*favorite* REVIEW: F*ck of the Irish (The Hard and Dirty Holidays) by Celia Aaron

Title: F*ck of the Irish
Series: (The Hard and Dirty Holidays)
Author: Celia Aaron
Genre: New Adult Contemporary Erotic Romance Novella
Rating: 5-Stars
Cliffhanger: No
HEA: Yes
Review on Goodreads: HERE

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.

♥ (The Hard and Dirty Holidays, #1) A Stepbrother for Christmas
♥ (The Hard and Dirty Holidays, #2) Bad Boy Valentine
♥ (The Hard and Dirty Holidays, #3) F*ck of the Irish

*Each novella can be read as a standalone*

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Laurel will never tell, but she has a hush-hush crush. Too bad he's off-limits, only to be admired from afar. But no matter how in love with him her roommate claims to be, Laurel can't forget his startling blue eyes or the cheeky dimples that wink at her mischievously when he smiles...

He’d stolen the air from my lungs, and I already knew he wanted to take much, much more.

And smile at Laurel he does—a lot. Too bad he can't seem to hold her attention for more than a few seconds; her eyes always flickering away from his, gorgeous blonde hair hiding her face from view. He knows that aversion to him is because of how they met: with him in her roommate's bed, naked and waiting to do the walk-of-shame.

But Eamon regrets it, f*cking her roommate; he's felt that from the moment he woke up to Laurel standing above him, her angelic face branding itself into his mind and heart. Too bad she's off-limits, only to be admired from afar.

I couldn’t wait any longer. I had to claim her. I moved up to my elbows and grabbed a handful of her soft blonde hair in my right hand. “I can’t stop this, love. I’m going to fuck you hard, raw. The way you need.”

Until Eamon can't stand it anymore; his desire to have her, to claim her mind, body, and heart, as his, overtakes any and all rational thought. And Laurel is no better; her want for him, her need to hear him whisper "love" in her ear as he f*cks her, overtakes any and all of the reasons why she shouldn't be enjoying a hot, dirty F*ck of the Irish over and over again.

Every morning when I wake up and realize you don’t want me, my heart breaks all over again. ~E

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She’d been in my arms. Right where she belonged, finally. But then she’d escaped. I wanted to grab her and toss her over my shoulder, take her to my room and horse it in as rough as I pleased. But she wasn’t that sort of betty.

The heroine Laurel was f*cking adorable!! Seriously, from the moment the book began, I could tell she was sugar-sweet from the tips of her tiny toes to the tops of her petite shoulders. Which made her naughty side between-the-sheets that much more liberating, and entertaining! (;

“Hard.” I was panting. “Rough. Take it from me.”

And F*ck of the Irish's Hero, Eamon...

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!*squeals*!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!*breathes heavily*!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!*freaks the f*ck out*!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Okay. Okay. I'm somewhat calm. No, I'm kidding. I'm totally still fangirling—long and hard. Because Eamon was everything thing I ADORE in a book boyfriend and more—he had the cute, dimpled grin, sexy, playful personality, dazzling blue eyes, obsessive & possessive need, hot, athletic bod, a heart of gold, faithful bones, and a dirty-talking mouth that spoke with the most panty-melting Irish brogue, huskily whispering oh-so intensely from the book's pages...

“Love, I need you to understand that you’re mine. I love you. I did from the moment I saw you. Tell me you’re clear on that.” He glanced over to me, his face drawn and serious.

*faints from swoooooooooning*

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F*ck of the Irish is the first book I've read by Celia Aaron, but it sure as heck won't be my last. The lovable characters, lovely insta-love, and my overall loveloveLOVE of this story, reminded me of my favorite Alexa Riley reads—which means, there's potential for Celia Aaron to be a favored, one-click author as well.

Because in the limited number of pages, she managed to write a novella that had well-developed characters, a dash of intriguing drama to the plot, soul-searching love, and 5-Golden-Stars of kiss-me-gently-f*ck-me-roughly sex.

I thought I was randy. I thought I was turned on. I wasn’t. When she said those words to me and looked up at me with her amber eyes, I wanted to eat her up, every last bit of her.

Because, yes, in its 69 pages, this book made me blush, swoon, and bite my lip on wistful, wishful sighs. And I honestly don't know if any other novella has ever enraptured me as this one has—and my only regret when finishing, was that I couldn't "F*ck of the Irish" this book boyfriend longer. *le sigh*

Her breathy voice was like a whip at my back, spurring me onward.

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So I would most definitely recommend this book for those who want a foul-mouthed Irishman to show you his pot of gold, for a treat to his lucky charms that'll having you seeing rainbows and screaming for another quick-and-dirty F*ck of the Irish. *wiggles brows*

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*PS: I was given an copy of this book. But I do solemnly swear that I am up to...good. ;) This is a fair and honest review of this book, pinky promise.*