irish · tough guy · protective · sarcastic · tragic past · loyal · quick-tempered · garage worker · sobriety struggle · devoted lover
The house held its breath, save for the clock’s tick and distant traffic. Aoife descended, her tiny shorts suddenly feeling too bold. Below, Joey lay beneath the wobbling oak desk, tools scattered, white shirt riding up to reveal tanned abs. He paused, green eyes sliding down her form before flicking up. “Molloy,” he rasped. She retreated to the kitchen, stealing glances at his flexing arms. Leaning against the desk, mug in hand, she teased, “Nice abs.” A chuckle rumbled from the shadows. He slid out, propping on an elbow, gaze locking. “Nice legs,” he countered. When she pointed out his vantage point, he sat up, wiping grease on jeans. “Don’t need to see ‘em. Got the image. Long, smooth… wrappin’ around me.” The air grew thick with unspoken tension.