“Maeve.”
“Hmm?” Maeve was in her office, head bent over some papers.
“We need to talk.”
“What is it, muirnín?” She lifted her head, concern shadowing her eyes. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I wanted to talk to you about you forgetting it was Tuesday. Forgetting your bridge game.”
Maeve’s lips thinned. “It’s no big shillelagh. Everyone forgets things sometimes.”
“Yes. But you’ve been forgetting lots of things.” Keara sat down on a chair beside the desk. “You forgot I was coming. You forgot you’d received that shipment.”
Maeve waved a hand, but her lips trembled. “It’s nothing, Keara.”
Keara leaned forward. “I’m worried about you.”
Maeve gave a strangled laugh. “You’re worried about me? Don’t be silly, muirnín! I’m fine. I’m seventy years old. It’s natural for the memory to fade.”
“Yes, I guess it is. I just wondered if you’d talked to your doctor about it.”
“No, of course not! What’s he going to do? He’ll just tell me I’m getting old.”
“But what if it’s not just age? What if it’s something…more serious.”
Maeve stared at Keara, her face lined with horror. “What are you saying? Do you think I have… I have…the Alzheimer’s?”
“No. I don’t know. Probably not. But it might be an idea to see your doctor.”
Maeve shook her head, her bottom lip protruding. She folded her arms across her chest. “I don’t want to know. If that’s what it is, I don’t want to know.”
“Oh no! Maeve!”
“It’s true.” She stared back at Keara, her stubbornness shining in her green eyes. “Don’t you know the Irish philosophy?”
“The…no.”
“In life, there are only two things to worry about—either you’re well or you’re sick. If you are well, there’s nothing to worry about. But if you’re sick, there are only two things to worry about—either you’ll get well, or you’ll die.” Maeve smiled. “If you get well, there’s nothing to worry about. But if you die, there are two things to worry about—you will either go to heaven, or hell. If you go to heaven there’s nothing to worry about. If you go to hell, you’ll be so busy shaking hands with all your friends you won’t have time to worry!”
Laughter bubbled helplessly out of Keara. “Oh, Maeve.”
“We’re all going to die, muirnín. I’m seventy years old. I want to live my last days enjoying them, not worrying about dying.”
Keara smiled tremulously. “You know, I actually think I get that. But for me, would you go to the doctor? Just to make sure you’re okay?”
“No, Keara. I’m not going to the doctor about something so silly.”
Keara regarded her great-aunt, her mouth set, chin tipped up, and sighed.
Shane showed up every night now. “I’m fine now,” she told him, folding her arms across her chest, shaking her head. “You don’t need to keep checking on me.”
He moved closer to her and bent his head to nuzzle the side of her neck. She smelled so damn good. “But I wanted to see you.”
“But Maeve’s here.” She laid her hand on his chest. Their eyes met and warmth slid over her.
“Isn’t this Tuesday?”
“No!” She laughed. “You know it’s not Tuesday.” Then she frowned. “Which reminds me. I talked to Maeve. About her memory.” She glanced down the hall, telling him Maeve was nearby.
“Why don’t we go out for a drink?”
“Good idea.”
“Maeve! Shane and I are going out for a drink.”
Maeve emerged from her bedroom holding a book. “Excellent idea. Have fun.”
Shane grinned and grabbed Keara’s hand. “My purse!” she said. “And maybe a jacket.”
He waited while she disappeared to her own room, remembering the last time he’d been in there and the hot fun they’d had. He watched Keara return, her soft leather bag slung over one shoulder, a tiny denim jacket now over her long-sleeved black T. Baggy cargo pants should not have been so attractive, but they did hug her ass in a very sexy way.
They walked down the dark street to Brady’s Pub. They found a small round table unoccupied in a dark corner. Keara studied the room. “This is very cute,” she said. “I’ve never been here.”
“You’re kidding me. Not even the last time you were in Kilkenny?”
‘I was seventeen.”
“That never stopped me,” he said with a wicked grin and she laughed.
She nodded at the sign over the bar. “I like that.” She read it aloud. “‘When we drink, we get drunk. When we get drunk, we fall asleep. When we fall asleep, we commit no sin. When we commit no sin, we go to heaven. So let’s all get drunk, and go to heaven!’”
