Chapter Two
They did tequila shots.
Insane. He never did shots. Growing up in a pub, Baz knew the end result of shots. As a kid, he’d watched Lacky deal with the end result; as a teenager, Lacky’d helped him deal with the end result, and he’d handled it himself as an adult when Lacky was having chemo.
The Outback pub his uncle owned wasn’t all that rowdy, but when payday hit for the workers from the nearby mines, the place got a little…active.
But there was something about Hayley Miller that made him…what? Cut loose? No, that wasn’t it. Every time she lifted the small glass filled with Jose Cuervo, she smiled at him over its rim. When she did that, a devilish light gleamed in her eyes, igniting a hungry fire deep inside him.
Bloody hell, he could get addicted to that light. Could spend a lot of hours discovering just how many different ways he could make it dance there.
Four glasses in, and he was beginning to contemplate exploring some of those options. Preferably without clothes.
His body liked that idea.
He blinked, picking up the fifth glass handed to him by the young bloke behind the bar—Wade? Slade? Something like that. Hell, he should have bailed on this one. He was tipsy. Not drunk; it took a bucket load more alcohol to inebriate him, but he was definitely feeling mellow. Lacky would give him shit. That wasn’t the Kerrigan way.
“Last one,” he raised his glass to Hayley, “and then you’re showing me your dance moves.”
That horny light danced in her blue eyes again, and she laughed. “Where’s your staying power, Bartholomew?”
A jolt of liquid heat sank into Baz’s groin. When had his full name ever sounded so bloody sexy? “Depends. If we’re talking booze, I think I lost it a glass ago. If we’re talking something else…”
Hayley licked her lips. “And if we are?”
Baz downed his tequila, slammed his glass on the bar, and leaned towards her.
She stared into his eyes, licked her lips again, and then glanced at his.
“I can go all bloody night,” he answered.
“To going all night.” She raised her glass to her lips, threw back her head and swallowed her tequila in one mouthful.
Before he could stop himself, he brushed his lips over the creamy-smooth column of her throat.
The raw desire in her moan sheared through him. His cock throbbed, grew thicker in his jeans. Pulling away, he sucked in a shaky breath and watched Hayley touch her fingertips to the spot his lips had been.
Fuck a duck, she got to him. Hooking up with a hot chick was one thing, but Hayley stoked something deep inside him he’d never experienced before.
Maybe—as he’d discovered during the last couple of hours—it was the fact they had similar tastes in movies and music, enjoyed thriller suspense books, and were both dog people. Maybe it was something more. Something he couldn’t put his finger on.
He drew another breath as she lowered her gaze to his. “Dance with me?”
She laughed at his question, her expression surprised—and happy. “Are you serious?”
“Couldn’t be more fair dinkum.”
“Say that again.” Playful delight danced in her eyes. “Talk more Australian to me.”
He laughed this time. “You want whoop whoop ‘Stral, bogan ‘Strain, or posh big-smoke lingo?”
She grinned. “Yes.”
His cock throbbed again. He liked her grin. A lot. As much as the mischief in her eyes. “Alright, but remember, you asked for it.” Rubbing his palms on his thighs, he shifted on the stool and cleared his throat. “Crikey, love, you’re a beaut lookin’ sheila. Reckon you’d go off like a frog in a sock in the sack as well.”
Really, Baz? That’s what you went with?
Hayley burst out laughing. “I love it. What did you just say?”
He shook his head with a smile. “You don’t want to know.”
That devilish light flared in her eyes. “Do you really talk like that?”
“No. All you’ll get from me is the occasional crikey and fair dinkum. Most Aussies who grow up in the regional areas and the Outback tend to use more slang than those in the cities. I grew up in a very small Outback town, so even though I spent a bit of my life in the big smoke—Sydney—at uni, I still talk like a boy from the sticks.”
“Well, I like it. It’s sexy.”
He chuckled. “Not many Aussie girls would agree with you. Now, about that dance?” If he didn’t do something innocuous soon, he’d ask her back to the backpackers’ hostel he, Nev and Pete were staying at so he could strip her naked and explore every inch of her gorgeous, curvy, sexy—
“Come back to my apartment instead.”
He sucked in a sharp breath, staring at her.
She shrugged. “We both know where this is going, so why not just cut out the middle part and get straight to the—”
He kissed her. Buried his hands in the cool blonde curtain of her hair and kissed her.
She kissed him back, her lips parting, her tongue seeking out his.
Fuck, she tasted like tequila and toothpaste. Liquid heat flooded his cock. He growled into her mouth, hungry, impatient, eager and ready.
“Hey!”
He jerked away at Ewan’s angry shout.
Ah fuck, what was he thinking?
