Page 41 of Irish Fury
Mags: Okay. Thank you.
Eze: It seems you had quite a lot to say to Nasir.
Mags smiled, imagining Eze’s dry tone and frown as he typed.
Mags: I did. Because you’re my friend, and I love you. You can thank me later.
Eze: To be determined.
She set her phone aside to find Jonathan watching her face intently. “That was Eze. Apparently, everyone snuck out to give us privacy.”
His face relaxed at that, and he grinned. Before she surmised his intent, he peeled the blanket from her lap and scooped her up, repositioning her on his lap. Mags was so shocked that her mouth opened, but not so much as a peep emerged.
“Good. Now we can finish our conversation while you remember how to be comfortable with me again.”
“And sitting in your lap will make me comfortable?”
“What better way to bridge the chasm between us than forced proximity. Plus, I have to prove to Mom, Raven, and Rowan that I am capable of wooing you without their help.”
Her spine straightened, and her palms flattened against his chest, pushing her further away. “What do you mean your mom and aunts…their help,” she spluttered. “What?”
Jonathan smiled one of his easy smiles, the one she hadn’t seen in forever, clearly enjoying her shock. “As much as I hate to admit this to you, and I will deny it fully if you so much as breath it to our friends, especially Daniel, I was forced into a Byrne sister intervention.”
“Oh my God, no way,” Mags laughed.
“Apparently, they felt I needed help admitting my feelings for you and getting you to forgive me. I cannot stress enough how absolutely painful it was.”
“And have you admitted to having feelings?” Why did she ask that? “Forget I asked,” she shook her head in chagrin.Their conversation had gone from zero to one hundred without obeying any of the traffic signs like speed limit, stop, yield, and especially caution.
One of Jonathan’s hands rubbed circles over her back. It felt so good, she couldn’t bring herself to stop him.
“I know what I feel, and I’m trying and clearly not succeeding in telling you. Give me a chance, Mags,” he pleaded, bending close enough that his breath fanned over her lips. “Give us a chance.”
She could have easily put distance between them, but she wanted to give them a chance. She wanted his commitment. She wanted him to touch her and taste her.
She wanted him.
Slowly, she pivoted on her hips until both her knees straddled his thighs. His strong hands rested at her waist. “Mags,” he breathed, not moving a muscle, probably afraid she’d change her mind.
“You know me, Jon, probably better than my parents and friends. Regardless of how you’ve hurt me in the past, if you truly mean what you’ve said today?—”
“I do,” he cut in.
“Then, I’m willing to see where this goes. But slowly,” she amended.
“Anything, Christ, Mags, anything,” he implored.
And maybe because she’d survived dead animals, falling down stairs, and a hit and run, living her life to the fullest had become paramount. Having the love of her life looking at her with such abject devotion made her want to throw caution to the wind and be reckless with her feelings.
“I think we should seal this pact with a kiss.”
“Thank, Christ,” he all but shouted, his hands sliding from her waist to her back and neck, bringing their lips together,slowly and soft at first. The first moan that left her throat triggered Jonathan to plunder.
Tongues dueled, teeth scraped, and hands explored. Mags was helpless to still her hips, thrusting, rubbing, and finally grinding against the part of his anatomy that had remained a complete mystery even in her dreams.
Under his pants, he was hard, thick, and long, basically the trifecta of every woman's fantasy. Somewhere in the hazy, lust fields of her mind, she knew she needed to put the brakes on.
Slow! Slow! Slow!
