Page 25 of Shamrock Kisses

She takes me deep, and with every inch, my obsession with her grows. Watching her, the way she moves, the way she takes all of me—this is everything.I wasn’t lying when I said she was everything. I meant it.

“This is the best blow job of my life.”

Her eyes flick up to meet mine. I can barely breathe. “Sexy,” I whisper, utterly captivated. She’sworshipingme, and I’ve never felt more wanted, more needed. Her tongue, her lips—fuck.

I’ve never believed in fate, not really. Buthow elsecould I explain this? How the fuck would I have ever met her if it were not for this weekend?

A huff escapes me, the pressure building, tightening. I run my hand through her hair, knowing deep down I’ll never get enough of this—of her.

“I’m right there,” I breathe, my voice thick with need. She speeds up, her rhythm perfect. “Fuck, baby. This is so good.”

Staring at her, fantasizing about a future with Rachel, I explode into her mouth.Fuck, that was intense.

20

As I towel off and start to dress, Patrick’s eyes linger on me, and I love it. I love how he looks at me. Pulling on my jeans, I ask, “How about instead of you taking me out for dinner, we order Chinese food and cuddle on my couch?”

His big smile is instant as he pulls his own jeans on. “Whatever you want.”

I know he means it, that he’s sincere, and I love that. “I want you to sleep over … but I want us to wait to have sex. I don’t want to rush that.”

“I don’t want to rush that either.” He grabs my hand, yanking me in for a hug, and I rest my head against his chest, squeezing him tight. “Cuddling on the couch is exactly what I want to do with the rest of the evening,” he says, playing with my hair.

“Go put your glasses on,” I say, leaning back to stare into his green eyes. “I want you to be in max comfort mode at my house. So, actually … you need to change. I want you in sweatpants and a hoodie too.”

“Demanding, kitten.” He kisses my forehead and steps back into the bathroom. I flop onto the bed, a little smile glued to my face as I wait for him.

Those black plastic frames. “The glasses are a very hot vibe,” I say when he reemerges.

“I can’t wait to see you in your glasses.”

He drops his jeans, and yup. Patrick’s the living embodiment of my mood-boarded perfect man. Thick and strong, and my mind begins to wander.

“I cannot wait to be tangled up with you on the couch.”

“Tangled?” He raises a brow, pulling on sweatpants and tossing on a hoodie.

“I’m a cuddle monster, so you will be begging for me to get off of you.”

“Never,” he says in a light laugh.

Patrick extends a hand as he approaches the bed, and I grab it. Hand in hand, we walk down the stairs.

“Let me tell Brandon about my plans.”

I smile up at him, and we search the house until we find Brandon cooking in the kitchen.

He smiles seeing us, and his eyes fall down, looking at us holding hands. “Where are you two off to?”

“Rachel’s place.”

21

Brandon extends a fist for a bump, and I release Rachel’s hand.

“So proud of you,” Brandon says quietly, tapping his knuckles into mine. His eyes have that look—I mean I got lucky, but not that kind of lucky that I think he’s assuming. We smirk at each other until he says, “You need to be back by noon tomorrow.”

“Sounds good.” I nod, leaning against the kitchen counter. “Sorry we didn’t get to hang.”

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