Shane leaned toward her. “Let’s go to heaven, a thaisce. What would you like to drink?”
She laughed. “Would I be kicked out if I ordered a glass of Chardonnay?”
“Probably not.”
The waitress approached them and Shane ordered her wine and a Guinness for himself.
“So,” he said, elbows on the table. “You talked to Maeve.”
Her mouth pouted. “Yes. And it didn’t go very well.” She related her conversation to him.
“Damn.” He studied his hands clasped in front of him. “What do you know about Alzheimer’s?”
She looked pained and gave a snort. “All I know about is that Gary’s wife had it and she had to be put in a home.”
He nodded, sorry that this had come up and reminded her. He reached out and covered one of her hands with his, gave it a squeeze. “I don’t know much either. Maybe we should do some research. I don’t think there’s a cure for it, but…maybe there’s something they can do if they catch it early enough.”
“I’ll go on Maeve’s computer and Google it tomorrow.”
“Good idea.” His fingers stroked over her soft hand. Then the waitress arrived with their drinks. He released her and leaned back in his chair.
“My parents are having another party this weekend,” he said. “Wanna come?”
She blinked at him. “Did they invite me? Me and Maeve?”
“I’m sure they would.”
“Shane! You can’t invite people to your parents’ house without them knowing.”
He cast her a sexy smile. “They won’t mind.”
“I think Maeve has a date with Glen.”
“Ah. Well, you can still come.”
She tipped her head to the side and sipped her wine. “Why?”
He shrugged and looked at his beer. “Why not?”
He realized that a party at his parents place wasn’t exactly an invitation to have sex. Which is what they’d been doing. And she’d made it clear that’s all it was. Healthy, hormone-inducing, stress-relieving sex.
He wanted more than that.
The thought sliced through him so sharply he almost gasped. What the hell was he thinking?
“Never mind,” he muttered. “Bad idea.”
Now she reached for his hand and wrapped slender fingers around his. “I’ll come,” she said softly. “I like your parents.”
He looked up at her, then away, and gave a jerky nod. “Okay. Good.”
Even more people filled the Dunstan home than the last time she’d been there, and Keara let Shane introduce her to so many, she’d never keep track of all the names and faces. She smiled and made small talk as they worked their way through the house to the bar set up in the kitchen and Shane handed her a glass of wine.
“Thank you.” She smiled up at him, and then his mom spotted them and rushed over.
Hugs and greetings were exchanged. “So nice to see you again, Keara! I’m glad you could come.”
“I hope I’m not imposing.”
Fiona laughed and waved a hand. “Don’t be silly! Look at this place! There’s always room for one more. Come and have some food.”
She led them over to the buffet loaded with mouthwatering dishes. Keara began filling a plate, watching in amusement as Shane loaded his to the point of overflowing.
“Hungry?” she asked.
He glanced at her as he balanced more potatoes on his potatoes. “Yeah.”
She shook her head. He was a big muscular guy, he must burn a gazillion calories. Lucky him.
They found a place to sit and eat, and Declan joined them for a few moments, too, greeting Keara warmly.
“Thank you for having me,” she said.
“Any friend of Shane’s is always welcome here,” Declan said, and gave Shane a knowing look that had her feeling warm and shifting in her seat. What were they thinking? She’d been afraid of this. They couldn’t exactly tell Shane’s parents they were just having sex.
She choked on her wine and Shane patted her back. “You okay?
She nodded. Her eyes fell on an unusual stone on a shelf nearby. “That’s pretty,” she said. “Is that a shamrock carved on it?”
“Yes.” Declan reached out and picked it up. “Funny you should notice this. Maeve gave it to us.”
“Really?”
“Yes. It’s Connemara Marble. Hand-carved stone. It’s a traditional gift between families who vow friendship through generations.”
“Oh.” Something inside her chest softened. “That is so nice.”
Declan smiled. “She’s a good friend.” And then he lifted a brow and looked from Shane to Keara. “And speaking of generations—you two are our next generations, so it’s fitting that you be friends, too.”
She glanced at Shane. Hell, she’d tried to change the subject and ended right back where they started.
Shane met her eyes. “Yeah,” he said. “Friends.”
