An Irish Affair (Heart 0f Hope Book 2) Read online

  An Irish Affair

  A Second Chance Secret Baby Romance (Heart of Hope Book 2)

  Ajme Williams

  Contents

  Description

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Epilogue

  So Wrong (Preview)

  More Books in the Series

  Want more Ajme Williams?

  Copyright © 2020 by Ajme Williams

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of authors imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. The following story contains mature themes, strong language and sexual situations. It is intended for mature readers only.

  All characters are 18+ years of age and all sexual acts are consensual.

  Cover Photo Credit: Shutterstock.com

  Description

  I’d always found Irish men to be irresistible.

  And Devin?

  He’s the hottest one of them all.

  I had my chance with him.

  Heck, I even have a baby with him.

  A four-year old boy.

  My only secret.

  I lost my V-card to Devin on St. Patrick’s night four years ago.

  My biggest mistake was thinking that I could trust him.

  Hot men like him are trouble.

  Besides, he made it clear to me that he hates kids.

  Hates.

  Fast-forward to when he meets our little boy.

  A meeting that I tried my hardest to avoid.

  I might have expected them to get along but… best buddies?

  Devin is supposed to hate kids, remember?

  It’s only a matter of time until he finds out his birthday.

  And when he does…

  Oh boy!

  Prologue

  Serena—St. Patrick’s Day, Five Years Ago

  Oh my God! What am I doing? When I thought about what it would be like to lose my virginity, I hadn’t considered it would be with a man I’d met only hours before. And yet here I was, in a fancy hotel room with Devin Roarke, who’d I’d met that afternoon when I served him lunch.

  “Are you nervous?” Devin leaned against the hotel room door that he’d just shut and looked at me with those amazing green eyes.

  “A little.” A lot actually, but the strange part was that I still desperately wanted to go through with it. Twenty-one felt too old to still be a virgin and I didn’t have any other prospects. And Devin Roarke! Holy cow. I couldn’t have ordered up anyone more perfect. Funny. Sweet. Sexy as sin. Rich. Not that I’d have any of him after tonight, but I’d entered fairy tale-ville the minute he said he’d meet me to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day.

  “How about some champagne? Something as momentous as losing your virginity deserves champagne.” He strode toward the table that held a bucket of ice with champagne in it. It was a testament to how quickly rich people could arrange what they wanted. He must have told the hotel desk clerk to send it up. Somehow it had arrived before we did.

  I nodded, even though we’d had a good amount to drink already. After all, it was St. Patrick’s Day. In New York City, that’s what you did on St. Patrick's. Drink. I was sure all that drinking was why I’d lost control of myself and admitted to being a virgin. Perhaps an alcohol haze was why he’d offered to help me, as I was sure I wasn’t Devin’s type. Even with a few drinks under my belt, I was still bewildered about how he ended up spending the evening with me.

  I’d been serving the lunch crowd in the chic diner I worked in to help pay for college when Devin and his friend Danny showed up. They weren’t the first cocky, handsome, rich boys I’d ever served, but they were the first that I agreed to meet later. Then again, they were the first to say they wanted to meet me and my friend Kim.

  I wasn’t ugly, but I couldn’t imagine I was the type Devin normally went for. I wasn’t tall, rich, or glamorous. I was average in height, rounder in build, and while I felt pretty, I wasn’t a cover girl.

  The conversation started innocently enough when I delivered their lunch plates.

  “Come on, Dev, it’s one of the biggest parties of the year,” his friend Danny said.

  Devin sat back as I set his plate in front of him. “It’s the same party as all the other ones. Don’t you ever get sick of it? The same people talking the same shit, all of it bullshit. It’s all plastic and fake.”

  “No. I don’t.”

  Devin looked up at me, which was when I first noticed how green his eyes were.

  “Can I get you anything else?” I asked.

  “What are you doing for St. Patrick's?” Devin asked me.

  “Pub crawl,” I answered. “There’s probably bullshit there too, but no plastic. All salt-of-the-earth people. And affordable. Five dollar whiskey shots.”

  Devin let out a loud laugh, while his friend frowned.

  “Are you old enough?” Devin asked.

  “Yep.” This year I was finally old enough, although I had gone the year before with a fake ID.

  “How many bars?” Devin pressed on.

  “I think there’s fifty or so participating. We’ll see how far we get.” I looked over my shoulder to make sure the manager wasn’t glaring at me for taking too long with my customers.

  “Devin, we told Lauren and Evie we’d—”

  “You told them.”

  “You’re leaving next week for who knows how long. Don’t you want to spend it with your friends?” Danny asked.

  I wondered where Devin was going that would keep him away. I doubted the rich people sent their kids into the military.