That Hayley Miller is the hottest, sexiest woman you’ve ever met.
Eyes glinting with devilish mirth, she threaded her fingers through his and tugged him to his feet. “Stop being a prude, Ewan,” she said with a laugh at her cousin-in-law, currently storming towards them, glare locked on Baz. “I’m twenty-three, independent, and allowed to kiss whoever I want.”
And without another word, she walked for the door, pulling Baz along with her.
He threw Ewan a sheepish grin. “If it helps, I’m actually a really nice—”
They were through the door and out on the footpath, the cool Baltimore night wrapping around them before he could say bloke.
“Guy?” Hayley slid her arms around his waist, smiling up at him. “Is that what you were going to say?”
He cupped her face in his hands and lowered his head. “Something like that.” He brushed her lips with his.
She hmmm’d. “I like that.”
“Bloody well hope so. Reckon I’m going to do a lot more of it before the sun comes up.”
Laughing softly, she stepped backward, once more snagging his hand in hers. “Are you okay to walk? My apartment’s not far.”
A warm wave of happiness rolled through him and he fell in beside her. “No worries at all. Did you need to let anyone inside know you’re leaving?”
Her hair tumbled around her shoulders as she shook her head. “I’d just finished dinner in there and was trying to leave when you blocked my way at the door.”
“And as it turns out, I’m not sorry at all for doing so.”
“Me either.”
“Is the food good in there?”
She nodded. “Sunday’s Side—the restaurant side of the pub—is famous with locals for its delicious food. And I’m not just saying that because Ewan’s family, the Collinses, owns Pat’s Pub.”
“Owns? Wow. Impressed. I know what the life is like. I grew up in the pub Lacky owns. Have worked in it since I was knee-high to a grasshopper. Finished my BA in Business Management last month, so I can take over when…”
He trailed off. Talking about Lacky’s chances of survival put him in a bleak mood. There was no place for bleakness in his life tonight.
He cleared his throat and gave Hayley a smile. “Tell me about you. Hit me with the exciting stuff, the embarrassing stuff. Tell me everything.”
She rolled her eyes. “Nothing really exciting to tell, I’m afraid. I’m an intern at the Baltimore Sun, only child, both parents are deceased and I support the Orioles.”
“The who?”
She laughed. “Baseball team.”
“Ahh, gotcha. Any tattoos I need to be warned about?”
Her lips twitched. He wanted to kiss them again. “Well, there is the big portrait of Jabba the Hutt on my right inner thigh, but that won’t be a problem, will it?”
He shook his head and pulled a melodramatic deadpan expression. “Totally not a mood killer.”
She grinned. “Totally not.”
He grinned back. Fuck a duck, he liked her. A lot. “Anything else?”
She caught her bottom lip, her expression growing serious before she dropped her gaze to her feet. “I was in a relationship for over a year with an older guy. It ended badly over six weeks ago. He told me I was fat and didn’t cater to his needs enough.”
A hot lump filled Baz’s throat. “What me to go beat the crap out of him?”
Her laugh was both shaky and relieved. “No, that’s okay. Thank you.”
He nudged her shoulder with his. “Want me to give you mind-blowing orgasms instead?”
“Oh, hell yeah.”
“Then mind-blowing orgasms it is. I will make it my mission to orgasm the memory of your ex out of your system.”
She blinked.
He grimaced. “That made perfect bloody sense and sounded much better in my head.”
She chuckled. “Do you think you can orgasm him out of my system in just one night?”
He stopped walking and tugged her still. Smoothing his hands over the delicious curves of her hips, he drew her close to his body. “I’m going to give it the best bloody shot I can.”
She looked up at him. Fair dinkum, he could drown in the blue of her eyes…
“And if I can’t do it in one night,” he lowered his head to hers, “then I’ve got another four. Your cousin doesn’t get back from Washington for another five days, right?”
Baz’s gut clenched. What the bloody hell was he doing? Committing himself to four nights with her? One night was his norm. He was a serial one-night-stander. Easier that way. No fear of being abandoned when you only allowed one night of your life to someone.
Hayley’s lips curled into a shy smile. “Right,” she murmured.
He swallowed, something deep in his chest squeezing tight. “If I kiss you now, here on the street, will we be arrested for public indecency?”
She laughed. “Probably.”
He grinned. Screw his one-night-stand rule. She was too perfect to stop at just one. “Then hurry the fuck up and get us to your apartment, woman.”
She’d never been so glad she lived so close to Pat’s Pub.
Five minutes more of walking silently, of glancing at each other and grinning like two kids getting up to mischief, and they arrived at her apartment building.
