Wild Chance (Wilder Irish #13) - Mari Carr Page 0,48
book. I mean…that one was a little too true to life. The story of how Riley and Aaron met Bubbles, and how they eloped in Vegas, was just too good not to write down.”
“Bubbles swears it’s like you were there with them. And Riley absolutely loves it. She’s told every single customer who’s walked into the restaurant this week that they should read it. If you had a fan club, Riley would already be the president.”
“Maybe I should hire your aunt to be my publicist,” Emmy joked.
“The family texts this week have been nothing but book talk, everyone pointing out parts that sound just like them or their romances. They’re having a ball.”
“I’m glad no one is upset,” she admitted.
“Upset? Hell no. Emmy, you create the best characters, people you can really root for. And the sex scenes…Jesus, woman. If I’d known you’d been sitting right across this counter the past two years writing that?! Damn. I don’t know what I would have done.”
“Will it overinflate your ego if I say you inspired a lot of those scenes?”
“I think my ego is okay,” Padraig teased, leaning over the counter to get closer to her and lowering his voice. “But something else is definitely overinflated at the moment. Think I could entice you into joining me for a quickie in the storage closet?”
Emmy shook her head. “Nope. No lock, remember?”
“Heartless woman,” Padraig said, winking, then walking away when someone at the other end of the bar asked for a refill.
Emmy finished setting up her laptop and started tapping away at the keys, something Padraig had watched her do a million times before. Now that he’d had a chance to read her books, he was even more in awe of her. He’d always been curious how she was able to write in a crowded, noisy pub, but it was apparent that it was the people and this place that fed her imagination.
He’d already worked his way through several of her books, which was saying something, considering he hadn’t read a book in his life that hadn’t been assigned in school. And even for half of those, he’d found CliffsNotes to avoid actually cracking open the book.
A few nights ago, they’d taken on roles from the BDSM book she was currently writing, with him assuming the part of the hero, a billionaire Dom. Emmy was a natural submissive—something he couldn’t think about without getting a hard-on.
By the time they’d fallen asleep, physically exhausted, they’d had sex on the floor of her living room with her on her hands and knees in front of him as he’d spanked her and fucked her at the same time, then again in the bedroom, where he’d bound her spread eagle and withheld her orgasm for nearly an hour—then once more in the bathtub, with her straddling his hips, riding him. All three times they’d remained in character, the night so sexually charged and exciting, he couldn’t wait to do it all over again.
“What’s the plan for tonight?” he asked after he’d made his rounds of the patrons, refilling drinks.
“I thought I’d write here until dinnertime and eat with you. Then I need to do some laundry, so do you mind if we stay at my place tonight? I can swing by your apartment to get Seamus so you can come straight over after work.”
He nodded, recalling his conversation with his cousins. They’d told him to take his time, not to rush to the next part, but he couldn’t make himself follow that advice. “You know, I’ve been thinking about our apartment situation.”
Emmy glanced up from her computer. “We have a situation?”
He grinned. “We have two. What if we only had one?”
“You want to move in together?”
Padraig tried to read the tone in her voice, but he was struggling. “We’ve spent every night together since the soft opening of the pub, and I don’t see that changing in the near future. No, strike the word near. I don’t see it changing period.”
Emmy gave him a sweet smile. “I like the sound of that. But, Paddy, we’ve only been dating for a couple of weeks. Doesn’t it seem sort of soon to start talking about moving in? You haven’t had time to discover all my bad habits,” she joked.
“Like?” he prompted.
“I never reuse towels, so I always have a pile of them in the corner of the bathroom. It’s a problem.”
Padraig laughed. “I think I can deal with that, if you can handle the fact that I tend to