(The Hurricane #3)
Publication date: March 21st 2017
Genres: New Adult, Romance, Sports
Marie Kelly is a survivor who doesn’t know when to quit. Against all odds, she’s living a life she never dreamed she could have. It was enough… until a stubborn boxer makes her want more.
Irish charmer Kieran Doherty has been a fighter at Driscoll’s Gym for most of his life. He’s been content to let his best friend take the spotlight, now it’s his turn to make a name for himself in the world of heavy weight champions. Falling in love is the one thing he vowed never to do, but meeting Marie changed everything.
It’s easy to imagine a happy-ever-after when the sun is shining. But when the storm comes, and all hope seems lost, they both learn that if you want something badly enough, you have to be willing to fight for it.
The ring of the alarm was interfering with a perfectly good daydream, but when I realised the noise was coming from the phone, I grabbed at it. None of my family called this early in the morning, so I worried it was an emergency.
“Hello?” I said down the phone, bracing myself for bad news.
“Tell me you were touching yourself in bed and thinking of me when I called,” Kieran replied.
“You sound like some heavy-breathing pervert,” I said, giggling.
“Irish, that’s exactly what I am.”
“Serious, what’s with the heavy breathing?”
“I’m running, but I’ve got hands free.”
“Doesn’t it mess up your rhythm to talk while you run?” I couldn’t imagine being able to run to the corner shop and back, let alone hold a conversation while I was doing it.
“Hell yes, but it’s worth it to speak to you. Between my training and your work, I’m getting some serious withdrawals. Last night just made things worse. Now I want you in my bed every night,” he admitted. I couldn’t help my little groan as I imagined that too. “Seriously, baby, you can’t be making noises like that when I’m not there. Running and talking is one thing, but even I don’t think I can run with a hard-on.”
I laughed as I imagined it, and just like that, Kieran had filled up the gloom with his light.
“Why are you running again?” I asked him. “Didn’t you run to the gym this morning?”
“Usually I don’t have to run again until lunch or the evening, but Danny’s pissed.”
“Why?” I’d met Danny a few times since I’d known Em, but I didn’t know him well. Still, I couldn’t see what Kieran could have done to wind him up already. He’d only been at the gym a couple of hours.
“Tommy shouted across the gym to ask me where I spent last night, because he called me at Ma’s and I wasn’t there. When I told him I spent it with you, Danny lost his shit. He thinks I broke the sex ban, and despite pleading my innocence, I don’t think he’s really buying it. He told me to ‘feck off outta his sight for five miles.’”
“Poor baby. Do you think it would help if I wrote you a note confirming that my virtue’s intact?” I asked him, giggling.
“Even if he didn’t tell me to feck off, it wouldn’t be entirely true. I mean, we might not have technically broken the ban, but I think about fingering you at least once every half hour,” he admitted.
“Kieran,” I whined, rubbing my thighs together, trying to ease the ache building between them.
“’Course, then I start think about touching my tongue between your legs, and how sweet you’ll taste. And that gets me thinking what it’ll feel like when I’m finally inside you, below with you above me, and behind with you bent over in front of me. Whether I’ll have my hands on your tits, or whether they’ll be in my mouth,” he said. It might have been my imagination, but his breathing seemed to get much harder.
“You’re going to give yourself that hard-on,” I warned.
“Yeah, it’s a bit late for that, Irish. Not one of my best ideas, calling you in the middle of training.”
“Serves you right for getting me all hot and horny when you aren’t here to do anything about it,” I replied, laughing.
“Man, that is a fucking beautiful sound. I’ll see you tonight, love, and I don’t worry, I don’t mind in the slightest if you touch yourself after I hang up as long as you’re thinking about me,” he said.
“Good luck training for the rest of the day with that visual in mind,” I replied, making him groan as he realised what he’d done.
“It’s gonna be a long day,” he said on a sigh.
“Only twelve more hours, Kier, and just for you, I’ll wear my favourite blue panties today to match the colour of your balls,” I replied. The line went quiet for a second, and it sounded like he’d stopped.
“Irish, I think I’ve finally met my match,” he said, breathlessly.
USA Today bestselling author R.J. Prescott was born in Cardiff, South Wales, and studied law at the University of Bristol, England. Four weeks before graduation she fell in love, and stayed. Ten years later, she convinced her crazy, wonderful firefighter husband to move back to Cardiff where they now live with their two equally crazy sons. Her debut novel The Hurricane was an international bestseller and finalist in the Goodreads Awards in the category of debut author.