Sin & Tonic

by Tessa Layne

  “You’re thinking really loud again, Addie. What did the note say?”

  I read it to her, and she barks out a laugh. A very un-Bri-like sound before she gets eerily quiet.

  “He didn’t say where he was going?” she asks. I don’t miss the concern lacing her voice.

  “Why? Did you see him? Tell me he’s not on the street with another woman in his arms?” I stand and shove the curtains aside, peering out over the city. I strain my eyes, searching for the glint of fiery locks moving up the hill. I should have known that once he got bored with me, he’d want to go experience someone new. Test different waters. Sow his wildness.

  “Nah, I don’t think so anyway.”

  “You don’t think so?” I practically screech.

  “No. Oh my God, Addie, no,” Bri back pedals like a champ. “I mean I saw someone who looks like him outside the President Hotel, but I’m sure I was wrong. Why would he be all the way up here? He’s probably grabbing a beer or roaming around Union Station.” I start to argue with her, but she cuts me off, again, “Look, babe, I’ve got to run, but we’ll catch up tomorrow? Hang out and catch up?” There’s a slide of static as if she’s covering the mouthpiece of her phone. Sound is muffled but I faintly hear her tell someone to sit. And that they need to talk.

  “You okay, Bri? That’s not the asshole stalking you, is it?” My heart leaps, jumping into my throat.

  “I’m good, Adelaide. We’ll talk later.” And the call ends. I don’t miss the decisive emphasis she put on my full name before clicking off though.

  So, I pace. Back and forth, stopping periodically to stare out at the street below. Whatever calm I was starting to feel from Bri talking me off the ledge about Finn, is now swirling with worry for her safety. What if her ex followed her onto the light rail? That dude is such an asshole, but surely there are enough people around, commuting with her. My phone pings several times, skittering across the surface of the desk. I grab it and swipe at the screen. Notifications stacked up, tell me that Bri ran into someone she desperately needed to talk to on the train.

  And then there’s Finn.

  Finn: On my way. You still snuggled in bed? I’ll crawl in and wake you up with orgasms.

  Me: You know I’m rolling my eyes, right?

  Finn: I thought the orgasms might entice you.

  I let the dots bounce while I think. If I were to totally pull myself away from all the shit that’s been swirling through my head, I would be all over Finn’s offer of orgasms, but I don’t know. Though the orgasms are guaranteed to be amazing, I can’t help the feeling that I’m selling out. Kissing my concerns goodbye for a release. Being manipulated by him.

  Evidently tired of watching those dots bounce, the chorus of The Best You Had by Nina Nesbitt blares from my phone. “Hello, Finnegan.”

  “It’s just Finn, love,” he responds, voice low and gravelly in my ear, sending shivers of anticipation straight to my core. Yup. This is one of those times I’m completely helpless to him, and I hate that he has this effect on me regardless of how pissed off I am at him. Because let’s face it, Finn O’Meara has a gift for riling me up.

  I clear my throat, hoping it clears some of my fog away as well, wanting to be strong and hold on until my questions are answered, and my heart is at peace. “Where are you?”

  “Almost there. Just hopped of the tram. Why don’t you crawl back into bed and pretend to be asleep so I can lick you awake.” His accent is thick and ridiculously sexy. I used to be immune to it, but that was well before he whispered to me in Gaelic while buried deep. Damn him and the spell he always seems to cast on me. Finn O’Meara, making smart girls stupid since …forever.

  “It’s, uh…um…” I hate stumbling over my words.

  Lowering his voice even more, into that dangerous level. The one that I have zero resistance to, Finn commands, “Get in bed, love. I swear on all that’s good and holy, that I’ll have you satisfied and relaxed for dinner with your parents tonight.”

  “But—”

  “And you’ll still have time to shower and lament about having to put on pants.” He really does know me. “Love you, Addie. Now get your arse into bed. And the fewer clothes, the better.”

  I curse the whimper that escapes my lips as he disconnects the call.

  Curse the fact that I’m pulling my t-shirt off and wiggling out of my stretchy skirt.

