My Wild Irish Dragon (10 page)

The only look he received that he could interpret was one of sympathy from Miguel's wife.

Had they been feeling sorry for him? That would truly suck. He wished he could tell them about his relationship with Chloe, but he didn't know what it was yet.

He didn't want to spook her by asking her out on a date. At this point, it was enough just to spend time with her. Her smile, which used to be seen so rarely, seemed to appear just for him as soon as he walked into any room. He couldn't help returning it too.

No wonder the guys suspected their attraction. He had to figure out a way to make this thing work—whatever it was.

* * *

“So how are we gettin' to this game?” Chloe asked. “Together? Or should I meet you there?”

Ryan chuckled. “I'd better take you since you've never been to the Garden. The place is huge.”

“You're not worried about anyone seein' us together?”

“The odds are pretty slim.”

Chloe had been trying to figure out if this was a date or just a couple of buddies enjoying a game together. Either way, if he planned to pick her up, she wanted him to keep thinking she lived at Rory and Amber's place. Her apartment in the building next door was right across the hall from the city's only paranormal club
.
An accidental fang sighting near her apartment would be hard to explain.

“Okay. Well, you know where I live. What time should I be ready?”

He glanced at the tickets. “The game is at seven thirty. Would you like to grab a bite to eat beforehand?”

She sighed inwardly. Again, the invitation could go either way. “A bite to eat” could be a casual date or just buddies filling their bellies. Well, she'd
put the ball back in his court
. From her quick research on the game of basketball, she'd finally made sense of another American expression.

“What would you like to do?” she asked.

He shrugged.

At last she lost her patience. “Oh, I give up! Is this a date or isn't it? It makes no difference to me either way. I just want to know.”

He laughed. “I was trying to figure that out myself.”

“Good lord. We're a couple of pathetic friends, aren't we?”

Ryan moved closer and whispered, “I don't think friends kiss with tongue.”

At last she had her answer. This
was
a date. Now she just had to figure out how she felt about that.

Aw, hell. She was
delighted
.

“I don't see a garden,” Chloe said as she glanced around the steel, glass, and concrete structure. Their bleacher seats were a few rows from the hardwood. “Even the restaurant didn't have a hint of green.”

Ryan laughed. “The name goes way back. I don't know if it ever had anything to do with flowers. This isn't the same building that used to be called The Boston Garden. That thing was condemned and this new one was rebuilt on the same spot.”

“So why is it called the TD Garden?” Chloe asked. “Does that stand for something, like ‘Total Dude's Garden'?”

He grinned, but at least he didn't laugh at her. “No. It was named after a bank.”

“A bank? What does banking have to do with basketball?”

“Well, I'm not sure how to answer that. I'd have to say ‘nothing and everything.' Most arenas and stadiums are named after whoever put up the most money to build it.”

“Oh.” She couldn't help sounding disappointed. Modern America seemed to worship nothing but the almighty dollar. She wondered what Mother Nature would think of this “garden.”

Ryan gazed at her. “Were you expecting a botanical garden or something? We have one of those too. Just not here.”

She smiled. “No. I didn't have any real expectations. I'm just interested in seeing this new game of yours.”

“New game?” He laughed. “Are you one of those Europeans who think everything in America is modern just because we've only been a country for two hundred and fifty years or so?”

She snorted. She quickly covered her nostril in case she accidentally blew out a stream of smoke. He certainly didn't know that most of what existed in Ireland was modern to her.

St. Patrick had tried to evict all reptiles from Ireland in the fourth century. Her race had managed to survive in caves off the western coast, so they existed even before that. No one knew when the original dragons appeared. She supposed she could ask Mother Nature sometime, but chances are she'd get some kind of snarky or bored response.

A few minutes into the game, Chloe was catching on…although there was nothing more Irish about it than the team's name and shamrock emblem on their uniforms. The game wasn't very complicated.

But there was one thing that made her cringe—okay, there were two things. The way they mispronounced Celtics with a soft C, and the painting on the floor of a little man spinning a basketball on the end of his finger.
He
reminded her of Shamus—the leprechaun who blamed her family for stealing a pot of gold. And then all the leprechauns kicked the remaining Arish dragons out of Ireland over the misunderstanding…and that's how she'd wound up in Boston in the first place. Well, actually the second place. The first place they'd landed was Iceland, but the language was so difficult she had been relieved when they'd decided to move to Boston shortly after that. They'd learned English when the rest of Ireland had to.

Then she glanced up at Ryan. If that hadn't happened, she'd never have met this handsome firefighter. And she'd never have been kissed like the world could end at any moment.

