‘excretions’ had, too, I’d still been pissed at the necessity.
I couldn’t even say that it was the first time Aidan had pulled such a dick move before, just never in my goddamn home.
That was the trouble with my line of work, though. Nowhere was sacred.
As I took a deep sip from my mug, I kept my gaze focused on the woman currently dressing herself.
She didn’t know I was there. Hadn’t for the past ten minutes.
Her lack of environmental awareness concerned me, even if I knew that I’d been purposely clandestine with my movements. I was standing on the outer side of the bedroom door, not the inner, and I hadn’t announced my presence.
With Aidan bouncing around like a demented basketball, the last thing I needed was Aoife being totally unaware of her surroundings.
Still, even as I groused, I didn’t make a move to announce the fact I was there.
Why would I?
I’d loved watching her dress.
Normally, I liked watching a woman undress, but with Aoife? The tiny moves she made were almost as sensual as a strip tease.
I loved that she’d asked for a pair of my briefs to wear under her jeans. Loved it. Fuck. She wasn’t coy. Hadn’t made a joke about going bare. But my underwear rubbed against her cunt and would do so until I took her home. . . .
That got my cock way more excited than it should have been after last night.
I swear, I hadn’t climaxed as hard and as often as that since I was a kid.
I wasn’t exactly old, but you aged fast in this business. The stress levels weren’t exactly easy to monitor, and when you were feeling overwhelmed, it wasn’t like you could take a six-month sabbatical and go away to drown your sorrows on some Caribbean beach.
I’d never been on vacation.
Ever.
I guess if I’d asked Aidan, he’d have granted me some time, but in his defense, he never stopped working, either. None of us did.
It was that kind of fast-paced lifestyle.
While I was only thirty-seven, I still had thirty-seven years’ worth of experience, and in those many years, I’d never had a night like I had last night.
Aoife was so earthy, so goddamn sensual that it seemed to flow from her to me.
Anything I’d wanted, it hadn’t been too much. She hadn’t been coy then, either. She’d thrown herself into everything we’d done with a passion I’d never felt before.
It made me wonder how many women who’d writhed under me had gotten off like she had. Had they faked it? The thought should be a bruise to my ego, but it wasn’t. Not when Aoife had responded to me like a duck took to water.
Just watching her drag my briefs over the curve of her ass, seeing the fabric tauten around her butt and hips, pull tight around her thighs, had my eyes narrowing. I could see from her cheeks she was flushed. She tutted at how small the briefs were on her, and I didn’t have to be a mind reader to know she wasn’t happy about that.
Aoife wasn’t a small woman.
And I adored her like that.
She was curvy and round, her body perfect for my tastes, my needs. She was, I guessed, thick. Solid. Every inch of her made for me.
When she twisted, bending down for her pants, I got a view of her slit, making my mouth water and my cock harden. Again. The folds of her sex were clearly visible through the briefs, and I clenched my teeth against the sight.
Jesus Christ, I could take her now.
Bend her over the bed and fuck her like there was no tomorrow, as though last night hadn’t happened. As though my cock wasn’t well-sated.
When she was dressed, I murmured, “Do you want breakfast?”
She released a low shriek and spun around to face me. Her cheeks, already pink, grew brighter, but she didn’t chide me for sneaking up on her, even though from her furrowed brow and the fire in her eyes, I could see she wanted to.
My lips curved at the sight.
Fight me, sweetheart. Go on. Do it.
My words were internal, but they were encouraging. I wanted to see the true redhead temper, wanted to feel its burn. But she didn’t give it to me.
I was semi-disappointed when she swallowed, gulping it down to murmur, “I-I should get back.”
“No, you should eat breakfast first,” I countered. I wasn’t going to be able to see her for a few days. Not with the clusterfuck of yesterday to deal with—our