- Home
- Brooke Harris
Playing Irish Page 8
Playing Irish Read online
Page 8
__________________
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Good Morning
Date: Wed 15th July 16.26
Three kisses… We’re at second base already! I
bet there is a lot you haven’t heard of. Don’t
worry, I’m a good teacher. I’ll see you at seven.
I look forward to dinner and kisses.
Yours,
Julian xxx
Eva spun her chair from side to side. She was nervous and excited, jumpy and sickly. She had no idea what just happened. Had she just flirted her way into Julian’s world? He was cocky and arrogant. But sexy and manly. Part of her wanted to grab him and slap him across the face, the other part of her wanted to push him back on her bed and fuck him until he exploded inside her. And now she was going to see him later. He was going to be right there. In person. Beside her. She would have no time to think of interesting replies to his subtle innuendos like she did with email or text. Oh, shit, what had she just done? She wasn’t ready. She might never be ready.
‘You okay, Eva?’ Nathan asked, pushing his chair back until it was level with hers. Eva instinctively jerked her mouse to hide her emails.
‘Yeah, I’m fine.’
‘You look a little pale. Are you ill?’
Eva looked at Nathan’s kind eyes. He was genuinely concerned. He rummaged in his desk drawer and pulled out a bottle of water. ‘Here, maybe this will help.’
Eva gulped large mouthfuls. She had a headache. A burning pounding that hurt her brain. Between Julian’s proposition, the stupid bare-your-soul mask, and Nathan being in-your-face nice, she was completely overwhelmed.
‘I…I…I’ve got to go. I’m sorry. I can’t do tonight now. I really am so sorry.’
Eva stood up and flung the mask into her bag, no longer caring about its delicate exterior. ‘Tell Meghan I’m not well, okay?’
Nathan nodded and shook his head at the same time. ‘You sure you’re okay?’
‘I will be once I get out of here. Will you just tell her, please?’
‘Yeah. Yes, of course.’
Eva grabbed her coat and rushed toward the door. She needed the sanctuary of her own home.
‘I hope you’re feeling better soon,’ Nathan added. Eva didn’t reply. She was already on the street in her mind.
10
Eva cursed Julian as she tried on yet another outfit. She didn’t like it. She pulled it roughly off and flung it on her bed where it rested with all the other clothes she hadn’t liked either. Eva took a break from freaking out over her wardrobe to text Nathan. She felt compelled to apologise for running away. She explained about her headache and asked to reschedule their coffee - again. He was, as always, very understanding. He just encouraged her to get some rest, and he would see her soon.
She tried to take his advice and climbed into bed with hot chocolate. She was hoping to relax for an hour or two, but every time she closed her eyes, all she could see was Julian’s face staring back at her. She wanted to hate him for causing her the worst headache of her life. She wanted to hate him for making her feel skittish and forcing her to lie to Nathan. She wanted to hate him for making her doubt everything about her dress sense, her common sense, any sense. She just wanted to hate him…but she didn’t. Finally, she put back on the dress she had worn all day. If it had turned heads that morning, maybe adding the pair of ridiculously high heels that she dragged out from underneath her bed, coupled with a hideously-uncomfortable-but-works-wonders push-up bra would turn Julian’s head.
Eva gave herself a quick once over in the mirror, completely taken aback by her own appearance. She actually thought she looked attractive. Her hair fell softly around her shoulders and her make-up was subtle and flawless. The nervous glow in her cheeks gave her an air of sensuality. She was, for once in her life, confident and calm. Of course, when the doorbell rang, that calmness quickly unravelled and sickly nerves took hold.
She hit the release button for the main doors downstairs and waited. The knock on her apartment door moments later was gentle, but she still jumped. She paced the hall three times before finally reaching for the latch. The warm glow in her cheeks had increased to a hot, fiery red and a flutter danced in her stomach like thunder clouds colliding.
The door began to quiver gently as the person on the other side knocked louder. He was growing impatient. The knocks stopped and in their place, an enticing voice called her name. Eva’s cheeks burned now. What was she doing? He was a perfect stranger. Perfect in every sense of the word. Stop, Eva warned herself. She shouldn’t be thinking like that. This was a business arrangement. She needed to be professional. Yes, that was the right attitude. Eva pulled her shoulders up, rolled them back, and let them go; exhaling deeply as her body relaxed. Just do it, she told herself. Don’t think, just do it.
