Bottom Line (Callaghan Brothers #8)

And that was just the foyer.

Beyond the entrance lay a spacious living area. Dark, polished hardwood floors were artfully decorated with Mediterranean-inspired throw rugs. Exotic tapestries and fabrics hung from the cream and beige walls. On the right, a few steps led down to a sunken area where a cream-colored L-shaped leather sofa formed a cozy “U” shape with matching upholstered chairs. A glass and marble table sat in the middle. No matter where you chose to sit, you would be able to appreciate the huge floor-to-ceiling fireplace that dominated the far right wall, flanked on either side by handcrafted shelving and glass cabinets showcasing museum-quality pieces.

At the far end, off to the left, was a gleaming wood and brass bar that rivaled those of some of the smaller pubs in town.

Aidan carelessly tossed his jacket on one of the chairs, then took Mary’s and did the same. Perhaps he felt at home here, but she was afraid to touch anything. She was fairly certain some of the pieces were worth more than everything in her entire house put together.

“You live here?” she asked in awe as her eyes tried to take in everything at once.

“Yes.” Aidan pulled her into his arms and lowered his head, brushing his lips against hers. She parted for him with the softest of sighs, and he deepened the kiss, coaxing her tongue to dance with his. It centered her, and was exactly what she’d needed.

“Better?” he asked.

“Much. Though if the rest of your place is like this, you may have to do that a lot.”

“I can do that,” he said, his voice noticeably huskier than it had been only moments ago.

“It’s so beautiful, Aidan.”

He looked around and shrugged, far less impressed than she was. “It’s nice, but I like your place better.”

“You do?” she asked doubtfully. He nodded.

“Why?”

“Because, your house is a home. It’s real, filled with you. Nothing here is me. An interior decorator did all this. I had nothing to do with it.”

She looked around again and realized he was right. His place was like something out of a House Beautiful magazine, but there was nothing personal about it. Nothing she saw gave her the slightest impression that Aidan lived here, as opposed to some other (incredibly wealthy) man.

“Come on,” he said, tugging at her hand. “I’ll give you a full tour later, but right now there is one thing I absolutely have to do before we head to the Pub.”

They started up the spiral staircase to the next floor, Mary following a step behind him. She was about to ask Aidan what it was that he had to do, but the answer became clear soon enough.

Aidan pulled her into what had to be his bedroom. Unlike the first floor, this room was very much his. It reeked of decadence and pleasure. Arched floor-to-ceiling windows with dark burgundy draperies. An S-shaped chair in front of the fireplace. Sleek, glossy black furniture covered with an assortment of fat, glass-encased candles. A huge, four poster bed wrapped in black silk and at least a dozen pillows.

“Take off your shoes,” he commanded, kicking his off and then getting on his knees before her to slip off her casual boots and socks.

“Now the rest,” he whispered. Long, deft fingers unfastened the button of her jeans and tugged at the zipper. Warm, soft lips pressed against her abdomen, commanding her attention. Mary’s fingers tangled in his golden hair as he worked the denim over her hips.

“I thought you had something to do,” she teased breathlessly.

“I’m doing it.”

His hands continued to work her jeans down until she stepped out of them, then he pulled one leg over his shoulder. A soft gasp escaped from her lips as his kisses targeted one very specific area. Mary was forced to lean back against the wall when her knees instantly went weak.

“Christ, Mary,” he mumbled, the vibrations adding extra sensations. “You’re so sweet, and I can taste myself in you...”

She groaned at his words, so erotic, so naughty. Her fingers flexed, her nails scraped against his scalp.

“Do you still taste like me?” She heard herself speak, but hardly recognized the deep, sultry voice as her own.

“Mmm,” he hummed, sending delightful little shivers directly into her core. “Let’s find out, shall we?”

Mary was suddenly weightless, then felt the brush of cool silks and satins on her naked bottom half. Before her heart could thunder out more than a few beats in anticipation, Aidan was naked, too, sliding onto the bed and lifting her on top of him until she straddled him.

Two large, strong hands grabbed her hips and locked her in place while his tongue once again did wicked, wicked things to her. Directly before her, Aidan’s erection, thick and heavy, bobbed for similar attention.

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