by Iris Morland
Definitely don’t tell him you just thought that.
“You American?” The man took a long drink of his beer.
“How can you all tell? I could be Canadian.”
“Are you?”
I stuck out my lower lip. “No,” I muttered into my beer, “I’m from the States.” I pointed a finger at the man and added, “But I made sure to leave my fanny pack at home, you know. And I’ve only asked if there was a Starbucks nearby once.”
“Liar.”
My eyebrows shot to my hairline.
“You’ve asked at least three times, I’m sure.”
I let out a startled laugh. Oh, he was charming, and that was dangerous. Grayson had been charming, too, but like a puppy is charming. This man? He was smooth and it was sexy as hell.
I wiped my damp palms on my jeans.
“Um, what’s your name? I’m Kate.” I thrust out my hand and hoped he didn’t feel how clammy it had been.
He took my hand and folded it in his. “Lochlann.” He took in my appearance, assessing me. “So what’s an American girl doing here, drinking alone? Bad night?”
“How could you tell?”
His gaze traveled from my face to my legs, sending a burst of heat through my veins. “You aren’t dressed to take a man home, for one, and until you looked over at my table, you didn’t notice a single man in this pub.”
“How observant of you. Or creepy.”
“I come to this pub every week, and I see a lot of women.” Lochlann held up a finger. “They’re here with girlfriends; they’re here alone, looking for a man; or they’re here with their man.”
“The amount of data you have on the women of this bar should freak me out, but I’m too lazy to do anything about it,” I said.
“Data is always useful, yes.”
“But I think you’re wrong about one thing. If you haven’t had enough of a sample set of my type of woman, how can you ascertain our real goal in coming here?”
Lochlann rubbed his chin. “The numbers have been limited, it’s true.”
“And isn’t your supposing I’m not here to find a man based solely on your biased opinion that women have to dress a certain way to attract a certain type of man?”
“Not a biased opinion on that front: the women who wear little in the way of clothing generally leave with a man. Or a few men.”
I rolled my eyes. “Well, you’re wrong about me. I came here specifically to find a man. But not one who cares about how I dress.” I was lying through my teeth. I’d dressed in my ratty jeans and sweatshirt and had worn my favorite pair of Converse because I hadn’t wanted to be bothered.
“And look, I caught your attention,” I said, smirking. “So you just disproved your own point.”
“Perhaps I meant to do that.”
I just laughed at him. Arrogant males weren’t exactly rare for me. I was used to them after spending the majority of my academic career in STEM. I’d been mansplained to so many times that I’d lost count ages ago.
“You sound like the guys I go to school with,” I said, shaking my head.
“Please don’t tell me you’re in high school.”
I batted my eyelashes at him. “I’m sorry, I’m only sixteen. Please treat me gently.”
He scowled at me. “You can’t buy booze here until you’re eighteen. If you’re going to lie, at least check your facts.”
“I’m just messing with you. You look so cute when you’re pissed.”
He considered me for such a long moment that I had to restrain myself from squirming. It was like he saw me as some rare species he’d never encountered before.
“You’re quite saucy, aren’t you?” he said.
“Is that a bad thing?”
“No, but I imagine that you tend to scare away any boys who try to approach you.”
“I’m going to take that as a compliment.”
“You should. You don’t need any boys in your life.”
I snorted. “Yet here you are, talking to me.”
His expression was completely serious now. “I’m not a boy. What you want is a man.”
Heat coiled inside my belly, and as Lochlann gazed at me, it was like my entire body was about to combust. I was also tempted to tell him he was wrong, wrong, wrong—boys loved me. I was the most popular girl with all the boys.
Except my one boyfriend, Grayson, had told me when we’d broken up that I intimidated him.
I feel like you’re always expecting more from me. It gets kind of exhausting, he’d said.
I hadn’t been all that sad that we’d ended our relationship, if I were being honest.
