One Wild Night Page 7

  She opened her legs in invitation.

  Eric had thrust inside her twice before he remembered what he’d forgotten. He reared back, rising off the bed. “Condom.”

  “Oh.” From her tone, it was clear Joni had forgotten too.

  He reached into the nightstand and grabbed one as he apologized. “I’m sorry, Joni.”

  She shrugged. “I’m on the Pill. It wouldn’t have been the end of the world.”

  “That felt amazing.” His awed tone must have given him away as he pulled on the condom.

  “You’ve never had sex without one? Really?”

  He shook his head. “I told you. I’ve never ventured very far into committed relationship land.”

  She reached out for him and Eric crawled back onto the bed, resuming his previous position. He had only pressed a couple of inches in when Joni whispered, “We’ll have to try it without sometime.”

  Eric paused and let her words soak in. She’d just offered him something more wonderful than her body. She was giving him her trust.

  He leaned down to kiss her. Eric had thought there was nothing he’d wanted more than sex, but that fell to the wayside as he felt the need to show her how much her words meant to him.

  Love at first sight had always felt like a joke to him. A myth. An impossibility. Now he knew for sure he was experiencing it himself.

  Joni’s fingers stroked his hair, but like him, she no longer seemed interested in that mad dash to the end. She opened her mouth, her tongue finding his. Her taste matched his, wine mingled with the coffee and chocolate flavors from their dessert. Her kisses were more delicious than the food.

  After several minutes, he pulled away and pressed his forehead to hers.

  “Eric,” she whispered. “Will you make love to me?”

  He nodded, unable to speak. There was nothing he wanted to do more.

  He withdrew slowly until just the head of his cock remained, both of them gasping at the sudden motion after remaining still for so long. Then he returned, stroking deeply.

  Neither of them sought to increase the pace. Instead, they took their time, learning each other’s bodies. On the fourth stroke, Eric found her G-spot, the thrust evoking the most beautiful gasp from Joni. He put his knowledge to good use, driving her higher and higher, until her back arched off the bed and her nails scratched his skin. He winced at the burn even though it made him want to go wild.

  He stilled as she rode out the storm of her orgasm, then he resumed his motions, determined to see her come again.

  It didn’t take Joni long to find her way back to the peak, but it appeared she didn’t like diving off the cliff alone. She cupped his face in her soft hands and forced him to look at her.

  “Come with me,” she demanded.

  She didn’t have to ask. He couldn’t have held off his own climax if someone held a gun to his head.

  He nodded, then pushed in harder. She cried out at his rough thrust. “Oh God. Do that again.”

  Eric gave her what she wanted because it matched his own needs. He increased the speed of his thrusts, Joni lifting her hips to meet him, to add to the power of the moment.

  He pounded inside her for several minutes more—resisting the overwhelming need to explode because it felt too damn good to stop. She was right. Two years wouldn’t be enough. Forever wouldn’t be.

  When Joni’s second orgasm began, her inner muscles clenching his thick flesh, he lost the battle, coming so hard he saw stars.

  Neither of them moved for several minutes, their breaths coming loud and labored. Eric wondered if she could hear the thudding of his heart, given how hard it was beating.

  Joni looked to the side briefly, then smiled as she plucked a rose petal from her shoulder. “I think I just won the petal contest.”

  He shook his head. “Nope. It’s not over yet. Still plenty of hours left for me to pull ahead. Next time, I’m putting you on top.”

  Her pussy clenched at his declaration, giving away her own desire to do just that.

  “You seem to have a problem with admitting defeat on bets,” she teased.

  Eric laughed. “And you’re always in a rush to declare a winner before the race is over.”

  “Maybe.”

  He was delighted by her answer, thrilled to see her starting to cave. It gave him hope for the future. Their future.

  He pulled out of her reluctantly, dropping to his back next to her.

  Joni stretched out like a well-loved cat and Eric suspected she would have purred if she could. “That was quite a night…and day…and another night.”

