Page 18 of Tempting Irish

Chapter 4

Bree

I’ve dreamed about this.Craved his touch. But more, I wanted one night with the boy who inspired my belief in white knights and happyendings.

Cheesy?Maybe.

But it was a fantasy that had gotten me through some pretty shittytimes.

Why shouldn’t I take what Iwant?

His hand cups the back of my neck and he leans closer, his body inches from mine. So close I can feel the heat of his body like a magnet pulling me towards him, and burning away all sense ofpropriety.

I came here for this. For him. Used the last of my savings. Quit my shitty job. Boarded a three-hundred-tonne piece of metal and flew across a damn ocean just to see him again. I just didn’t think it would happen this soon. If I’m honest with myself, I didn’t really think it would happen atall.

And especially not likethis.

Onenight.

That’s all he’s willing togive.

But, despite my own admission that it’s all I want, too, I know it’ll never beenough.

If I let him kiss me, touch me…take me…I don’t know if I’ll survive the heartbreak of losing him a secondtime.

You’re being pathetic,my brain scolds.It’s just sex. Keep your emotions out of it and take what you’ve dreamt about every night for the past tenyears.

Except that it isn’t justsex.

Itwillbe forhim.

But, for me, all my emotions have been wrapped up in him, or, at least, the pre-teen memory of him, for so long, it’s hard to separate the two. I know how pitiful it is, wanting someone who doesn’t want you, who doesn’t even remember your existence. But those memories – the small kindnesses he showed me before my whole world flipped on its axis – without them, I’m not sure I’d have survived the nightmare that became my life after leavingIreland.

Gray eyes study me, consume me, and wait for me to make a move. But trepidation holds me back, makes me hesitate from taking what he’soffering.

His head tilts and he raises a brow at me, eyes both playful and intense, filled with wicked promise, and more patience than I expect from a man who has throngs of women worshipping at hisfeet.

“Kiss me,” he demands, his rough breaths filling the air, diminishing the space betweenus.

A shiver travels down my spine and pools in mycore.

I place my palm on the dark scruff of his jaw, my fingers tingling at the feel of the coarse hair. He doesn’t move as I run my thumb across his bottom lip, but I feel the small vibration of a silentgrowl.

Sucking in a deep breath, I press back the self-doubt, the fear, the lack of tomorrows, and let desire rule over every otheremotion.

His fingers remain tangled in the hair at the back of my neck, and they tighten a little harder when I leancloser.

Gaze never wavering from his, my mouth is so close I can almost taste hiskiss.

Lust knots in my stomach, vibrating in my thighs, pooling at mycore.

“One night,” I whisper, more as a reminder to myself, my tongue darting out across my own lips as I anticipate thekiss.

A rumble vibrates in his throat as I brush my lips againsthis.

I whimper at the contact, jolts of pleasure racing throughme.

Owen.

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