Eamon nearly choked on his wine, coughing as he set down his glass. “Romance novels?”
“Don’t laugh,” I warned, pointing my fork at him. “They’re actually really well-written, and the character development is often better than literary fiction. Plus, they always have happy endings, which is more than I can say for most books these days. I’ll take my feel-good moments whenever and wherever I can find them.”
“I’m not laughing,” he said, but there was definitely amusement dancing in his green eyes. “Just trying to picture you curled up with a book calledThe Dirty Duke’s Desireor something.”
“How did you—” I stared at him. “Have you read romance novels?”
“Maybe I’ve seen a few covers,” he said with a grin that was pure mischief. “So what’s your favorite? And please tell me it involves pirates or cowboys.”
“Aliens, actually.”
“Aliens?” He leaned forward. “Tell me more.”
“There’s this series about a spaceship that gets stranded on another planet, and the guys all end up with alien mates. They’re, like, seven-foot-tall and purple, and they have massive…equipment. It’s absolutely ridiculous but also incredibly hot.” I could feel my face burning, but something about Eamon’s easy acceptance made me want to keep talking. “The sex scenes are…inspiring.”
The temperature in the room seemed to spike by about twenty degrees. Eamon’s eyes darkened, his gaze dropping briefly to my mouth before snapping back up. “Mmm, I see,” he all but purred, his tone shooting straight to my cock. “So that’s when your seven-inch friend comes to the rescue?”
“Indeed. He’s been very helpful in alleviating the pressure.”
“I bet,” he said, his voice rougher than before. “Any details you want to share? Don’t be concerned about my sensibilities. I can handle it.”
Why did I have to have this insane chemistry with this man? His mere voice was making me hard now, flashing all kinds of dirty scenarios through my head. “I’m sure, but it’s not appropriate. You’re on the job.”
He made a face. “Who cares?”
I did, though not as much as I should. “Speaking of inappropriate,” I said, desperate to change the subject before I did something stupid like crawl across the table, “what’s the weirdest place you’ve ever hooked up with someone?”
Eamon raised an eyebrow. “As if that’s appropriate?”
He had a point there, not that I would admit it. “Whatever. You damn well know you couldn’t possibly care less. Now spill. You seem like you’ve got some stories.”
His grin was pure male sexiness. “I have a few for sure, I do. Let’s see… There was the time in a confessional booth, but that’s probably too blasphemous to share over dinner.”
“A confessional booth?” I gaped at him. “Seriously?”
“The guy was the priest’s nephew, and he had a very unhealthy relationship with authority figures,” Eamon said with a shrug. “Plus, the acoustics were surprisingly good.”
I burst out laughing. “Oh my god, you’re going to hell.”
“I would, if it existed. Though that wasn’t even the strangest place. There was also the time in a museum storage room.”
“A museum?”
“Natural History Museum in Dublin. The guy was a tour guide, very passionate about paleontology. We ended up getting frisky behind a display of dinosaur bones.” Eamon’s grin turned wicked. “Let’s just say the T. rex wasn’t the only thing that was big and impressive that night.”
“Did you get caught?”
“Nearly. A security guard came by doing his rounds right as things were getting interesting. Had to hide behind a woolly mammoth exhibit for twenty minutes until the coast was clear.” He shook his head. “Nothing kills the mood quite like crouching naked next to a bunch of fossilized mammoth shit while trying not to sneeze from all the dust.”
“That’s terrible,” I wheezed, wiping tears from my eyes. “But also kind of amazing.”
“The guide thought so too. Kept sending me pictures of various exhibits for weeks afterward with very detailed descriptions of what we could do in each location.” Eamon took a sip of wine. “I had to block his number when he started getting creative about the butterfly conservatory.”
I didn’t even want to ask. “Compared to you, I’m boring.”
“No scandalous locations in your past?”
“Nothing that exciting. Though I did have a very uncomfortable encounter in a supply closet at my old coffee shop. Turns out flour sacks make terrible pillows, and there’s nothing romantic about the smell of industrial cleaning supplies.”
