“About time! You are a bear to get up in the morning.” She didn’t appear to mind since she was grinning. “I love learning new things about you, babe,” she teased.
Patrick finally noticed River was dressed, and her hair was damp. “Hey, why didn’t you invite me to shower?” That thought made his dick twitch.
“Umm, well, let me see,” she stopped to grab a pillow and hit him with it, “I did! You stuck your head under the blankets.” She smirked, adding, “Such a shame too. Raven told me some of the things she’s done to Bran in the shower. I wonder if you would have liked them,” she sighed and shrugged her shoulders. “Like I said, such a shame.”
She was about to slide off the bed, but Patrick was faster and snagged her by the waist, flipping her to her back, his knees pressed tight against her outer thighs. Her surprised squeal turned into a moan once he leaned close, dragging his lips up the side of her neck, sucking and licking until reaching her lips.
“First, can you never,everdiscuss your sister and sex with my brother when I’m in bed naked and hard for you? A small courtesy. Second, I think you need another shower,” he whispered against her lips.
River chuckled before she deepened the kiss, her hands clasped his head close as they devoured one another. Her nails scratched across the shaved side.
Breaking the kiss, she breathlessly explained that Raven texted and said they needed to be at the main house in twenty minutes— less now. “Rain check?” She grinned.
Patrick’s answer was to climb off her and yank her yoga pants clear off— panties followed. “I’m packed, and I only need five minutes to shower and dress, five minutes to load the truck, and three minutes to get to Dad’s. Which means, babe,” grinning, he finished while stripping the rest of her clothes, “we’re having a quickie.”
“You? A quickie?” She asked doubtfully.
Patrick lifted her bottom off the bed and slid his length in fully.
“Pat, God!”
“That’s right, River,” Patrick said before driving into her body once again, “you’re going to feel me inside you during the entire flight.” As she arched her hips into his, he heard her murmur, “I’ll always feel you.”
Pressing one palm against her most sensitive flesh, Patrick leaned forward, trapping his hand between their bodies while his other palm rested by her head on the pillow, their bodies tight, friction creating fire with each thrust.
“Now, babe. I need you to come with me now,” Patrick demanded. Their bodies stilled, tightening, until spasms dragged moans from them both.
“I love you, Patrick,” River panted, trying to catch her breath.
“I love you more.” With a light kiss, Pat sat up and announced he had to shower or suffer the wrath of Hugh. “But you, River, aren’t showering again.” Bending toward her mouth once more, he whispered against her lips, “You’re going to feel me soaking your panties for hours.”
9
As it turned out, most of the pictures of Patrick O’Faolain in the garden at Wolves were too racy for the newspaper’s social edition, so he didn’t add those. Sam did send several to the paper’s editor that showed Patrick looking down at the woman before they stepped outside. He also made sure to send pictures from the whole evening so the paper would believe he’d been hired by Wolves to promote the opening.
The really good ones— of the rando brunette straddling the youngest O’Faolain’s lap, kissing and dry humping their little hearts out— went to an Oklahoma blogger with an impressive following,SocialOK. The blog’s writer thrived on scandal and gossip. Right about now, she was probably orgasming over the winning lottery ticket he’d sent her.
Of course, Sam had to send the file under a fake name and photography business. Smiling at how clever he was, he only asked that she give his business credit since it was new and needed exposure. As soon as he knew the photos were live, Sam would erase the email and shut down his little webpage,Event Photography, so that nothing could be traced back to him.
Sam admitted to the thrill he had felt at the bar. He’d walked around in his ugly dress and gaudy slippers, big wig, thin eyebrows, and garish red lips, rubbing occasional elbows with every person he planned on ruining.
So much for O’Connor’s security— the behemoth spent more time drooling over his charge than potential threats.
He wished they knew how close he had got to them.
How much closer he planned on getting.
Sam had had plenty of time before the bar’s patrons started rolling in. After he’d scouted the rooms at Wolves, he’d spent considerable time working out the logistics of getting to Ireland undetected. His plan was brilliant. The lovely little hostess had given him the idea. He would go as a man dressed as a woman. He would make it obvious. People may look— but they would not study him. How rude would that be?
Smiling in the dark, Sam peacefully drifted off to sleep. So many fun things to look forward to tomorrow.
Happy New Year...
10
Patrick felt his ears burning. One of the guards was driving the six of them to the airport in Dad’s new Jeep Wagoneer. The sisters all sat in the backseat. Whispering. An occasional gasp, ‘no way,’ and ‘damn’ peppered the whispers. Thank God his dad was in the front seat talking to Charlie, or he’d never live down his blush.
“Hey, Dad, could you turn the Weather Channel on?” Anything to cover River discussing their sex life. Without answering, he did as Pat asked. Thank God. Snow predictions were a vast improvement to the disgusting thought of the girls comparing him to his brother. Christ, sisters were... something.
