All Of You: Only You

By Rhian Cahill

Claire Jones never thought the fantasies she'd been having about the hot—younger—guy next door would ever turn into her reality but after a push from her best friend and an encounter involving dirty laundry she's getting more reality than one woman should be allowed. But with reality comes emotion and Claire finds herself falling deeper and deeper under Ryan's spell until he's infiltrated every part of her life.

There's no doubt Ryan Doherty wants in Claire's pants but he soon realizes hot sex isn't the only thing he's after. She makes him happy in a way nothing and no one else ever has and if he has to use their amazing chemistry to stay in her life he will. Because having all of Claire isn't an option. It's the only choice.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rhian Cahill
• Release date: Feb 23, 2018
• ISBN: 9781925375268

Rhian Cahill

Rhian Cahill is the alter ego of a former stay-at-home mother of four. With motherly duties rapidly dwindling Rhian is able to make use of the fertile imagination she used to keep herself sane for all those years of slavery. Having spent some years living overseas and visiting tropical climates has helped inspire some steamy stories. Multi-published in erotic romance and contemporary romance, Rhian, with the help of Mr. Muse, spends her days and nights writing. When not glued to the keyboard you'll find her book or knitting in hand avoiding any and all housework as much as possible.   To find out more, visit Rhian on her website and subscribe to her newsletter.  You can also follow Rhian on Facebook ,Instagram and Twitter. 

Book preview

1

Claire Jones stared at her best friend of almost forty years and wondered when Jane had lost her mind. Then again maybe it was Claire who'd lost hers. Either that or her hearing had gone in the last two minutes. Surely she wasn't that old. She'd be forty-two next birthday.

At what age does the body start to break down?

Her fork hovered between mouth and plate, the bite of lobster forgotten. Jane had not said what Claire's mind tried to convince her she'd heard. No, it had to be whatever had possessed Claire of late—the thing that had her fantasizing about her very sexy, very young, next-door neighbor.

Claire smiled. For a second there, Jane, I thought you said I should fuck Ryan. She popped the fork into her mouth and savored the delicate flavor combination of lobster, butter, and garlic as it exploded across her tongue.

Jane chewed the piece of steak she'd just put in her mouth and reached for her glass of wine. She swallowed and took a sip of the deep red liquid. Her wine coated tongue slid out to wet her lips before she spoke. I did.

The lobster caught in the back of Claire's throat, choking her briefly. Her fork clattered to the plate, and she reached for her water in the hope it would ease the food down. She coughed and spluttered before the cool liquid moved the lump blocking her airway and brought soothing relief.

What? she croaked.

You should fuck him. Jane's gaze was steady. I've seen the way he eats you up with his eyes. He's hot for you, and before you deny it, I know you've been having all sorts of interesting fantasies about him. You told me so yourself.

The smug look on Jane's face made Claire want to take back every word of that old conversation. She'd confided more than one of the steamy daydreams she'd been having in which Ryan played a starring role. Luckily, she hadn't divulged the incredibly hot wet dreams she'd woken with every night for the last month. Her fantasizing had definitely become more frequent—more intense—in recent weeks.

Jesus, Jane. What the hell are you thinking? I'm old enough to be his mother. Claire tried to keep her voice barely above a whisper, her gaze darting across to the nearest table. The thought of anyone overhearing the conversation terrified her.

"Only if you'd had him really young."

It doesn't change the fact I'm old enough to be his mother.

But you're not.

Christ. There's at least fifteen years between us. I even look old enough to be his mother, Claire protested.

No you don't, Jane's words were taking on the tone she got whenever someone was pissing her off.

But I could be! Claire's voice came out a high-pitched squeak. She quickly glanced at the nearby tables. The whole discussion was wrong. Jane should have been able to see that. How cruel was it to dangle something in front of her that was so out of her reach?

"Again, you're not. And I think you're protesting too much. Jane's hand slid across the table and landed on Claire's. You don't look a day over thirty, and one of the hottest guys I've ever seen outside of a magazine drools all over you whenever you're close. I'm not telling you to marry him. I'm telling you to take what both of you clearly want. Fuck each other into oblivion for the sheer pleasure of it."

Jane pulled her hand back and picked up her wine. Claire waited for her to say something else. Tried to think of another reason why it was a bad idea to think about fucking Ryan, never mind actually doing it. But her mind was going the way her body had the minute she'd met Ryan Doherty—straight to the hell of lusting after a man she could never have.

Are the proofs in for tomorrow's meeting? Jane asked.

The change of topic had Claire stumbling. Um…yes. I got them first thing this morning.

Did they turn out as well as we thought they would?

Better. Branded may be expensive, but they're worth every penny we pay them for our advertising.

Good. I'm not in the mood to fight with Mr. Nichols about it again.

Claire laughed. Yeah, it took us long enough to convince him to try our idea for the winter range.

Jane shuddered. You weren't the one that offered to get down on your knees and beg!

Laughing harder, Claire tried to speak but gave up when she couldn't get rid of the image of her best friend on her knees in front of stodgy old Nichols.

Jane grinned. Yeah, not someone I wanna get on my knees for.

