Sin & Tonic

by Tessa Layne

  Copyright © 2019 by K.C. Enders

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, stored, or transmitted in any form or in any manner without written permission except in the case of brief quotations included in critical articles and reviews. For information, please contact the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of copious amounts of wine, long walks, and the author’s overactive imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Chapter 1

  F inn

  And here we go again, back to Kansas City.

  I wasn’t sure that I was going to be able to make the trip work this summer with all the changes in the past ten or so months. But my girlfriend, Addie, got tickets to the music festival as part of her contract work for the organizers and since things at my pub seem to be sorted, I’m going with her.

  My pub.

  McBride’s Public House is officially mine, and no matter how many times that thought runs through my head it still doesn’t quite feel right to claim it as my own. But it is, and by the hard work of my bartenders and the help of my friends, I’m able to take a few days to accompany my sweet, colorful girl on her trip home.

  Much as she loves seeing her handful of friends and looks forward the different bands playing at the all-day music event, going back and seeing her da is never something that Addie looks forward to. It would’ve killed me to send her alone. I hate the mere thought of her dealing with that judgmental arsehole on her. And yet, I have to talk to him and win his favor.

  “You have your boarding pass, right?” Addie asks, pulling her computer bag from the back seat of my car. “And you have a guest bartender in tonight to help the boys? Did you confirm that? Let everyone know what’s up?” It’s adorable how she worries about the pub.

  “I have and I did. Everything’s sorted, love,” I tell her. I set the sun shade in the windscreen before pulling our suitcases from the boot of the car. “You have what you need?” I confirm before locking up and grabbing our cases.

  “They roll perfectly fine, you know,” she quips, eyeing me over the frames of her sexy glasses, her raspberry hair cascading around her angelic face.

  “And no self-respecting man is going to roll a case like this when he’s perfectly able to lift and carry it like a real man. Don’t emasculate me, love.” I throw her a wink and adjust her slightly heavier case, flexing my muscles in the process.

  She rolls her eyes at me but tugs her lip between her teeth as her gaze stalls on where my bicep strains against the sleeve of my t-shirt. I get my workouts in by lifting full kegs and cases of beer, not wasting my time inside a gym. Working in the pub is more physical than the new lads think it’ll be.

  I can’t stand the idea of not putting everything I have into making the establishment I inherited from Francie McBride a few short months ago as successful as it can be. Him being a bit of a father figure, I’ve always strived to make him proud, but now, I want to honor his memory by making McBride’s the best Irish pub in upstate New York.

  “And you? Eric is set without you?” I ask, guiding her onto the shuttle bus that’ll ferry us from economy parking. I happen to know that her little wiener dog is well settled with our friends for the week, and that he’ll come back to us spoilt rotten.

  She pouts adorably as her slender shoulders sag. “He’s going to hate me,” she laments. “Remember how bad he was last year when we got home from this trip? He held a grudge way longer than I thought that little prick was capable of. And then it took months to get him back on a schedule.”

  “He was a right little knob, that one.” And he was, trying to weasel his way between us in bed. Don’t get me wrong, that dog and I have bonded, but there’s only room in my woman’s bed for one dick, and that little sausage has no right to the honor. “But he’s got to figure it out. He’ll not be making the trip to Ireland with us, so…”

  “Finn, you know I can’t do that.” She hops off the shuttle and cuts me off mid-sentence escaping into the terminal.

  I manage to catch up to Addie at the security line, juggling both of our cases, my phone, and identification. She saunters through, free as you please, with her TSA pre-check, as I load our bags on the line, shed my shoes, empty my pockets and essentially submit to a full cavity search. It’s fine. I’ll do anything for this woman especially if it eases the way for her to make the flight to Dublin in a couple of months, because I happen to know she can do it. I just pray that she will.

  “I’m going to need a coffee before we do this,” Addie tosses over her shoulder as she powerwalks toward our gate. I sigh, grabbing my shoes, belt, wallet and phone in one arm and acquiesce to rolling the damn bags for a bit until I can catch up to her at the coffee shop. “Do you want anything?” she asks bruskly.