  “Not tonight, I don’t.” Devin looked up at me again. “You willing to give me a tour?”

  I stared at him, wondering if I was being punked or something. “You look old and smart enough to figure it out on your own.”

  His eyes narrowed slightly and his lips quirked up as if he was amused by me. “I’ve been sheltered all my life. I need someone to guide me through the real world.”

  I smirked, but found that I was amused by him too. Even so, I didn’t want to commit too much. I took out a pen from my pocket and wrote the name of the bar Kim and I would be at tonight to start the party.

  “I’ll be there at seven. Lauren and Evie are invited too.”

  Devin laughed again.

  Danny shook his head. “They’ll never go for that.”

  I shrugged. “Regular folk don’t have cooties.”

  “Rena! Table eight,” my manager yelled.

  “Gotta go, boys.”

  “I’ll see you
at seven,” Devin said as I walked off.

  I didn’t believe it for a minute that he’d be there, and so I was shocked when he stepped up beside me as I waited for my first shot of whiskey.

  “So this is how the real world parties, huh?”

  Kim blinked as Devin slung his arm over my shoulder.

  “You came,” I managed around my shock.

  “Yep.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “It’s not like you’ve never been clubbing. You can’t tell me you’ve never been bar hopping.”

  “I have, but with the plastic people.”

  “Who are plastic people?” Kim asked.

  “The people I normally hang out with,” he said waving to the bartender and calling out for a shot of whiskey.

  “Rich people,” I clarified for Kim. “He wants to slum it tonight.”

  “Nah.” He shook his head. “I’m looking for real. Like you.”

  “Where is your friend?”

  “With the plastic people. I didn’t catch your name before.”

  “Serena and this is Kim.” To my thinking, Kim was more his type. She wasn’t rich or fake, but she was thin, tall, and more classically pretty.

  “I’m Devin.” He grabbed the three drinks and handed one to each of us. “Sláinte.”

  And then we were off, making our way through New York, visiting bars on the pub crawl route, drinking and laughing. Laughing a lot. He didn’t come off as rich and pompous, although I suppose that was why he was with us instead of his usual crew; he was bored of rich and pompous.

  “So where are you going in a week that you don’t know when you’ll be back?” I asked about his friend’s comment at our third bar. Kim was lost in a gaze with Todd, a college classmate she was into.

  The relaxed smile on Devin’s face faded. “Europe.”

  “Gee, how awful.” I quipped. Only a rich person could feel put out by having to go to Europe.

  He shook his head. “My parents think it’s time for me to grow up. I’m being sent there to learn the family business. My gap year after finishing my MBA is over. Time to enter the real world.”

  “So, your family business is in Europe?”

  He nodded. “Here, Dublin, London, Paris…” He shook his head. “The purpose of tonight is to not have to think about it.” He downed his drink.

  Not wanting to ruin his fun, I didn’t ask him more about it.

  Around ten, at the fifth bar, Kim and Todd disappeared.

  “Your friend dumped you,” Devin said as we each nursed a Guinness.

  “I don’t mind. She’s into him.”

  “Who are you into?” Devin had to yell over the music and people even though I was just a few feet from him.

  “No one.” Well, that wasn’t true. Three hours and twice as many drinks, and I was well into him.

  “Why not?”

  I shrugged. “No one is into me either.”

  “Fucking waste.”

  I quirked a brow. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean you’re funny and pretty. It’s a waste that you’re not into someone.”

  “You’ve got your booze goggles on.”

  He frowned. “It’s not that. Why would you think that?”

  I sighed, not wanting to go into my love life or lack thereof. Better to focus on him. “Is Lauren or Evie wondering where you are?”

  He scoffed. “They’re probably pissed, but the best they could come up with was annoyance.”

  I had no idea what he meant.

  “The people in my world don’t like to show emotion except annoyance. No passion. No rage. No laughing…not that free and open kind anyway.”

  “Sounds miserable. With all that money, you’d think they could afford to be happy.”

  He laughed. “You’d think.”

  “So, what makes people like you happy?”

  “I’m happy now.” He held up his drink and I clicked my glass to his.

  “Your girlfriend is probably missing you though.”

  “I don’t have a girlfriend. Not technically, anyway.”

  What did that mean?

  He leaned forward. “Is your friend going to meet us again at the next place or has she committed the rest of the night to the guy?”

  “I’m pretty sure she’s committed the rest of the night.”

  “At least someone is getting laid.” He held up his glass again.

  “To getting laid.” I clicked my glass to his.

  He studied me. “When was the last time you got laid?”

  Had I not been filled with booze, I’d probably have been coy with my answer, but as it was, I was feeling loose. “Never.”