  Curse the fact that Finn makes my head spin and my heart beat faster. And that despite where my mind has been all day, I want those orgasms. And I only want them from him for the rest of my life.

  I quickly braid my hair and slide between the sheets, settling into the middle of the bed. Suddenly unsure, I reach behind me and unhook my bra, launching it onto the floor and, against my feminist heart, I slide my panties off.

  When the door lock whirs with the promise of Finn, I toss my panties overboard, knocking my phone to the floor with a decided thud. I flop over on to my stomach, reaching over the side of the bed, but freeze at the slide of a zipper and Finn’s hungry growl. I twist, looking at him over my shoulder. He’s stalking toward me, stroking his cock lazily as he moves closer. I start to roll but his knee hits the mattress between my legs, pinning me beneath the sheets.

  “Finn,” I breathe his name on a sigh. How can I have been so mad at him? So unsure of where our relationship sits …and yet completely helpless to resist him.

  “Don’t ye dare move,” he says, brogue thick, as he crawls up my body. Sweet Jesus, when he settles over me, pressing me into the mattress I think I just might fucking die.

  Finn’s lips skim up the side of my neck, as he nips and licks his way to my ear. Slowly thrusting his hips against my ass, his breath whispers against the shell of my ear. “Christ, I shouldn’t ha’ left ye.” Soft lips pepper hungry kisses down the column of my neck as Finn’s hands slid under me. One goes up palming my boob, the other, straight to my clit. Circling and teasing. Sliding through the wetness pooling there.

  “Finn, please…” I moan, needing more. Just more.

  “Please what?” he asks, removing his hands way before I’m ready. But before I have a chance to tell him what I want—what I need—he kicks the blankets out of the way, lifts my hips and wraps my braid around his fist. Anticipation, desire—lust—rolls through as he slides into me, stretching me in the most delicious way.

  I gasp.

  I moan.

  I make noises I didn’t know I was capable of as he fucks me slowly. Makes love to me fiercely. And far sooner than I want, my muscles clench and squeeze, my body shaking and shuddering with release. Finn’s smooth glide and thrust, becomes jerky and with a final groan, he stills, shaking above me. His chest to my back. Breath against my neck. The cool fabric of his shorts, the press of his phone and wallet digging in against the backs of my thighs.

  Fuck my insecurities. He couldn’t even wait long enough to shed his clothes—any of them. And that just turns me the fuck on even more.

  Chapter 5

  F inn

  Stupid, stupid, stupid.

  I can’t believe I fucked her like that. Slightly panicked. A bit crazed. And with her fucking engagement ring in the pocket of my shorts. The ones I couldn’t be bothered stripping off on the way into her. I literally fucked her engagement ring up right up against her arse. And now I have to go have dinner with her mum and da. Ask for their blessing, knowing I was just balls-deep in their daughter. The thing with her parents wouldn’t normally bother me, but this is special.

  I might have lied when I told Addie she’d have plenty of time to whine about having to wear pants. She barely has time to catch her breath and take a quick shower before throwing her clothes back on. And when she untwists her plait, leaving her raspberry colored tresses flowing around her in candy floss waves, my breath catches.

  She’s breathtaking.

  I shove my hand in the pocket of my trousers and wrap my fingers around the ring box. What color will she be for the wedding? I can’t help but imagine her standing ac
ross from me, surrounded by my brothers and sisters—Christ, that alone might be a bit overwhelming for my quiet, anti-social girl.

  “We need to go,” she says on a sigh. Eyes pinched, lips pursed, hands worrying at the hem of her black polka-dotted blouse. Her calves pop and flex as she toes her way into cherry red heels that I swear, make my knob thicken behind my zip, and all manner of lusty thoughts crash into the forefront of my brain. Running my tongue along all her silky skin. Pushing that skirt up and out of the way. The feel of those heels, wrapped around me, digging into my arse as I…

  “Finn, let’s go.” Her impatience is unmistakable, her anxiety barely contained. And I thought she’d have been more mellow after the stress relief I just managed.

