Page 25 of Dublin Brute

He arches a brow. “I didn’t lie. Idothink you’re beautiful…despite covering every inch of your beautiful skin in the clothes of a repressed nun.”

I giggle. “Better. The truth is always better.”

He tilts his head to one side, as if considering something. “Then, in the spirit of speaking the truth…when you said you wanted to get out of those clothes, all I could think of was peeling them off you so I could run my hands over every inch of your body.”

I swallow hard as images of that fire in my mind. My pussy clenches at the thought and I squeeze my thighs together to silence the groan building at the back of my throat.

After a long moment, Brendan cracks a smile and loosens his hold on me. “Go get changed, angel. I’ll wait right here for as long as it takes.”

I’m not sure I’ll be able to walk to my front door, let alone upstairs to my room. The thought of Brendan and my room conjures another rush of erotic images, and this time, the groan escapes.

That’s embarrassing. He only asked me for coffee.

Uh…yeah, by pressing his hard cock against my navel.

Which was huge, by the way…

“Nora. Go. Change.”

Right.I step back, the butterflies in my stomach making a valiant attempt at migrating north. “Two minutes…five tops.”

His warm chuckle follows me to the door, and my mind spins.

How is this man even real?

Brendan

I hold the door open at Cuppa Jo, a boutique café that I’m super proud of. The atmosphere is that of a Parisian boulangerie with the smell of freshly baked breads and pastries mixing with the rich scent of roasted beans. The result is a lungful of bliss that wafts around us like a warm hug and makes my stomach growl loud enough that Nora turns to glance down at my stomach.

“How long were you waiting for me to come home to invite me to dinner?”

I give her a sheepish smile. “My original plan was to take you out to lunch.”

Her eyes widen. “Brendan! You waited outside my house all afternoon?”

“When you say it like that, it makes me sound creepy. I sat in my car and worked on my laptop for a lot of that.”

Her gaze softens and I like the way the light catches flecks of navy and gold swimming in the blue pools of her eyes. “Well, still. You should’ve left to get food. I bet it takes a lot of calories to fuel all these honed muscles.” She slides her hand inside my jacket and presses her palm on the ridged planes of my abs.

“So, you noticed me too, then, aye?”

She chuckles and rolls her eyes. “I’m sure you don’t need me to stroke your ego. You know what you’ve got going on here, and use it to your advantage, I’m sure.”

I study her, not sure if I should be offended by that or not.

Damn, if we weren’t already halfway inside, I would take her back to the car and explore her theories of what me taking advantage looks like.

But wearehalfway inside—and I called ahead—so it would be rude not to go in and enjoy ourselves.

Nora steps inside, and I watch her take it all in—her blue eyes sparkling. “It reminds me of Paris.”

“It should. The owner is from Saint-Germain-des-Prés.”

She lights up from the inside. “I used to live in the Latin Quarter and went to Saint-Germain-des-Prés all the time. I used to go to the Café de Flore and order their chocolate profiteroles. I’d sit there for hours and soak in the history while I sketched.”

Another couple is waiting to come in behind us, so I ease her to the side, not wanting to interrupt her excitement. “So, you’re a history buff, then?”

“It wasn’t so much about the history—it was for inspiration for my painting.”

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