She pulled the door back to find a large bouquet of red roses waiting, their beautiful bright colour begging to be touched. Their long, thorny, green stems highlighted the suited torso waiting behind them. A dark, navy suit jacket was left open to reveal a crisp white shirt. The white cotton tightly hugged a broad, slim chest. Eva’s heart raced and her breath became tiny, fragile pants. His dark, tightly cut hair matched his walnut eyes and his chiselled jaw was emphasised by a delicious grin. He was beautiful and sexy and here.
The flowers slowly moved toward her.
‘Thank you,’ she said, taking the bouquet into her arms. The scent was delectable as it wafted around her. The shiny cellophane wrapping slid in her clammy hands. She felt awkward as she turned to rest the huge bundle on the sideboard just behind the door. She didn’t trust her fingers not to lose their grasp. Scattered rose petals might well be romantic, but definitely not when they became an unpleasant consequence of sweaty, nervous palms.
Eva stared at the luscious flowers and paused for longer than necessary. A sharp cough echoed in the open doorway. She knew she would have to turn and face Julian soon, but her nerves were playing havoc with her ability to think straight. She allowed herself just a moment longer to fiddle with their silky petals.
‘Ouch,’ she moaned softly, cradling her finger. A tiny droplet of blood rose to the surface of her skin.
‘Did it prick you?’
Eva barely registered Julian stepping across the threshold of her apartment. He stood right behind her, leaning his toned abs against her back.
‘Let me see.’
Eva quietly turned around and held her hand out to him. A thin sliver of blood trickled down the length of her finger. Julian took her hand in his and slowly ran his lips across the red stain.
‘There. All better,’ he said, ending with a small kiss on the tip of her finger.
Eva almost forgot to breathe. He was beyond sexy. He was every bit as gorgeous as he appeared on her laptop screen just nights ago, but now he was here. A living, breathing, touchable – oh, how she wanted to touch him - man.
‘So, tell me. How is it that a pretty girl like you finds herself in need of my assistance?’
Eva blushed.
‘Oh, no need to be shy. I’m not hitting on you with a cheap line. If I wanted to get your attention, I’d come up with something a lot better. This is a done deal…you’re paying after all. So, you see, it was a genuine question.’
Eva tried to come up with a response that didn’t make her sound like a complete ass-hat, but she wasn’t having much success. She couldn’t even speak. Her tongue felt three times its normal size and all she could think to do was blow a giant raspberry and run away to hide. Luckily, she managed to keep her mouth closed.
‘Good thing I like a girl with rosy cheeks,’ Julian said brushing the back of his hand softly against her face.
‘Coffee?’ The word tumbled from Eva’s mouth like an order. She quickly backtracked. ‘Would you like some, I mean?’
‘Yeah, sure…coffee would be good.’
Eva turned her back, leaving Juli
an lurking in the hallway. She raced to her tiny kitchenette and filled the kettle while tapping her foot as if it would force the water to rush faster from the faucet. She swung open presses, pulled out teacups and sugar, and spun in various different directions until she felt dizzy. She turned to the fridge in search of some milk. She was out.
‘Crappity-crap, fuck,’ she said through clenched teeth. Her foot tapping became an angry stomp. It was only a minor hiccup, but Eva was bordering on a breakdown. If her face flushed any harder, she would burst a blood vessel. She stopped and stood very still. She breathed in for the count of three, and out for three, and in for three. Yoga, yoga, yoga. Breathe, breathe, breathe. I am the master of my own destiny. She repeated the mantra several times, hoping to believe it. Nonsense, she thought, finally becoming uncomfortable with the huffy- puffy breathing technique. I’m not the master of shit.