She took another gander at the leprechaun painted on the floor a few rows in front of her and was able to crack a smile.

Ryan tipped up her chin with his finger. “What is it?”

“Oh, nothing. My mind was just wandering.”

Suddenly the guy behind Ryan tapped his shoulder. “Hey, look!” He pointed to the large screen overhead in the middle of the arena. Large flashing letters spelled out
Kiss Cam
.

“Oh no,” Ryan groaned.

“Kiss her, kiss her, kiss her,” the crowd chanted.

Shite.
“Can everyone see that? Even the people watching at home on TV?” she asked.

“Yep. And the only way to make it stop is if I kiss you.”

When she glanced up at the giant peeping Tom, it didn't seem to be moving away and the crowd was obviously not satisfied. They began booing.

Ryan cupped the back of her head and moved in. The crowd began chanting again, and after he had kissed her for several toe-curling seconds, the crowd cheered.

“And that was the kiss cam,” Ryan said, grinning.

“I feckin' figured that out for meself. So, do you think anyone we know saw that?”

“Unless every firefighter in the district went to the fridge for a beer at that exact moment, I think it's a guarantee.”

“Shite. We're screwed. Forgive me for this.”

“For what?”

She pulled back and slapped his face, hard.

* * *

Ryan stuffed his hands in his pockets and strolled beside Chloe on their way out of the arena.

“I know I said it before, but I'm sorry for slappin' you,” she said.

He smiled. “Actually, that was smart. We sure don't look like we're dating now.”

After a brief hesitation, she gazed up at him with something unfamiliar in her eyes. Sadness? Remorse? Whatever it was, he didn't care for it. Not on her.

“Do you forgive me?” she asked.

He hooked her arm and halted. “Here's how much I forgive you.” He swooped in and kissed her, long and slow.

She ran her fingers through his hair, returning his kiss. The fervor built and the rest of the world fell away. Distantly he heard catcalls and comments like, “Oh,
now
she kisses him!” and “Make up your mind, girl!”

When he heard the inevitable “Get a room” comment, he broke the kiss. Between panting breaths he whispered, “I think that might be a good idea.”

“What idea?” She was breathing hard too.

He whispered right in her ear, “Getting a room.”

When he leaned back to gauge her expression, he had no trouble interpreting it. Her mouth hung open and her eyes rounded.

Shit. I shocked her.

He was just about to apologize when she nodded. “Yes,” she whispered. “Let's.”

* * *

Was she really going to do this? Sleep with Ryan?

Part of her wanted to run, suspecting the inevitable heartbreak would be worse if they acted on their feelings for each other.
No.
She couldn't assume his feelings. Their natural impulses were taking over, that's all.

As they found the nearest hotel and checked in, the war in her head continued. What if she was no good in bed? Would he tell the “brotherhood”? Should she let him know this would be her first time?

Oh, shite. I've no idea what I'm doin'.

She bit her lip and hung her head as they entered the elevator.

“What's wrong? Are you having second thoughts?”

She barely heard him over her internal debate. “Uh, no. I'm just…nervous, I guess.”

He rubbed her back and said, “We don't have to do this if you don't want to.”

“It's not a matter of wantin'.”

His look of confusion made her realize he might call it off if she didn't do something encouraging. She had avoided men for a long time. A looooooong time. Why this guy was different she couldn't quite figure out. But for some damn reason, she wanted to know him, completely.

She grabbed the back of his head and yanked him down for a hard kiss.

When she let him up for air, he grinned. “I guess you're okay with this, then.”

She smiled back and nodded.

They found their room and he quickly used the key card. A stupid stray thought entered her mind as he took a step back to allow her to go first.
Isn't he going to carry me over the threshold?
She almost rolled her eyes at herself.
Wrong milestone, idjit.

She almost felt like she needed to be carried, as her legs seemed to liquefy.
Stupid legs! Work!

“Are you—”

“Yes, I'm sure,” she said before he could misinterpret her hesitation.

She marched into the room and eyed the bed. It was huge. Nerves were getting the better of her again. If things didn't go well…
Stop thinking that way, Chloe! This could be the most wonderful experience of your ridiculously long life.

She unzipped her jacket and let it fall to the floor, then strolled over and sat on the edge of the bed. Smiling, she patted the space beside her.

Ryan followed her lead.

She began to unbutton his shirt, but her fingers were trembling. She hoped he wouldn't notice.

He let her continue, leaned over, and kissed her as she fumbled. To his credit, he didn't try to hurry or help her.

A pleasurable sensation shot through her as he found her breast and massaged it through her sweater. He was gentle, yet there was no mistaking what he wanted.

