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I kissed her lips, slowly and deliberately. “Don’t you forget it.”
Chapter Two
Four Weeks Earlier
Callum
“You look tired there, mate.” Seamus McCartney brushed the crumbs from his strawberry blond mustache and slid the pint of Guinness over toward me as I sat down at the other side of the bar.
I sighed and stretched my aching arm over my head. I’d slept wrong on my right shoulder, and the damn Donelson deal falling through hadn’t made my day any easier. The Guinness was a welcome distraction as the dark amber liquid worked its way down my throat, the bitterness tripping over my tongue.
“I’m having a bit of a headache, mate.”
If Seamus noticed the frustration and general annoyance in my voice, he didn’t seem to respond. That shite-eating grin was still stretched over his face, and he continued to lightly kick one foot against the side of the bar; I could hear the wood rattle with every hit. We’d been friends going back to primary school, but I’d also felt us drifting lately. It could be that we were working for different companies and in direct competition with each other. Then again, it might be because, deep down, there was an edge to Seamus I never quite trusted. If we were just grabbing pints to chuckle over, I could ignore the edge. When my day was already shot, it was a fuck ton harder to ignore how he grated on me.
I guess we all had one of those friends, the one most likely to be voted off the island first…but we still put up with in the meantime.
That was Seamus McCartney for me.
And so help me Mother Mary, if he didn’t stop grinning like a loon at me, I was going to dump my pint of frosty brew over his head.
“Don’t be such a lout,” Seamus said. “You look like someone killed your dog.”
“No one did that, but someone did kill the biggest deal so far this year. I worked for weeks sweet talking Donelson.”
Seamus smirked. “Should have worked that much harder, Cal.”
I groaned and finished my mug. “You didn’t.”
“You didn’t have a claim on the holdings. If McCartney Real Estate Ventures waited for an engraved invitation on every deal, we wouldn’t be the second largest firm in Dublin.”
Rolling my eyes, I signaled for the barkeep to bring me another pint. I was going to need it. “Then don’t forget who’s first.”
“For how long?” Seamus smirked at me. “Don’t be like that, mate. Besides, the refreshments are on me. I figured I owed you that much.”
Oh, he owed me a whole lot more.
“And I suppose your lead had nothing to do with a bit of banter we had last weekend at the VIP room at Hooligan’s?”
Seamus shrugged. “Whatever you say to impress the woman you’re trying to rut with isn’t my problem. Taking advantage of it, however, that’s my pleasure.”
“I’ll remember to be more close-lipped next time.”
He laughed and patted my shoulder. “That’s the way of it, Cal. Admit it. With me around, you’ll stay on your toes.”
“If not out of the poor house.”
“You’ll get the next contract, and then I’ll be blaming ya. However, now that you mentioned Hooligan’s, I have been thinking.”
“I don’t know if I’m in the mood for a VIP experience tonight. I don’t feel like celebrating when I lose a pile of money.”
Seamus snorted. “Don’t be melodramatic. I wasn’t thinking about that. I heard of this club downtown, very secretive, the whole mess. Anyway, I’ve been wanting to try it. They say that the lasses there will do anything, if you catch my drift.”
I quirked my head at him. To be honest, my tastes ran vanilla. I loved women, don’t get me wrong, but I didn’t need extremes to get off. Once in a while, I’d find myself in a threesome with a couple of hot models or minor-ranking heiresses. Occasionally, there might be a bit of a blindfold and fuzzy handcuffs, novelty crap. However, I wasn’t into anything hardcore. That trend had spiked in recent years as money poured in and blokes got bored of getting whatever woman they wanted. They needed a challenge—something different—just to get excited. If that was what made other people happy, great, but I was no great shakes at bondage. If that was what Seamus was hinting at, I wasn’t feeling it.
“Meaning?”
Seamus rolled his eyes. “Meaning that they do all the naughty shit. Say it with me: BDSM. Wouldn’t some of that spice up your life, cure what ails ya?”