She felt her gaze snared by his, and heat rose inside her. She liked this man. She really liked him. He annoyed her with his overprotectiveness and bossiness, but damn…she did want to be friends with him. She supposed they were friends. Friends who were sleeping together.
She took another big gulp of her wine. Declan was pulled aside by other friends and was soon involved in telling a long joke about an Englishman, an Irishman and a Scotsman. Keara and Shane sat there and listened, and when Shane reached for hand and wrapped his warm fingers around it while they laughed, she didn’t even mind.
After a while, Shane leaned close to her ear and whispered, “Wanna go to my place?”
She looked at him and pursed her lips against a smile. Her tummy tightened and warmth spread through her body.
“Sure,” she replied, and she gave him a mischievous look. “I have some things for us to try.”
His eyes went dark blue. “What things?”
“Some um…things. From Maeve’s shop.”
He coughed. “Really? Like what?”
“I have a selection of items,” she replied. “Some different toys, depending on your uh…preferences. And massage oil. Cotton candy flavor. And some honey dust.”
Shane’s gut cramped and his dick twitched, his head full of images of him massaging Keara’s naked body. Then her massaging him. And then…toys. What kinds of toys?
“Let’s go.” He grabbed her hand and all but dragged her out of his parents’ house.
He was hard as steel when they walked in to his place, Keara carrying a large shopping bag he hadn’t noticed her slip into the back seat of his car earlier. What the hell did she have in there?
He took her jacket and hung it in the closet and they stood in his spacious foyer, white tile gleaming beneath the modern steel and glass chandelier. Their eyes met. She held up the bag.
“Want to know what’s in here?” Her wicked smile teased and tempted.
“Hell yeah.”
“Let’s go upstairs.”
“Good idea.’
He followed her up the stairs, unable to take his eyes off the curves of her sweet little ass as she climbed. The things he wanted to do…
He swallowed a groan as he followed her into his bedroom. The room was dark so he flicked on the lamp mounted on the wall beside the bed and started unbuttoning his shirt.
She grinned and sat on the bed, then upended the bag and dumped out an array of products. Shane recognized some of the items, but was shocked to his core that Keara wanted to try these things. He searched her face. She looked eager, aroused…wow.
“What should we do first?” she asked, biting her lower lip as she surveyed the goods.
“Uh…Keara.”
She glanced up at him and he dropped his hands from his open shirt and stepped toward her. “You really want to use these things?”
She frowned. “Why? Don’t you? Oh God. I’m sorry. I thought…”
“No, no! I’d love to try these things with you.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You’ve used these before, haven’t you?”
“Well yes.” He hoped that wasn’t going to piss her off. But on the contrary, her frown cleared.
“I thought maybe you were too prudish to use these,” she said with a breathy laugh. “I thought I’d offended you.”
“God no! I’m uh…up for anything.”
“Yes, you are,” she murmured, glancing at his crotch.
His chest tightened. “I just wasn’t sure if you…have you used these things before?” Images of her with another guy using those toys on her flashed into his mind along with a wash of hot jealousy.
“Well…no. But I’ve been curious and…” She bit her lip and peered up at him through her lashes. “Maeve says the more sex you have, the more you want, and I guess it’s true. I just want it all the time…and these things in the store made me…” Her voice trailed off and she clasped her hands on her lap.
He smiled. “I know.”
He stepped closer and reached for her hands, drawing her to her feet. “Let’s start with a massage,” he murmured, lifting the hem of her shirt. Loose and billowy, it slipped easily over her head. She wore—dear God—red lace beneath it, a low-cut push-up bra that made the most of her small cleavage. He sucked in a breath, and found the button and zipper of the skirt she wore. “Do the panties match?”
“Of course.” She smiled up at him as he revealed the lace boy shorts.
“Oh.” His breath whooshed out of him. “These are nice. Very nice.” He turned her around to get the back view. Her butt cheeks were only half covered by the lace, tempting him to reach out and touch. So he did.
“Better take these off,” he said, through teeth clenched with restraint. “So I don’t get massage oil on them.”
She slipped her fingers inside and shimmied out of them. She pushed the toys to the carpeted floor, but kept the bottle of massage oil and handed it to him, and the look she cast him as she did was so sexy he thought he was going to come right then.
