Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
She jumped, guilt beating in time with her heart. “My life works right now.” Sort of. “I don’t need the kind of trouble that comes with dating the son of an Irish mob boss.”
“Sweetheart, you don’t have to convince me. I’m not exactly a catch.” If anything, his attention only got more intense. “But I’d be lying if I said last night didn’t make me stop short and take notice. I know you felt it.”
Was still feeling it, even with the bar between them. Her skin tingled and her nipples tightened just from the look he gave her. The sex was so good. Maybe one more time couldn’t hurt…
No. Absolutely not.
She twisted the rag, realized what she was doing, and dropped it. “I didn’t feel a thing except a mildly pleasant orgasm that took the edge off. I don’t want anything more from you.”
Her words didn’t faze him. If anything, he looked even more interested. “I’m not offering to take you home to my parents, sweetheart. I’m talking about sex—the hot and sweaty kind—where we fuck until we can barely remember what day it is, and then both walk away better off than we started. Simple. Uncomplicated.”
“That’s some line.” And it was—a seriously good one. A date didn’t tempt Olivia—or at least that was what she told herself when loneliness became too much to bear—but a few hours? What could go wrong with a few more hours of escape? It was all too easy to picture what he meant. Maybe he had a place around here where they could slip off to after her shift. He’d shove her against the door and kiss her and…She realized she was pressed against the bar, as close to him as she could possibly be without climbing over the scarred wood.
What the hell is wrong with me? Last night was a onetime-only kind of thing. Doing it again was too dangerous to even consider. Too selfish.
She had Hadley to think about. It was one thing to have Mrs. Richards watch her daughter while she was working to bring in money that they desperately needed. It was entirely another to request a babysitter so she could go get her rocks off with an O’Malley, who was just a different shade of Romanov. She knew the type. She’d grown up surrounded by them. This man might seem like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders, but he’d cleave to his family’s wishes time after time. Nothing else would be permitted to get in the way.
He’s not asking for forever. He wants to blow your mind a few more times and get his blown in the process. And it would be good. You know it would be good.
Yeah, she did. It didn’t matter. She couldn’t risk it.
“Thanks, but no thanks.” Olivia took a step back. “I need to do my job.”
“By all means.” He motioned with the glass.
“I don’t need your permission.” She hated how sharp and brittle she sounded. Hated that she could feel him watching her hurry over to the vacationers to refill their drinks. Most of all, she hated that she didn’t completely hate the feeling.
* * *
Cillian drank his apple juice and watched Olivia work. She was as skittish around him as a wild animal. He’d been around the block enough times to recognize the desire written across her face when he’d talked about another night of uncomplicated sex, but she’d shut him down so fast, it was a wonder his head didn’t spin.
Last night she’d said it was a onetime thing. That should have been the end of that, but that sex…fuck. It had been quick and dirty and hotter than it had any right to be, and even with what happened afterward, he couldn’t get that bright spot in his memory to leave him alone. He knew it could be good between them if she’d give him a chance at a repeat.
Doesn’t matter. She said no tonight, and so I’m backing the fuck off.
Even in his idiot party days he was a big fan of that little thing called consent. There was nothing that pissed him off more than watching some fool chase after a woman who obviously didn’t want him, and seeing that slide from annoyance to fear on a woman’s face…Yeah. Cillian had thrown down more times than he cared to count over that sort of thing when he was in college.
He didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable. That was the last thing he wanted. This was her workplace, and he’d just made things worse by coming on to her after she expressly told him there wouldn’t be a repeat. I should leave, but I’m not ready to give up Jameson’s. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
There was no help for it. He’d have to apologize. It was the only chance to put them back on the right foot. Or it would have been if they’d ever been on the right foot.