She looked at her poorly stocked wine rack. Her eyes pleaded with the dusty rack to hold at least one bottle of wine. She pulled out three empties, there purely for effect, and finally reached for a heavier bottle at the back. It was red. She preferred white, but right now, she would drink acid. She couldn’t care less as long as it was a liquid in a glass and something she could offer Julian. She turned the bottle around until the label faced her and blew gently, casting off little flecks of dust. Shiraz Noir. She wondered if that was a nice wine. She polished the murky bottle with the corner of a damp dishcloth and grabbed two wine glasses from the cupboard.
The glasses dangled upside down from her trembling fingers as she walked back toward the open-plan lounge. The glass stems clattered and chimed, announcing her arrival into the room. Julian was still standing by the doorway. He hadn’t moved. Oh shit, she had forgotten to invite him in. She was a terrible host. This had all gone so differently in her head. Although, what she’d thought about was mainly fucking him until she couldn’t stand up straight.
She placed the glasses and wine bottle on the coffee table and walked, slightly wobbly on her high heels, over to him. He didn’t turn around. He was looking at the pictures on the wall.
‘That’s me,’ she said, breaking the silence.
Eva examined the image behind a pretty glass frame. Her hair was different, dyed blonde and shorter, and she wore a confident smile emphasised with ruby red lipstick.
‘It’s a great photo,’ Julian said genuinely.
‘Thanks. It was taken at my graduation. It was a good day.’
‘You look beautiful.’ Julian ran his finger across the cheekbones of Eva’s image. ‘Beautiful.’
A tiny sigh escaped Eva’s lips, and she tried to control the emotion that stung her heart.
Julian turned to face her. His huge chestnut eyes stared into her murky green irises. She knew he could see her tears, but he didn’t speak. He just continued looking, his stare never faltering.
‘I don’t look at that picture often. I haven’t looked at it in years,’ Eva admitted.
‘But it’s right by the door; you must see it every time you leave the apartment.’
‘It’s behind the door,’ Eva corrected. ‘It’s just there for my mother’s benefit.’
‘Your mother lives here?’ Julian’s relaxed pose tensed and his chest puffed out like a caged bird.
‘No, of course not. It’s just there for when she visits. My dad had taken it the week before he left. So, it could be a nice reminder for her.’
‘Does it remind you?’
‘Unfortunately, yes. Yes, it does.’ The tears Eva had fought so well fell now like tiny raindrops that landed on the lapel of her dress.
Julian placed his hand on the small of her back and turned her away from the wall. ‘Shall we?’ he said, tilting his head toward the sofa.
Eva nodded. He caught her by surprise. She was expecting questions. Everyone always asked questions. You admit you didn’t like to remember your estranged father and most people wanted to know why. Not Julian. Julian didn’t mention the picture again.
‘Is there somewhere I can leave this?’ Julian asked as he slid his jacket from his shoulders and draped it over his arm.
‘Erm, yeah sure,’ Eva lied. She didn’t have a cloak room in her tiny apartment. She didn’t even have a coat hanger. She usually just stuffed her jacket in her wardrobe or flung it on the bed.
‘I’ll take it for you.’ She reached out.
Julian handed it over, his hand brushing against hers. Eva’s heart fluttered as she walked away. She held the jacket in her hands, careful not to crease the finely pressed material. She laid it flat on her bed and couldn’t resist a little sniff. Delicious, it smelled like citrus and rum-spice. It smelled of Julian. She was standing back up when she suddenly became aware of Julian behind her. She jumped.
He raised his eyebrows and smirked. Eva cringed - mortified. He had caught her sniffing him, not even him - his clothes. She wanted to duck under her duvet and hide.
‘Nice?’ he asked casually.
Eva tried to act calm. There was nothing weird about inhaling the scent of a stranger. Oh, hell, who was she kidding? The whole situation was weird. It was uncomfortable and now to make things worse, his fabulous chiselled jaw and broad shoulders were causing her panties to dampen at a rate even a marathon sprinter would struggle to outrace. He pulled her upright and nuzzled his face against her neck. She heard him take a slow deep breath.
‘Mmm, lavender,’ he whispered.
His skin felt like warm silk against hers. He was lying. She had forgotten to put on perfume.
