Tuesday, February 9, 2016

F*ck of the Irish by Celia Aaron

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Eamon is my crush, the one guy I can’t stop thinking about. His Irish accent, toned body, and sparkling eyes captivated me the second I saw him. But since he slept with my roommate, who claims she still loves him, he’s been off limits. Despite my prohibition on dating him, he has other ideas. Resisting him is the key to keeping my roommate happy, but giving in may bring me more pleasure than I ever imagined.

My review: This is a quick, steamy story about a poor girl named Laurel that has the misfortune of having a total skank of a roommate that brings home a different guy every night. One night the roommate hooks up with a hot guy named Eamon she "falls in love with" immediately despite Eamon's total lack of continued interest in her. What's Laurel's bad luck? She becomes infatuated with the well built Irishman. Since she is the most loyal friend ever she keeps her distance from Eamon despite the roommates mixed signals about the relationship between Eamon and herself. Quite the pickle Laurel finds herself in, it actually gets to,the point where it's physically painful. This is the first book I have read by the author and I loved her way of rolling out a story. It was short, sweet and very, very hot but the story never felt rushed. Eamon's roommate seems to be a frickin' riot so I hope he gets his own story as well. This is my favorite kind of erotica. Short, mega sexy, has hot guys with accents and still manages to have a story thrown in. 5 stars from me. 'Sláinte chuig na fir, agus go mairfidh na mná go deo'

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I sipped my drink as he took a long swig of his beer. He came away with a foam mustache, and I had the craziest impulse to lick it. I smiled and stifled my laugh.
“What?” He raised his eyebrows at me. “Something on my face, love?”
“No.” I shook my head. “Not a thing?”
“Nope. Everything is totally normal.”
He took another swig, even more foam collecting on his upper lip.
“How about now?”
I giggled. “Perfectly fine. I see nothing amiss.”
He leaned in, the beer a mix of sweet and rich on his breath. “Care for a taste?”
My heart leapt into my throat and I stared into his eyes, the blue even deeper in the dimness of the bar.
He pulled me closer, his fingertips pressing into my shoulder. Before I could back away, his mouth was on mine, his lips firm and warm. I clutched his shirt as he pushed me into the wall, caging me with his muscular body. My breath was gone, stolen by him as he licked along the seam of my lips, asking for entrance. He slid a hand down to my lower back and pulled me against him, pressing my breasts hard into his chest. I gasped at the friction on my nipples and he plunged his tongue into me.
I moaned into his mouth, and he growled a low response. His tongue mastered mine, and he eclipsed any thoughts I may have had about propriety or people watching. There was only him, his mouth, his body, the heat he stoked inside me.    

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Celia Aaron is the self-publishing pseudonym of a published romance and erotica author. She loves to write stories with hot heroes and heroines that are twisty and often dark. Thanks for reading.

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