  He sat back with his jaw hanging down. Then he shook his head. “I’m sorry, did you say, never? You’ve never fucked?”

  I swallowed as I realized what I’d revealed. I looked down, feeling embarrassed. “No.”

  His hand covered mine. “Don’t feel embarrassed. Are you waiting for marriage or something?”

  “I’m not waiting. I just haven’t had the right opportunity.”

  He scoffed as he sat back again. “I know that’s bullshit.”

  I stared at him. “Why would you say that?”

  “I’d fuck you in a minute. Most of the men in this bar would too. You’ve had opportunities.”

  I looked at him and then around the bar wondering what men he meant. I hadn’t felt like I’d had any opportunities. Then again, the few men that might have wanted me didn’t do anything for me. I hadn’t wanted them.

  “Don’t you think you’ll like it?” he asked.

  “I suspect I would,” I said. The situation was a bit surreal. Was I really talking to him about my virginity?

  He leaned forward with a glint in his eyes. “Do you touch yourself?”

  Shocked, I could only gape.

  “No shame in it. I do it all the time.” He made a wanking gesture. “But the real thing is better. You should try it sometime.”

  “Maybe I will.” I managed.

  He finished his drink and stared at me.

  “What?” I asked, shifting under his gaze. His green eyes were glassy and yet I could see the wheels turning in his head.

  “I’ll fuck you.”

  “Gee thanks. So, kind of you to make the sacrifice.” All of a sudden, I was feeling humiliated and ready to go home and hide under my covers.

  “No.” His hand was on mine. “Not like that. Shit, I’m sorry.” He shook his head like he was trying to clear it. “It’s not a pity fuck I’m offering.” He scooted his chair closer to me and put my hand over his zipper. His dick was full underneath it. “I’m genuinely wanting to fuck you. If you wanted. I could teach you.”

  I looked into his green eyes as warmth spread through my body. My hormones chanted, “Yes, yes, yes,” but even with all the booze, my common sense warned that it might not be a good idea.

  His hand went to my cheek. “I’ve been dying to kiss you since lunch.”

  What? “Are you toying with me? Is this some sort of game or a bet?”

  He smiled. “You watch too many teen movies. No. I’m not toying with you and there’s no bet. I like you.” He leaned closer, his lips a whisper away from mine.

  Like a magnet, I closed the distance between us, pressing my lips to his. Fire ignited in my blood at the taste of him.

  He moaned, slanted his head and parted his lips. I moved in sync, letting his tongue in. It was hot against mine.

  His hand pressed mine against his dick. “See how bad I want you?” He murmured against my lips. “If you want to turn in your v-card, I can help.”

  By now, my pussy was throbbing and I didn’t feel like I had a choice. He was the only one to soothe the ache in my body.

  That’s how, twenty minutes later, we were in a fancy hotel room planning to do the deed.

  “How often have you done this?” I asked as he poured champagne.

  “Fucked? Or fucked a woman I’d just met?” He handed me a glass.

  “Both.�
�

  He smirked. “I’m young and rich.”

  “And sexy,” I added.

  He smiled. “I’m glad you think so.”

  I rolled my eyes. “There’s no way you don’t know that about yourself.”

  He laughed. “That’s what I like about you. You say what you’re thinking.”

  “Hoity-toity people don’t?”

  He shook his head. “No. They like to be coy and in control. It’s fucking exhausting.” He took my hand and led me to the bed. “I want you to tell me everything you’re thinking and feeling.”

  “What if you don’t like what you see?”

  He stopped. “I already do.” His hands rested on my waist and then slowly slid up. “I want to touch your tits. Can I?”

  “You don’t have to do this,” I said, still struggling with the idea that he was that into me.

  He laughed. “I think that’s what I’m supposed to tell you.” His hands cupped my face. “Really. We don’t have to do this if you’re too nervous. Or we can stop anytime you feel uncomfortable.”

  I looked down. “I just can’t figure out why you’re here with me. I’m not special. I’m not sexy.”

  “Oh, but you are, Serena. Whether we do this or not, from now on when I jerk off, I’ll be thinking of you and I know I’ll come so hard.”

  His words sent another wave of erotic sensation coursing through my blood.

  “At the very least, let me get you off. I can do that without fucking you.”

  My pussy was aching for his touch.

  “Do you want that? Do you want to come?”

  “Yes,” I admitted.

  “Let me make you come.” His lips fused to mine and his hands began to undress me. He broke the kiss and sucked on a bra-covered nipple and that was it for me. All resistance or concern broke, replaced by white-hot need. My hands were like whirling dervishes as they worked to undress him too.