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Chapter Eight
Finn
With a cupof coffee in my hand, I leaned against the doorjamb of my bedroom.
As expected, the mice that were Aidan’s clean-up crew had infiltrated my home and the evidence that had sullied my salon had disappeared while we’d slept.
The hall-long blood stain had been cleansed away, even the stains on my upholstered dining chair.
Even though the architect had gone, even though traces of his ‘excretions’ had, too, I’d still been pissed at the necessity.
I couldn’t even say that it was the first time Aidan had pulled such a dick move before, just never in my goddamn home.
That was the trouble with my line of work, though. Nowhere was sacred.
As I took a deep sip from my mug, I kept my gaze focused on the woman currently dressing herself.
She didn’t know I was there. Hadn’t for the past ten minutes.
Her lack of environmental awareness concerned me, even if Iknewthat I’d been purposely clandestine with my movements. I was standing on the outer side of the bedroom door, not the inner, and I hadn’t announced my presence.
With Aidan bouncing around like a demented basketball, the last thing I needed was Aoife being totally unaware of her surroundings.
Still, even as I groused, I didn’t make a move to announce the fact I was there.
Why would I?
I’d loved watching her dress.
Normally, I liked watching a womanundress, but with Aoife? The tiny moves she made were almost as sensual as a strip tease.
I loved that she’d asked for a pair of my briefs to wear under her jeans. Loved it. Fuck. She wasn’t coy. Hadn’t made a joke about going bare. But my underwear rubbed against her cunt and would do so until I took her home. . . .
That got my cock way more excited than it should have been after last night.
I swear, I hadn’t climaxed as hard and as often as that since I was a kid.
I wasn’t exactly old, but you aged fast in this business. The stress levels weren’t exactly easy to monitor, and when you were feeling overwhelmed, it wasn’t like you could take a six-month sabbatical and go away to drown your sorrows on some Caribbean beach.
I’d never been on vacation.
Ever.
I guess if I’d asked Aidan, he’d have granted me some time, but in his defense, he never stopped working, either. None of us did.
It was that kind of fast-paced lifestyle.
While I was only thirty-seven, I still had thirty-seven years’ worth of experience, and in those many years, I’d never had a night like I had last night.
Aoife was so earthy, so goddamn sensual that it seemed to flow from her to me.
Anything I’d wanted, it hadn’t been too much. She hadn’t been coy then, either. She’d thrown herself into everything we’d done with a passion I’d never felt before.
It made me wonder how many women who’d writhed under me had gotten off like she had. Had they faked it? The thought should be a bruise to my ego, but it wasn’t. Not when Aoife had responded to me like a duck took to water.
Just watching her drag my briefs over the curve of her ass, seeing the fabric tauten around her butt and hips, pull tight around her thighs, had my eyes narrowing. I could see from her cheeks she was flushed. She tutted at how small the briefs were on her, and I didn’t have to be a mind reader to know she wasn’t happy about that.
Aoife wasn’t a small woman.
