaned into my mouth, and my heart leaped, my stomach turning to mush as he strengthened the kiss, like he was starving for me.

My arm slid around his neck, tangling in the hair at his nape, pulling him closer and sighing contentedly at the feel of his touch and the strength of his lips. I was still half-shocked. How was this happening? I was a four; with my keratin treatment and new top, it may have increased slightly, but still, I was clearly out of Callum O’Shea’s league.

The lightness of his fingertips didn’t register at first. I was so into the feel of his soft lips and the way his tongue pressed against mine that my thoughts were blown out of the water. Then, a tingling sensation alerted me to his hand stroking up my waist and over my ribcage toward my breasts.

Callum’s mouth wrenched itself from mine, moved across to my ear, and whispered,“Mo bhean chéile.”

My belly whooshed.

I had no clue what he’d said to me. All I knew was that it was beautiful. I sighed, utterly caught up in the moment and how Callum made me feel like I meant something.

Suddenly, his mouth was there, his tongue tracing over the swell of my breasts, and I thought I’d spontaneously combust. I’d never been this close to anyone, let alone a man. The fact it was Callum O’Shea just made it all the more magical, more sexy, moreeverything.

His fingertip deftly moved the thin material of my top, and I cried out when his mouth caught my nipple. An invisible string tugged from my breasts to my groin, and a rush of moisture hit me between my thighs.

“Jesus fuck,” he rasped before going in again, sucking my nipple harder.

I whimpered, my hips automatically lifting to seek purchase on anything to bring relief.

I’d pleasured myself before, hundreds of times, but I’d never felt anything like this. Every part of me he touched sparked to life as if it had been waiting for him. Need burned me from the inside out, and I didn’t know how I was ever going to quell it or even if I wanted to.

It just felt so fucking good.

“Baby,” he said, his voice husky.

My eyes flew open, “Huh?”

“We gotta stop.”

My heart withered away to nothing.

It didn’t take him long to come to his senses.

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