Forever His Baby (An Ireland Forever Short Story) Read online

  Forever His Baby

  An Ireland Forever Short Story

  Kim Loraine

  Copyright © 2019 by Kim Loraine

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Epilogue

  Read all of the Ireland Forever Short Stories

  Also by Kim Loraine

  About the Author

  Brenden

  I’ve never seen myself as the type of idiot who’d fall for a lass the first time she gave me a smile, but it happened, and now I’m done for. I’ve seen her time and time again at The Brass Kraken, but she’s always been with friends. Now she’s here, sipping a pint with some guy. I hate him.

  “You know, if you stare at her long enough, she might call the police and then your pub will be out of business because the owner is an arse.” My brother, Thomas waggles his eyebrows and I bristle. He’s just fucking with me, but he’s right.

  “Stop running your mouth about things you don’t understand,” I growl. The rowdy crowd cheers when the band I’ve brought in for St. Patrick’s Day starts up with a cover of Dropkick Murphys’ I’m Shipping Up to Boston. “Why did you come in tonight if you’re just going to take the piss?”

  He laughs, that hearty, full-bellied laugh he got from our father. “Brother, I understand plenty about the way you’re lookin’ at her. She’s a fine thing, to be sure.”

  “She’s here with her fella. It’s not worth wasting my time.” I down my pint and move to head back to the bar.

  “Feck off! You don’t expect me to believe that load of shite, do ya?” He shoves my shoulder and laughs. “You’ve mentioned this American beauty more than once. Now’s your chance. By the way he’s ignoring her, I’d say he’s not going to have her much longer.”

  As if by magic, the guy drops some money on the table and gets up, leaving her alone with a frown turning down those perfect lips. Instead of leaving, she finishes her drink, then takes her date’s nearly full pint.

  “Go on, it’s the perfect time. Just put a sock on the doorknob if your room’s occupied.” Thomas winks and nudges me with his elbow.

  I roll my eyes, but laugh along with him. Then her eyes find mine across the pub and I stop laughing. I let my feet lead me to her, nerves mixing with confidence in a strange cocktail of emotions. All around me are customers celebrating Paddy’s Day, dancing, singing along, and drinking. I weave through the crowd until I find myself at her table, hand on the back of the chair vacated by her date.

  “You mind?” I ask, not really sure what the fuck I’m doing, but I don’t want to leave her in my busy pub all alone.

  She gestures to the seat and says, “Go ahead.”

  “You an American?” I ask as I slide onto the seat.

  Raising her glass, she takes a drink, then sets it back on the table and nods. “I am. Let me guess, you’re a good old Irish boy who wants to try some American tourist on for size?”

  I nearly choke on my beer. “What? Why would you say that?” Part of me is hurt she doesn’t know who I am. I own the damn pub and she’s here every week. I’m not exactly invisible. We’ve exchanged hellos.

  “Because the guy who just left asked me if I’d ever had an Australian kiss…in Irish gaelic. I guess he thought I wouldn’t be able to understand him.”

  I try not to laugh, I really do, but that pickup line is the worst I’ve ever heard. “So what did you say back to him?”

  “I told him how I liked my eggs in the morning.”

  I frown. “How’s that?”

  “Unfertilized.”

  This time I can’t stop myself. I laugh hard. “In Irish, I assume?”

  “Of course.”

  Her dark wavy hair falls over one shoulder and my fingers want desperately to feel if it’s as soft as it looks. “How’d you come to know Irish?”

  “My gran is from Cork. She brought me up with stories told in Irish. I’ve wanted to come here since I was little. So, I came for my final semester abroad at Trinity.”

  My brows lift at the mention of Trinity College. “I have to admit, I’ve seen you hear a time or two. How long are you in Ireland?”

  “I’m actually leaving soon. But first, I’m supposed to meet up with some friends for a concert.”

  “Is it Blackthorn?”

  She nods. “Some friends of mine turned me on to them when I moved here. I doubt I’ll get another chance to see them perform live.”

  “They’re wicked live. I’d go, but my brother and I leave tomorrow morning to head home to our ma’s. Our wee sister is getting married on Tuesday.”

  She grins. “Really? Where are you from?”

  “Thomas only lives about an hour outside of Dublin, but he looks for any chance to get away from home. Ma still lives in the same house we grew up in. That’s in Killarney.”

  “And you?”

  I grin. “I’m here.” I motion upstairs. “This is my pub. I’ve got a place above.”

  “You own this place?”

  A light laugh falls from me. “Ma was none too happy with my choice to move out here, but…the heart wants what it wants.”

  Her gaze drops to my hands and then back. “You followed a girl?”

  “I did. Then she left, but I stayed.”

  She reaches for me, her fingers brushing mine on the table. “I’m sorry.”

  I shrug. “I’m not. She wasn’t who I thought. We were barely out of school and fancied we’d have this wildly romantic life together. Turns out, you have to work hard to provide a life for someone. She didn’t like that.” Dragging a hand over my jaw, I sigh. “Now I own my own bar. I’ve got myself a home, a dog, and more than I could’ve asked for.”

  “What’s your name?” Her question catches me off guard. Have I never told her my name in all this time?

