‘Hello, sleepy head.’ He slipped into the bath behind me.
‘Jeez, you’d tire a man out, girl. You’re insatiable.’ Yet it was him that was currently fondling my breasts, tenderly running his fingers over my nipples.
‘If you’re awfully tired, I suggest you stop that immediately,’ I warned him, feeling the deep stirring of arousal pooling in my core.
‘I suppose I did get a bit of rest there,’ he conceded, his hand stroking slowly down over my stomach, teasingly toward another part of me. He played with me, toying with me, running his fingers up and down until I felt like begging him to touch the most intimate parts of me.
‘You like that?’ he whispered into my ear from behind.
‘You know I do.’ I could barely think straight, silently pleading with him to give me my release. The man was a mind reader.
He stroked me repeatedly, until heat spread through my groin and down my thighs, my toes curling in anticipation. I was tense, ready to blow any second.
I loved watching his hands rubbing relentlessly over the most sensitive part of me, seeing him so confidently enjoying the power he had over me in that moment. I couldn’t hold it any longer, my entire body shuddered to a powerful climax. Though he was behind me, I felt his grin. He loved what he did to me, how he could take me and turn me into a quivering wreck any time he felt like it.
I regained my composure, waiting for my heart to slow to a normal rate before turning round in the soapy water to straddle him. He was more than ready, turned on from turning me on. I placed his hands back onto my nipples, dominating him as I began to slide up and down the length of him, slowly at first, then increasing the pace, watching his face as he battled to prolong the experience. It was my turn to smile, knowing without a shadow of a doubt that what we had was better than anything either of us had had before.
Afterwards, I slumped forward onto his chest, grateful for the scrunchie that pulled my unruly curls into a messy bun on top of my head.
‘You are something else.’ He kissed my neck lightly before I pulled away. As hot as the sex had been, I wasn’t exactly comfortable and we both laughed as I navigated my way less than graciously out of the bath and into the comfort of one of the hotel’s heavy robes.
I popped open a bottle of Moet from the minibar and poured us both a glass. John drank his in the bath, I sat at the dressing table next to him and applied my make-up for the evening.
‘You don’t need half that shit you put on your face, Luce,’ he said affectionately.
‘I like it. It’s more for my benefit than yours,’ I told him truthfully.
‘How many times have I told you, girl, when you have it, you have it. And trust me, you have it.’
I’m not quite sure what ‘it’ was, but he clearly intended it as a compliment. I slipped into a black bodycon dress, plain in its design, with thick straps and a scoop neck which showed a hint of tanned cleavage. It stopped exactly on my knee and I teamed it with simple black peep toe stilettos and a small black clutch.
John let out a long, low whistle and raised his eyebrows approvingly at my attire. ‘Do you have any knickers on under there?’ he asked huskily.
‘I might let you find out later.’
‘Every man in Dublin is going to be looking at my woman tonight,’ he said.
‘I very much doubt that. Maybe it’s you that needs to go to Specsavers? But if Brad Pitt himself walked through that door right now, I’d tell him to get lost and stop annoying us.’ I downed the last of my champagne in one mouthful.
He helped me into my black, knee-length belted over coat and lead me out into the corridor where we took the lift to reception. We took a taxi to the restaurant John had booked; it was called Fire. It was classy, but understated, like himself. We had a private booth dimly lit with candles.
John told me about the week’s work on the farm, how Hugh and Sam had been so good to stay all hours. I found myself only half listening. The other half of me wondered what I’d possibly done to deserve to be with this wonderful man. He was everything I hadn’t realised I needed; strong, confident, witty, sexy.
The only problem was the sea that separated us. I sighed unintentionally.
‘Am I keeping you awake? Sorry, I know this farming craic isn’t exactly what you’re into,’ he sat forward, leaving across the table.
‘Sorry. It’s not that at all. I was just wondering how many teeth I’d have to clean before I could buy my very own helicopter so I could come home to you every night.’ I attempted to make light of the situation.
‘Honey, you are so silly sometimes.’ He laughed at me in a childlike manner. ‘You won’t need a helicopter; the house is only fifteen minutes in the car from town.’
‘Hilarious, aren’t you?’ I sipped my wine quietly, unsure of what else to say on the matter.
‘Don’t panic. It’s all going to fall into place, I promise you.’
‘Why? Are you thinking of exporting antiques to the UK?’ I asked more sharply than I had intended to.
‘There are five dental practices in Ballina,’ he said. ‘I’m not saying you have to move here, but at least there are options. Let’s give it until Christmas and we’ll talk about it seriously then. I know we can’t go on travelling indefinitely every weekend, and I’m only sorry its mostly you doing the legwork with flightsand trains and everything else. I’m just tied with the farm and everything.’
