Page 85 of On The Rocks

A tiny thrill went through my belly at the thought of reopening the bar.

Callum had missed the place being open for business. The Shamrock was in his blood and at the forefront of everything he did. Closing it down for the refurbishment had been hard on him, not just emotionally but financially, too. My husband wasa proud man and had paid for everything from his savings and what money the bar had put by, so I knew he was feeling the financial pressure. Callum had invested tens of thousands, and I knew this revamp had to work.

The thought of my big, strong, protective husband sent a delicious shiver down my spine.

Our bedroom shenanigans were a couple of mornings ago, and we’d slept together ever since. The problem was, we were so tired after working down at the bar and distillery all day we fell into bed at different times—me first, with Callum following in the early hours of the morning. Then, I’d get up at seven and go downstairs to check the fermentation, and he’d follow me down a couple of hours later.

It sucked, but at the same time, it was building a kind of sexual tension between us. I’d move past Callum and brush his ass, or he’s squeeze past me and kiss my neck as he went. Our secret smiles, longing looks, and soft touches all added to the sizzling promise of what was to come, and the anticipation was becoming unbearable, but in the best of ways.

I’d catch Callum studying me with glazed eyes across the room, and I knew he was thinking about how I’d made him come with my hand. Or I’d be telling him something, and his gaze would stray down to my breasts, and a soft little smile would appear, making my nipples harden.

Every day, the connection between us grew stronger. When we finally came together, it would be explosive; I could feel it in my blood and bones.

And my clitoris.

Oh... And my nipples, too.

Yippee!

The door opened, and my head jerked around to see Callum saunter into the distillery. He headed straight for me like a manon a mission, with a smirk plastered across his face and a wicked gleam in his eye.

“Perfect timing,” I announced, nodding toward the bottles. “Look what I just poured.”

His reply was to reach out, cup the back of my neck, and tug me against his hard, muscular body. “Have you eaten?” he asked, slowly walking me backward toward the table.

I stutter-stepped, my heart fluttering like tiny bird wings. “Not yet.”

“Mam’s made soda bread and boxty,” Callum murmured, leaning down to softly peck my lips. His hands grabbed my thighs, and he lifted my ass onto the table before he maneuvered himself between my legs. “We’ll take those drinks with us, and we can do a mini-tasting with our lunch.”

Heat curled inside my belly, and I leaned up to return his kiss, breathing, “I love boxty.”

His fingers sifted through my hair. “While I’m on the subject of tastings, why don’t we have an early night tonight? I’ll be back in the apartment by seven. Thought I could double lock the doors, barricade us in, and we could have a night to ourselves without my mam interrupting.”

“Hmm.” I tipped my head back, loving the feel of his hands on me. “That sounds perfect, but we’ve got your friends coming for a tasting session tonight.”

He grinned. “Okay, but I can kick ‘em out by nine.”

Goose bumps trailed down my arms. “Right then.”

He lowered his mouth to my ear. “I can’t stop thinking about you, wife.” He nipped my ear, making me moan softly, then kissed down my neck toward my breasts, his stubble gently scraping my skin. A strong hand curled around my waist and squeezed. “I need to be inside you.”

I felt my nipples pebble, and I sucked in his clean scent of fresh laundry and paint. Everything about him appealed to meon a base level, even his sweat. All my husband had to do was look at me, and I turned into a gooey mess.

“Son... Maeve!” a voice called from the direction of the courtyard.

Callum lifted his head, his eyes sliding to meet mine, and he sighed audibly. “You couldn’t make this shit up. I’m shocked I can still get a boner after getting cockblocked so fucking much by my own mam.” He leaned back slightly and cupped my cheek. “All she talks about is the day we have babies, but then she damned well stops us from making them.”

“Babies?” I breathed, a warm tingle spreading through my belly.

“She wants little ones running around the place.”

My fingers curled tight on his arm because there was nothing I wanted more than Callum O’Shea’s beautiful babies.

“She wants ones just like you,” he went on. “Ginger, cute, and smart. She doesn’t want any more bastard eejits like me and Donny,” he snorted, “her words, not mine.”

I felt the spark light me up inside. “That’s just the sweetest...” I whispered, my voice thick with emotion.

His head reared back, and he searched my eyes with his. “Do you want babies?”

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