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I shouldn’t be jealous that they’re bonding over trauma – of all bloody things – but I somewhat am.
Sure, we have plenty of shite in common like an interest in foreign TV shows, preference for custard over ice cream, and a strange love of fly fishing, but at times there’s such a divide in our narratives that it’s difficult to understand some of her choices – like mowing the lawn after she’s worked four twelve hour shifts rather than ask me to do it – just like it is for her to understand mine – like driving to Applecourt just to have Mangú with my mom on her day off. I know we’re different; however, it’s seeing her interact with someone who relates to her in ways I’m not sure I ever will that has me gulping back my pint to wash away the bitterness of envy.
“You want kids?” Uncle Rory casually asks her, reaching for the last onion ring.
“She already has one,” Dad teases with a point to me.
He’s shot a sarcastic grin as well as my middle finger.
“I’m open to it,” Harper announces in such a way it causes my cock to stir.
“You have to be when you’re shagging an O’Clery. You bloody drink after one of them in the fall and be having their baby by summer.” Colin lightly chuckles on a wink. “I’m gonna go smoke.” The devilish grin he grows while tossing his head towards the doors is one that I wish I were growing myself. “I’ll be back.”
The sight of our waiter telling the other server he’s going to take a momentary break convinces me to create a little naughty mischief of my own.
“I need to take a leak,” I initially announce to everyone prior to meeting Harper’s gaze. “You got the birthday boy good and pissed, so now you get to assist him to the restroom.”
“Lucky me,” she sassily states while needlessly helping me to my feet.
One arm is slung around her for drunken show, something she realizes the instant we round the corner for the facilities and my fingers lightly graze the top of her tit.
She giggles and squirms a tad yet bumps her body against mine like she wants me to have her right here.
Right now.
Bloody hell, if she’d let me, I’d shag her against the nearest wall without care to the consequence.
I mean there are other pubs we could go to in the future.
My lips lower themselves to brush against her ear as I sweetly whisper in Irish, “Is aoibheann liom mo ghrá thú.”
She lovingly coos in return, “I adore you, too, babe.”
This time my words are spoken in a darker, more possessive tone. “Ba mhaith liom leanbh a chur ionat.”
Her body turns to face me upon our arrival outside the single stall men’s room door and seeing her gaze grow hooded from the declaration I constantly make about knocking her up only stiffens my dick to the point of pain.
Fuck at this rate, the damn thing may never go down again.
“You know your Irish accent gets so much stronger around your family.”
“Wait until you see me around my Dominican side. My Spanish one gives the Irish a good run for its money.”
Harper steals a bite of my bottom lip, fingers lightly trailing down my chest, leaving me with no choice but to groan. “Is that so?”
“What can I say? My accent has a mind of its own.” Her touch feathers itself over my swollen shaft prompting my hips to rock into it. “Much like another head.” The feeling of her grip tightening has me grumbling in desperation, “Ligeann sé shag.”
She impishly denies the suggestion for fucking with a coy headshake. “Not until we get back to my place.”
Bloody hell, I can’t wait for that phrase to be “our place” or “our home”.
It cannot happen soon enough.
Two days in would’ve still been too late for me.
“So, you’re just gonna leave me like this?” I airily complain as my lower half shallowly thrusts into the agonizingly slow strokes while my palms rest themselves against the edge of the door frame. “Miserable?” She squeezes harder forcing my eyes to fall shut and head to drop forward. “On my bloody birthday?”
Harper’s hot breath lands against my lips at the same time her palm sneaks into my shorts. “I didn’t say that…”
