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Shock registers across her face. “Y-yes, Mr. McDermott. I–I’ll be right back with your drinks.” She gives a faint smile before sprinting across the dance floor in the direction she came.
“Don’t forget the salt and limes!” I yell as she runs away. Mac’s got tears running down his face he’s laughing so hard.
Mac wheezes as he tries to regain his composure. “God, I love you. I don’t know whether to be impressed or turned the fuck on.”
“That was hot as hell, Angel,” Finn agrees as he wraps his arm around me, pulling me tight against his side.
“Well, I mean, come on. How dense do you have to be? I’m sitting right here.”
“Jealous, Baby?”
Lifting it under the table, I run my foot along the inside of Ronan’s leg. “Not jealous. Just . . .” I stretch my long leg out until the toe of my heel grazes the tip of his half-hard dick. His large hand instantly clamps down around my ankle, and I watch his baby blues darken. “Showing her what’s mine.”
Perfectly in sync, they all let out a low growl. Ronan’s thumb rubs along the strap of my heel, still resting in his lap, as Finn drops his head, his lips grazing the skin on my neck just below my ear, all while my eyes stay firmly locked on Mac’s, which are hooded with desire. Finn presses his lips against my neck, and I lean into his touch. “We’re all yours, Angel. Only yours.”
Yeah, this is going to be a good night.
26
Finn
Harper’s been on the dance floor with Mac for the last thirty minutes, and my eyes haven’t strayed from her once. She’s well-beyond tipsy after downing her tequila shot and several glasses of rosé. Her face is flushed from dancing and alcohol, and she seems utterly free of any inhibitions.
“Focus” by H.E.R. is playing through the speakers, and couples are all but fucking across the dance floor, Mac and Harper included. Harper’s back is plastered against Mac as she grinds her ass against him, her hips swaying in perfect rhythm with the sultry music. Mac’s hands roam her body, and I watch as he periodically runs his tongue along the column of her neck.
And that dress—fuck me—that dress.
When I ordered it, I knew it would look drop-dead gorgeous on her, but I had no idea how much so. When she walked out of her bedroom, I swear my heart felt like it fell out of my asshole. I had my mouth on hers in two seconds flat, not giving a single flying fuck about her lipstick on my face.
Mac must say something funny because Harper tips her head back, and her mouth falls open in a laugh, her face radiating happiness. As much as I was worried about bringing her here after everything that’s happened, I know we made the right decision.
She’s happy.
Right now, she’s not afraid or anxious about what’s to come. She’s just . . . happy. That’s all I want for her.
Not to mention, watching her on the dance floor in that dress and those heels is an added bonus. I don’t even care that I’m watching her pressed against Mac. I think we’re well past caring about that, actually.
As much as I loved having her pussy soak my face this morning in the shower, I’m really starting to regret my little deal with Ronan. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to be inside of her as badly as I do right now.
“Bet you’re pretty pissed at yourself now, aren’t ya, Finny?” Ronan’s shit-eating grin is a mile wide as he brings his glass to his lips.
“Shut the fuck up, Ronan.” He’s right, though. I am mildly annoyed at myself.
“Well done on the dress, by the way,” he says as he licks his lips. He’s been sitting at the booth with me while Mac and Harper are on the dance floor. Neither of us is much into dancing. However, he seems just as content as I am to stare at her from here.
“Our girl looks good, doesn’t she?”
“Not good. Perfect. Absolutely fucking perfect.” My eyes leave Harper’s for the first time tonight to look at my best friend. If I didn’t know it already, his face right now would give it away. He’s so deeply in love with that woman it isn’t even funny.
Hell, we all are.
“Yeah, she is.”
Downing the rest of my drink, I slide out of the booth,.“As much as I’m enjoying watching, I’m going to go dance.”
He raises a brow in question. “Since when do you dance?”
“I don’t. But if you’re going to be a stingy asshole once we leave this club—”
