Wild Chance (Wilder Irish #13) - Mari Carr Page 0,31

in a ring, waiting for the bell to sound the beginning of the round.

Joe shook his head, heedlessly leaning closer to Padraig. Apparently a fool and his head are soon parted, because Padraig’s fists were clenched and there was a fury in his eyes she’d never seen before.

“We don’t have a damn thing to talk about, Padraig. But I think you have a lot of things you need to say to her.” Joe jerked his head toward Emmy.

Emmy wasn’t sure why that comment took the wind out of Padraig’s sails, but it certainly seemed to. His gaze softened as he looked at her. “Yeah. I do.”

“You and I don’t have a beef with each other,” Joe continued. “I was just saying good night to my date. But heads-up, man. You leave her alone again, I’m gonna grab the chance you’re not—and I won’t back down a second time.”

Padraig’s expression seemed chiseled in stone, his jaw was clenched so tightly. “So noted.”

“Good.” Then Joe gave Emmy a quick kiss on the cheek, laughing deeply when Padraig growled. “Good night, Emmy. I had a great time.” Then he actually had the audacity to wink at Padraig as he said, “You kids have fun tonight,” before walking away.

That was it?

Her date was over?

Emmy turned to Padraig, hands on her hips, her temper spiking. “What the hell do you think—”

Before she could say more, Padraig grasped one of her hands and tugged her toward the back of the pub.

“Paddy,” she said, digging her heels in. “Dammit. Stop!”

He spun to face her, and she gasped at the expression on his face, trying to figure out what the hell she was looking at. Best she could come up with was furious hunger.

Was that a thing?

“Walk with me, Em, or I swear to God, I’ll throw you over my shoulder and carry you.”

“Where are we going?” she asked stupidly, taking a big step back when he lowered his shoulder, ready to make good on his threat.

“Emmy…” he growled.

She threw her hands up in the air. “I’ll walk.”

Satisfied, he grabbed her hand once more.

Her feet began to move, even as the romance writer in her immediately committed his words to memory. Throw her over his shoulder and carry her? That was definitely going in a book.

Of course, the second that thought crossed her mind, she was instantly sorry she hadn’t tested him, just to see if he’d do as he threatened.

They reached the door to the storage closet, Padraig opening it and pushing her inside.

Once the door closed behind them, she whirled on him, ready to demand answers.

“You better explain to me what the fuck you—”

Emmy didn’t get to finish that question either. Padraig kept steamrolling over her.

Not that she minded this time. Not when he gripped her shoulders and pulled her toward him, kissing her deeply.

Like last week’s kiss, this one rendered her completely senseless as well. All capability of thinking or reasoning simply vanished as he plundered her mouth with his demanding tongue.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and held on. It was either that or melt into the floor, her body boneless under his delicious attack.

Padraig paid absolutely no heed to the appropriate waist zone, his hands running up and down her back, over her hips, then reaching lower to cup her ass. He used that grip to draw her even closer, his erection hard against her stomach.

Jesus.

His erection…

She tried to break the kiss, needing air, needing answers, but Padraig tightened his hold.

“Not yet,” he murmured against her lips. He was gentling his kiss, but he wasn’t letting her go.

“Paddy,” she whispered.

He shook his head. “No,” he insisted again. “Not yet. I’m not done.”

She jerked slightly, then shivered when she felt him pull her blouse free of her jeans, slipping his hands underneath, his fingers stroking the bare skin at her waist. Her pussy clenched in response. Actually, everything clenched in response.

“God,” she breathed, when his hands shifted north, engulfing her breasts. He pinched her nipples, more roughly than she would have expected, the pain setting off some sort of sensual current that had her rolling her hips against him.

Why were they wearing so many clothes? Because suddenly, all she could picture was him stripping her blouse and bra off, dragging her jeans down, and taking her against the shelves.

Oh my God. They were in the pub. His entire family was just outside this storage closet.

Had he locked the door?

Was there a lock on the door?

She pushed against him more firmly this time. If