Nora grins and squeezes my arm. “Wednesday, then.” She wags a finger. “No excuses.”
Walking down the church steps into the cold with Oisin on my hip and Cara beside me, the realization lands on me quietly.
I don’t have to decline.
Not because of work. Not because I can’t afford bus fare. Not because I’d need a sitter. For years I've been so far underwater that having any kind of social life was impossible.
Now, I can just... go.
The realization is dizzying.
"You're smiling," Lorcan says, watching me over the car roof.
"I'm not smiling."
"You're beaming. It's so blinding I may need sunglasses.”
I turn my face away so he can't see that he's right.
Only one day left of our deal. And for the first time, I’m wondering what my decision will be when the time’s up. Will I stay or will I go?
Chapter 17
Maeve
All through dinner, my whole body hummed like a live wire.
I exit the bathroom in a sleep shirt to find Lorcan staring out the bedroom window. He turns when I shut the door.
I am head over heels for this man. Tonight I stop pretending I’m not.
It snuck up on me in pieces—the way he crouched for Oisin with that stupid mouthwash castle, the way he walked into that office today and turned a firing squad into a surrender, the way he looks at me like I’m not a transaction or a burden or a problem to solve. Like I’m worth wanting.
He notices the look on my face and his easy grin slides into something darker. Hungrier.
“Maeve.”
I cross the room before I lose my nerve. My hands land on his chest. “I’m done waiting. I’m ready.” My voice comes out steadier than I feel. “I want you. All of you. Now.”
Something raw flashes across his face. Then his hands cup my jaw and his mouth crashes onto mine.
This kiss isn’t careful. It’s hot and hungry. He walks me backward until the backs of my knees hit the bed and we go down together, his weight settling over me, one thigh shoving between mine. I gasp into his mouth when the hard ridge of him presses right where I’m already aching. My hips roll up on pure instinct.
“Fuck.” His forehead drops to mine. “You’ve got no idea what you do to me.”
“Show me.”
He peels the shirt over my head in one smooth movement. Cool air hits my skin and I almost cover myself again, but hiseyes stop me cold. He looks at my breasts, my stomach, the freckles on my hips, like he’s starving and I’m the feast.
“Perfect,” he rasps. “Every fucking inch.”
His mouth finds my throat. Then the slope of my breast. When he sucks a nipple between his teeth I arch so hard the bed creaks. A broken sound rips out of me. He does it again, while one big hand slides down my stomach and between my legs.
I’m soaked. Embarrassingly so. His fingers glide through the slick heat and he groans against my skin.
“This all for me?” Two fingers circle my clit slow and tight until my thighs start to shake. “Tell me.”
“Yes—god, yes?—”
