Fighting for Irish (Fighting for Love, #3)

She cried his name as her orgasm took her, and his body followed her into the ether, where desire consumed them in wave after wave, and he emptied himself into her for the second time in as many hours.

An eternity of seconds passed before he had the energy to move, but he finally kissed her shoulder and raised himself up. Her breaths were deep and even, her eyes closed peacefully. With little effort, he cradled her in his arms and carried her to the four-poster California king bed. After cleaning her gently with a warm cloth, he pulled the silky sheet over her and slid in beside her.

Instinctively, she curled around him, tucking her head into the place between his shoulder and chest that cradled her perfectly. Then, holding her close, he placed a last kiss on her forehead and drifted off to sleep, hoping he’d get to do it all over again in his dreams.





Chapter Twenty


Wearing her outfit from yesterday—minus the undies that were somewhere in pieces in Xander’s car—Kat followed the heavenly scent of salty bacon and sugary syrup through the main lobby. As exhausted as she was from the night of lovemaking Irish had treated her to, her stomach woke her up bright and early, demanding its own satiation.

She’d opened her eyes to the beautiful colors of his tattooed arms wrapped firmly around her and exhaled in contentment. Never had she felt so safe, so loved than in the arms of a fighter. She’d almost woken him to ask if he’d like to join her, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Life had etched itself on his face, often causing him to appear older than his thirty-odd years. But sleep seemed to bring him peace and his features softened. For as rugged as he was, Irish was equally beautiful.

Kat choked back a laugh. She was pretty sure he’d put her in a headlock for even thinking it, so she’d keep that little nugget of opinion to herself. No reason to emasculate the man.

At last, she found breakfast heaven. A buffet line overflowed with scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, pancakes, fruit, and at least a dozen other items that made her mouth water and stomach growl. She placed her hands over her middle to muffle the sound and walked to the start of the line. She’d eat quickly and then load a plate to take up to her Sleeping Beauty.

Twenty minutes later, she sat back in her chair with an inward groan. Her eyes had been bigger than her stomach, but it somehow found room for the eggs, bacon, sausage, hash browns, and the biggest damn waffle she’d ever seen. Which she’d proudly made herself in the gigantic waffle-iron-flipper-thing.

Glancing down her body, Kat smoothed her hands over her full belly. “Damn, I’ve got a food baby in there.” She let out a soft gasp. Baby…I could be pregnant. “With Irish’s baby,” she whispered as the thought lifted the corners of her mouth. She’d never wanted children before. Never wanted to bring them into the life she led. Children deserved a stable home with parents who loved them. She knew she would—unconditionally—and do whatever it took to keep them safe, but she never imagined being with anyone who would feel the same.

But Irish would. He’d protect and love his children with the ferocity of a lion.

Kat stood, anxious to get back to their room and the man she wanted to be with, always. She’d bring him up a tray of food and let him eat before attacking his sexy, naked body. Maybe she’d even hide the condoms. The more she thought about it, the more she warmed to the idea of having his baby.

With a sly grin, she made her way to the juice counter and poured a large glass of cranberry juice for him. She used to cringe at the smell, knowing how tart it tasted, but now it made her think of how it tasted on him and caused her to salivate. Yummy Cran-Irish.

“Here,” a man said, “let me help you with that so you don’t spill.”

“Oh, no, that’s okay. I’ve got—” Shit!

The helpful gentleman who took the glass from her was a smiling Vinnie. He sipped the juice and made a face. “I’m more of an apple juice fan myself.”

Are you waiting for a fucking invitation, Katherine? Get the hell out of here! Go, girl, GO!

Heeding her subconscious, Kat spun on her booted heel to make a run for it, but Sully blocked her path. His smile was all teeth and no warmth as he held out the side of his suit coat just enough for her to see the holstered gun under his arm. Her mouth dried up and the room felt like it was closing in on her.

“Come on, sweetheart, let’s go for a little walk,” Sully said with a jerk of his chin toward the elevators.

“And don’t get any ideas that’ll get your boyfriend up there killed.” Vinnie grabbed her upper arm, his meaty fingers bruising her for sure as he steered her through the hotel. “Any commotion from you is the signal to cut our losses with him and split with you.”

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