I moaned into his mouth, and he growled a low response. His tongue mastered mine, and he eclipsed any thoughts I may have had about propriety or people watching. There was only him, his mouth, his body, the heat he stoked inside me. Opening my mouth wider, I gave him free rein over me. He gripped my hair, tilting my head back and kissing to my neck. My pussy was hot and wet, and I closed my eyes, imagining his wicked mouth between my thighs.
“God,” I said on a heavy breath.
A thump sounded and I jumped. The waitress had plopped down a basket of cheese sticks, giving me the stink eye the entire time.
Eamon left a lingering kiss on my neck before straightening again and releasing me. He cut his gaze to the waitress and waved her away with an angry flick of his wrist.
I waited for him to apologize for being so … forward. But he only smiled and pulled me into his side again. He snagged a cheese stick and blew on it before putting it to my lips.
“Open, love.” One side of his mouth quirked up in a devilish smirk.
“I can feed myself, you know.” I couldn’t stop the blush that ruled my cheeks.
“I know. Humor me?”
I opened my mouth hesitantly and he slid the tip in. I took a bite and the warm cheese and crispy crust melted on my tongue. He grinned and popped the rest of the cheese stick into his mouth.
He picked up another one, blew on it, and fed it to me in the same manner before finishing it off.
Being handfed by a handsome man was undeniably erotic. Something about the way he made sure it was cool enough for me to eat and then slid it between my lips. Somehow lewd but arousing all the same.
We polished off the cheese sticks as a new song began to play through the bar’s sound system, a low bass beat thumping in my chest. Or was that my heart? Every time he looked at me, squeezed my shoulder, called me “love,” my desire for him grew.
He allowed me to eat my burger on my own, thank goodness. Though he was attentive, making sure everything was to my liking as if he were the pub maître d’. We discussed his major and mine, how different they were, but both interesting. The waitress continued to eyeball me, but he still ignored her.
By the time we were finished, he was crowding me again, leaning in for another kiss. I wanted to give it to him, to let him have what he wanted. My eyes started to close as he ghosted his lips across mine and slid a hand up my thigh. His palm was hot, the warmth sinking through my jeans and heating my skin. I wanted his hands all over me. I melted into him as he kissed me. Though we’d just eaten, it was as if he’d become hungrier, holding me tight and growling like he wanted to devour me.
The pub door opened and I glanced to see a couple of acquaintances strolling in. The two girls were mutual friends with Claudia. Fuck.
I stiffened and pushed him away. “I have to go.”
He furrowed his brow. “What, why?”
Chelsea spotted me and waved. She and Lydia made their way over to us.
“Laurel, didn’t know you did the pub thing.” Lydia sneered. We’d never been close, and my heart sank with the realization that she’d likely text Claudia the first chance she got. I was screwed.
“I’m just… I was just hungry. So, Eamon offered—and so I—I mean we figured we’d get some dinner.” For a languages major, I utterly failed at getting any coherent thought together.
Chelsea smiled warmly at me. “It’s good to see you out and about instead of in the library. And who’s your friend?”
“Eamon Wilson.” He smiled.
Chelsea’s smile faltered the slightest bit, no doubt recognizing his name and accent from Claudia’s endless talk about him.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Eamon. I’m Chelsea and this is Lydia. Would you mind if we joined you?”
I gripped his thigh. Though I liked Chelsea, I most certainly did not want to sit through the interrogation Lydia was likely cooking up.
“Sorry, ladies. We’ve already eaten and are ready to go our separate ways. Laurel was kind enough to help me with some translation work, so I bought her dinner in exchange.” Eamon was trying to cover for me, but it didn’t matter. Claudia would still blow her top once she heard I was with him at a pub.
He slid out of the booth and offered me his hand to help me up. I took it and got to my feet.
“I’m going to settle up.” He strode to the bar.
“He’s that Eamon, isn’t he?” Chelsea whispered.
I nodded. “Could you two do me a favor and not tell Claudia?”
“I won’t say a word.” Chelsea squeezed my forearm.
Lydia gave me a too-sweet smile. “Me neither.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it.” I was a goner. Lydia was already digging in her purse for her phone. My hands went cold and I dreaded Claudia’s tears and anger.