Suddenly, she needed their clothes
off.
Immediately. She broke the kiss, quickly finished unbuttoning his shirt, and yanked it out of his jeans. As soon as she'd peeled it off him and tossed it who-knows-where, she whipped off her sweater and threw it in the same direction.

“Anxious, are you?” he teased.

She grabbed his belt buckle. In seconds the belt went the way of everything else, and she yanked his fly open.

“Whoa. I'm glad you're excited, but stop before you injure me and spoil our fun. Let me take over from here.”

“Oh.” She felt dumb, but she used the awkward moment to undo her own jeans and slip them off. Now they were in their underwear. For some reason, she wasn't ready to go completely nude. Not yet.

He seemed to sense that and simply caressed her face and kissed her. Their tongues met and swirled. She relaxed into his arms and let nature take over.

Before long, he lowered her to the bed and leaned over her, resuming their long, tender kiss. She lost track of time, then lost track of everything except his talented mouth. She'd never tasted a man before and loved the uniqueness of it. Or maybe she just loved
him.
She couldn't picture doing this with anyone else.

He rolled toward the middle of the bed and she found herself on top of him. He was letting her take the lead. Now…what to do?

She leaned back and gazed into his eyes. She saw some kind of soft, white glow.
Could it be?
Was that enough to match her diamond?

When she thought about the exact match of Shannon's sapphire to Finn's eyes and Rory's gem to Amber's eyes, she sighed.
Probably not.
Still, she wanted to cling to the possibility.

She needed to see and feel all of him. Her pulse doubled with the thrill of anticipation.

She sat up, straddling him, and unhooked her bra. She wasn't big in that area, but at least she was proportionate. She'd seen some bizarre figures—probably the result of surgery. When she flung the garment away, he grinned appreciatively.

“Like what you see?”

“Very much.” He reached for her, but she grabbed his hands.

“Your turn.” Climbing off him, she smiled wickedly.

He didn't hesitate. As soon as he whipped off his briefs, she almost gasped. Despite the bulge, Chloe hadn't expected…
that.
His arousal was impressive to say the least, not that she had a lot to compare it to.

She rolled onto her back and shimmied out of her thong.

He groaned.

Oh no!
“Is something wrong?”

“Not a thing, sweetheart. I'm just blown away by the view.”

Lying on her side, she indulged one of her curiosities. She ran her fingers through his springy chest hair, then circled his nipple. He smiled and reached for her breast.

His touch created such bliss inside her, she could have let him rub her breasts all night. Then he cupped one and ran the roughened pad of his thumb back and forth over it. She arched and moaned.

Good Lord, so this is what all the fuss is about.
And they had barely begun!

* * *

Ryan wanted to make this experience special. Not just because he needed the itch scratched—badly—but because he sensed a vulnerability in her he'd never seen before. She was trusting him with more than her body.

He kissed her again and his tongue slid over her teeth. He wondered if she'd allow him to indulge in a little oral sex, something he was very good at. If she was moaning from the attention to her breasts, he couldn't imagine her response if he went down on her.

Finally—finally—she ran her fingers over his cock. Her touch was so tentative, he figured she'd need some encouragement. “That's it, sweetheart. Wrap your hand around it.”

She did and even gave him a squeeze. When he moaned, she dropped him as if she'd caused him bodily harm.

“I'm sorry! Did I hurt you?” she asked.

“Far from it. You make me feel good when you touch me. Very good.”

“Oh.” She reached for him again and this time, she cupped his balls. “Does this feel good?”

“So good.”

She became a little bolder and rubbed figure eights around them. He sighed appreciatively. When she grasped his shaft again, he murmured more encouragement. “That's it, princess. Now move your hand up and down.”

While she was occupied and driving him crazy, he ran his hand down her abdomen and teased her inner thighs. She shivered, but her skin was blazing hot. She parted her thighs without him asking. He wanted to laugh at the guys who'd thought she was frigid.

He tested her wetness and was pleased to see she was ready for him…but he had more to give her. Much more.

He zeroed in on her sensitive bundle and she cried out, arching off the mattress. She dropped his erection. Good thing or she might have pulled it off.

“Do you want me to stop?”

She swallowed. “Hell no. Don't stop.”

He chuckled and rubbed her clit as she moaned.

“That's it, luv. Let me take over. Just feel.”

As he sped up his massage, she gathered the sheets in a death grip and moaned louder and louder. At last her legs vibrated wildly and she let out a series of screams that would have had the whole fire department rushing to her room if they'd tried this at the station. Their band of brothers might tease the heck out of her, but when one of their own was threatened, they'd stop at nothing to save him—or her.