and out of his hair before he did something he regretted.
“Ardan, if you don’t put me down right now, I’ll—”
“What?!” he shouted, finally putting her in the passenger seat of his Ford and strapping her in. “You’ll. Do. What?”
Her jaw clenched as she sat back, folding her arms across her chest. “You made me drop my shoes. Could you please go and get them?”
“Are you shitting me?” His brows rose.
Hers did the same. “I paid four hundred dollars for those. If you don’t want to hear me complain the whole way back home, you’ll go pick them up.”
Ardan bit the inside of his cheek and closed the passenger side door, stalking off to find her beloved shoes. Damned woman. For the brief period of time that he’d known her, she’d done nothing but make him want to fuck her through a mattress or spank her ass.
Maybe you can do both, at the same time, his cock whispered. Those copper eyes, full lips, dimpled smile and gorgeous body all made him want to do things to her. Dirty things.
“Shut. Up.” His eyes searched the parking lot but he didn’t see those damned shoes. Then he heard it, the sound of an engine starting.
Freezing, Ardan patted his back pocket where he’d slid his keys and came away with nothing. “Son of a bitch!” When he turned around, he watched the taillights of his truck head onto the main road before it disappeared altogether.
Oh, if he hadn’t planned on taking his hand to Sirai’s ass before, he damn sure did now.
Sirai pulled up to The Shamrock and hopped out of Ardan’s truck, knowing better than to go home. The more public the place, the safer she’d be. She was crazy, not stupid. Once he finally found her...
That’s your ass, chick, your whole ass...under his hand...for a long time. Was it wrong that at the thought, her clit chose that very moment to break out in the lambada with a small shimmy shake? Chills raced up her spine as her nipples hardened. Shaking her head, Sirai eased her heels back on and made her way into the bar and restaurant. Carrick would protect her for the time being...hopefully. From the day she’d met Ardan he’d been a pain in her ass. She didn’t understand why he couldn’t be more like his brother Braedan, or his dad. They actually had a sense of humor.
Every move she made, he and those damned hazel eyes followed her. When she messed up, he was there to point out the facts and examples of why and how. It drove her crazy. But then there were small moments when Ardan looked at her, when it felt like he was sincerely seeing just her and not the mistakes she made, where she melted. Those rare times when he smiled, and for once she wouldn’t feel like such a fuck-up. Then there were days like this where shit just went downhill as soon as they got into one another’s presence.
It wasn’t like Sirai tried to get into trouble. She just did. If there was a way to trip and fall, Sirai would find it. If there was a new way to get a mild concussion, Sirai would find it. If there was a method of getting a new bruise, scrape, scratch, or cut, Sirai would find it. Then there was her penchant for trying to solve problems on her own—which didn’t always involve legal methods—that got Sirai her frequent run-ins with the law. Albeit, not purposely but she did it so successfully, with so much style, that after the age of ten, she just decided to embrace the fact that she was Murphy’s Law incarnate.
If it could go wrong with Sirai involved, then there was no doubt that it would. Amazingly enough, the only thing she seemed to be successfully coordinated at was slinging drinks in a traditional Irish pub. Who would’ve figured?
She’d been working with Ardan in his father’s bar and restaurant for the past five years, and the first day she’d walked through the door she’d nearly put him in traction. It wasn’t on purpose or anything. It just sort of…happened. Sirai had enough horrible job interviews and damned if she
“Ardan, if you don’t put me down right now, I’ll—”
“What?!” he shouted, finally putting her in the passenger seat of his Ford and strapping her in. “You’ll. Do. What?”
Her jaw clenched as she sat back, folding her arms across her chest. “You made me drop my shoes. Could you please go and get them?”
“Are you shitting me?” His brows rose.
Hers did the same. “I paid four hundred dollars for those. If you don’t want to hear me complain the whole way back home, you’ll go pick them up.”
Ardan bit the inside of his cheek and closed the passenger side door, stalking off to find her beloved shoes. Damned woman. For the brief period of time that he’d known her, she’d done nothing but make him want to fuck her through a mattress or spank her ass.
Maybe you can do both, at the same time, his cock whispered. Those copper eyes, full lips, dimpled smile and gorgeous body all made him want to do things to her. Dirty things.
“Shut. Up.” His eyes searched the parking lot but he didn’t see those damned shoes. Then he heard it, the sound of an engine starting.
Freezing, Ardan patted his back pocket where he’d slid his keys and came away with nothing. “Son of a bitch!” When he turned around, he watched the taillights of his truck head onto the main road before it disappeared altogether.
Oh, if he hadn’t planned on taking his hand to Sirai’s ass before, he damn sure did now.
Sirai pulled up to The Shamrock and hopped out of Ardan’s truck, knowing better than to go home. The more public the place, the safer she’d be. She was crazy, not stupid. Once he finally found her...
That’s your ass, chick, your whole ass...under his hand...for a long time. Was it wrong that at the thought, her clit chose that very moment to break out in the lambada with a small shimmy shake? Chills raced up her spine as her nipples hardened. Shaking her head, Sirai eased her heels back on and made her way into the bar and restaurant. Carrick would protect her for the time being...hopefully. From the day she’d met Ardan he’d been a pain in her ass. She didn’t understand why he couldn’t be more like his brother Braedan, or his dad. They actually had a sense of humor.
Every move she made, he and those damned hazel eyes followed her. When she messed up, he was there to point out the facts and examples of why and how. It drove her crazy. But then there were small moments when Ardan looked at her, when it felt like he was sincerely seeing just her and not the mistakes she made, where she melted. Those rare times when he smiled, and for once she wouldn’t feel like such a fuck-up. Then there were days like this where shit just went downhill as soon as they got into one another’s presence.
It wasn’t like Sirai tried to get into trouble. She just did. If there was a way to trip and fall, Sirai would find it. If there was a new way to get a mild concussion, Sirai would find it. If there was a method of getting a new bruise, scrape, scratch, or cut, Sirai would find it. Then there was her penchant for trying to solve problems on her own—which didn’t always involve legal methods—that got Sirai her frequent run-ins with the law. Albeit, not purposely but she did it so successfully, with so much style, that after the age of ten, she just decided to embrace the fact that she was Murphy’s Law incarnate.
If it could go wrong with Sirai involved, then there was no doubt that it would. Amazingly enough, the only thing she seemed to be successfully coordinated at was slinging drinks in a traditional Irish pub. Who would’ve figured?
She’d been working with Ardan in his father’s bar and restaurant for the past five years, and the first day she’d walked through the door she’d nearly put him in traction. It wasn’t on purpose or anything. It just sort of…happened. Sirai had enough horrible job interviews and damned if she
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