  “I’m Brenden.”

  “Emma.”

  I know her name. I’ve known it since the first night she walked into my pub. But I don’t tell her that. Instead, I shake her hand and stare into her crystal blue eyes. “It’s lovely to meet you, Emma.”

  She doesn’t drop my gaze, a connection sizzling between the two of us. Then she takes back her hand and raises her glass. I follow, the two of us clinking them together and uttering, “Slàinte.”

  “So, I’m off to a concert, you’re off to a wedding. We might never see each other again.” Her words make me uncomfortable, like she’s saying goodbye before we really get started.

  “Skip the concert. Spend the evening with me. It doesn’t have to stop here.”

  “I don’t want it to, but realistically, I’m leaving for good after the semester is over. You’re settled here. I’m just starting to plan my future.”

  “Wrong place, wrong time,” I mutter. In reality, I waited too long. I hesitated to make a move because of all my fucking baggage and now I’m going to lose her.

  “You know, Brenden, I’ve been waiting for you to talk to me for months.”

  My heart lurches. She’s been what? “Pardon?”

  “Waiting. Why else do you think I come in here every week?”

  “I…fuck,” I mutter. She’s been waiting for me to make a move all this damn time and now I’m going to lose her. “I didn’t realize—”

  “So, let’s make
the most of what we have left.” Her words are low and seductive. “I may be at the end of my time here, but I’d much rather spend one night with you than go see a band play. I think you’re better than any rock star I could ever find.”

  My God, this woman. Emma’s sweet and beautiful, sure, but she’s also different from any woman I’ve ever been with. But I don’t think I could have a taste of her and let her go. “Did you just proposition me, lass?”

  She smiles and my cock forgets all my reservations. “I did.” Then she turns bright red and covers her face with her fingers. “God, I can’t believe I did that. You must think I’m desperate.”

  I want to tell her she’s my daydream come to life, that I’ve been falling in love with her slowly over the last few months, but I don’t want her to think I’m daft. “You’re…perfect.”

  She peeks at me from between her fingers and smiles. “Really?” When I nod, she relaxes a bit, taking a long drink of her beer. “I’ve never had a one-night-stand, but you’re everything I want with your dark hair and green eyes, and I’ve spent every day of my life being careful. It’s time to live a little.”

  “Are you sure what you really want is one night?”

  “It’s all I can offer.”

  I grin. “Maybe I can sweep you off your feet with my Irish charm and you’ll never want to leave.”

  “That remains to be seen.”

  The music changes and I take her hand. “Come on, darlin’. Let’s dance before I wake up and find out this is all a dream.”

  She giggles and lets me pull her onto the dance floor. The music is upbeat and the two of us dance until we’re out of breath and laughing. Having her in my arms is exactly what I’ve fantasized it would be.

  “Brenden?” she asks, stopping our motion and staring up at me.

  “Emma?”

  “I’m ready for you to sweep me off my feet now.”

  I should be worried about what my staff or my patrons think, but I don’t give a damn right now. I do what she says. I sweep her into my arms and carry her toward the back of the pub. Thomas laughs when he catches sight of us, raising his pint in cheers. He’s got a buxom blonde in his lap and his attention is blessedly diverted almost immediately. This is my time with Emma and I don’t want any distractions.

  On our way up the stairs, she threads her fingers through my hair and an ache builds in my cock. I want her so fucking badly I could burst. “Emma,” I groan. “Fuck, Baby, I want you.”

  “Me too, Brenden. I’m so glad you came to my table.”

  I shove open the door and carry her inside, not bothering to flip on the lights. My big, fluffy Australian shepherd runs up to us, his tail wagging and tongue lolling. “Not now, Bingley,” I grumble.

  “Bingley?” Emma asks with amusement clear in her tone.

  I shrug. “My sister named him. She’s got a bit of a Jane Austen obsession.”

  “So does my mom. It’s why my name is Emma.”

  I stride into the bedroom and kick the door closed, leaving Bingley outside. He’ll get his chance to win her heart, but it’s my turn now. “If we only have tonight, Emma, I want to make sure we both never forget this.”

  “Then can you turn on a light? I want to see you.”

  I set her on her feet and switch on my bedside lamp, bathing us both in soft light. Then, I tug my shirt over my head, never breaking eye contact save the second the fabric passed over my face. I love the soft gasp she gives me, the hungry glimmer in her eyes. She steps forward and her fingers graze my bare chest, tracing the lines of my tattoo.

  “The tree of life.” Her fingernails skim the ink etched into my skin, sending a rush of pure arousal straight to my already hard length.

  “Do you have any?”

  “Tattoos?” She cocks a brow and smirks. “I have one, but you’ll have to find it yourself.”

  Reaching for her, I grab her by the waist and tug that perfect body into mine. “Challenge accepted.”

  Slowly, I tug her top over her head, watching as the light casts shadows along her curves. Her bra is light blue lace, thin enough I can see her nipples, and fuck, I want to pull one into my mouth and suck until she cries out. I drop her shirt and sit on the bed, bringing her with me as I go. Her tits are eye level, and I’m ready to make her moan. I lean in, ready to dive into her, but she stops me.

