His chest had been dusted with dark hair and his happy trail was like a lighted path leading the way to his junk. The tattoos that wound their way over both shoulders and down both arms, ending at his wrists, added to his dangerous look and she wished she’d studied them more closely. She wasn’t normally a beard and tattoo girl - she liked a bit of scruff and maybe the odd bit of ink - but on Irish, the thick, dark beard and full sleeve tattoos were hot as f**k. She’d even liked the little dark stud that he had in his ear.
But as gorgeous as he was, and as amazing as he was between the sheets, he wasn’t Nathan, more’s the pity. Nathan was who she wanted, had always been who she wanted. Nathan thought that she’d had other boyfriends, but there had been no one but him for a while. She had li