Lochlann leaned toward me. “I don’t think you were interested in any man here until you saw me, because you knew I was the perfect man for what you needed.”
I almost laughed at his arrogance, but he was completely serious. If only I had the confidence of a straight, white man. I could rule the world so easily.
“You’re the one who came over here,” I pointed out.
“You’re the one who eye-fucked me across the room.”
I pursed my lips because I didn’t have any response to that.
Lochlann chuckled, the sound making me want to fall into his arms like a swooning idiot. “Let’s cut to the chase, Kate: I want to fuck you. I think you want to be fucked. Do you have a place in mind where we could accomplish this?”
Redness spread across my cheeks. I’d never, in my life, been spoken to like that, and it was somehow the hottest thing I’d ever heard. Shouldn’t I be offended? Slap him for his audacity? Except I was practically creaming my underwear and about to tell him to fuck me over on the pool table.
If he knew I was a virgin, would he still want to sleep with me? Doubtful. Men didn’t have one-night stands with virgins. Although that data was based solely on…absolutely no facts whatsoever.
Lochlann didn’t seem perturbed that I hadn’t answered yet. He merely finished his beer and watched me closely.
“You don’t know anything about me,” I said finally.
“I know you’re beautiful.” He took my hand, intertwining our fingers. “I can see how red you are, how you blush when I lean toward you. Your pupils are dilated: classic response of sexual interest. I bet if I touched your pussy, you’d be soaking wet already.”
I yanked my hand from his. “You’re—oh my God!”
“Tell me I’m wrong.”
He wasn’t, but I wasn’t about to admit that. What a dickwad. I didn’t care how hot he was. He could enjoy his own hand tonight for all I cared.
“Now you’re upset,” he said obviously. “You shouldn’t be. This is all chemical. You already showed me you’re a smart girl. Don’t look at this with emotion. Look at it as an experiment.”
“Are you seriously proposing we bang to collect data points?”
His smile practically lit up this dingy pub. He chucked me under the chin and slid smoothly from his own stool. “Mostly just proving that animal attraction can happen quickly and should be enjoyed, if both parties are consenting and of age. We both know you aren’t sixteen, but I’d prefer not to have sex with a teenager all the same.”
When he slid his hand down my back, to rest right above my ass, the anticipation of him touching me elsewhere nearly made me scream.
“I’m twenty-six,” I lied. Why am I lying again? I must’ve wanted him to think I was more experienced than I was. Maybe twenty-two wasn’t much better than eighteen. Maybe I was just drunk and dumb.
The uh-oh voice in my head started squawking, but I ruthlessly told it to shut the hell up.
“I’m thirty-two,” he said.
“That’s cool.”
He smiled, waiting, stroking the small of my back.
“I have a hotel room,” I breathed finally.
“Excellent.”
“You can come with me to it, if you want.”
“I do want that.”
“Okay.”
I stared up at him, completely unable t
o move.
“You’ll either need to lead the way or tell me which hotel it is,” he said gently.
“The Crown. Just up the street.”
Lochlann’s expression flashed with something, but he just nodded. “Then let’s go.”
Chapter Seven
Lochlann
Still three months earlier
When I’d first seen Kate in that pub three months ago, I hadn’t intended on approaching her. Liam had recently got in touch with me to ask me to attend his wedding, and I’d been a bit overwhelmed with seeing family I’d not been around since we’d been kids.
Liam and I hadn’t seen each other since he’d been a short, skinny kid, while his sister had just been a baby. Now his sister was in college, a young woman, while Liam was marrying a gorgeous, intelligent woman. Lucky bastard.
That evening, I’d sat down at my usual table, nursing a beer, when I’d seen Kate enter the pub. I’d met Liam and Mari earlier that day, but I’d yet to meet the rest of the wedding party. It hadn’t occurred to me that Kate was Mari’s sister when I’d seen her. She didn’t look much like her: where Mari was red-haired and tall, but Kate was dark-haired and average height.
