All Our Luck: Complete Irish Reverse Harem Series

by Roxanne Riley

  I shoot him an icy glare and tension bristles between us.

  Delia giggles, defusing the moment. “Oh, I have a feeling I’m gonna be seeing a lot of you two,” she says, agreeing with Keenan.

  She swipes a napkin off the table and a pen from her pocket and scribbles something down. “In fact, if y’all need any help with anything, here’s my number. Something tells me there will be a lot of questions.”

  I quickly move to take the napkin from her. “Thank you. I’ll definitely call you.”

  The tension returns, I can practically feel Keenan trying to glare a hole through my back.

  “I’m sure we both will,” he says.

  Chapter Two

  Delia

  It was strange, being in Molly’s house without Molly. The lack of her cheerful, boisterous presence almost makes the house feel too big. She was a sweet woman, and I’d enjoyed her company for years. But her gorgeous nephews definitely share some of her charm and fill the hole she left behind.

  They’re both dangerously attractive, with dark hair and piercing blue eyes, and they’re both flirty to boot. And I’d be lying if I said the thick lilt of their Irish accents didn’t turn me on immensely. Plus, they insisted on cooking and cleaning up. That alone is enough to make any woman swoon, right?

  But I can definitely sense an undercurrent of jealousy, and I can practically smell the testosterone as they each flirt with me, trying to one-up the other. Making a move on one of them would inevitably cause a fight.

  And I’m not some chew toy for a game of tug-of war, either. Attractive as I find them both, I’m far from inclined to go after either of them if they’re going to act like I’m some prize to win.

  I’ve had enough crappy luck with my love life. My last boyfriend had been cheating slime, and since then, I haven’t really done any dating. I don’t need the stress.

  Not that it doesn’t get a little lonely, like I said. I’m only human, after all. But I like my life, I like my independence, and I have no desire to have that impeded on just to end up crushed in the end.

  Maybe my poor luck in love has made me a little bitter. My best friend, Lucy, teases me often about becoming a spinster.

  But it’s worth it to keep my heart intact and continue living my life without answering to anyone else. Although that doesn’t stop me from wondering what Keenan and Rowan look like naked.

  The thought sends heat spiking between my legs and I jump up, “Well, gentlemen, this has been a lovely evening, but I’d best be gettin’ home. First lesson, the animals wake up early, and they want you to do so, too,” I laugh.

  “I can walk you home, lass,” Keenan offers, springing to his feet.

  “Or I can,” Rowan says, getting up as well.

  I wave them both off.

  “Oh, please, it’s a few hundred feet, I can manage on my own. I’m a big girl, I promise.”

  They both look a little disappointed, but they insist on walking me to the door. There’s a brief, awkward moment as they both linger close as they say good night.

  “Y’all rest up, now,” I tell them, slipping out the door. “You’re in for a long day tomorrow.”

  I bid them goodbye and begin my trek across the field to my own place. The mental images of their naked bodies flash through my mind again and I try to shake off the thought as I walk in the door, but it lingers in my brain. I can practically feel their hands on me as my imagination runs wild.

  Their lips, their tongues, and those blessed Irish hands run wild in my fantasy. I can feel heat flooding my panties and my breath speed up. But I’m interrupted when I’m suddenly tackled by my dog. I laugh and kneel down to give the little collie an affectionate scratch.

  “You like that, Mayhem? Who’s my good girl?”

  Her real name is Maybelle, but ever since she was a hyper puppy harassing the chickens, the nickname Mayhem just stuck.

  She’s a great herding dog, and a loyal buddy. She’s definitely a lot of the reason I’m so rarely lonely. I’ve always got someone to snuggle if I need to.

  I dump some food into her bowl and give her a pat on the head before heading to my bedroom. My mind wanders again and I end up thinking about the Donoghue brothers again. Maybe I should have made a move on one of them, stopped their bickering.

  But I wouldn’t know where to begin, choosing between them. They’re both sexy as hell, charming, and funny. My mind flits to an image of myself between the two of them, and I’m shocked to find that the image sends a thrill through me.

