Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

FINNIGAN

Sitting at a table in the club’s lounge, I share a bottle of Jameson with my brothers. Well, Liam and Conor. Declan is stuck in traffic somewhere between his home in New Rochelle and here, and Tristan snuck off a while ago for an exhibitionistic fuck in one of the semi-private rooms with Layla.

Floral perfume floods my nostrils as a set of delicate feminine arms drape over me from behind. Loosely encircling my neck, a beautiful middle-aged brunette rounds my chair. The slit of her black silk dress parts as she takes a seat on my leg, revealing her well-toned thigh clear to where it creases at her hip. “It’s Finnigan, right?”

“Finn,” I correct her.

“Brooke. My husband, Carl, and I have watched you a few times from the hall. He’s dying to watch me get fucked by a hot bull with a huge cock that will stretch me out. We both keep thinking that you’d be perfect. So, room six.” She slips a key card into my shirt pocket, and her lips brush against the shell of my ear as a sultry voice whispers into it. “I love how hard you fuck. I’m hoping you mark me so much that he has to remember you ruining my pussy for him with every bruising bite I wear for the next week.”

Fucking cucks…

“Right in your fucking lap,” Conor mutters under his breath, his eyes roaming over the very eager and very forward woman draped across my lap.

Lightly holding her arm against my chest, I reach into the pocket of my shirt to retrieve the black-and-gold Triskelion card she slipped into it. “Sorry, sweetheart. You are beautiful, and I’m flattered, but I have other plans tonight,” I decline the overt offer of destroying her pussy. Liam and Conor watch with inquisitive expressions as I slip the keycard back between her well-manicured fingers.

“I don’t have other plans, Brooke,” Conor chimes with a broad smile as I help her from my lap.

“Too bad you have a tiny cock,” Liam jests, laughing as he playfully elbows him.

“Li, what the fuck?” Conor huffs as the woman saunters away from the three of us. Undoing his trousers to whip his cock out and prove the size of his manhood, he snarls, “A tiny fucking cock?”

Finally arriving and sitting at our table as Conor reaches into his trousers, Declan barks, “We’ve all seen your bejeweled anaconda, Conor. Keep it in your trousers.”

Returning without Tristan and finding all the seats taken, Layla slips onto Conor’s lap. “I’ll vouch for you, big guy,” she offers with a wink.

“Thank you.” He slips his arm around her hip and pulls her up his thigh until she’s firmly wedged against him.

“It’s definitely at least adequate,” she snarks.

Squeezing her tightly, he growls, “You’re such a fucking brat.”

“You fucking love it.” She places a playful kiss on his cheek before grabbing his glass and taking a sip of whiskey.

And Declan gives me shit about trying to fuck his wife.

Rejoining the table, Tristan sets three ice-filled whiskey glasses on it. He grabs a chair from a nearby table and takes a seat, cocking a brow at Layla and Conor immediately beside him.

“Sorry, brother. She’s my girl now,” Conor teases with a devilish smirk as he places a wet kiss against Layla’s lips.

“You might want to know that,”—he air quotes—“ your girl had her lips firmly wrapped around my cock about five minutes ago.” Tristan laughs as a disgusted grimace scrunches Conor’s face.

“You know what happens when you’re a little brat.” Tristan drags Layla from Conor’s lap and onto his own. Pulling her tightly against him and nipping her neck, he whispers what we all know is a warning of a correction to come in her ear. Turning his attention to the rest of us, he asks, “Besides my brother trying to steal my wife, what did I miss?”

“We are all just talking about Conor’s tiny cock,” I quip before throwing my head back and laughing.

“I’m not interested in Conor’s tiny cock,” Liam smirks. “I’m more interested in you. I have never seen you turn hot fucking pussy away. Especially when it’s practically dripping on your lap.”

“Wait? What” Tristan’s eyes snap to me. “Finn did what?”

Refilling his glass, Liam responds, “You fucking heard me.”

“A tall, brunette hot-wife, with perfect tits and an even better ass, basically begging to get thoroughly fucked and marked in front of her husband,” Conor fills in the details. “And he passed because he had other plans .”

“It was much more polite than saying I wasn’t interested.” I shrug, trying to play it off. Looking around the table, no one is buying my bullshit. Least of all Declan, who is currently staring at me with furrowed brows and a clenched jaw.

“Spill it, Finn,” Liam demands. “You’re always fucking interested.”

“Fuck.” I eye Tristan and Declan. “Is this what it’s like being on the receiving end of everyone needing to know what you are or aren’t doing with your cock?”

“Yes,” Dec snarls. “Now, fess up.”

“It’s not a big deal,” I insist. “I told her I wouldn’t until she was ready.”

All of them asking the same question, the table choruses, “Her?”

“Will you ever fucking listen, Finnnigan,” Declan snarls. “How hard would it have been to stay away from Father O’Flaherty’s niece?”

After last night? Fucking impossible.

“No sex?” Conor scoffs. “You won’t make it one fucking week.”

“Let me get this straight,” Liam clarifies. “You’re giving up sex so that you can take that tight little blonde virgin for a ride?”

“Don’t fucking talk about her like that.” Shoving my chair from the table, my voice thunders over the patrons in the lounge, and the room momentarily goes silent. It takes a second for the crowd to return their conversations, but my family—with various looks of bewilderment--stares at my angered face in silence.

Yeah… I’m so fucked.