  He rolled over and ran his hand along her thigh. The touch provoked a shiver of delight. He loved the way her body responded to his. The way they fit.

  “Then what do you say we go for broke? One wild week? Month? Year? How much time do you have and how reckless are you feeling?”

  “You’re still determined to win that bet, aren’t you?”

  He chuckled. “Joni, my love, I’ve already won.” Then he made sure to kiss her so sweetly she couldn’t have offered up a smartass reply if her life depended on it.

  Epilogue

  A year later….

  * * *

  Joni didn’t “date” Eric for the next year. Instead, they went out for dinner, to the movies, attended family gatherings, weddings, and holiday office parties together as “just friends”.

  It had become a joke with their families, but neither Joni nor Eric sought to change the status quo. She truly hadn’t been ready for a new love when she’d met Eric. Hell, the body wasn’t even cold on her previous relationship. And for a few months she’d been convinced he was simply the transition guy. The one who’d teach her how to trust again. And that was what he’d done.

  Only he hadn’t gone anywhere and she sure as hell hadn’t wanted him to. She was head over heels in love with the man.

  She’d been so deep in thought she hadn’t even noticed they’d reached their destination until Eric turned off the car.

  She glanced up at the restaurant. “Charleston?”

  Eric grinned. “Don’t move.”

  Joni remained in the passenger seat and gave Eric a curious look when he got out of the car and walked around to open her door.

  “So chivalrous,” she teased. She started to get out, but Eric stopped her.

  “Not yet.”

  “What’s going on?”

  Eric leaned against her door. “Are you ready to start being honest?”

  “Start?” she asked. “Haven’t we been honest—sometimes brutally so—for the entire past year?”

  He shook his head. “No. We haven’t.”

  She frowned, confused. Then the slightest sliver of fear coursed through her. The last time she’d been in this parking lot, her cheating boyfriend had knocked her for a loop. Surely Eric wouldn’t bring her here to break up with her. There wasn’t a cruel bone in his body.

  Joni took a calming breath, certain there was a simple answer to her next question. At least, she hoped so. “What do you mean?”

  “I’m in love with you, Joni.”

  She smiled, feeling foolish for her brief bout of panic. But these weren’t new words. They’d said them before. “I love you too, Eric. You know that’s the truth, right?” Was he questioning her feelings for him?

  He nodded. “Yep. I know how you feel about me. I mean how could you feel anything less. I’m a total stud.”

  “And arrogance wins out again.” Her giggles died quickly when Eric dropped to one knee beside her. All the wind whooshed out of her lungs when he reached into his pocket and pulled out a box.

  “Holy shit,” she murmured.

  “I met you here a year ago today. I followed you out into this parking lot like some insane love-struck stalker.”

  Her lips tipped up in a smile, though tears started to form in her eyes. Good tears. Happy ones. “You did have this sort of crazed look in your eyes.”

  “And luckily for me, your resistance was low. Made picking
you up pretty damn easy.”

  “It’s not too late for me to start making it harder.”

  Eric wiggled his eyebrows seductively, which sent her eyes straight to his cock. Twelve months later and they still came at each other like a couple of oversexed, hormone-driven teenagers.

  “Stop looking at my cock, Joni, or I’ll throw you in the backseat and have my wicked way with you. And while that’s extremely tempting, I have plans tonight. A romantic proposal followed by a candlelight dinner inside.”

  “And here I was thinking you were just taking me to Denny’s for my birthday.”

  “Jesus. When have I ever taken you to Denny’s? And dammit, stop interrupting me.”

  “Sorry,” she said, waving for him to continue. “You were saying something about me being easy and you being a stalker. That’s not the romantic part, is it?”

  He winced. “Yeah. Actually, it was.” He opened the box, revealing the most beautiful—and biggest—diamond Joni had ever seen.

  Her eyes widened. “Dear God, Eric. You couldn’t find a bigger rock?”

  He laughed. “You’re the only woman on earth who would complain about the diamond being too big.”