Claire relaxed as they ate the rest of their lunch—the subject of fucking Ryan was dropped. But after they left the restaurant for the office restlessness began to plague Claire, hanging on all afternoon and making time drag.

Her mind kept going back to what Jane had suggested, "…take what both of you clearly want. Fuck each other into oblivion…"

By the time five o'clock rolled around, Claire was more than ready to escape and head home to the peace and quiet her townhouse offered. She longed for a hot bath, a glass of wine, and good book. Preferably all at the same time.

Traffic was a bitch. A sixty-minute drive quickly turned into ninety minutes in hell. Claire cursed and muttered under her breath the whole way. Even lowered the window and swore at the driver of a truck after he almost became her new hood ornament.

Frazzled, hot, and sticky she was ready for a whole bottle of wine when she finally approached her drive at little less than top speed. Too distracted by her own annoyance, Claire didn't notice the man standing in the parking lot until she nearly ran him over. Cursing a blue streak any sailor worth his salt would envy, she slammed on the brakes, threw the car into park, and flung her door open.

Are you fucking crazy! she screamed as she launched from the vehicle. I could have run you dow— The air left her lungs and her words caught in her throat. The glistening flesh of a god-like, bare male chest numbed her mind and turned her body into a quivering vessel of need.

Ryan.

God the man is to die for. Claire would have had to be dead not to notice. Even dead I'd notice him. She tried to swallow over the lump of harsh words in her throat.

Evening, Claire, bad day at the office?

Ryan's smirk should have been irritating. Instead it did funny things to her belly, stirred and warmed it like soup in a saucepan. She licked her lips, swallowed again, and finally dragged a few words from the depths of lust-induced stupidity. Drive home.

Jeez, could I be anymore lame? The man probably thought she was an idiot. Hell, she acted like a dumb schoolgirl every time he was around, so who could blame him if he did?

Ah, yes. I heard there was a bad accident on the highway earlier. They said traffic would be screwed for hours.

His gaze dropped to where her blouse sat snug across her breasts, the material raising and lowering with every labored breath. Her nipples strained beneath her bra. The look in his eyes one of hunger—desire. Could Jane be right about him? The thought sent shockwaves of heat bursting out from the breasts he hadn't stopped staring at. Her pulse quickened, her breath turned short—choppy. Her clit ached, and Claire squeezed her thighs together to ease the throb.

Ryan's nostrils flared, and his gaze came back to meet hers. The heat and lust swirling in the green orbs delivered another burst of heat to her body. Claire shivered. Goose bumps sprang up all over her skin and moisture filled her panties. God, if he could do that with a look what could he do with a touch? Sparks of gold ignited in his eyes, and Claire wondered why she'd never noticed those flecks of light before. Had she ever allowed herself to look that close?

No. She'd kept contact with Ryan to a minimum. Usually because she found it hard to string a sentence together with the way he had her body exploding to life whenever he got close. Oh, who was she kidding? Just thinking about him sent her nerve endings into a frenzied bunch of sex-craving knots. Claire closed her eyes and took a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself. Big mistake.

The scent of hot, sweaty male flooded her nose and lungs. Her body went from mild arousal to fever pitch in a nanosecond. The smell of a hardworking man had always turned Claire on, but coming from Ryan it tweaked her senses on a whole new level. Her pussy throbbed and turned slick, her breasts swelled and grew heavy, and her nipples rasped against the cotton bra she wore. Her eyes popped open wide, and without permission her torso leaned closer to what tantalized her.

A cool breeze ruffled the hems of her skirt and blouse, drifting beneath the material to flow over heated skin. Her clit burned with want, and Claire knew she could climax with minimal effort. Hell, she was so close it would take no more than a brush of his hand or lips to set her off.

Shit. She had to get away.

Without a word she spun on her heels and dove back into her car. Slamming the door, she put the car in gear and shot into her parking spot. In one move she switched the engine off and grabbed her handbag. After jumping from her seat, she shut the door with her hip then strode across the asphalt. Aiming her keys over her shoulder, she activated the door locks and alarm.

Gotta go. Can't stop, she called out as she made a dash for the front of her townhouse…safety.

It took longer than she liked to fumble her way inside and close the door behind her. Slumping against the cool timber, Claire let her head fall back with a thunk and stared at the ceiling in her foyer. She shuddered. She'd just made a complete fool of herself, and even if she'd been remotely contemplating doing as Jane had suggested and what her body screamed for, she'd probably just managed to ruin any hope she may have had at succeeding.

Ryan reached down and adjusted his cock. The second Claire had bounded out of her car all flushed with anger and the stress of sitting in traffic too long, he'd had a hard-on and nowhere for it to go. The damn thing hurt from being bent in half, but Ryan refused to move it like some randy little schoolboy in front of Claire. It didn't matter that she made him feel like one, he flat-out would not stoop to behaving like one.

It didn't help to see her looking like she'd just rolled out of bed. Her cheeks flushed a rosy pink. Strands of silky brown hair flying every which way, like someone had run their fingers through it. Ryan could picture his hands wrapped around her head, imagine his fingers tangled in those soft tresses. He'd hold her still while he took his time devouring