  I shove my foot into a shoe and hit her with a serious side-eye. “Are they serving whiskey at your coffee shop?”

  Her response is left to a simple glare and a huff. Those who don’t have the pleasure of knowing us, might see nothing more than clipped conversation and curt responses fired at each other, but I know how hard this is for Addie. Getting on a plane, giving up control. Being in such a confined space for so long with far too many strangers for her comfort.

  I finish putting myself back together after the groping by the security agent and as I tuck the tail of my belt in place, Addie moans around a mouthful of her dark roast. Christ, that sound. As subtly as I can, I make the necessary adjustments in my jeans and throw Addie the wink she’s sure to expect from me at this point.

  The past year and a half with her have changed a lot of things in my world, but I have never been a bashful man. A shameless flirt. Charming. And my favorite description, the Irish Casanova, but never bashful and I love this colorful woman with all my heart. I’m ready for the entire world to know it.

  “Want me to take my bag?” Addie reaches for the pop-up handle of her case.

  I push her hand away indignantly. “Again, what self-respecting able-bodied man would—”

  “Fine,” she huffs, but the tiny smile pulling at her lips shows that she likes it when I take care of her like this.

  My phone buzzes with a text as we approach our gate. I settle our things around Addie and check to see if the message is related to the pub or of a more personal nature.

  “Everything okay?” she pauses in pulling her laptop from her bag, looking at me over the top of her turquoise glasses. They set off her lovely raspberry colored hair and Christ do I love it when she gives me that look. Smart, sassy and a whole lot of bad ass, this girl.

  “Mostly. I’ve, erm, a phone call to return. I’ll pop over to the newsstand so as not to bother you whilst you’re working. Just be a moment, love.” I drop a kiss to her pursed lips and stalk down the walkway for some privacy.

  I lean against the wall, out of the path of the other travelers and open the attachment in the text. I scroll through the pictures, noting the spectacular visage. Each dip and curvy line accentuate the gorgeous beauty. Needing a closer look, I place my thumbs on the screen and pull them apart, zooming in for a better view. Fuck’s sake, it’s enough to bring a man to his knees. Maybe it’s wrong, but the details highlighted in each picture makes my cock thicken more than a little, and biting my lip, I glance up to see Addie staring at me as I adjust myself once again. I quickly connect a call and set up a meeting for when we’re in Kansas City. I’ll have to think of some excuse to steal away from Addie for a few hours, but I’m confident that it’ll be worth it. It’ll all be worth it.

  I dart into the toilets for another quick look before I delete the photos. Wouldn’t want Addie to find these by accident.

  “Nice,” comes a voice floating over my shoulder. I turn to acknowledge the older gentleman washing his hands. “And congratulations, I expect?”

  “Christ, I hope,” I tell him. “It’s s
pectacular, yeah?” I turn my phone so he can get a better look.

  “Son, she’d be a fool to say anything other than yes when you present that remarkably unique ring.” He slings his bag over his shoulder and tosses me a “good luck” as he leaves the loo.

  Pictures deleted and my pick-up appointment with the jeweler sorted, I pocket my phone and head back out to kill some time with Addie before our flight. Her head is down and her fingers flying across the keyboard of her laptop. While I was hiding out in the toilets, she’s set up her makeshift office. Her hair is twisted on the top of her head, held in place with a couple of pens, another clamped seductively between her teeth. It’s ironic really, she does all her work on the computer, but has to have at least three pens at the ready at any given time.

  Jesus, she’s a fucking vision, my heart thumps against my rib cage doing its level best to beat its way closer to her. I mumble a mostly silent Hail Mary as I take my seat next to her. I don’t doubt that she loves me, but I’m going to need all the help I can manage to pull this shite off.

  Chapter 2

  A ddie

  I love him. I love him. I swear to God, I love him.

