Page 28 of Taming Irish

I’ve never been great at putting on make-up. Unlike Quinn, I don’t have the luxury of working with an already perfect face. I know I’m pretty, in a kind of girl-next-door way. But after being compared publicly to Chad’s former supermodel-turned-blockbuster-actress wife, there are some insecurities that still linger in the deepest recesses of mymind.

But the way Shane looks at me, all the primal hunger and uncontained lust, makes me forget about the extra fifteen pounds I’m carrying, and all the other tiny imperfections Chad was always so quick to pointout.

Sometimes it’s just nice to be desired. It’s been a long time since I felt that. And no matter how bad of a decision I’m sure I’m making by going out on a date with this man, there’s a part of me that doesn’t just want what he’s offering, but needsit.

I debate the little black dress I broughtjust in case, but that might be trying too hard. And I don’t want him getting any ideas that just because I accepted going out with him, wherever he intends to take me, means it’s an invitation into mybed.

You know that’s exactly where this is headed,Makena.

A shiver of excitement races throughme.

Sex.

Uninhibited.

No stringsattached.

Can I really doit?

I take a deep swallow of the white wine, then after a second thought, finish the rest of theglass.

Stop being a coward.It’s justsex.

And if I’m really going to finally do this, why not do it with the smoking hot Irishman that’s sitting in my livingroom?

As weird as this whole thing is, maybe there’s a reason he foundme.

“Two-minute warning,” Shane’s voice floats down the hall. “One minute longer and I assume that means ye’ve given me permission to come afterye.”

I let the idea settle in. Just get it over with. Like ripping a Band-Aid off. Maybe then I’d finally get rid of this fear that consumes my everysecond.

You are not good enough. Five stupid words that plagueme.

“Coming,” I mutter, my fears overruling the ache that’s pulsing between mythighs.

Dressed in jeans and a plain black t-shirt, I pull an oversized, navy NYPD hoodie over my head, completing my I-don’t-give-a-crap look. I can just imagine the exaggerated eye-roll Quinn would give me if she saw menow.

Shane is leaning against the wall, his arms crossed when I exit the bedroom. “Damn, I was really hoping ye were going to make me come in and getye.”

I give a half smile, my stupid nerves making my handsshake.

“Ye okay?” Shane asks, his smile disappearing as he pushes off the wall and starts towardsme.

“I don’t…think…” I wipe my palms together, then ball them into fists to try and stop them fromshaking.

“It’s just a date, love. Nothing more.” But the way he rests a palm on my cheek and leans towards me, I know it’s so muchmore.

I want histouch.

Ache forit.

There’s something both gentle and dominating aboutit.

It’sintoxicating.

I haven’t even kissed him, and yet my body is humming in a way that I’ve never felt before. And despite every protest in my head, I do the one thing I’d never have had the courage to do before. I lean up and kisshim.

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