Page 64 of Three Irish Kings

My cheeks burn. “For me? Unbelievable. How was it for you? Didn’t mind sharing?”

He stiffens. “It’s not usually the way I do things.”

“You guys have really never...”

“Never what?” He smirks. “Don’t back down now,a ghrá.”

I huff out a breath. “You’ve never... shared a girl before?”

He slowly shakes his head. “The three of us? No.”

I stare at him. “So, you have had group sex before, just not with them?”

“Oh, aye, sure. But never with them. What about you?”

“It was my first time with more than one person.”

“You’re practically a virgin,” he teases, leaning up to nibble on my earlobe.

I shiver. “Nothing like that. At least not since I was a teenager.”

“Who was your first?”

I blink. “That’s a personal question.”

“My dick has been inside you; I’d say that’s pretty personal.”

“His name was Peter. Peter Morrow.”

“That’s a shitty name.”

I snort. “You can’t possibly be jealous of a guy I slept with a hundred years ago.”

“He clearly didn’t appreciate you. Or else he’d still be around.”

“What if I broke up with him?”

“Did you? Little heartbreaker.”

I giggle. “You’re right. I didn’t. He cheated on me with the cheer captain.”

Dare scoffs. “Then he clearly deserves my rage.”

“What, you gonna track him down and beat him up?”

“I mean, I could. I can find anyone.”

Except Maggie Sullivan.

But I keep that to myself.

I need to change the subject. This should be about my career, my one shot at getting inside information, so I need to get deeper. I need to find out somethingreal. I can’t write an article on what I assume to be true.

But also, if he isn’t bragging and he’s really telling the truth, he knows my name. He could findme, find out that I’m a journalist and that I’m still lying to them.

I touch his arm, the right one, which has a raven tattooed on it.

“What does this mean?”