Julian produced the bottle of wine from behind his back, followed by the glasses. He gently pushed Eva back to sit on the bed. She landed on his jacket but didn’t even notice the material crease beneath her weight. She couldn’t take her eyes off him as he poured two glasses one-third full of bright, red wine. He handed her one. His large hand cradled the entire cup of the other as he swished the liquid in circular motions, around and around. He stopped, smelled the aroma, and rocked the glass from side to side. He looked like he knew what he was doing, and she wondered if she should copy.
‘Cheers.’ He tilted both his glass and his head toward Eva. He sipped a little.
‘It’s good,’ he said, scrunching up his nose.
Eva placed her glass to her lips and slugged huge mouthfuls, not lowering it until it was almost fully drained.
‘Yes, good,’ she replied, followed by a small hiccup.
Julian laughed. ‘Thirsty?’
Eva nodded, her balance slightly thrown. The wine, on an empty stomach, had gone straight to her head.
‘More?’ he suggested, tipping the bottle into her glass.
‘Are you trying to get me drunk?’ Another hiccup shook Eva’s body.
‘Would that be a problem, Evangeline?’
Eva shook her head. His voice was crisp and assertive, but soft and inviting. It matched his confident stance.
Nothing Julian did would be a problem.
Eva raised the glass to her lips but froze as she felt Julian’s hand wrap around hers.
‘Share,’ he said.
Julian slowly ran his tongue across his bottom lip and tilted the glass away from Eva. His hand, still cupping hers, raised the glass to his lips and he took a slow, steady gulp, emptying it.
‘Hey, that was mine.’ Eva tried to joke, but she was sure the quiver in her voice made it come out awkward. Damn being a social introvert.
Julian raised his eyebrows just enough to slightly wrinkle his brow. He flung the glass on the bed. Eva turned her attention to the shiny crystal as it collided with the soft, fluffy pillows. Her heart raced as Julian’s right arm slowly crept around her back, clutching her waist and pulling her closer to him. She swallowed hard. Each deep breath pushed her breasts against his firm chest. His body was so close that she could feel the heat of his breath as he leaned lower and softly pushed his lips against hers. She paused, barely able to move. He pulled back. Eva kept her eyes closed for just a moment longer than she needed to, her bottom lip dropped, ju
st a little - begging for more.
‘You’re beautiful, Evangeline.’
The corners of Eva’s lips twitched and a tiny smile lit up her face. It wasn’t just a compliment; it was the best compliment she had gotten in her whole life. She wanted him to say it again, she wanted him to kiss her and tell her that she was beautiful. Eva felt Julian’s fingers under her chin, softly tilting her head back. His grip on her waist tightened. She was wedged firmly between the bed and Julian’s body. She couldn’t move, even if she wanted to. She didn’t want to.
Julian’s finger traced the contours of her neck, down and down, stopping just shy of her breasts. His fingers spread and his palm rested on her racing heart, his hand rising and falling with the heaving of her quickened breathing.
‘Are you ready?’ he asked.
Eva opened her eyes to meet his. The question, ready for what ran through her mind, but for once, she managed to stop herself from saying something stupid. She didn’t need to ask. To her surprise, she was ready, so ready.
‘Yes,’ she whispered.
‘Good. I want you, Evangeline. I want every piece of you. Can I have you?’
Eva was beyond words.
Julian pressed his mouth against her neck. Soft kisses dampened her skin. The tip of his tongue ran down her soft flesh, and he nibbled gently above her collarbone. Eva sighed as tiny shivers tickled the length of her spine. Julian’s hands began to wander over her clothes; they massaged her back and tugged at the zip of her dress. The crackle of the zip slowly opening challenged Eva’s soft panting for a chance to be heard. Eva bit her bottom lip – hard – and waited for the top of her dress to slide free from her shoulders.
Eva shivered; the cool air met her skin as the material fell to her waist. She gasped as Julian’s hands brushed over her bare flesh. Her bra posed no challenge for him as he undid the clasp with a skilful twist of his fingers. His tentative lips never faltered as they worked their way lower, stopping just above her exposed breasts. Eva’s back arched and Julian’s lips brushed gently against her nipple. It hardened under his touch. She wanted to feel his mouth around it. But he didn’t fixate on sucking them, as she expected. He lightly flicked his tongue across, appreciating the entire breast, teasing her.