With the click of the lock, we stepped inside the compact one-bedroom apartment. Angie tossed her keys to a table in the entryway and turned. A half-smile, half-leer stretched across her features in the murky light as she began to back away, her hands outstretched in front of her beckoning to me. How could I not follow?
"Nice place you have." My words seemed utterly inappropriate and juvenile. It could have been a hovel and I'd have said the same.
"It sucks, but the bedroom's nice. Come see." My temptress spun and led the way, confident I'd follow. Of course, I did.
A king-sized bed dominated the room, its comforter equally dominated by a fat, ginger tabby that lay like a basketball in it center. The cat cracked open a lazy eye and caught me in its sites. It stood, arched its back and with a disapproving hiss, leaped off the bed and darted past me. Good. I hated cats and they hated me.
"Weasley! Sorry about that. He's usually very mellow. But I guess he realized a bigger," she closed the gap between us, "more virile," and snaked a hand up my arm, "male would be laying claim to my bed."
I smiled, and she lifted a naughty brow in response.
"I have a sixth sense about certain people." She traced her finger down my chest. "You, Rory-from-Ireland, are an old soul. I can tell."
I cocked my head to the side. If I'd had any doubts about my choice of woman, her prattling on all night about her extra-sensory skills, her ability to commune with the dead and her keen interest in astrology, had quickly erased most of them. "Am I now? You can tell this after a few drinks?"
"Mmm hmm." Angie's hand slithered lower to my abdomen, pulverizing the last of my reservations.
I snatched her to me, her lithe curves yielding to mold themselves against me in warm surrender.
If only I could banish the fleeting fear of failure chipping away at the edges of my self-esteem. The leprechaun had promised the little blue pill would solve all my problems. That I'd even sought out Paddy spoke to the severity of my desperation. If the imp lied to me, though, I would move heaven and earth to make the bastard pay tenfold for his treachery.
"Mmm, you're a commanding one aren't you?" Angie slid her arms up around my neck before laying a daisy chain of kisses from jaw to Adam's apple.
I answered with a low growl and savaged her lips with a hungry kiss. My plumbing worked fine; that had never been the problem. The challenge lay in the aftermath ... or lack thereof.
Angie's southbound hand settled into a firm grip on the front of my trousers. No turning back.
I needed mere seconds to strip her bare and stretch out her fair beauty on the bed, legs parted, her labia glistening and darkened with her arousal. I stripped off my own clothes. Eyes tracking my progress provided the enthusiastic audience I craved. This time would be different. I could feel it fizzing through my veins like champagne.
We kissed and writhed and fingered and licked ... all a steady click-click-click like a roller coaster ascending the big hill. Panting, Angie sat up and straddled me.