The trip up to her apartment on the fourth floor took forever. Or at least it felt that way to Hayley, thanks to Mr. Peabody—the building’s resident insomniac—joining them in the elevator. They listened to him complain about not being able to sleep until the elevator stopped on her floor.
“Milo made on hot milk,” Baz said to Mr. Peabody as Hayley pulled him through the open door. “That’ll help you sleep, mate.”
Mr. Peabody frowned. “What made on hot milk?”
The doors closed before Baz could answer. Hayley cocked an eyebrow at him over her shoulder. “You don’t engage with Mr. Peabody at 12:47 a.m. in an elevator, Baz. Not if you want to get away to have crazy sex with me.”
He chuckled. The fact he was letting her tug him along without any macho I’m-in-charge alpha crap made the delicious tension in her core flutter.
She’d avoided the whole rebound-sex thing after Dwayne dumped her, telling herself she didn’t need it, but whoa baby, if Baz Kerrigan was her rebound, she was diving in feet first.
“I want nothing more than to have crazy sex with you, gorgeous.”
She smiled. “You don’t have to flatter me, Baz. Tonight, I’m a sure thing.”
He tightened his fingers on hers, bringing her to a halt. “Hey.”
She frowned. Her pulse thumped hard in her neck. “What?”
Sliding his hands over her hips, he drew her body to his. “I’m not bullshitting just to get laid. You are gorgeous. The very second I saw you back in the pub, I thought so. And now, after talking to you, getting to know you…you’re more gorgeous.”
Oh lord, was it possible to fall in love so quickly? Or have an orgasm just from spoken words?
Was it?
She stared up at him, throat tight. “I want to kiss you so badly right now.”
His lips curled, even as a worried frown dipped his eyebrows. “What’s stopping you?”
“My apartment is that door, directly behind me, and I fear if I start kissing you here, we won’t make it inside before—”
He scooped her up in his arms and strode the few remaining feet to her door.
Twenty-six second later, they were inside.
He kicked the door shut, his gaze locked on her. “Against the wall, on the sofa, on the dining table, kitchen counter, or in your bed?”
Her sex constricted. “Oh, I like the counter idea.”
“Done.” He crossed her small living room space to her just-as-small kitchen, and deposited her ass on its smooth, granite surface.
She wrapped her thighs around his hips, locking her ankles at the small of his back as their mouths clashed in a hungry kiss. The hard ridge of his erection pressed to her pussy and she wished to hell she’d not worn panties to the pub. But then, how was she to know she was going to meet an Australian sex god when she’d gotten dressed that morning?
She moaned, frustrated at the barrier between them and her lack of foresight.
With a low chuckle, Baz pulled away from the kiss, nipping at her bottom lip as he did so. “I’m going to strip you naked now, gorgeous.” He cupped her face in his hands. Hayley’s pulse thumped faster at the raw desire burning in his eyes. “I’m sorry if I tear any of your—”
She hooked her fingers under the edge of her buttoned neckline and tore her dress open.
Baz’s stare dropped to her breasts, encased in her favorite lacy red bra. He growled, the sound low and ripe with carnal appreciation. “Fuck a duck, they’re perfection.”
Delighted heat threaded through her. A wicked throb bloomed between her thighs. She tightened her legs around his hips.
He looked into her eyes again. “You’re perfection.”
A ragged sigh fell from her.
He smoothed his hands down her back and cupped her hips, drawing their bodies closer together. “And I’m going to make you come so many fucking times you’ll forget every other bloke you’ve ever been with.”
Liquid heat pooled in her pussy. “You really know how to sweet-talk a girl, Bartholomew Kerrigan.”
“Bloody oath,” he murmured, before claiming her mouth with his again.
Their tongues battled. Fierce and demanding. Baz slid his hands inside the parted front of her dress, over her rib cage, up to her lace-encased breasts. He cupped each one, dragging his thumbs over her distended nipple. She moaned into his mouth, grinding her sex to his.
He dragged his lips down her chin, her throat, to her collarbone. Nibbled on her skin there as he slipped one hand beneath the lace of her bra. She whimpered, the warmth of his palm on her bare skin igniting a fire inside her.
“B-Baz…” His name left her on a choppy breath. Her nipple strained for the feel of his mouth, his teeth… “Please…suck…”
He freed her breast from her bra with a quick shift of his hand and captured her nipple with his lips. Sucked. Hard.
“Oh yeah.” She arched, fisting her hand in his hair. Pleasure sheared through her, hot and tight and delicious.
He drew deeper on her nipple, palming her other breast through her bra as he did so.
“Hell, that feels…” She gasped as he bit her flesh and then flicked her nipple with his tongue. “Feels so good.”
Chuckling, he lifted his head and gazed into her eyes. “Bloody well hope so.”