He quickly removed the rest of his clothes while Keara lay down on the bed. “Turn over,” he said. “I want to start with the back.”
Obediently she rolled, and he sat down beside her, and popped open the massage oil. He squeezed some in a drizzle down the center of her back and she squealed.
“You’re supposed to warm it in your hands,” she gasped.
“Oh. Right.” Next time. He set the bottle aside and went to work, smoothing his hands through the oil and over her silky skin. She was smooth and small and delectable and he wanted to touch every inch of her.
She let out a long moan of pleasure and he moved lower, to her butt, caressing there with firmer strokes.
“That feels so good,” she murmured, head turned to one side on her folded arms.
“Good.” He enjoyed the feel of firm curves beneath his hands, admired the gleam the oil gave her skin in the lamplight. “You’re so beautiful, Keara.”
He moved his hands lower still, to the back of her thighs and she quivered. She liked that. He liked it too. He massaged down her legs, spent time on her small feet, and then moved back up and when he reached the top of her thighs, he pushed her legs apart so he could slide fingers between them.
Another breathy moan escaped her but she allowed him access, and he stroked slick fingers down the crease between her cheeks, lower into her soft folds, back up, teasing the small entrance there. He watched in delight as her muscles flexed and relaxed. “Oh God,” she groaned. He probed gently again and her cheeks tightened around his finger. “Relax,” he murmured. “Want me to get one of the toys?”
She lifted her head and looked at him, eyes heavy and drowsy. “Okay. But on one condition.”
He lifted a brow.
“You let me do the same thing to you.”
Whoa. What he’d had in mind…he’d done to partners, but had never had it done to him. His own butt cheeks clenched and his dick hardened even more. He sucked in air. “Okay,” he wheezed and reached for the toy he had in mind, flexible pink silicon beads of gradated sizes.
He rubbed oil over it and then slowly, gently began pushing it into her, the smallest bead first. Her ass lifted, and he slipped his other hand beneath her to find her clit. His hand was oily but she was wet, and he found the hard little nub with his thumb while he played with her behind. The room filled with her gasps and soft cries. Her hands clenched on the duvet cover and he studied her profile outlined against it, the small nose, feathery eyelashes, her top teeth sunk into her bottom lip.
She lifted against him almost involuntarily until she gave a harsh cry and her body tightened. “God!” she cried. “Oh God!” He kept his thumb on her as he slid the toy out of her, slowly, bead by bead, drawing her orgasm out as long as he could.
She lay there, her ribs lifting and expanding and she took in deep breaths, eventually relaxing. He kissed his way up, from each butt cheek, up the curve of her back to the base of her neck, where he nuzzled her beneath her hair.
“That was so good,” she moaned, and rolled to her side. He lay on his side in front of her and put a hand on her smooth waist.
“You are so hot.” Eyes fastened on her face, flushed and glowing, he leaned in for a kiss and their mouths met and clung in a long, searing kiss. Then he rolled to his back and flung his arms out to his side. “Okay, my turn.”
She laughed and reached for the massage oil.
Keara straddled Shane’s thighs and flipped open the cap of the bottle she held. She poured oil into her palm, closed the bottle and tossed it aside. Then she rubbed her palms together, all the while watching Shane. He hadn’t moved, still lying there, arms outstretched, and she slid her slick hands up over his chest. She lingered on his pecs, rubbing him there and earning a small groan. His eyes fell closed.
She leaned over and kissed his mouth, sucked his bottom lip, then shifted a little lower to kiss his chest. She nibbled on one small nipple with her lips, flicked her tongue across first one, then the other, making Shane groan again and twitch.
She kissed her way down his taut abdomen, sucked on his navel, kissed the soft skin just below it. Then she nuzzled the dark curls, breathing in his male scent. Her hands slid up his legs, her fingertips teasing the sensitive skin of his inner thighs and then she pushed his legs apart. His cock thrust up, solid and broad, the veins prominent, the head glistening. She swiped her tongue over it, swallowed the taste of him.
She loved the smell of him, the taste of him, the way his cock got so hard for her. With a sigh of pleasure she kissed the tip, then took hold of it and rubbed it over her lips. Before she got started though, she needed something… She reached over the side of the bed and felt around for the toy she’d brought…there it was. She straightened, holding the small black latex toy.
