Page 32 of Delectable Lies

ROHAN

I lovenothing more in this life than stealing the fight from my enemy’s eyes. Especially when that enemy is none other than Liam Devereux.

For years, the slimy bastard has tried to one-up me, at school, in sports, even in boxing, but he never succeeds. Which…is all kinds of pathetic — if you were to ask me — considering his parents own the most reputable MMA gym on this side of the Isle and have even trained some of the best athletes this country has ever seen. Still, poor Liam always falls a fraction behind, and today was no different.

Let’s face it; there wasn’t a goddamn thing he could have done to stop me from drawing Saoirse into my chest, nor could he have controlled the way her cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink at my dirty words. Call me narcissistic, but the look of defeat in his eyes made my pursuit of Saoirse more satisfying. The way the fight drained from his face as my hand stole the breath from his lungs — pure crazed perfection.

Sure, to most of the public eyes, Liam and I are friends, standing together, portraying a united front for the sake of the syndicate, but behind the scenes, the MVPs know there is no love lost between the King and Devereux sons. There has always been a drive, a healthy rivalry that pushes us to be better, stronger, faster, and everything else in between. Now, it seems Killybegs’ long-lost princess is no exception, which will only make my victory that much sweeter.

Liam may think I don’t see through his pathetic protector act, but he’s sorely mistaken. He might have naïve little Saoirse eating out of the palm of his hand, but I know better, and he’s fucked in the head if he thinks he’ll slither in and romance his way into a position that’s rightfully mine because I will never allow it to happen.

See, the thing about me is, I’m a purebred arsehole, but at least I’m honest about it. I only have one face, and if you don’t like it, I don’t care enough to give a shit.

If Liam wants to take me on in a war of hearts for the Killybegs Queen, he better hitch up his jockstrap because this is another battle I refuse to fucking lose.

Finally, I come to a halt outside of my guest house, raise my hand to the keypad and type in the code. The tell-tale click of the door opening resounds, and I push through to find Aodhán spread out across my couch, eating my fucking Pringles.

“Well, well, well.” His eyes narrow on mine as amusement hooks his mouth to one side. “Are you done with today’s episode ofRohan becoming a Joe Goldberg levelstalker?”

Ignoring him and his smart remark, my feet carry me forward, past his slumped frame and into the open-plan kitchen. My throat swells with thirst, so I open the fridge and pull out a bottle of Evian, then bring it to my lips, allowing the freezing cold water to rush down my oesophagus, chilling my insides.

Once I’ve consumed the entire bottle of water, I crunch it in my fist, then toss it like a basketball into the recycle bin across the room.

Acknowledging the rattle in my stomach, I tear open the press above the sink, grab a share bag of original Hula Hoops, and head over to my favourite armchair before slumping down in the seat.

I pull the bag open and pour a mouthful of hoops into my mouth, savouring each chew.

Finally, I lock eyes with Aodhán’s watchful glare. “FYI, today’s stalking turned into talking."Teasing, maybe a little touching.

“Oh.” He snickers behind closed lips. “Did you give Saoirse your virginity? How about hand-holding? Is that still a thing?”

Reaching beneath my arm, I grab one of the black throw pillows my mam insisted I needed and toss it straight at him, hitting him square between the eyes.

“Don’t you remember?” I taunt. “Your mam already took my V-card. Apparently, Daddy Brady wasn’t hitting that tight arse right.”

“You’re an animal.”

“That’s what she said.” I hike a brow as I push myself from my seat. “Now, if you could politely fuck off to your own house, that would be great. I’ve got shit to do.”

Pulling himself up, he shoots me a knowing grin. Then, as he skitters backwards, he raises his clenched hand in the air and pumps up and down. “Don’t choke the chicken too hard, my friend. God forbid, he’ll fall off.”

I point to the door, but there’s nothing I can do to wipe the slithery smug smirk off my grinning face. “Get the fuck out!”

* * *

The scaldinghot water sprays from the overhead rain shower and rushes over my face. Lifting my hands to my face, I scrub up and down before running my hands through my wet hair, allowing all the excess water to flow down the back of my neck and over my shoulder muscles. Then with a deep exhale, I release today's tension woven beneath my skin.

Fuck, there is nothing like a steamy hot shower after a good workout.

My hands, still positioned at the base of my neck, needle the taut muscles as I stand rigid beneath the pounding water pressure for a few minutes.

Fuck, I love the way the blistering heat licks over my aching shoulders. Once I’m semi-relaxed, I grab my bar of Creed Aventus soap from the built-in shelf and lather up every inch of my skin. Before long, the shower fills with thetantalising top notes of Italian bergamot, blended with a subtle hint of pineapple, oakmoss and musk.

Suddenly, visions of Saoirse backed up against a moss-covered tree trunk flood my scenes. Followed by images of my knife trailing between her small pert breasts as her razor-sharp nipples teased me as they fought against the barely-there cloth of her pyjama top, begging me to slice through the material and draw each one into my mouth. At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to lower my head and graze my teeth over her hardened buds. It took every ounce of strength I had not to shed her from the confines of her sleepwear and fuck her into oblivion.

Imagining her and her olive skin glistening beneath the bright white moonlight and how her soft pouty pink lips parted as she sucked in a breath when my words infiltrated her ears has my cock pulsing.

Without thought, my soapy hand glides over my taut abdominal muscles, travelling lower, until my fingers curl around my now thickening cock with a lung-compressing clutch. My eyelids slam shut, and Saoirse’s face comes into view once more.

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