  She flashed him an apologetic look. “That’s not what I meant. It’s beautiful. Perfect.”

  “Just like you. Marry me, Joni. Make babies with me. Grow old with me.”

  Joni was helpless to hold back the tears. She swiped at her cheeks as she nodded. “Yes. I want to do all of that.”

  Eric put the ring on her finger, and then opened his arms. She fell into them easily, knowing there was nowhere she fit better.

  He kissed the tip of her nose, then her lips. It started as a sweet kiss, but soon, it turned molten.

  When they finally parted, he glanced at his watch. “We better head inside. I have reservations for seven. It’s five after.”

  Joni followed Eric into the restaurant, marveling over the difference one year could make. She was so distracted by her happiness—and the ring on her finger—she didn’t realize Eric was leading her into a private room in the back.

  When they entered, she was shocked to see all of their friends and family there, waiting to congratulate them.

  Eric put his arm around her shoulders and announced, “She said yes.”

  At that point, they were swallowed up by the masses, engulfed in a sea of hugs and well wishes. Eric’s mother was crying tears of joy and thanking Joni for managing to get her boy to settle down.

  When they were finally able to get back to each other, Joni narrowed her eyes at Eric, though her smile ruined the effect. “A party? Awfully sure of yourself, weren’t you? Damn arrogant man.”

  “I think it’s time for you to admit you like that about me.”

  Joni pushed up on her tiptoes and pretended to kiss him on the cheek. While she was there, she whispered, “Never.”

  The sound of a champagne bottle popped, drawing them apart.

  Lucas poured each of them a glass, then lifted his own. “To the happy couple. I would have enjoyed that ten thousand dollars, but I much prefer the role of best man.”

  They all laughed.

  When her glass was empty, Eric topped it up for her, then leaned closer, tapping his against hers in a private toast.

  “Here’s to new beginnings,” he said.

  Joni smiled. “And happy endings.”

  * * *

  New to Pat’s Pub? Be sure to check out the other books in the Wilder Irish series, including Lucas and Caitlyn’s story in January Girl, available now.

  * * *

  Other books in the Wilder Irish series include:

  February Stars

  March Wind

  April Fools

  May Flowers

  Guardian Angel

  * * *

  Turn the page to read the first chapter of January Girl.

  January Girl - Chapter 1

  “Jesus. What’s he doing in here?”

  Caitlyn Wallace looked around the pub, searching for someone who could have caught her cousin Colm’s eye.

  Seeing no one of interest, she turned her gaze back to Colm. “He who?”

  “Lucas Whiting.”

  While Caitlyn didn’t have a clue what Lucas Whiting looked like, she sure as hell knew his name. The Whitings were to Baltimore what the Kennedys were to Martha’s Vineyard. There was precious little property of value in the city that the Whitings didn’t have some vested interest in.

  “He’s here?”

  Colm nodded, and then used the upswing of his chin to direct her attention to a table near the back of the pub. Three men in expensive power suits sat together, drinking pints of Guinness. She assumed the one in the center was Lucas. He was older than the other two, with gray hair, serious eyes and deep frown grooves around his mouth that told her he didn’t smile much. If ever.

  “Looks the type of a gazillionaire, doesn’t he?” she said.

  Colm turned his head, his look quizzical. “You think? I always thought he looked more like a rugby player.”

  Caitlyn turned back to the table. Clearly she’d focused on the wrong man. Once she’d spotted the older guy, she’d stopped looking. “Which one is he?”

  “Man on the right,” Colm replied before walking toward the bar. He claimed a stool and started talking to his dad, Caitlyn’s Uncle Tris, who was manning the bar.

  Rather than join him, Caitlyn remained near the entrance, so she could check out the man on the right.

  “Oh,” she breathed.

  Colm had the right of it. Lucas was built much larger and broader and more muscular than she would have pictured him. For some reason, she’d imagined a more elegant, sophisticated, clean-shaven, well-dressed, paper-pushing wimp. Lucas Whiting resembled a thug, with his wide shoulders and scruffy beard that was pushing the five-o’clock-shadow deal by a few days. He looked like the kind of guy who’d been in more than a few fistfights. He also struck her as the type who’d most likely won every single one.

