He zoomed in on the tip of my tongue, and his Adam’s apple bobbed. “Being that it’s after hours and I can join ye now, how about I buy ye a drink, lass?” He made a beeline for the bar, downing a shot as soon as he got there.
I bit back a giggle, feeling sooo much better. “Have any champagne? I prefer Crystal.”
He arched a brow. “Ye wouldn’t be what they call ‘high maintenance,’ would ye now?” His lips formed a slanted grin as he opened a fresh bottle. “I don’t have much call for Crystal, but I do have a bottle of Dom Perignon.”
“Dom will do just fine.” I quirked a brow. “And if you call having standards ‘high maintenance,’ then I guess I am.”
“Not that there’s anything wrong with that, of course.” He chuckled as he poured himself a tankard of dark beer.
“Of course.” I met his smile with one of my own.
He carried our drinks over to the pool table and then handed me my sparkling wine, the tiny bubbles fizzing and popping as I sipped. After hopping up beside me, he took a long draw from his beer and let out a sigh of ecstasy by the sound of it, which only succeeded in heightening my senses further.
He raised his glass. “Nothing like an ice-cold Guinness after a hard day’s work.”
I felt his deep voice throb in places it had no business throbbing, so I crossed my legs and leaned back on one hand as I nursed my drink with the other. “Exactly. Only I prefer martinis or champagne.”
“Shaken, not stirred, and top of the line.” His shoulder brushed mine as he leaned over when he spoke. “Extra dirty.”
“Is there any other kind?” My smile came slow and sweet as I peeked at him from the corner of my eye. “You remembered.”
He stared at me for a long moment only to pull away and softly say, “Yer not an easy woman to forget, Ms. Eisenhower.”
I met his gaze full on and heat blazed between us. “You’re not easy to forget, either, Mr. McGinnis.” Reaching out a finger, I dipped the tip inside one of his dimples. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long, you have no idea.”
“Glad I could accommodate ye.” His smile remained in place, but he studied me with a mixture of longing and wariness.
He could accommodate me oh-so-well, but I still couldn’t figure out what was holding him back. All I knew was, I wanted him more than I had ever wanted anyone. “Speaking of accommodating—”
“Oh, look at that, yer glass is nearly empty.” He vaulted off the table and headed to the bar.
I glanced at my glass that was nearly full and smiled a little. I was getting to him. I looked back up at him and swallowed hard. He was getting to me, too. His fabulous glutes flexed all the way to the bar, distracting me from the fact that he was still holding out on me. Wow, what that man did to a pair of jeans was downright sinful. Thanks be to Jesus. I wasn’t a religious woman by nature, but I was all about giving credit where credit was due.
God got it right when he’d created Matthew McGinnis.
Good thing my apartment was just a few doors down from his pub. Two glasses and several flirtatious conversations later, Matt said, “Well, lass, it’s getting late. Let me walk ye home.” He hopped off the table and stumbled a bit. Go figure, since he’d added shots to chase his beer ever since we’d started the conversation about accommodating.
“Wait, I need help,” I said to his incredibly wide back. I didn’t want the night to end. He’d cheered me up, and he was so easy to talk to, it just felt good being around him.
He paused, turning around slowly. “Oh, sorry. Me Ma would have me head fer that.” His brogue got thicker with every shot he’d downed. He placed his hands on my waist, but I wrapped my legs around his middle and my arms snaked around his neck as he lifted me. He froze. “Lass, ye be playing with fire, ye know.”
“Aye,” I said, imitating his accent with a poor version of my own. “I’m old enough to know what I be playing with, laddy.”
A goofy cockeyed smile played across his face. “Do ye now?”
I let go on purpose and started to slide down his body, but his hands slid beneath my bottom, catching me just as my most intimate spot pressed up against his groin. He closed his eyes on a deep groan, his Adam’s apple bobbing again, then he hoisted me back up above dangerous territory.
“Aye, that ye do, lass. That ye do.” He shook his head, forcing a serious tone into his voice that I did not want to hear right now. “Tiffany, we can’t—”
“Sure, we can.” My chest rose and fell against his as my breath grew faster.
His breathing matched mine as he said in a hoarse voice, “But we’ve had too much to—”
“Honey, I haven’t had nearly enough.” I cupped his cheeks and stared him in the eyes, letting him see I wasn’t even close to being drunk, but I was damn close to exploding in his arms. “I want you,” I added seconds before I pressed my lips to his and thrust my tongue inside to do battle with his.
I needed this…I needed him.
He ran one hand up my back to plunge into my hair and cradle my scalp, while the other gripped my bottom hard, pressing me firmly against every blessed inch of him. Tipping my head to the side, he dove his tongue deeper, sweeping every nook and cranny of my mouth, until every pulse in my body vibrated with desire for him.
He set me on the pool table abruptly, finally breaking our kiss as he flattened his palm on my chest and pushed gently until I fell back, my legs still wrapped around him, my dress now hiked to my upper thighs. His gaze devoured me from head to widespread knees, so I slowly inched my dress higher until my barely-there white lace thong peeked out from beneath.
He clenched his jaw, and I could see the muscles bunch as he struggled for control, finally tearing his gaze away from the V of my lacy thong. “We’ve both had too much to drink, lass. This is probably not a good idea.”
“You’re right, this isn’t a good idea,” I said breathlessly, as I undid the buttons on the front of my dress with the built-in bra and peeled the fabric wide, exposing my bare breasts. His pupils dilated, and my nipples hardened as he devoured them with his heated gaze. “This is a great idea.” I reached up to cup him through his jeans, and he leaned his head back and let loose a groan that was so deep I felt it clear to my toes.
He focused back on me, looking as though he couldn’t take any more, then mumbled something about burning in hell for this as he bent forward at the waist and caught my nipple between his teeth. I squealed as he sucked hard, and I felt the tug all the way to my womb. My eyes rolled back in my head, and I moaned deeply.
There was something about him that drew me to him in a way no other man ever had.
“Ye bewitch me, lass,” he mumbled, before taking me in his mouth once again.
“Ditto,” I managed, gasping for air.
He was different than any other man I had been with, making me feel alive, making me want him more than I had any man ever, making me need him, and that disturbed me. I liked being in charge, calling the shots. Or maybe it was just the night. The circumstances surrounding the night. The stupid birthday. I didn’t know what to think, so I didn’t. I just let myself feel.
Because for the first time today, I felt young.
Matt trailed kisses down my stomach through the fabric of my dress, then slid my thong aside and dove his tongue deep. I screamed for all I was worth and plunged my fingers through his blond curly locks, fisting my hands around the silky strands. I couldn’t breathe. I wasn’t washed up, I wasn’t old, I was…beautiful. I cried out as a tidal wave of pure joy consumed me, then the next thing I felt was something massive, stretching me, filling me, and pushing me to the edge of a cliff.
