Hustle: The Doyles: A Boston Irish Mafia Romance by Sophie Austin

Author:Sophie Austin [Austin, Sophie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-11-15T16:00:00+00:00

9

Seamus

The key slides into the door, and we step inside. Immediately, reflexively, I take my shoes off inside the door. When I look pointedly at Evelyn, she just rolls her eyes and then slides off her heels.

I try not to notice how good it feels to have her shoes next to mine.

“Lights on,” I command the smart home system that I installed last year. It doesn’t sound like much, but I reclaim a few minutes every day, and that can really add up to both productivity and billable hours.

It’s also just damn convenient when I want to focus on something else, like the drop-dead gorgeous woman that’s in my apartment.

Christ, seriously? Evi has already crossed to the leather sofa and folded herself into one corner. No taking it all in, no comments on the beautiful architecture or flawless decorating.

All this effort and she barely even notices. Instead, her eyes are on me, like I’m what she’s here for. No one ever comes here without commenting on the place.

No one ever just comes here to spend time with me.

I’m half pleased and half annoyed that it didn’t make an impression. I really want to make an impression on Evi tonight.

I pull out the best bottle of whiskey I have, from Ireland, and when I hand her a crystal glass, she sets it on a side table and keeps her eyes on me. Suddenly unsure, I look around, my eye going to a chair but she points to the cushion next to her.

“Sit.”

When I look at her, she’s giving me an easy smile. Her eyes are wide, and the liner is just a little imperfect after a night out. A diamond stud winks in her nose, and I wonder for a minute if it’s real. I’d buy her any jewel she wanted at that moment. The finest rings to smash into Brooks Stacy’s dumb fucking face.

God, she’s amazing. I try not to think about the PR fallout and legal exposure we might have to deal with tomorrow. But tonight?

Just soaking up the fact that she’s a total badass.

She rests her bare foot on my thigh, and I can’t help but stare. She has beautiful feet, smooth and long, with toenails painted dark red. I can’t say that a foot has ever turned me on, but there’s a first time for everything, it seems. I set down my glass, and wrap a hand around her foot.

She jumps in surprise, but then lets out a little noise of pleasure when I knead the balls of her foot and run my knuckle down the long line of it. I focus, following exactly the steps that I’ve memorized at the spa where I’ve had this done. I can’t imagine wearing the heels she does without daily foot rubs.

Her head is thrown back, her eyes half closed. Fuck yes, I love the sight of Evi in pure pleasure. I’d love to show her more pleasure, but we’re walking a dangerous line.

“Didn’t peg you for a foot guy,” she murmurs and I look at her hard, my hands slowing.

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