Kate came inside the pub, laughing at something on her phone, her hair in a braided bun on top of her head. She cooed at a patron’s dog that sat at his feet and stopped to have a conversation with Barry.
Definitely an American, I thought in amusement. Besides the fact that her accent gave her away, she had that intrinsic friendliness Americans tended to project. They’d talk to anyone if given half a chance.
I watched Kate, not knowing who she was, intrigued despite myself. It wasn’t as if there weren’t Americans in Dublin, but they didn’t usually visit pubs like these: watering holes that generally only the locals knew existed.
Kate finally sat down at the bar, speaking to the bartender. At this angle, I could see her profile: lightly tanned, with a pointed chin. She looked like some fae creature come to lead a man to her kingdom under a hill. Based on how many of the men in the pub were staring at her, she captivated men without much effort.
I hadn’t come to the pub for a woman. Truth be told, I hadn’t had sex in two years, not since Sophie had left me. I’d been knee-deep in research while working towards being accepted for a professor position in the States. Women hadn’t crossed my mind.
Well, not usually. There were nights when I’d longed for a warm body, a wet pussy, the smell of a woman’s perfume. Sometimes the loneliness got to a man. Your cat could only provide so much interaction, and jerking off with your hand could only satisfy you for so long.
The moment Kate’s gaze landed on mine, though, it was like an electric shock through my body. And she didn’t turn away, blushing. No, she drank me in with unabashed interest.
I want her, was the insane, immediate thought I had. And before my brain could take over, I let my intuition guide me. Or my cock. I didn’t particularly care which.
“I don’t usually do this,” said Kate, breathless as we approached her hotel. When I’d finally taken my gaze off of her, I realized it was the same hotel Liam was staying at. My heart skipped with a burst of anxiety. Was Kate a part of the wedding party?
Then again, what were the odds? The hotel was huge: ten floors, hundreds of rooms. Kate could be on a trip abroad, or studying at university for the summer.
Kate stared up at me, the streetlights illuminating her features. With her long lashes and upturned eyes, she looked like a cat.
I touched her pointed chin. “You don’t usually do what?”
“This.” She waved a hand at me.
“You mean take random men up to your hotel room for a good shag?”
She blushed. “Yes. I mean, no. I don’t.” She seemed like she was going to say something else, but then shut her mouth.
Was she getting cold feet? If she told me to go, I would, despite my raging erection. I wasn’t about to coerce a woman into sex.
“Do you want me to leave?” I offered, caressing her jaw.
She shook her head. “I’m good. Come on.” Grabbing my hand, she practically dragged me inside, which made me bite back a startled laugh. It wasn’t as if I was the one who needed to be persuaded.
When we arrived at Kate’s door, she kept looking around, as if somebody were going to pop out of a nearby room and chastise her. Was she here with her parents? No, she was twenty-six. She was more than old enough to travel alone.
Kate’s hand was shaking as she inserted the key card and pulled it out too quickly. She kept getting the red light, and when she growled in frustration I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Here, let me.” I took the card from her and, in one swipe, got the door to unlock.
“Show-off,” she muttered.
Kate rushed to the bed and began to toss clothes into a nearby dresser. Looking around, she had stuff everywhere: books on the desk, snacks on the nightstand, and I was pretty sure she was trying to hide her pile of dirty laundry. I had to chew on my cheek when she stuffed a pair of knickers inside a t-shirt, as if it were improper for the man she wanted to sleep with to see what she wore under her clothes.
“Sorry it’s such a mess,” she said, kicking something under the bed. “I wasn’t expecting visitors.”
“You really aren’t very good at this.”
She whirled on me, scowling. “I didn’t have time to read the One-Night Stand Handbook, okay?”
Kate kept organizing papers, like I’d lose my erection if she didn’t tidy up. It was adorable. I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her against me.
