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Sixteen
Conner
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?”Declan’s hand falls heavily on my shoulder, holding me in place. I’d made it halfway across the bar before he stopped me.
“We’re out of vodka,” I say automatically. It’s what I always say when I’m about to get laid in the Ladies’ room.
“God damn it, Con—” Declan takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, shaking his head. “That chick reeks of money. Money means trouble.”
“Don’t worry about me, I’m a big boy,” I say, shrugging out from under his grip. “I can handle myself.”
“Fuck you—what about me? Da? Patrick? This bar belongs to him. We’ve already dodged one lawsuit.” Declan takes a step back and jams his hands into his pockets while he takes a look around. The place is packed, and with the two of us standing here, there’s no one behind the bar. “You don’t even care, do you?”
He’s wrong. I do care. I care a lot. But I’m reaching critical mass here. I need to take the edge off.
Before I can tell him to fuck off, he yanks his hands out of his pockets to wave me off. “Fifteen minutes. You and that dick of yours better be back to slingin’ drinks before—”
I didn’t even bother to listen to the rest of it. Just turned away from him, heading for the hallway the redhead disappeared down.
Fifteen minutes. I can get it done in ten.
She’s waiting for me, leaning against the wall next to the ladies’ room, like she knows that’s where we’re headed. My reputation must precede me. Probably fucked a friend of hers. Probably came looking for me. Her head’s tipped down, that long fall of dark auburn hair, hiding her expression. She has her cell phone pressed to her ear, and even though I couldn’t see her mouth moving, I can hear the quiet murmur of her voice. I should stop. Wait for her to finish her phone call, but I don’t.
“Yes… yes… okay. I will.” She sighed softly a moment before her head kicks up, sliding the curtain of hair away from her face. “I’ll be fine,” she says, staring up at me with those big doe eyes, the tip of her tongue peeks out to touch her upper lip for just a moment before disappearing again. The erection I’ve been sporting goes from stiff to rock hard the second our eyes connect.
The bathroom is about three feet from where we’re standing, which is entirely too far. I step into her, my hands dropping to her hips, fisting themselves in what feels like silk to yank it up around her hips. I’ve got it halfway up her thighs, my hand coasting up the inside. I can feel the heat of her, the warm push of breath she lets out when my fingers skim along the cleft of her lace covered pussy. From the corner of my eye, I can see the bar crowd beyond the hallway. Hear the clink of glasses. The clack of pool balls. The rise and fall of voices. People can see us. Anyone of them could stumble down the hall at any minute.
Don’t. Fucking. Care.
“I… I love you too.” She looks right at me when she says it, and for a second I think she’s saying it to me.
Then it hits me.
She’s married.
I look at the hand holding the cell to find it bare. No ring. Maybe not married but at the very least involved with someone else, and I can pretty much guarantee he isn’t a mechanic/bartender who lives over his shop and has to scrub for forty-five minutes just to get the grease from under his fingernails. Whoever he is, he has money. Power. Influence. Declan’s words came back to me.
A lawsuit would ruin all of us.
I can see it play out. Little Miss Moneybags goes slumming for some rough sex and finds exactly what she’s looking for… and then she gets caught. Cue the waterworks and accusations. Fast forward to my Da, brother, and cousin losing everything they’ve worked their entire lives for and me sitting in an 8x8 waiting for a trial date.
I drop my hand and smooth her skirt back into place.
She ends the call and tries to slip the cell back into her purse but her hands are shaking, and she can’t work the clasp of it open. “I’m sorry, that was my—”
I take them both from her and undo the clasp with a quick click. “I don’t care who it was, Daisy,” I say, dropping the phone into its dark interior. There’s a hard edge to my voice that stops her mid-sentence. “Husband. Boyfriend. Favorite grandmother who bakes you cookies and tucks you in at night.” I gave her the Gilroy grin in full force. “None of my business.”
“Does it make a difference?” she says it quietly, taking her purse from me before catching her bottom lip between her teeth.
Making up my mind, I wrap my hand around her wrist, pulling her further down the hall toward the storeroom we use as an office. There’s a surveillance camera in there. Not exactly what my big brother, the Peeping Tom, had in mind when he had it installed but not fucking this chick isn’t an option. Not even a choice, really.
I’m a junkie, and I need my fix.
I could hear the click of her expensive heels as she hurried along beside me. Practically feel her breath, quick and shallow against the side of my face. I have the key dug out of my pocket and shoved into the lock before I can change my mind. Giving it a twist, I open the door. “Last chance to change your mind, Daisy,” I say without bothering to look at her. “You step through this door, I’m gonna fuck you, and I’m not going to be nice about it.”
I feel the uptick in her pulse, the hard slam of it against the hand I have wrapped around her wrist. Her wrist turns in my grip, and I’m sure I was too harsh. Too crass for her delicate sensibilities. She’s decided this walk on the wild side is a little too wild, and I’m glad. I am, because Declan’s right, this chick is too rich for my blood.
Instead of pulling away completely, instead of having the good sense to run for her fucking life, Little Miss Moneybags laces her fingers through mine as she steps closer, pressing her silk-clad breasts against the back of the shirt I did an oil change in a few hours ago.