  I have to remind myself of that fact after Finn’s spent the entire stupid flight trying to distract me. I know—I know—that his heart is in the right place, but damn if I don’t want to strangle him right now. I hate flying, like, hate it with the passion of a thousand fiery suns. But as hard as I tried to talk Finn into make this trip by car, he simply doesn’t have the time. And of course, he wouldn’t hear of me leaving a few days early and meeting his flight at the airport.

  So, we flew. On a plane with a million other people and all of their germs getting recirculated around in a tin can that shouldn’t even be able to get off the ground. The whole thing is unnatural and defies logic.

  “That wasn’t so bad, then,” Finn says, squeezing my thigh in his big hand as the plane bounces and lurches, practically crashing off the runway into a nearby cow field. Or it was just landing normally, but perspective is everything.

  I love him. I love him. I really, really love him.

  “And that’s half the time to Dublin. You’ll do that trip just fine.” He grins broadly, pulling his phone from under his leg, switching it off of airplane mode as the cabin attendants talk about the city, the weather—the fact that we didn’t die.

  Thumbs flying, Finn scrolls through the messages popping up notifications like a slot machine in Vegas. Of course, I’m guessing at that because I’ve never been to Sin City. Let’s be real, to get there I’d have to fly and there are way too many people there. I can’t even imagine stepping inside a casino—the germs, the bad decisions, the bodily fluids. No thank you.

  “How can you be so calm?” I mumble. The click of his seatbelt releasing has me swallowing down utter panic. “What are you doing? The plane’s still moving, you could die,” I whisper-shout at him and reach for the strap dangling between his knees. I shove the ends of the belt back together and pull the strap tight across his hips, eliciting a loud groan from him.

  “Jesus, if I’d known you were interested, I’d have taken you to the loo during the flight. Inducted you properly.” Finn places a hand over mine and presses it to his lap.

  “What are you—”

  “We’ll plan for that on the trip back home, then,” he rasps, his accent thickening along with his dick. “Or maybe we’ll save that for our trip to Dublin. Have more time to get creative in the tight space. More time to recover and give it a second go.”

  I elbow him in the ribs and pull my hand away, eyes narrowed. “Absolutely not,” I say decisively, but on the inside? Yeah, on the inside, I’m picturing the tiny facilities, and how we would ever make things work. Honestly, Finn’s way too tall, and while I might be on the short side, I’ve got boobs for days. Yeah, not gonna work.

  Though we’re in my home town, Finn insists on driving. “We’re going to your da’s house or…?” he lets the question fade as he grumbles under his breath about the car we were given at the rental agency. Normal people enjoy a full-size, but not Finn. His ideal upgrade involves a zippy, speedy little car.

  “The hotel. I want to put that shit off for as long as possible,” I tell him. There are a handful of people I want to see while we’re in town, but my dad is absolutely not anywhere on that list. His condescension is a lot on a normal day, but when it comes to Finn, I have no interest in what judgment will tumble from the man’s mouth.

  I’ve heard everything he’s had to say about my ever-changing hair color, my septum piercing, and the fact that I chose to stay in New York after graduating from Beekman College. Shockingly, I had no interest in moving back home. But what I specifically don’t want to hear about are his opinions on my tall ginger boy. And the fact that I want to ask him to marry me. That’s all way too unconventional for my dad’s narrow little mind.

  “Right then. Same hotel as last year?” He crinkles his brows as he checks his blind spot and merges onto the interstate.

  “Yep.” I slide my hand inside my bag, palming the claddagh ring I bought. Knowing how much Finn loves this music festival, it’s the perfect place to quietly slip a ring on his finger and ask him to be with me forever.

  “Anywhere we want to stop, or do we need to check in straight away? What time are we having dinner with your parents?”

  God, how I wish we didn’t have to do that. My mom is okay enough, but damn my father. “Let’s just go check in and—”

  “Test out the bed?” he asks, a smirk pulling at the side of his mouth. He slides his hand up my thigh, brushing his knuckles against the dampened fabric of my leggings. Yes, please. “And then I might just go for a quick stroll before dinner.”

