Wild Chance (Wilder Irish #13) - Mari Carr Page 0,35

The New York Times best seller list and walked into Pat’s Pub and…”

“And we met.”

She nodded, reaching hard for humor. “Fast-forward two years later, and here we are.”

Padraig didn’t laugh. He didn’t even smile. “Did you stop dating because of me, Emmy?”

She really didn’t want to answer that.

“You did,” he said, saving her from having to come up with a response.

“Not intentionally. Honest. It just sort of turned out that way. And I don’t want you to think it’s been a hardship,” she said. “Because I’ve actually had mad, passionate sex hundreds of times over the past few years. It’s just been with…” She wiggled her eyebrows, letting him fill in the blanks.

This time, Padraig did chuckle. “Those fictional characters you’re in love with. What were their names again? Jamie, Ian, and…?”

“Eric,” she joked. “Plus, some really good toys.”

“Okay then,” he said, lifting her off his lap, then grasping her hand to pull her up, until the two of them were standing by the couch. “No making out.”

“Wait. What?” Emmy was ready to put her foot down. Hard.

However, rather than reply, Padraig tightened his grip on her hand and led her down the hallway to her bedroom. Since they were headed in the right direction, she didn’t make a fuss.

He kicked the door closed when it was apparent her cats were planning to join them.

“They won’t like that,” she murmured.

“Tough.”

“No making out?” she asked.

“No. I want to make love to you, Emmy.”

7

“Oh,” Emmy said on a sigh. “Okay. Yeah.”

Padraig smiled briefly, then pulled her into his arms, resuming the kisses they’d shared all night. Now that he’d opened the door and let her in, he couldn’t stop touching her, tasting her.

Her confession about her limited sexual history—and partners—hadn’t shocked him as much as she might have thought. If there was anything he’d learned about Emmy over the last two years, it was that she wasn’t the type of woman who viewed sex as merely a physical act. For her, sex and love went hand in hand.

He could see it in the way she hung voraciously on every word and action of his cousins and brother as they’d fallen in love with their soul mates. In the beginning, she’d pretended to type on her laptop while eavesdropping on his conversations, something he’d teased her about quite a bit.

When it became obvious she was listening in, he started asking if she agreed with the relationship advice he’d offered Leo—who was falling hard for Yvonne—and Finn—who was struggling to come to grips that he was in love with both Layla and Miguel.

Eventually, his family actually started turning to her for romance advice. It was Emmy who’d told Colm exactly where he’d gone wrong when trying to win Kelli’s heart.

And if that wasn’t enough to prove sex was synonymous with love for Emmy, it was driven home when she admitted to being in love with the fictional characters she fantasized about. She couldn’t even masturbate without love figuring into the equation.

When he considered all that, he decided that was probably why she was such a successful romance writer.

After several minutes, he broke the kiss. “I want to see you,” he murmured, reaching for the buttons of her blouse. He’d already undone the top three, revealing her pretty white lace bra.

Emmy was half a foot shorter than him, her body slender. Her breasts weren’t large, but they weren’t small either. In his mind, they were just right.

Once he finished unbuttoning her blouse, he slid it off her arms. He ran the back of his fingers over the tops of her breasts once more, enjoying the way she shivered, her eyes drifting shut under the impact of her arousal.

He ran his lips along her soft cheek, then nipped at her earlobe, provoking a breathy laugh.

Reaching around her, he unfastened her bra and pulled it off.

He expected her to be shy with him, but Emmy was made of sterner stuff. Rather than blush or try to hide herself, she simply stood before him, letting him look his fill.

Lowering his head, he took one of her tight nipples into his mouth, sucking on it as she arched her back and moaned. Then he repeated the action on the other.

Emmy’s hands made their way to the back of his head, her fingers grasping his hair, tugging.

When he lifted his head again, she wasted no time moving them to the next part. She gripped the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head. Like him, she paused, wanting