Page 41 of Power Play with My Brother's Irish Friends

My whimper of need spurred us both on, and when he deepened the kiss to stroke his tongue alongside mine, I pulled his shirt up to touch his bare skin. Blistering heat met my palms, the kind of heat that wound its way through my entire body and begged me to keep this going. I had to think beyond right now and to the future, to my children, and to the game I couldn’t let him miss. “You have a game.” I cupped his face in my hands and leaned back to look into his eyes. “You can’t be late.”

“I won’t be.” A low growl of need pierced the space. “Even if I was, it would be worth it to have time with you. This is more important, you are more important than the game. If I had to do it over again, I’d have used the ticket and come to New York. The guys can play without me. I can’t keep going without you.”

Good lord this man was going to be my undoing. I slid from his lap. “I need you too, but not here.” The door opened beneath my hand, and I almost tumbled out on my ass. My weak knees wobbled beneath my weight, the sunlight glazing Patrick’s face when he left the car and stopped beside me.

He scooped me into his arms and carried me up the steps and into the house, never once breaking eye contact. His soft footfalls carried through the foyer and up the steps leading to the bedrooms above. “I’ve wanted you every second of every day since I first saw you. At first, I thought it was just another fling. A one and done.” He spoke with a raw honesty that I found endearing as he spilled his secrets into my ear. “You’re so much more than a one night stand. I want you every night, for the rest of my life.”

I lifted in his arms and kissed him, stopping the torrent of words I didn’t know how to handle. He’d confused me enough already. Much more and I’d be ready to leave New York and come here to raise our children.

Patrick spun me around and hooked my legs around his waist, locking my ankles behind his back. A door opened, and we stepped into a darkened room. His room. My curiosity piqued and I glanced around as I tangled my hands in his dark hair. Dark drapes covered the windows, the color accentuating the burgundy bedspread and walnut headboard.

Holding my ass, he raised and lowered me over his dick, his lips tracing the side of my neck and drifting down over my collarbone. I leaned my head to the side to give him better access and tugged his shirt up around his shoulders. The exposed muscles bunched and flexed, the smooth skin begging for a kiss.

We reached the bed, and Patrick leaned at the waist, lowering us both to the luxurious satin cover. I dragged my heels up and down his thighs, encouraging him to come closer. “We don’t have much time.”

“I’m going to make the best of it.” He straightened and unhooked his belt, stripping off his pants and underwear with the same swiftness he’d shown at the pool. “I don’t want to rush.”

“You’re going to that game, Patrick.” I planted my palms on the bed and lifted my torso up even as he tore off his shirt and crawled toward me. “We can stop now if it’s going to be a problem.”

“I don’t have a problem.” Thick fingers made quick work of the series of buttons running up the front of my shirt. He popped them open and spread the material over my shoulders, pushing it down until it wrapped around my wrists. His head lowered, his nose pushing aside my bra and giving him access to my breasts.

I arched closer. “Patrick.” I groaned his name as months of need smothered me.

He took a nipple into his mouth, a growl of promise vibrating his chest.

After kicking off my shoes and managing to remove my shirt and bra, he did the rest, easing my pants and panties down over my hips with enough languid slowness to drive me crazy.

“I need you inside me.”

His hands were everywhere, touching, teasing, promising pleasure beyond belief. A single finger slid between my folds and into my pussy. His lips tightened on my nipple, pulling hard and quick, keeping up with the tempo of his finger plunging in and out of my slick heat.

“More.” Hands in his hair, I leaned into the bed and raised my hips. “More, Patrick. I need you. All of you.” I had no memory of the last time we’d done this. The hazy feeling that infiltrated my mind and body brought a sense of familiarity and comfort. I wanted the memory. When I returned to New York, I needed to remember every second of our time together.

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