  The restaurant is attached to the hotel, not in the conventional sense, but through skywalks, and a shopping center and then another glass domed skywalk. And before we even make it to the hostess desk, the nasally ear-fuck from her da starts in. His harassment of the poor girl with the menus, reaches far and wide, like nails on a chalkboard—because growing up outside Dublin, we had actual chalkboards in Primary school. No slick white boards, but chalk dust filtering into our lungs and caking to our fingers.

  “We could turn around. Go back to that pizza place we passed. Or Thai, we could order in,” Addie pleads, already slowing her steps and looking longingly in the direction we just came from.

  No one understands her reluctance better than me. Her father is a right prat and I’d love nothing more than to blow this whole thing off, eat Thai noodles or curry in bed and maybe see a few of Addie’s friends, or visit the shady speakeasy she’s been telling me about. That would definitely be a much better way to spend our time, but I have to stay focused. I have a mission of permission and I can’t, in good conscience ask for her hand without at least approaching her father first. I might be a bit traditional, but only in the ways that matter.

  “That sounds grand, but we need to do this. It’s an hour, maybe two. And your mum will be pleased, yeah?” I wrap my arm around her waist, pulling her into my side as we step up to the hostess’s stand. I request to sit with the rude man and lovely lady she just sat at the overly large round table in the center of the room, thinking of how to get Mr. Huntington alone sooner as opposed to later to plead my case. Because with this man, that’s exactly what I’ll be doing.

  “About time you showed up. We waited, but finally just had them seat us,” the over tanned, overstuffed man with the wiry combover grumbles. And just that quickly, I’m about over him.

  “Sir, my apologies. I had an errand and it took a bit longer than I anticipated.” I reach forward to shake his hand and come up empty. The arse leaves me hanging. With a deep breath, I pull back and wait for his lovely wife to release Addie from an uncomfortable hug and wrap her hand in both of mine. “Mrs. Huntington, delightful to see you again.” She giggles as I hold her chair for her, and then Addie, getting them settled before I take my seat between Addie and her father.

  “Adelaide. Nice of you to squeeze us into your work trip.” Mr. H lifts a glass of vodka, draining in one go. “Not sure why you brought the ginger snap, though,” he grumbles low enough so that Addie and her mum miss it.

  And there it is. The big man of the hour, the one who thinks he’s better than the rest of us, pulls all the attention to himself. Or maybe it’s just me he thinks he’s better than.

  Dinner carries on much the same. Most of us dealing in pleasantries and one of us being a prick.

  After we order dessert, Addie and her mum whisper a bit and excuse themselves to the restroom, leaving me alone with the arse—or giving me the opportunity I need. Either will do.

  “Mr. Huntington, I’d like to have a word with you, if I may.”

  He lifts his empty glass in the air and rattles it at a passing waitress. He looks everywhere, but at me.

  “Sir, I love your daughter. Her vibrancy, her passion—she’s the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I can’t imagine my life without her. Sir, I—”

  “And you what? See a great opportunity for a green-card? Huh?” He leans forward in his seat, eyebrows raised, his meaty finger pounding into the surface of the table.

  “No sir. I’ve my citizenship sorted, already and—”

  “You think you’re good enough for her? A bartender? Pffft, I don’t think so, boy.” He looks around and smacks his tumbler against the tabletop mumbling, “What’s a man got to do to get a drink around here?”

  “I own the pub now,” I tell him, my heart pressing into my throat like it does every time I think about Francie McBride willing the place me. Entrusting me with it. “I’ve owned it for coming on a year, sir. And with all due respect—”

  “Yeah, you think you know respect? You know nothing. Respect isn’t something you kids know anything about. Look at my daughter. That hair? The way she dresses? Hell, she doesn’t respect herself or me. You think it’s not embarrassing having a pink haired, nose pierced troll doll for a daughter? I’m a lawyer for Christ’s sake. I have an image to protect.” His face is dangerously red, eyes bugging out at me as he plows on, “That girl, never falling in line. Not looking like she should. Probably a good thing she left the damn state and didn’t come back. Belongs in a place like that—New York, California—better for my image if she’s not here.” A vein pops out on the side of his forehead, making him look like a right, stubby little knob.

