Page 7 of Naughty Irish Liar

Locking my roving tongue behind my clenched teeth I leaned down, with my two fists braced on the wall behind her, essentially caging her in.

She’d done this. She’d forced this meeting. She could flicker her little girl lashes all she wanted and lick her nude lips. I was unaffected.

Liar.

“Can I help you?” I rasped. Watching her stubborn chin lift.

She’d busted through my dam that had once leashed my want of her.

Too damn bad now, princess, I thought, watching her tongue-tip slake her lips again. She had no idea what she was doing.

Years’ worth of distance just like that wiped away.

Some part of me was whispering…finally.

I watched her watching me, biting on her lip. Eyes raking over my short light-colored hair and across the stubble I hadn’t bothered shaving in days. Her eyes roamed up and down noticing my dark jeans, white shirt and a jumper. I wasn’t into suits. Suits were for desk riders and I liked to get my hands stuck in to the gritty work.

How did she know I was here tonight? I could have easily been across town since I interchanged between pubs depending which needed me around the most.

Was this purely coincidence?

A wandering princess stumbling in for a pint?

No, I could tell from her heated cheeks she’d come here deliberately.

For me.

About damn time. My dick reacted.

“W-what do you mean?”

“Don’t play coy, Catherine. As I recall you weren’t this shy in asking for a fuck.”

Color rushed into her cheeks and the anger filled her eyes so fast I would have laughed if not for being furious she was standing before me making me feel like… justfeel. I didn’t like the sensation of being out of control and it was all her fault.

I was burning up from shock.

And need. Don’t forget the need,eejit,I taunted myself.

“Are you always this shade of asshole?”

“Every day,acushla. Every breath.”

My heart rolled over. Calling herdarling? A quick glance at her face told me she didn’t understand Gaelic. Why would she? Her kin were all from right here in America. Rooted to the soil and the heritage of prestige, it was so far away from my upbringing. I swallowed my annoyance and distanced a few steps, leaving her prone against the wall while I gathered what fucking sanity I had left since she’d seemed to suck all the air from my lungs with her witchy wiles.

Five years disappearing. Memories flourishing full to life again like there’d been no time in between our last mess.

“I told you what would happen the next time I laid eyes on you, didn’t I? And here you are. In my pub.”

I held her eyes.

I couldn’t deny she’d grown into something so fucking lovely.

She was stunning. Willowy, small and beautiful. High cheekbones with a natural pout and a little pointed chin. Not to mention the multitude of freckles dotted on her face.

What had she been doing all this time? Who did she date?

I didn’t give a fuck, I insisted even as the taste felt wrong in my throat.

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