  I shake my head, as if trying to clear my brain like an Etch-a-Sketch. I’m ashamed to have even had the thought. That’s a crazy idea, right?

  It feels crazy, but it turns me on. I close my bedroom door and shuck off my clothes. Nothing wrong with thinking about it, right? I retrieve my vibrator from its place tucked in the bottom of a dresser drawer and slip between my sheets.

  I press the button and the little device springs to life, buzzing away cheerfully, and I slip it between my thighs.

  In my head, Rowan and Keenan are taking turns kissing me, and when their lips aren’t claiming my mouth, they’re exploring my neck, collarbone, and slowly dipping lower. Fantasy Rowan flicks his tongue over my nipple and I gasp, my fingers venturing to touch the same spot in the real world.

  The fantasy brothers push me down onto their bed and Rowan continues his onslaught on my breasts while Keenan kneels between my thighs. As I run the vibrator over my clit, I imagine Keenan’s tongue brushing the sensitive nub and sending sparks of pleasure shooting through me.

  My back arches and in my mind, I press into Rowan’s mouth, squirming under the pleasurable torment. I slowly slide the vibrator into my aching pussy with a moan, imagining Keenan’s fingers in its place.

  Fantasy Rowan continues to tease and torture my nipples, while my own fingers play over the pebbled flesh in reality. Keenan’s imaginary fingers pump in and out of my pussy, slow at first, then gradually moving faster and faster until I’m panting and gasping, writhing in pure pleasure.

  My climax knocks the wind from me, sending me spiraling into oblivion. Temporarily sated, I struggle to my feet and pad into the bathroom to clean up. I force any lingering images of Rowan and Keenan from my mind, knowing that I need to get to sleep eventually, and if I don’t stop thinking about hot Irish guys, I’ll be hot and bothered all night.

  As I’m standing under the pounding water and letting the heat melt soreness from my muscles, I realize it’s been years since the last time I had an orgasm that didn’t require batteries. And even when I was in a situation where I had someone else to assist, it wasn’t spectacular.

  I’ve never felt truly fulfilled, sexually, which might be yet another reason I have no particular issue with being single. Yes, an orgasm is always better when someone else makes it happen, but at least in my experience, those are few and far between.

  I always wanted to experiment, try new things in bed, but it seemed that no matter how “adventurous” a guy claimed to be, once he fell into a routine, all he wanted was the same old thing, and I’d be left unsatisfied.

  Nope. Not worth the trouble. Not with my luck.

  Chapter Three

  Keenan

  After Delia leaves, the two of us are cleaning up the kitchen for a while in stony silence. All I can think about is that gorgeous woman and how I can make her mine. But clearly, Rowan is determined to stake his claim as well.

  I know I could win this and take her for myself, but it worries me. Rowan and I have been close all our lives, and fortunately, haven’t run into this situation before. Hell, I’m surprised Delia’s even his type. Normally his type seems to run more along the lines of “blonde and brainless.”

  But I suppose there’s something so alluring about Delia that he can’t resist her. I know I can’t. All I can think about is taking that girl for a roll in the hay, perhaps literally.

  Finally finished, Rowan drapes his dishrag over the faucet and turns to me.

  “I think I’
m going to ask her out tomorrow,” he says. “I have to have her.”

  The edges of my vision blur and I clench my fist, containing my jealous rage. I resist the overwhelming urge to tell him to go fuck himself, that Delia wants me, but I stop myself.

  “Well, I’m going to get to bed,” he says, after I don’t respond to what he had just said about Delia. “Good night.”

  “Night,” I grit out.

  He leaves the room and I let out a sigh. I pour myself a glass of whiskey, sitting on the couch and staring off into space, thinking. As I sip the drink, I think about what to do. I can’t let Rowan steal Delia away from me, but am I really going to let this tear my brother and me apart?

  Delia’s face flits through my mind again and I sigh. I’ve never felt such a strong pull towards a woman before, both physical and emotional. She’s smart and funny, and fiercely independent. Put all of those qualities on the sexiest woman I’ve ever laid eyes on?