“What is that?” Shane croaked.
She smiled and held it up. It looked like a small, oddly curved dildo. “It’s a Boy Toy.”
He blinked, eyes focused on the small device.
“A male G-spot stimulator.” Her smile widened. The things she had learned since working in Maeve’s shop!
“Male G-spot?” His voice sounded thick.
“Otherwise known as the prostate.”
“Oh.”
At the look on his face, she smiled again. “You said I could do the same to you.”
“Uh…”
“Sshh.” She wriggled herself into position between his thighs and circled his cock with her fingers. “Just relax and enjoy.” And she took him in her mouth. He filled her mouth and she let her tongue wet him, slid her lips up and down the thick shaft. Delicious. Hot. Thick. He bumped the back of her throat.
“Christ, Keara.” His hands lifted to her head and gathered her hair up in big handfuls. “Oh Christ.”
She sucked on him for a few wonderful minutes then let him slid from her mouth. She held his cock up flat against his abdomen and kissed and licked his balls, nipped at the flesh of his inner thighs, then pushed his balls high too, and licked below them.
“Fuck!” he groaned. “Oh fuck.”
Her tongue tasted and teased the tight flesh. She let the Boy Toy fall to the mattress and used both hands to push his thighs wider, wider, then up and back, exposing more of him to her mouth. She sucked on the smooth, firm flesh of his buttocks, licked up and down, around his anus.
He made a strangled noise, let go of her hair and grabbed his legs just below the knees, holding them up, rolling his hips off the mattress. Again, she took her time, playing there with lips and tongue and teeth, while his body shook and tensed. He wasn’t stopping her. He seemed to like it. That was good. Very good. Because she’d never done this before and she wanted him to enjoy it.
She’d been studying for this.
She stroked a fingertip over the puckered hole. Once. Twice. Watched it wink at her. One more time, and then…she pushed her fingertip inside.
“Jesus!” His hips lifted in reaction, and he pulled his legs higher yet. God that was hot. So hot she lost her breath, pulled back just to look at him for a moment, lying there, his cock and balls held out of the way, his ass on display for her. God she loved his ass. A rush of liquid heat surged between her legs. This was turning her on as much as it was him.
She pumped her finger in and out, not far, just inside the tight ring of muscle that clamped around her, while Shane made strangled moaning noises. “Fuck, Keara. What’re you doing…?”
She didn’t answer. He knew exactly what she was doing. She leaned down and let saliva slip out of her mouth and over his perineum, let her finger get wet with it, pumped a few more times, then withdrew. Time for the Boy Toy.
She poured some of the oil onto it and rubbed it all over, then tucked the rounded end of it against Shane’s anus. She held it there, just nudging for a few seconds, and then pushed it into him slowly. Very slowly. She didn’t want to hurt him since this apparently was his first time…she thought.
He made a guttural noise and she looked up at his face, his eyes squeezed shut, his square jaw rigid. “Okay?” she whispered.
He made another choked noise but it wasn’t a no, or a get-that-thing-out-of-me. So she kept it inside him with one hand while she held his cock with the other and took him in her mouth again. She sucked. He bucked. She fucked his ass with the toy. Lava-hot arousal flowed through her body, gathering in her pussy.
“Gonna come,” he gasped. “Sorry…fast…aw fuck!”
He spurted into her mouth, tangy and hot, and she sucked and swallowed and held the toy inside him while his whole body jerked and jumped. When he finally stilled, she slowly released him from her mouth, loving the feel of the ridge of the crown as it slid through her lips, and slowly pulled out the Boy Toy.
“Holy shit,” he muttered. “Holy fucking shit.”
She tossed the toy aside and slid up his body in a sensual slide of oil and sweat. She kissed his mouth, and he turned his face toward her and kissed her back, his mouth urgent, hungry, hot. His arms came around her and squeezed her so tightly she almost couldn’t breathe.
“Was that okay?” she finally asked, pressing her cheek against his.
“That was unbelievable.” He still sounded as if he’d just run a marathon, his chest still heaving beneath her breasts.
“But good unbelievable?” she persisted, wanting to make sure she really hadn’t done something he didn’t want.
“Oh yeah. Hell yeah.” Again he caught her hair in his hands, held her head and kissed her. “Hell yeah.”