Ciar could afford to live anywhere, with anyone, but the man was nothing but loyal to his childhood friends. He was a few years older than Daniel, but according to Bébhinn, who had always lived in Dublin, Ciar and her cousins had been running rampant in the foggy streets of Dublin since they were children.
Gray might have grown up in Scotland, but her family was close to the O’Faolains and had attended all the same parties.Ciar and his father were considered family and had always been around.
She took a deep breath and stretched her arms above her head, trying to get comfortable. Mistake. Ciar’s unique scent filled her nose as soon as her chin dipped close to the pillowcase. That man smelled like, well, he smelled like a dirty dream.
It was some combination of spice and tobacco. The Dunhills that she had occasionally caught him smoking smelled good enough that she’d almost considered trying them herself. Of course, she didn’t, as she cared about her health, and her dad would kill her, but damn, they smelled good on that man.
She tossed and turned for what felt like days, but a glance at her phone revealed she’d only been rolling around Ciar’s bed for just under two hours. It was close to two in the morning, but sleep seemed as impossible as it had when she’d first lain down.
Kicking off the covers, she decided to go in search of water. The boys’ townhouse was the mirror of the girls’, and she was able to traverse the layout without light.
Finding the cabinet that held the glasses, she grabbed one, filled it with plain tap and leaned back against the sink and sipped the room temperature water. It was much quieter than their house ever was in the evening. The four girls either played music, ran box fans, or had a television’s drone for background noise. Even Blair, whose life was silent, preferred music. She said the low bass was soothing against her skin.
Gray was about to rinse her glass and put it in the sink when her ears picked up the soft shuffle of feet. Her skin instantly prickled in alarm, having just found out that a stalker had targeted one of her best friends, so when Ciar filled the doorway, her body tensed for a whole other reason.
“Christ, Gray. You scared the shit out of me,” Ciar announced once he cleared the threshold and noticed her presence.
She swallowed the moan swimming in her throat at the sight of Ciar dressed in tight, black boxer briefs. His heavily muscled chest and tattooed body, highlighted by the moonlight, had her heart pounding.
“I couldn’t sleep. You?” Gray asked with what she hoped was a casual tone.
“Jonathan is a snoring prick, and that couch may have cost a mint, but the bloody thing is shit to sleep on.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. “Damn, I feel even worse for taking your bed. Here I was, thinking about how quiet it was. Your bed is lovely, though,” she managed to tease without sounding flirty. She hoped. Ciar never needed to know she held even the slightest flame for him.
“I’ll trade you bunks,” he offered teasingly. “You done?” he asked, pointing at the half-empty glass of water in her hand.
At her nod, he took it and shot back the rest of the water. For some reason, that move felt awfully familiar and had her stomach clenching.
He was standing close enough to feel the warmth of his skin grazing hers. Up until this moment, she’d ignored that she was only wearing a thin, white sleep tank and barely there matching shorts, but when his eyes dipped to her chest, Gray’s body involuntarily arched toward his gaze.
She felt her nipples harden under his stare, which instantly flicked to her eyes. His black gaze skimmed to her tongue as she licked her suddenly dry lips.
He took a cautious step to the side, putting his chest parallel to hers. One of his tattooed hands gripped the sink’s edge at her back. She fisted her hands to stop from placing them against his sculpted chest, but as he moved infinitesimally closer to her lips, she gave in.
Without warning, she dragged her fingers over his hardened nipples, lightly scratching her nails against the raised bumps.His moan emboldened her exploration. He never moved, only his muscles, which jumped wherever her hands traced.
“Gray,” he breathed her name against her mouth. “Can I?—”
She didn’t let him finish asking before closing the gap and licking into his mouth…and that was all it took. He took her mouth the way she’s never had it taken—deep, dirty, needing air but not caring.
He grabbed her ass and lifted her against him so she could wrap her legs around his waist. She whimpered at the pressure and heat between her thighs where his sex was hard, hot, and insistent.
“Ciar,” she moaned as he ground his hips against her.
“Christ, Gray, Christ.” His moan and raspy words were loud in the quiet house.
He bit her lip before licking back into her mouth. The fingers gripping and kneading her ass were slowly getting closer to where she needed them.
“Jesus, Ciar, are you watching porn in the fucking kitchen?” Daniel asked from the living room, startling the would-be porn stars a part.
Daniel must have given up his room for Mags and Blair. She felt her face burn hot at what they’d almost been caught doing and how close she’d been to letting it go way further. Ciar let her slide down his body but kept a firm grip on her hips.
“Fuck off,” Ciar barked. “Just getting some water and watching a video my buddy from the States sent. I’m back to bed.”
Daniel’s light snores were his only response. Gray’s shoulders sagged in relief. She wouldn’t have minded getting caught so much as she would have regretted it had they gone any further. She needed to know where Ciar’s head was first—the one above his shoulders.
Sensing the moment was over, he brushed his thumb over her bottom lip and whispered, “I’ll walk you back to my room.”
