Page 94 of On The Rocks

“You didn’t defend me to her,” she whispered.

My gut dropped at the note of pain in her tone. “I know. I was caught off guard. I didn’t expect or want her there, and I was so caught up in my own head and my own fuck-up, that her words didn’t even sink in. I panicked, Maeve. I’m not excusing it, baby. It was fucking stupid, but I didn’t mean to hurt you, and I’m so fucking sorry.”

“You keep blindsiding me,” she stated. “First Shannon and now Saskia. You have to start opening up to me more.”

My thumb stroked her porcelain skin. “I’ve always been a closed book. Never had to be any other way. But I’ll try harder, and I’ll do better. I’ll be better for you ‘cause you make it easy.”

“Oh,” she breathed. “That’s sweet.”

I grinned down at her. “You make being sweet easy too.”

Her fingertips came up to rest on my pecs. “I like your chest hair. It looks very manly.”

My grin widened. “You make having chest hair easy, too.”

She let out a cute as fuck giggle-snort, and I smiled with her. I couldn’t fucking help it; her joy was infectious.

Seeing Maeve so forlorn had affected me in ways I couldn’t understand. It was like my mood was tied to hers, and whatever emotion she was experiencing seeped under my skin and burrowed in deep. Being so in sync with a woman, for me, was like being abducted by aliens—i.e., I’d heard stories about it happening, but I’d never damn well experienced it myself.

My eyes flicked between my wife’s. “Forgive me, baby. Please, I’m begging you. I hate it when you’re mad at me. Everything seems wrong, and I feel sick.”

“I don’t know why I can’t stay angry with you for long.” Maeve shot me a pointed look. “Especially when you act like such an eejit.” She sighed. “I want Saskia gone. She’s out.”

“I’d already decided that, baby.”

“If she turns up here again, I’ll deal with her,” she muttered. “I’ll rip her fake hair out. And if I see you touch her in such an intimate way again, I’ll kick you in the goolies.”

“I won’t even speak to her again,” I vowed. “Please forgive me.”

“Okay, but this is your one and only chance. I can’t believe I let you sweet talk me. It must be the Irish gift of the gab you O’Shea boys seem to be so damned good at.”

I dropped down onto the bed beside her, my hand going to the back of her knee and hitching it over mine. “You make sweet talking easy,” I crooned before inching forward and touching my lips to hers.

Her fingers came up to my stubbled jaw. Cosmic-blue eyes stared deep into my soul, and she whispered, “You’re a beautiful man, Callum O’Shea. You’re easy on the eye, alright.”

My heart flipped over, and a warm feeling slid through my gut and settled into place.

That was when it hit me.

I loved my wife deeply, with every bone in my body and every breath in my lungs. And with every bone and every breath, I knew I’d love her forever.

A warm shiver drifted through me, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up with the realization that it had finally happened to me. Cupid had fired his shot and struck me deep and true.

Jesus fuck, I was in love.

And nothing hadeverfelt more right.

My hand slid around her hip, and I tugged her against my body. Then, I leaned in and pressed my mouth to hers. Maeve’swarm, soft lips parted slightly, allowing my tongue to slip inside. She tasted of floral perfume and fruity cider, heady and sweet. I groaned my need for more into her mouth. Warmth radiated from me but not from my skin. It came from somewhere interred and more profound. It came from my soul.

My hands feverishly went to the hem of her little top and I wrenched my mouth away from hers, grinning as Maeve lifted her arms, making it easier for me to take it off. Tossing it somewhere behind me, I let out a deep growl and immediately latched my mouth onto a soft pink nipple.

Maeve whimpered, her back bowing off the bed. “That feels amazing,” she said with a groan.

Slowly, I traced the tip of my tongue around her areola before sucking her entire nipple back into my mouth, and my cock jumped as the air filled with her long, needy whimper. Maeve’s taste, her fragrance, everything about her sang to me. She made my blood rush in my veins and my pulse thrum from just being alive and close to her.

With a last lick, I released her nipple, leaned up and into her face, and growled, “Do you want me, wife?”

Another whimper filled the room followed by a whispered, “Yes.”

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