  Originally, her gaze hadn’t landed on him for more than a split second because her mind had seen that build and thought “bodyguard.”

  “Can you believe he’s back here again?”

  Caitlyn glanced over at her cousin Ailis, who was waiting the tables at the pub that night.

  “Who?” Caitlyn wondered if she’d missed a step somewhere.

  “Lucas Whiting.”

  “He’s been here before?”

  Ailis nodded. “Yeah. About a month or so ago. He chatted with Tris and Ewan about selling the pub. They laughed and told him he was wasting his time. He left and I think we all thought that was the end of it.”

  “Why didn’t I know about this?”

  Ailis grinned as Caitlyn trailed behind her, so her cousin could deliver the drinks she’d been carrying. “I suspect you were knee-deep in a case. Besides, you’ve been in workaholic mode this past year since you and Sammy split. It’s rare to get your total attention.”

  Caitlyn didn’t bother to argue that point. It was true. Sammy had accused her of living inside her head. Tried to use that as a reason for cheating on her. The stupid asshole.

  Her gaze returned to Lucas Whiting’s table. He was no longer conversing with the men sitting with him. Instead, he was studying the bar, his sharp, dark eyes taking in everything around him.

  Caitlyn did the same, trying to imagine what Lucas was thinking. For a second, she heard the lines to that classic Billy Joel number “Piano Man” in her head. While it was a Friday night—not Saturday—the regular crowd had certainly shuffled in. The place was booming.

  Hunter Maxwell, one of their current singers, was on stage with his guitar and harmonica setup. He was super talented, and Caitlyn knew that was one reason the place was so crowded.

  Hunter was destined for stardom. She was as sure of that as she was that Hunter had it bad for Ailis. Ailis, however, seemed oblivious to that fact. Or she was ignoring it. Having grown up being homeschooled on a tour bus as Sky and Teagan rocked t
he world with their music for the first eighteen years of her life, Ailis was determined to live her adult years in a house without wheels. Problem was Hunter wanted the wheels, the big bus and the different-city-every-night stardom Ailis’s parents enjoyed.

  Caitlyn turned her attention away from the stage. Uncle Tris was manning the bar, talking football with Pop Pop, who sat on “his” stool at the center of the long mahogany counter, surrounded by his cronies—some nearly, but not quite, as old as him.

  Most of her friends were amazed when she told them her grandfather was ninety-two years old. He had the energy and health of someone two decades younger. He claimed it was his family that kept him going, gave him a reason to keep chugging along. Aunt Riley always said the truth of it was he was too nosy to depart this earth before he got to see how all his grandkids turned out. Which was why Riley was convinced he’d outlive them all. Caitlyn sincerely hoped that was true. She couldn’t imagine a world without Pop Pop.

  “Does Pop Pop know about the offer?” Caitlyn asked.

  Ailis shook her head. “No. Like I said, they turned it down and the guy went away. Since it was a nonissue, they decided not to bother Pop Pop with it.”

  “Good. I’d hate for him to worry about this. Although, it doesn’t look like it’s a nonissue anymore.”

  “I know. Riley said he’d be back. After all, the Whitings have been snatching up quite a bit of property in this area. Ewan seemed to think they’d convinced him they wouldn’t sell, for any price, but now…”

  Given the dark, threatening looks Tris was throwing Lucas’s way, it was obvious her uncle was on the defensive, ready to defend the bar to the death. Not that he’d have to take up that battle alone.

  She caught sight of Ewan and Riley standing just on the other side of the large opening between Pat’s Pub and Sunday’s Side, the restaurant named for Caitlyn’s grandmother, giving Lucas the same evil eye.

  One of the perks of being a member of a large family was there were never less than twenty people who had your back. Lucas Whiting would have been smart to take the original rejection and move on.