  Yeah. I have to have her.

  Maybe I should just get to her first. I’m positive that I can charm her enough that she’ll make the first move on me. And if that happens, it’s not like Rowan can blame me. Right?

  It feels like the perfect solution. Feeling satisfied, I down the last of my whiskey and head up to bed. When I flop down on the mattress, I don’t think I’m awake another ten seconds.

  The next morning, however, I drag my carcass out of bed at the crack of dawn to go care for the animals. Rowan continues to snore away in bed, to my annoyance.

  That annoyance evaporates, however, when I look across the lot and see Delia out and about as well, taking care of her herd in the morning breeze. I can’t resist a smug little smirk, realizing that this could be just the opportunity I need.

  I saunter across. “Morning, lass!”

  She looks up from her task and her face lights up.

  “Morning, Keenan. Looks like you’ve jumped right into things.” She sounds pleased.

  I shrug nonchalantly. “When I take something on, I do it to the fullest.”

  “I like that,” she says. “This farm life ain’t for everyone, but it’s nice to see you giving it a real try and working hard. And while the suit was pretty nice, I think I like you in jeans,” she winks.

  I grin. Bet you’d like me even better out of them, beautiful, I think.

  “So, Delia, what do you do for fun around here?” I ask her.

  “Not nearly enough,” she says with a laugh. “I keep pretty busy, I don’t have much in the way of free time.”

  “Well, that’s a shame. It’s important to have fun now and again.”

  “Something tells me you know all about having fun,” she says with a smirk.

  “Aye, you’d be right there, lass. Sounds like I’m going to have to show you a good time soon. All work and no play and all.”

  I decide to be a little bold and reach out to brush a stray lock of her hair that’s blown loose from her braid back from her face.

  I see a little shiver run through her and I hear her breath catch. A surge of satisfaction floods through me. She wants me as badly as I want her.

  A silence falls over us both and I realize that we’re both slowly leaning closer. I’m mere inches from those perfect lips when I hear my brother’s voice crowing from behind me: “Top o’ the mornin’ to ye both!”

  We startle apart and turn to look at him. He’s forcing a smile, but I can see the undercurrent of anger, particularly when he lights his glance on me.

  “Morning, Rowan. Sleep well?” I ask.

  My jab definitely doesn’t go over his head, but the smile remains in place.

  “Slept great. Lots of sweet dreams.” He winks at Delia, who reddens.

  Delia shifts uncomfortably, clearly feeling the palpable tension between us crackling like static. “Well, I’d better get back to work, boys. Chickens to feed, cows to milk. I’ll see y’all later,” she says, and slips away awkwardly.

  The moment she’s out of sight and earshot, the smile evaporates from Rowan’s face.

  “What the fuck was that about?”

  “Don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, beginning to head back towards the house to get back to work, myself.

  Rowan grabs my shoulder, whirling me around.

  “Are you fucking kidding me? I told you I was going to ask her out, and next thing I know, you’re making a move on her!”

  I shrug. “She’s not your property, Rowan, she can talk to whoever she wants. It’s not my fault she’s clearly attracted to me.”

  Rowan takes a step toward me, fists clenched.

  “That’s bullshit and you know it. You had every opportunity to say something last night, but you didn’t. Instead you decided to act like a sneaky arsehole.”

  A pang of guilt strikes me. He’s right.

  “Fine, maybe I acted like a prick,” I admit, “But you don’t have any sort of claim on her. Why shouldn’t I be able to make a move on her?”

  “Because you didn’t fucking say anything!” he exclaims, exasperated, “If you wanted her, why didn’t you speak up last night?”

  “Because I’m not a fucking five-year-old calling dibs on a toy!” I cried, throwing my hands up in my own frustration. “We’re fucking adults, interested in pursuing the same woman. Why should I have to announce myself before I talk to her?”

  Rowan shakes his head and sighs. “You’re an arsehole, Keenan. A stubborn, childish, arsehole.”

