Page 97 of Experiments in Offline Dating

Tadhg’s eyes flashed, then his eyebrows bunched up, and he sucked in a deep, long breath. Shit, it was sexy.

What was I thinking? Protocol was in place for a reason—breaking it was out of character, dammit!

“No. You’d better not be breaking the rules, Davis, or there will be consequences.”

Goose bumps. Everywhere.

Chapter 26 A Study in Smut as a Gateway Drug

That drive. The drive around the Dingle Peninsula was even more breathtaking than driving up Highway 1 in California. The Slea Head Drive hugged the mountain, with dramatic cliffs crashing to the sea below, or long stretches of white beach caressing the foam-crested turquoise water.

The trouble was that, vying for my attention, trying to snag my eyes from the stunning beauty outside the windows, was a world of inside delights that I had been oblivious to from the backseat. Frankly, I was better off back there. If this was day one of our new platonic friendship, then I was doing a really bad job of it.

Long stretches of solid thighs shifted beneath denim, sun kissed the skin of his throat where his top buttons were undone, a breeze from the cracked window gusted in and toyed with his thick hair, the strands flashing different shades of mahogany and copper in rays of light. This Jeep, of course, was a manual, and there was just something about his big hand confidently shifting those gears that made it hard to swallow. And because he was so focused on the deadly road, that meant I could let my eyes creep all over him in my peripheral vision, like the pervert I was, until I got a headache. It was ridiculous.

Pull yourself together, woman!

Protocol for Inconvenient Lusty Thoughts:

Objective: Calm the fuck down, Maya.

1. Application of a cold-water stimulus—commonly referred to as a “cold shower”—the quickest and most successful method to douse the fire in your pants.

2. Eat something crunchy—consuming crunchy foods has been seen to improve mood, alertness, and relieve stress. Personal experiments have shown conclusively that it is difficult to imagine fellatio whilst chewing popcorn.

3. Start a conversation—when physical proximity to said sexy individual is unavoidable, distract yourself with the searing awkwardness of conversation.

I got to number three on this list and grabbed for it. Unfortunately, my protocol was grievously lacking in vital details about which conversation topics were most conducive to vaginal desiccation. Calamitously, my mind flew, as it so often did, to books—the sexiest of all topics.

“So, how far have you gotten in The Name of the Wind? Has Kvothe made it to the university yet?”

“He has.” Tadhg gave me a quick sideways glance but clearly wasn’t able to stop himself. “He just had the interview. And it was so good.”

Welp. Great. My protocol had failed me. Because what on this whole green earth was sexier than a man talking books? Oh! That’s right! A man talking books in a deep Irish accent.

“That’s such a good part! Things are really about to kick off.”

“It’s an interesting magic system, don’t you think? Limited. Grounded. It feels almost scientific.”

I swooned! This was downright filthy.

“It’s true. If the magic doesn’t feel real, it makes the whole story less believable.”

“What are you reading? Is yours a fantasy too?”

I had to focus to stop myself from heavy breathing. “Yeah, it’s a fantasy. The magic is based on Norse mythology. But, you know, with big, burly Vikings, because it’s a romantasy.”

Tadhg cocked an eyebrow. “What’s romantasy?”

Shit! I looked away hurriedly so that my maculae could not take in any more of his blindingly erotic visage while he said the word “romantasy.”

“Well, I’m glad that you asked, Tadhg.” No, I’m not! My ovaries just combusted! “It’s kind of a new word for a genre that’s become really popular lately. But it’s simple, really. It’s just fantasy-based romance novels.”

“Don’t most fantasies have romance in them?”

Just answer the question, Maya. Do not turn into a horny weirdo. “They do.” It was a tight-lipped answer. At least my lips could be tight, if nothing else was. I’ve got to change the subject—how about . . .

“What’s the difference, then?”