“Let’s leave that,” I rumbled, kissing her neck.
She shuddered. I could tell she was nervous, and I wanted to make her melt, to stop her busy mind from coming up with reasons why this was a bad idea.
I kissed up to her ear, nibbling on the lobe at the same time I pushed her sweatshirt up to cup one of her breasts through her t-shirt. Her breathing quickened: a good sign. But she was still too tense. I wanted her languid. I wanted her open, and receptive, and dripping wet.
We had all night, and I intended to make it count.
Despite my failed relationship with Sophie, I’d always enjoyed giving a woman pleasure first. Making her moan, making her come, whether that was with my fingers, my mouth, or my cock. Sophie had always loved it when I’d licked her pussy with light strokes until she’d orgasm.
“What makes you come?” I said in Kate’s ear. “What do you like?”
“Um.” She wiggled when I rolled her nipple between my thumb and index finger. “I like what you’re doing now.”
Considering she was pressing her arse against my erection and not skittering away like a scared rabbit, I already knew that bit of information.
How innocent was she? She seemed so awkward and innocent that I could’ve almost believed she was a virgin, but she was twenty-six. I’d never known anyone who’d stayed a virgin beyond twenty, maybe twenty-two.
I slipped her out of her sweatshirt and turned her around, kissing her hard. She moaned, and when she ran her fingers through my hair, I deepened the kiss.
I slid my tongue inside her mouth. A moment later she tentatively responded, but soon that hesitation melted away.
Before I knew it, Kate was practically climbing up my body like an overstimulated squirrel. I laughed against her lips.
“We have all night,” I said, breaking the kiss.
“I feel like I’ve been waiting forever.”
Why did I get that same feeling for a woman I’d only just met? As if afraid of my own emotions, I turned her around so I couldn’t see her face. I stripped her of her t-shirt and unhooked her bra, sucking on the side of her neck as I pulled on her nipples. She moaned and arched against me.
Blood pooled in my already hardened cock. Stepping back, I took in the curve of her spine, the pale skin of her lower back, the smattering of freckles on her shoulder blades. I could make out a faint tan line from her bathing suit.
“Tu
rn around,” I said.
Kate had put her hands over her breasts, but as she turned she took them down. Her tits were small but perky, the nipples puffy.
“Get on the bed.” I began to undress myself.
“Why do you sound like you’re going to tie me up and whip me?”
I chuckled. “Do I look like the kind of guy who carries around a whip with him?”
“Dunno. You could be packing something extra in those pants for all I know.” She arched an eyebrow.
I took her hands, pressing them to my cock. “Does that seem like I’m carrying something extra?”
“No. It doesn’t.”
“Get on the bed, Kate.”
She got on the bed. I almost ripped my clothes in my haste to get them off. Soon I was down to my pants, Kate having stripped out of her jeans to show off her knickers. Knickers that had some cartoon characters all over them.
“Oh my God.” She groaned as she realized what was she wearing. “I’d totally forgotten I’d worn these today.”
I pulled at the wide elastic band. “They’re charming. What even are they, though?”
She looked at me in surprise. “They’re Rick and Morty.” When I gave her a blank look, she added, “From the show, Rick and Morty?”
“Sorry, never heard of it.”
She sighed deeply, clearly disappointed in my lack of interest in recent animated programs. “That is so sad. It’s only the best cartoon ever,” she said.
“I’ll take that under advisement,” I said as seriously as I could.
She then wrinkled her nose. “But if I’d known this was going to happen I would’ve worn a thong. Or nothing at all.” She sighed, collapsing back onto the bed. “Now you’re going to remember me as the girl wearing Rick and Morty underpants.”
“You know there’s a solution to this problem, right?”
She looked up at me hopefully.
I hooked my fingers in the waistband and subsequently yanked them down her legs, tossing the offending knickers into some dark corner of the hotel room.
“There. Rick and Morty have been defeated,” I said proudly.