  He pushes past me and stalks off angrily. I know he’s not wrong, and guilt gnaws at my insides, but something deep inside me screams that I can’t give up, that Delia is meant to be mine.

  But for now, I shake off these thoughts and throw myself into the work.

  Chapter Four

  Rowan

  It was definitely a weird feeling to have so much anger between Keenan and me. We’ve had brotherly squabbles throughout the years, of course, but nothing that felt this intense. But then again, I’ve never had such intense feelings for a woman as I do for Delia.

  And apparently, Keenan is drawn to her, too. It would be easy enough to let all of it pass if she chose one or the other of us. But unfortunately, I can’t tell if she can’t choose between us or if she’s just a flirty person by nature.

  And that move that Keenan pulled, getting up early to squeeze in time with her, even after I’d made my intentions clear-- I couldn’t believe it. I’d seen that little head-tilt, lean-in action, too. Seconds later, and I might have walked in on Keenan kissing my girl.

  I sigh. Not that she’s my girl yet, but I’ll fix that. Whether Rowan likes it or not.

  This wasn’t exactly what I’d expected back in Ireland, when I’d been bitching about wanting something different. We’d been sitting in our favorite pub after a long work day, a few pints in.

  “I’m sick of the grind, Keenan,” I’d said.

  “The hell are you on about?” he had asked, taking a swig of his beer. “We’ve got it made.”

  He wasn’t wrong. Our business was successful, and we were rolling in all the money and pussy a man could need. But still that feeling of ennui was gnawing at me.

  “I’m bored with it,” I’d confessed. “We do the same thing day in, day out. With this kind of monotony, I feel like a rat on a wheel.”

  He’d stared into the distance, a contemplative expression on his face.

  “I get what you mean. Definitely feels like a bit of a rut. Maybe we should go on holiday or something.”

  I sipped my beer, thinking. Maybe that would do it, alleviate the unceasing boredom constantly weighing me down. We could get away from the grind, maybe get laid and get our minds off the drudgery.

  But I felt like maybe it went deeper than that. We’d made more than enough money to keep us living more than comfortably for the rest of our lives, even if we never lifted a finger again after that day. I’d been thinking about the possibility of hiring on someone to run things for me, delegating the business and giving myself more of a life.

&nb
sp; But I didn’t really get the chance to think about it more, or discuss it further with Keenan. At that moment, his phone had rung, and the call from our mother had informed us about Aunt Molly’s death. Little did we know, that call was only the beginning.

  I’m thinking of Aunt Molly again as I stand in her garden, looking over what she has planted and assessing the conditions. It looks to be in decent shape, and I hope I can keep it all alive. It might not thrive under my hands as it did under Molly’s green thumb, but I think it’ll survive.

  “Just wait until the sunflowers bloom. It puts a ton of life into this space,” I hear behind me.

  I turn and see Delia’s face. “She had some fields with the actual crops and whatnot, but this garden was her pride and joy,”

  Her arms are folded over her chest as she looks around the garden.

  “I helped her plant those,” she said, pointing to a cluster of lilies, “Bought her the bulbs for her birthday.”

  “You were a good friend to her, weren’t you?”

  “I like to think so,” she says, smiling wistfully. “Molly was a nice lady. I miss her.”

  I nod my agreement.

  “Yeah. Me too. I wish I’d come to visit her,” I admit, “but I just got so caught up in the business, I didn’t give as much thought to family.”

  Delia tilts her head. “Well, you’ll just have to do better for your family going forward, won’t you?”

  There’s a clear meaning to her words, and I sigh. But still, if she had any idea how shifty Keenan was being, maybe she’d be on my side.

  “Yeah. Well, even I have limitations,” I grumble.

  Delia shakes her head, smiling. “So dramatic. I may have just met you boys, but I can tell you’re close. You’ll get over it.”

  I believe her. Keenan and I have never stayed in a fight for long, and neither of us is terribly good at holding a grudge. We’ll get back on track. But as I gaze at this beautiful woman, I wonder where she’ll be standing at the end of it. On my side, or Keenan’s?