Sheer Luck Read Free

reddish highlights and would look
perfect wrapped around my hand.
    “Thank you.” Smile. “You’re not hard on the
eyes either, Declan.”
    I groaned. It couldn’t be helped. The way
she said my name had me past half-mast. She had a soft tone that
drifted like smoke and clung to everything within range.
    I raked my gaze over her, loving her
hourglass shape. She either had great genes or worked out
regularly. Her hottest asset wasn’t her rack or her legs, though.
It was her understated self-assurance. She didn’t flaunt her
intelligence or shy from a compliment. And her sense of humor?
Needless to say I had to adjust myself on the stool.
    Impatient, I dialed my voice to hoarse.
“Would you like you take this conversation to a more private venue?
My apartment, for instance?” My fingers clenched my glass again. I
never took women to my place. It was theirs or a hotel. I didn’t
like the invasion of privacy or the possibility of one of my lovers
going stalker. It hadn’t happened, but call me paranoid.
    And without hesitation, I’d invited her as
if I hadn’t set that rule for a reason. By the look on her face,
she was considering.
    Her gaze skimmed the tats on my right arm
that disappeared under my white tee—a sleeve of writing in Gaelic.
“I don’t date men with tattoos.” She said it without any criticism
or condemnation, as if she was testing me, not being
judgmental.
    A rough laugh dragged from my throat.
Remembering the shamrock tattoo on her nape, I lifted my hand and
skimmed my fingers over her neck. A caress. Light. Sensual. “Said
the woman with her own ink.” I ran my fingertips in a slow circle,
teasing her hair and eliciting a shiver from her. “And, a mo
rún , I never said anything about dating.”
    I dropped my hand and she sucked in a
breath, pink tingeing her cheeks. I swallowed another groan at her
responsiveness.
    Aiden stepped away to take care of a
customer. I waited until he was out of hearing range, then asked,
“How do you know my brother?” I knew Liam’s teachers and
babysitters, and she wasn’t one of them. Aiden didn’t get out much.
He lived at the bar, and I would’ve recognized if she was a
regular, so I was more than curious.
    “We...” She brushed away a strand of hair
from her face and gave a slight shake of her head, as if deciding
not to divulge the information after all. “I’ve known him a couple
years. We’re friendly acquaintances.”
    I nodded like that was enough for me, which
it wasn’t. “Have you slept with him?” I was pretty certain she
hadn’t, since Aiden didn’t date or screw. I didn’t share and,
despite wanting her more than was wise, I’d slam the brakes right
now if she’d been with Aiden.
    Her gaze whipped to mine, wide. Appalled.
“No.”
    I nodded again. “Are you married?” She
didn’t wear a ring.
    She shook her head, and I was nearing the
end of my rope. For seven months she’d been in my head, one way or
another. I wanted her under me, on top of me, bent over the nearest
hard surface.
    “Then there’s nothing stopping us, a mo
rún. ” The huskiness in my tone wasn’t deliberate, but my cock
twitched against my zipper as her pupils dilated.
    Her teeth sank into her lower lip. “What
does that phrase mean? You keep using it.”
    I knew I had her. Instinct and her signals
told me. It was all I could do not to stroke myself through my
jeans. I leaned close to whisper in her ear, making sure my lips
caressed the shell. “It’s Gaelic and means my secret.”
    She shivered and I smiled in satisfaction.
We were gonna be so fucking good. I nuzzled my nose against the
soft spot behind her ear, breathing in her light perfume, before
easing away. She looked at me through heavy lids, her lips parted
with shallow breaths.
    Fuck, yes .
    I tucked a piece of hair behind her ear,
letting my touch linger on her cheek. “Hand me your phone.”
    A tiny wrinkle formed between her brows.
“What?”
    “Your phone. May I see it?”
    She