  “What?”

  “Grab a pint, see what’s changed downtown,” he continues, stroking and rubbing at my core.

  “But—” I gasp, hating how distracted I am. “I—”

  “You’re welcome to walk with me”— he pulls his hand away from where I desperately want him— “If you’re not too worn out afterward.” And he winks.

  That wink. It’s by all means his signature move. I used to think it was all for show, just another cheesy display of his flirtatiousness, but now it’s different, sweet almost. Like we share a secret or inside joke. Like it’s just for me.

  Traffic is light as we head into Kansas City, and we make it downtown to the hotel in no time. Finn insists on parking the car even though we have complimentary valet service with our reservation. I roll my eyes as he follows me to the front desk, carrying our bags the entire time instead of rolling them. Silly stubborn man. Who is he trying to impress? Who am I kidding? He’s just being Finn.

  Heads turn, eyes homing in on the way his t-shirt stretches and molds around his shoulders, his biceps. Yeah girls, he’s all mine. We ride the crowded elevator up to the fourteenth floor. Finn trailing behind, dirty thoughts tumbling from his pillowy lips as I find our room and open the way. Promises of orgasms. And as soon as our door clicks shut, I spin and lean into him, pressing his back against the door.

  “You planning on putting your money where your mouth is?” I slide my hands from his shoulders, down his chest and over his tight abs—curling my fingers into his waistband.

  Finn’s head falls back against the door as surprise drifts to excitement. Excitement turns to desire, and though Finn’s hands are still grasping our bags, he bucks himself off the door and moves us down the small hallway, backing me up until my knees hit the fluffy king-sized bed.

  “I’d rather put my mouth somewhere sweeter,” he growls low and raw.

  He crouches, lowering the suitcases to the floor on either side of us, snug against the end of the bed. Dropping down to his knees, Finn pushes at my shirt and I don’t hesitate for a second, whipping that thing up over my head and gone.

  “Fuck sake, Addie.” He licks his lips at the crimson lace fighting to contain my boobs. “You’re delightfully colorful,” he murmurs nuzzling his face into my cleavage. Hi
s fingertips dance along my rib cage tickling their way down, down, down. Lower and lower until my leggings and panties are gone, discarded along with Finn’s shirt and anything else not essential to the coming activities. Because there’s no way in hell, this is going to be a one-and-done. He’s going to be just as exhausted as me when all is said and done, cuddling his body around me as we pass out. No ridiculous walk about downtown for my ginger boy.

  Conscious thoughts turn to mush when he sits me on the edge of the bed, lifting my legs one at a time and placing a foot on each of the suitcases.

  Feather light kisses blaze a trail from knee to upper thigh, stalling where I ache for his touch, and then start all over again on my other leg. He flicks the button of his shorts and pulls the fly apart, freeing his erection.

  “Stay just like that. Watch me,” Finn commands, his accent thickening.

  I nod, bracing with my hands firmly planted behind me, gripping the duvet in anticipation. And with the first swipe of his tongue, lust and desire ripple through me and my eyes slam shut in ecstasy.

  “Eyes open, love. Watch.”

  I force my lids half open, Finn’s gaze locks and holds me as he slips two fingers inside, stroking me gently. Pumping in and out as his tongue swirls around my clit. His luscious lips sucking in time with the slide of his fingers.

  As his fingers find the spot—that spot—his mouth becomes more demanding.

  Heat spreads throughout my body, legs shaking, heart slamming against my ribs. Fighting the urge to throw my head back and squeeze my eyes shut, I pull my bottom lip between my teeth and focus on Finn devouring me while his free hand grips and slides, stroking his cock. And I. Fall. Apart.

  Unable to hold myself up any longer, I flop back into the cloud of bedding, shaking, shuddering, shimmering in the explosive lights of orgasmic bliss. Finn slides his fingers from me, their absence making me groan in frustration. He crawls up on the bed, pulling me with him toward the ridiculously high stack of fluffy pillows.