  “Do what you want. Get your damn green card, ’Snaps. Just don’t send her back here until she’s straightened out.” He stands, hiking his trousers high on his portly gut and stalks to the bar muttering under his breath.

  I don’t know why, but I’m stunned. Absolutely blown away by what this man just said. By his attitude towards his daughter. To me, she’s most beautiful person in the world. How can he not see that?

  “Finn, you okay?” Addie’s voice dances around me, enveloping me. She skims her hand across my shoulder and leans into my ear. “Are they bringing us dessert to go? Because I’m so over this.”

  Ditto.

  “I will buy you whatever sweets you want for the rest of your life. No matter the time of day or the weather”—I push back my chair and stand—“consider me your dessert-dick. Your cake-cock. Your sexy sweets server, as long as we both shall live. And we can bloody leave.”

  Addie leans into me and kisses me square on the mouth in the center of the restaurant. In front of all of these people. A real kiss. No little peck on the lips, not a light brush, but a soul-searing, commanding declaration of love. I grin against her lips, slide my hands down to her arse and give it a little squeeze. Coming to her senses, Addie grabs my hand and leads me out of the dining room, away from curious stares and back through the maze of tunnels, toward our hotel. She looks over her shoulder and says, “If those were your vows, I might just have to make an honest man of you, you know.”

  And I follow her like a puppy, her stride putting much needed space between me and her da. Hips swaying, tits bouncing. Leading me to the promised land.

  Chapter 6

  A ddie

  I can’t get out of here fast enough. This, dinners like this, are the exact reason why I moved far away for college and have not once seriously considered moving home.

  I thought talking to my mom would be okay. Sharing with her my plan to ask Finn to marry me. I mean, she’s always been more understanding when it comes to my less than conventional choices. Never commented on my ever-changing hair color. Never berated me on my septum ring or other piercings. Never once judged me for being me. Or at least not to my face. But the conversation that just happened in the restroom opened my eyes. She’s been seriously holding back, and it all came spilling out in the kindest, most hateful way possible.

  So, while my father is the public asshole, my mom stores that shit up, lets it fester to radioactive levels and then spews it with a perfectly pleasant smile. I have to get away.

  Storming out of the restroom where my mother laid waste to everything about me, I see Fi
nn staring across the room as my father gives himself a wedgie pulling his pants up as high as they can go as he retreats to the bar. Honestly, I’m a little shocked that my dad didn’t walk away from Finn the minute my back was turned. It’s not like he’s made any effort to talk to him, to get to know him. Finn is not in the same league as my dad and thus, he’s deemed unworthy. Bullshit, Finn is so much more.

  My dad couldn’t give a shit about anyone other than himself or the people who can benefit him. He’s the kind of person who has no problem stepping on someone else’s back to climb higher in his career. And my mother is evidently more of his pretty little puppet than I thought.

  It takes only a few words with Finn, a short back and forth exchange, and a brief touch, to bring me back from the edge of losing my shit. I love him. He’s my happy place. When he pushes back his chair, standing in front of me, the din and activity of the restaurant falls away. It’s just him and me. And then, when I come to my senses, finding our lips locked, that I’m kissing him with everything that I’m worth, I grasp his hand and bolt. No looking back.

  Back in our room, I kick my heels into the corner, replace my blouse with my #TeamFinn t-shirt and grab my red chucks. “Let’s go out,” I state, shoving my feet into my shoes. I turn toward where Finn is leaning against the wall, emerald eyes caressing me. One hand toying with his belt buckle, the other shoved deep in his pocket.

  He raises his brows and says, “You want to go out. First, you kissed me— practically stuck your tongue down me throat—in the middle of a mass of people, and now you want to go out? Who are ye?” He pushes off of the wall and crosses his arms, standing tall and broad in front of me. Yep, I love him. “What have ye done with her?”

  Propping my hands on my hips, I cock my head to the side, and stop just shy of stomping my foot at him. “What? What are you talking about?”

  He inches closer, crowding into my personal bubble that only he is welcome in. “My Addie likes to stay at home. No touchin’ or kissin’ in public.” The lilt of his words melting into my soul. “Sure ye want to leave the safety of the hotel room twice in one day? To people?”