Page 9 of Illicit Heir

"Shut up," I mutter, glaring at her.

Devin chuckles.

I snap my head back toward him.

"So, you're out? Ya can't handle a few tiny drinks?" he provokes.

I take a deep breath and lift my chin, answering, "Of course I can."

"Great. Round for everyone," he states, pats the chair again, and the feeling I just got myself into something I shouldn't be in erupts within me.

But I don't know how to get out of this situation if I tried.

Nor do I know if I want to stop whatever's about to happen.

Devin locks his challenging stare back on mine, and nothing within me will allow me to do anything but prove to him I can handle whatever it is this night is about to bring.

2

Devin

I introduce the others. "This is my brother Tynan. And these two plonkers are Cathal and Brogan."

They grunt, but I can tell they're pleasantly surprised by all the women's looks.

Niceties are exchanged between everyone. Then I pull the lass aside, the one who can't seem to keep her mouth shut, deciding she's an asset for me to have on my good side.

I ask, "Lass, what are your friends' names?"

I glance over at Lauren, who's obviously in charge. Her allegiance is to the O'Learys, and I know I should hate her, but nothing but adrenaline is bouncing through my veins. She's a looker, and everything about her makes this entire trip worth it. I just have to figure out how to get her alone.

The barmaid gives me an innocent smile. I assume she's only twenty-one, maybe twenty-two. Lauren can't be much older, but her confidence makes me question her age, and she's definitely in charge. For some reason, she's also extra cautious, but I can't say I blame her. The state of the pub is horrible, even though they've cleaned up.

Cracks splinter the mirror behind the bar. There's barely a stack of pint glasses left compared to what I assume used to be there. A bare area gives me the notion that a table's missing, and multiple others need more chairs around them.

It shouldn't surprise me. It makes sense that the O'Learys would destroy the place when the game was lost. We wouldn't stand for it in O'Connor pubs if it would have been our loss, but everything's different with the O'Learys.

And somehow, we lucked out that none of them are here. It makes everything feel like karma, fate, or whatever you want to call it.

Lauren warns, "Jessica, if you don't learn to keep that big mouth of yours shut, I swear to God—"

"Easy there," I interject.

Lauren spins on me.

"I asked her a question. Ya can't ignore your patrons, now can ya?" I slowly lower my eyes over her body once more, unable to stop myself from gawking. Her wavy, beautiful strawberry-blond hair is in a ponytail. She has blue eyes, which I'm a sucker for, and her legs... Jesus, they go for a mile. Her meaty thighs fill out her jeans to perfection. It's everything I like in a lass. All I can imagine is her squeezing her thighs around my head.

She snaps, "Ya want to keep your eyes up here?"

I chuckle and realize she's fierier than I originally anticipated. My cock hardens, and I tease, "Are ya sure you want me to?" I give her another lewd once-over.

Her cheeks burst into flames. She puts her hand on her hip, squints, and accuses, "Ya sure are cocky for a lad who's never been in here before." Mistrust fills her expression.

I stand straighter, declaring, "I'm not a lad, I'm a man. But maybe you've never had the chance to understand the difference." I wiggle my eyebrows.

Her blues widen further. It's not much, but I don't miss it. Then she swallows hard, and all I can think about is putting my hand around her neck and squeezing while I pound into her. My erection strains against my zipper, and I have to hold in my groan.

Fuck, I need to get her into bed.

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