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“Relax, Paddy,” Seamus calls out as they trail me in. How the fuck am I supposed to relax? My woman is right where she isn’t supposed to be.
I flip him off and stalk into the club, my eyes darting around the place. Lauren isn’t in the main bar, and when I get into the private bar, I almost sag with relief that she’s not here either.
“This way.” Seamus claps me on the shoulder, smirking, and opens the door to the back area and his office.
Niall and Ronan are lounging against the wall outside, though they jerk upright when they spot us.
“They’re in there.” Ronan jabs his thumb over his shoulder at the door of Seamus’s office. Seamus growls back at him.
“But you’re not.”
Talk about stating the fucking obvious. Ronan tips his head at the piece of paper stuck to the door with a handwritten note scrawled on it in large letters.
“I lack the requisite equipment.” he shrugs.
Seamus’s eyebrows shoot up, and he snorts as he reads the sign.
“And so you do, Ronan.”
I move so I can see what it says.No vagina, no entry. Because while the sign might mean something to Niall and Ronan, it means absolutely nothing to him, Seamus reaches over, shoving open the door. We all peek in, blinking, frozen like five statues at the sight in front of us.
They’re drunk. Well, not Tiggy – she’s pregnant – but the others? Three sheets to the wind.
Lauren is seated on a chair in the middle of the room, her fingers pressed to her mouth as she giggles. Ronan’s little blonde stripper stands behind her, talking the little brunette bartender through a lap dancing lesson, while Tiggy watches from Seamus’s chair behind the desk.
The bartender is wearing a short skirt, and she’s topless. They’re all giggling like children, four sets of eyes turning to us and widening as they freeze like someone pressed pause on the telly.
There’s silence for a long beat until a bone-chilling growl rumbles out of Niall as his eyes darken and he drinks in the sight of the bartender’s tits.
The growl tells me the rest of us should immediately avert our eyes. Niall stalks into the room, snatching off his T-shirt, tugging it over her to cover her up. He grabs her, shoving her against the office wall, pinning her with his hips, his eyes locked on hers.
“Time to go.” Tiggy is out of her chair, herding the other two women before her as she walks toward us. As Tiggy snaps the door shut behind them, a moan and a growl sound out as Niall thrusts into the bartender.
“Jaysus feck, let’s get ye home,leannán.” Ronan is trying to wrangle his little blonde stripper, but she’s having none of it.
“I’m not your sweetheart,” she snaps back at him, trying to shrug him off while not stumbling since she’s blind drunk.
“Oh,” Lauren gasps, her wide eyes darting between the stripper and me. “Isthatwhat that means? I was wondering.”
She’s been wondering whatleannánmeans? Now she knows, what is she thinking? I watch her with inscrutable eyes as emotions war for dominance on her face. Finally, Lauren shrugs, her face a blank mask.
“I prefer ‘lass’.”
My stomach twists. She doesn’t like me calling herleannán? What the fuck not? Connor snorts behind me, Seamus’s hand snapping out and smacking his cousin upside the head.
“Well then,lass.” Lauren’s eyes snap to mine, and she flinches at the quiet fury in my tone. “Maybe ye’d care to explain why ye’re here and not athomewhere ye’re supposed to be?”
Tiggy grins, whispering something to the stripper, who waggles her eyebrows at us, but I ignore them both. They’re Seamus and Ronan’s problems.
Lauren backs away slowly from me, her eyes flashing as I stalk after her. Where the fuck is she going now? I’m going to catch her, and I’m going to make her come until she can’t remember her own fucking name.ThenI will find out why she doesn’t like me calling herleannán.
She makes it to the dressing room when I catch her, strippers in various states of undress looking over at us in interest.
“Everyone, get the fuck out!” I snap at them. There’s a rustling as robes are grabbed, and girls hustle out of the room. Lauren’s eyes widen as she watches me, darting down to my clenched fists. Stepping right up into her space, I fist a hand in her hair, tugging her head back until her huge, amber eyes meet mine. My thumb drags across her lower lip roughly as I groan.
“I need to be buried between yer legs, lass,” I growl at her, dropping to my knees in front of her.
She stares down at me in surprise, but I need to taste her before I do something stupid like kiss the fuck out of her. She’s wearing her sexy little sundress, thank fuck.
