about things. Not let them fester.’
He looks up at the sky. ‘Go on then.’
‘If I’m honest, it wasn’t even that you wouldn’t tell me how you broke up with Orla. It was that you’d had a relationship at all. You basically, in so many words, told me that Orla was different. She was special to you.’
‘She was.’ He nods, as if not understanding why this would upset me.
‘So to me, that kind of felt like you were saying I’m not special. I’m just another regular girl you’d like to hit it and quit it with. It doesn’t exactly make a girl feel special.’
He frowns. ‘Phoebe, that’s not it at all. You are special. It’s just that I don’t have a heart to give to you. It already got shattered a long time ago.’
Okay, so she definitely broke his heart. Noted. This got heavy really quick. I blame the vodka. It’s always given me a loose tongue.
‘I don’t want to get into it,’ he continues, ‘but it taught me one thing; relationships are not worth it.’
I sigh. ‘Yeah, see, in girl language it’s like you’re telling me I’m not worth it.’
He sighs, as if the weight of the world is on his shoulders. ‘That’s why I’ve been so at war about us,’ he admits. ‘We’re a bad idea.’
‘Obviously.’ I grin, wanting to bring things back to light.
‘But…’ He locks his eyes with mine. They are brimming over with sincerity. ‘That doesn’t stop me wanting to make the mistake.’
‘Seriously, stop referring to me as a mistake,’ I snap. ‘And it’s not like you’ve talked me into anything, Clooney.’
He tilts his head, smirking adorably. ‘You know we’re good together. We’ve got amazing sexual chemistry.’
I nod. I can’t deny it. ‘Half of me wonders whether it’ll calm down once we’ve done it.’ Shit, did I really just say that out loud? Damn vodka.
He snorts. ‘Clearly never had sex with Clooney Breen. I’m addictive, baby.’
I roll my eyes, but I’m actually considering it. I mean, it’s not like I want a relationship anyway. As soon as I can sell up we’ll be going back to England. Could it really hurt that bad to scratch the itch? This way we both go into it with our eyes wide open.
He leans in to me, taking a lock of my hair in his fingers. ‘Just give in to it, Phoebe.’ He kisses my cheek slowly, the heat of his lips leaving my skin searing. ‘Let yourself go.’ He places his lips on my neck and I shamelessly throw my head back and groan.
He chuckles into my neck. ‘But if you don’t want to, that’s okay too.’
I grab his face. ‘For once, Clooney, just shut up.’ I thrust my lips onto his.
Chapter Forty-One
He parts our lips, his tongue immediately in my mouth. Normally I don’t like guys who are tongue happy, but Clooney is such a sexual being, it just gets me worked up and panting. His hand travels from cradling my jaw to my breast. I arch my back to push my boob into his palm. He grins against my lips.
I reach out my shaky hands to grab at his t-shirt. I can already feel the heat of his body through it. I have no idea how he runs so hot when it’s so freezing over here.
He runs his fingertips under my fleecy jumper and to my bare breast. Thankful that I didn’t bother with a bra today. That’s the benefit of jumpers, they hide cold erect nipples.
‘You’re so soft,’ he whispers gruffly in my ear.
I groan again, lifting his t-shirt and running my hands greedily over his taut chest. I count his six pack, one by one, and then come to his delicious V. Down to the start of his jeans and the beginning of coarse hair. God, I’ve never been so excited to see a penis.
He lifts my fleecy jumper off me. I shiver, my body goosepimply from the cold. It’s a relatively mild evening here, but that still means its freezing by normal standards.
‘I think it’s time to get in the sleeping bag,’ he suggests, his voice breathless as he steals more kisses. We crawl towards it. It’s then that I realise once we’re in it’ll be a nightmare to get my jeans off.
So I do what any horny gal would. I kick my boots off and then shimmy myself out of my jeans, leaving me in just my knickers and tank top. He watches me, eyes alight with lust.
‘Fuck, you’re hot,’ he says, while