We’ll have to be more careful. I can’t believe that I’m confident it will happen again, but I don’t know what I’ll do if it doesn’t. What if Declan pulls me into his study tomorrow to tell me that he had second thoughts? What if Orla asked him why we were out all day and he’s worried that she’ll be suspicious?
My phone vibrates in my pocket. A text message.
I can still taste you.
Grinning, I switch on the shower, undress, and fire a message back to him:
Lucky you!
The hot water soothes my sore body. My nipples tingle as the spray hits them, and when I close my eyes, I can still feel Declan sucking on them in the shelter we found on the beach. I peer down and they’re swollen and tender, and nothing has ever felt quite so delicious before.
I instinctively spread my legs and cup my pussy in my hand. My clit is still throbbing. My inner thighs are sore from the nips Declan gave me with his front teeth when my orgasm threatened to explode too soon. My abdomen is rosy from his kisses.
After, he cocooned me in his arms, and we sat there for the longest time, with the rain creating a curtain around us while we watched the daylight being sucked up by the darkness.
He said that no matter what happens, that beach will always hold a special place in his memories. “It will forever be known as Amelia Beach.”
I’m still grinning when I wrap a fluffy white hand towel around my hair, and a fluffy white robe around me, and stroll back into my room. New York is five hours behind the time in Ireland. So, I flop onto my bed and video call Carol.
“Hey, baby girl.” She must be getting ready for work because she’s doing her makeup and I can see her messy room in the background. Carol is the most organized person I know at work, but at home she’s an absolute slob. “How’s it going?”
“Great.” I know I’m grinning, but I can’t help it. I’m still basking in the glow of today. “Really great.”
Carol blinks at her reflection in her mirror, checking out the black flicks on her eyelids and then turns her attention back to the camera. Her eyes narrow. “What’s happened?”
“Nothing. I just love it here.”
“Hmm… Love it here in Ireland? Or love it here because I’m living in a fucking mansion with horses and enough land to fit an entire country in and a boss with an Irish accent?” She chuckles, dipping her mascara wand in and out of the tube.
“All of the above.”
She stares at me from the screen until my cheeks grow hot. Then, “Talk me through your day. I want to hear all about it.”
“I went to Dublin today. Shopping for warmer clothes—you have no idea how cold it is here already.” I pause.
I can only see half of Carol’s face while she applies her mascara, but I know what she’s doing: she’s letting the silence hang so that I feel obliged to fill it.
Which I instinctively do.
“Then we had lunch at an inn. I tried Guin?—”
She’s back. “We?”
“Me and Declan. Orla suggested that he spend the day showing me around.”
“Orla’s the mother-in-law, right?”
I called Carol and my mom to let them know that I’d arrived safely and told them all about Declan and Orla. Well, not exactly all about Declan. I may have omitted to tell them how good-looking he is, but I did tell them that they gave me a warm welcome and made me feel at home.
If home means screwing my boss on every available surface.
I shift my position on the bed, wincing at my swollen clit.
“Yes. She’s lovely. You’ll meet her if you come over later in the year, and you’ll love her.” Although now that I’ve said the words out loud, I don’t know how that’s going to pan out. Carol knows me. She’ll need less than five minutes in the same room as Declan and me to figure out that we’ve fucked.
I’ll have to cross that bridge when I come to it.
But she’s still staring at me. “What’s that mark on your neck?” She moves closer to the camera.