  “What?” I ask.

  “You haven’t even kissed me yet.”

  Fuck, she’s right. I’ve been so wrapped up in being here, with her in my room, I forgot the thing I’ve fantasized most about. “I’d better remedy that straight away.” I pull her down until she’s straddling my thighs and in one second flat, I’m kissing her luscious lips.

  The taste of her mouth is better than I ever imagined. Sweet cherry, vanilla, and…Emma. My tongue presses into her mouth and she lets out a soft sigh that’s erotic as fuck. Her hips grind against mine as our kiss goes from hot to scorching and I never want to give her up. I don’t know how, but I have to convince her to stay.

  “Brenden,” she moans, her kisses trailing over my jaw and down my throat. “Why did we wait so long?”

  “I have no fucking clue.”

  She reaches around and unclasps her bra, letting her breasts fall free. Her nipples are dusky tips, tightened to hard little points, begging for attention. I dip my head and claim one between my lips, sucking and swirling my tongue. The arch of her back and low, throaty moan that comes from her sends desire straight to my dick. I move to her other breast, doing the same while she grinds on me and makes me buck into her.

  “Why do we have so many clothes on?” she asks, her voice a breathy wild thing.

  I don’t answer, instead I grip her hips and stand, before turning around and dropping her onto my bed. She squeals and laughs, but quickly goes silent when I reach for my belt buckle. When she takes her full bottom lip in between her teeth, I have to bite back a groan. She slips her shoes free of her feet and shimmies out of her black jeans while I undress at the end of the bed. Her knickers matched the bra, but my favorite part is the damp spot between her legs where she’s obviously wet for me.

  “You’re like a goddamn fantasy,” I murmur.

  “So are you.”

  “I still don’t see any tattoos.”

  She smirks. “I guess you’ll have to keep looking.”

  I shove my boxers to the floor and climb onto the bed, but I don’t miss the look of surprise when she sees my erection. I’m not a small man. Gripping the waistband of her knickers, I slide them down her curvy hips and over her thighs. I press soft kisses to her belly, hips, navel, and then I reach her wet and ready cunt. I have to stop and admire her for a moment, pink and glistening, so perfect. “Remember, there’s a bar downstairs. Scream into the pillow if you have to, Baby.”

  Her eyes widen when I part her thighs and hitch them over my shoulders. Then I focus on the part of her I want to taste. She’s sweet and warm, and when I sink my finger inside her as I suck on her swollen clit, I have to stop myself from finding my release right then and there. In no time I’ve got her biting down on her fist, writhing under me, gripping my hair so hard it hurts.

  “God, Brenden, I need you now.” She’s begging and I’m not going to deny her anything.

  I crawl up her body and fit myself between her legs, the weeping head of my desperate cock nudging at her wet entrance. “Okay?” I ask.

  She nods and wraps her legs around my hips, kicking her pelvis up until she takes me inside her. “Yes,” she moans. “I’m so fucking good.”

  My God, but she’s heaven. I move slowly at first, needing to get a handle on myself before I lose control and this is over before it really gets started.

  “Please,” she begs. “I need you to move.”

  So, I do. I kiss her long and deep, rolling my hips, pumping in and out, taking her higher and higher. She’s clawing at my back and her kisses turn to bites on my shoulder as her tight heat clenches around me. Then I feel it, that rush of wetness that only ac
companies the pinnacle of pleasure. Her body grips me like a vise and I’m over the threshold of what I can handle.

  “I’m going to…” I start, but I’m overcome by the realization of why this feels so fantastic. I’m not wearing a condom. I pull out of her, spilling jet after jet of my release over her pussy as I groan her name. “I l—” I almost say the words that have been in my heart for the last few months, but I stop myself, falling to the bed and kissing her shoulder instead.

  After cleaning up, I worry Emma will leave or that things will get awkward between us. Instead, she snuggles against my chest just like she belongs there. Maybe it feels that way because it’s true. She was made for me.

  I stroke her hair, loving how the silky strands slide between my fingers. “Stay the night,” I tell her.

  Her answer is a soft hum of approval. She wraps her arms around me tighter and layers kisses to my chest as the two of us drift off to sleep. But one thought circles my mind.

  I can’t keep her.

  I wake to the feeling of someone poking my bare arse. At first I think it’s Emma, trying to rouse me for another round in bed.

  “Didn’t get enough last night?” I grumble.

  “Feck off, I got plenty from Clarice…Clara…Cleo? I can’t remember her name.” Thomas’s voice pulls me from my fantasy of another moment of shared intimacy with my Emma.

  “Jesus, Thomas, what are you doing here?” I sit up, reaching for Emma to cover her from my brother’s sight, but she’s not in my bed.

  “I’m staying in your guest room, or don’t you recall?”

  “Where is she?” I ask, getting out of bed.

  “Fucking hell, Brenden, put your cock away! I might’ve bathed with you as a baby, but I don’t need reminding of that now.” He slaps a hand over his eyes and leaves the room.

  I grab my discarded boxers and tug them on, my back and shoulders smarting from the scratches Emma left while I was making her scream.