She grinned. “Shut the fuck up and make me come.”
He laughed. “Orgasm number one, on its way.”
Before she could laugh, he flattened his hands to the inside of her thighs and shoved her legs wide.
Liquid electricity jolted into her very center. Her clit tingled, hot blood rushing into it.
“You like these undies?” He brushed the sensitive lips of her pussy through her panties with his fingers.
“Why?”
“’Cause I’m going to rip them off you now.”
He did, discarding them over his shoulder as she gasped.
Eyes gleaming with lust, he lowered his head between her thighs and stroked his tongue up the line of her seam to her clit.
“Holy fuck.” Her hips bucked forward, her body instantly taking charge of her actions.
He chuckled, the sound sending little vibrations through her pussy. “Say that again.”
She grinned down at him. “Make me.”
Stare holding hers, he slowly dragged his tongue over her pussy and then captured the tiny exposed tip of her clit with his teeth and nipped.
She threw back her head and clung to the edge of the table. “Holy. Fuck!”
He chuckled once again, and then propelled her to the edge of eruption with his tongue and teeth.
With every swipe over her sensitive flesh, with every thrust of his tongue into her folds, with every nibble of his teeth on her clit, she gasped and whimpered and bucked.
The building pressure in her core turned warm. She pressed her feet to his broad shoulders, glad she’d kicked off her ballet flats when he’d carried her to the table.
He lapped over and over at her pussy, exploring her thighs, her hips, her breasts with his hands as he did so. When he rolled his thumb over her clit and nipped at her inner thigh with his teeth, dark stars of raw pleasure burst behind her eyelids.
“Oh god, Baz…” She shook her head, toes curling. “I’m going to…I’m going to…”
She came, a wave of tight heat detonating inside her.
Baz continued to worship her sex with his tongue and mouth, his moans low and guttural. The hungry sounds sent fresh pleasure through Hayley, as did the fierce way he gripped her hips, holding her exactly where he wanted her as he fucked her with his tongue.
New pulses of tight heat claimed her core, and she came again.
Gasping, she stared blankly at the ceiling, her head spinning, her body thrumming. “Holy fuck,” she panted. “Holy fuck that’s—”
He lifted his head and captured her right nipple with his mouth, penetrating her wet sex with two fingers.
“Oh god,” she burst out as he stroked her G-spot. “Oh god!”
A third orgasm crashed through her, great shudders of exquisite tension that turned her bones to liquid and her breath to hitching whimpers.
“N-no…no more…” she protested on a laugh, shaking her head and reaching for his wrist. “I can’t…I can’t…just give me…”
He chuckled against her breast and slowly withdrew his fingers from inside her. Kissing his way up the side of her throat to her ear, he nipped at her lobe. “Wus.”
She laughed, letting her head loll back and her feet slide from his shoulders. “Clearly I need to up my cardio.”
He nibbled on the side of her neck. “I can help with that. The horny kangaroo is the perfect sex position for a cardio workout.”
She blinked, straightening away from him with a gentle palm to his chest. “Are you kidding? There’s really a position in Australia called the horny kangaroo?”
His lips twitched.
She rolled her eyes. “Bastard.”
“Horny bastard is more like it.” He smoothed his hands from her hips, down to her inner thighs. “Now, if my maths is correct, that was three orgasms, right?”
“Your math is right.”
He shook his head. “Not enough. It’s time to get serious.”
She raised her eyebrows, even as a greedy want throbbed in her pussy. “What do you call what you just did?”
“Foreplay.”
She laughed again.
And then caught her breath, pulse pounding when he hooked his fingers under his shirt and pulled it up over his head.
Her mouth went dry. Her nipples hardened. She stared at his bare chest, his broad shoulders. Her gaze lingered on the tattoo over his heart of the star constellation she recognized from the Australian flag, before she lowered her attention to the most sublime six-pack she’d ever seen. She licked her lips, following the fine dark hair leading from his navel down into the low waistband of his faded jeans. Oh god, he had those sexy little muscles near his hips she had no name for that were like a visual aphrodisiac. Damn, she wanted to touch them, kiss them…bite them.
Swallowing, she returned her stare to his face. “Are you real?”
He chuckled. “I snore. And never put the seat down on the loo.”
She shook her head. “I don’t care.”
A faint pink filled his cheeks and he ducked his head, scratching loosely at his divine abs. Her stomach clenched again. Her sex squeezed a cock not yet there. Could he get any sexier?
Looking up at her from behind his shaggy hair, he grinned. “Ready for the next part?”
And before she could answer, he toed off his boots, unzipped his jeans and shucked them down his legs.
Hayley’s heart forgot how to beat.
“Oh. My. God,” she breathed.