Irish

by Dusty Lassetter

  “Your room or mine?”

  “Mine,” I reply.

  Before she can stop me, I swiftly grab her by the hips and hoist her tiny waist over my left shoulder. The cheerful laugh that falls from her luscious lips can be heard over the music, and it causes the people in the room to look in our direction. When I see Big Country looking at us, I playfully slap my hand down on Ashley’s ass before giving it a squeeze.

  “Did you just cop a feel? And do you not care that everyone can see my panties?”

  “Yes, but for a good reason, and no.” I declare, giving the Austin President a smirk before turning around to head toward my room. If he doesn’t get the message through this small stunt I will have to show him another way. The moment Ashley sees Brice she lets out another giggle. This time my ears aren’t presented with the sound. Instead, I feel the laughter vibrate out of her chest onto my back.

  “Do you even have cards?” She asks, once inside my room.

  Ignoring her question, I place Ashley back to her feet before walking to the table beside my bed. Pulling out a deck of cards, I sometimes mess with while watching television, I extend it to her, throwing in a wink to make the smile she’s sporting grow. I enjoy seeing those perfect lips pulled into something other than a frown.

  “What?” I ask, seeing an evil gleam forming in her eyes.

  “You should have to take off two articles of clothing for groping me out of jealousy.”

  “You mean I can fondle you as long as it has nothin’ to do with that emotion?” I inquire, already taking of my cut and shirt. At this point, I am willing to do anything to keep her here with me, even if she isn’t playing fair.

  “Maybe,” she whispers, licking her lips while staring at the new tattoo I had done a couple of days ago. The son of bitch still hurts, but I would go through all that pain again as long as she keeps looking at me like this.

  Her verbal response surprises me. I like that we are moving forward instead of staying stuck in a place that neither one of us were happy in. It’s amazing how easily we can get back into the groove of us being together. It’s like the past two years were erased in a moments time. Ashley has been through a lot, and now is my chance to make sure she feels nothing but happiness from here on out.

  “Do you want to be the dealer?”

  “No, I trust you,” she states.

  I don’t say it out loud, but that is not something she should do in this situation. I learned how to stack a deck from my father. I should feel bad that I am about to make it impossible for her to win, but I’m too busy planning all the things I will do once she’s completely bare to me.

  “Five card draw. Each loss is worth one article of clothing. Pairs, such as your shoes and socks, count as one.”

  “So, all I have to do is beat you three times.”

  It’s obvious my girl has remembered I never wear underwear. All I have on are my pants, socks, and shoes. Her eyes begin to glitter with power as she thinks about how clever it was for her to better the chances at winning. I’ll have to win four times to get what I want; Ashley naked.

  We both choose a spot on the bed, and I deal the first hand knowing it will be a tossup on who wins. I won’t be able to stack the deck until after this round. When she looks at me, then back down at the cards she’s now holding in her hand, a goofy smile spreads across her face and I know Ashley just got lucky.

  “I need three. You?”

  “Two please,” she sing-songs.

  “What do you have?” I question, looking down at the shitty hand I’m holding between my fingers. I have a pair of twos, with my highest card being a nine. There is no way I’m winning.

  “Three of a kind,” she practically laughs out. Turning her hand face up on the bedspread, I see three queens staring up at me. She has a throwaway nine of diamonds and ace of spades. Placing my crappy cards beside hers, I show Ashley my pair of twos, one nine, and the throwaways. Tossing my boots to the ground, I shuffle the cards. Thankfully, my old man taught me how to cheat when I was a kid. It’s almost too easy to place the three nines that were on the bed at the bottom of the deck. The trick is to make sure they stay there, and draw my five from the bottom while dealing Ashley’s from the top.

  Game after game, I keep winning until Ashley is left in nothing but her black thong. To tell the truth, I could end the game right now and be happy working around the sexy piece of cloth. However, she and I had a bet. I don’t get to do what I want until she is fully naked, which is going to happen after I lay down this four of a kind.

  “How did you win four in a row?” She squeals, throwing her cards down on the bed.

  “The Irish are known for being lucky,” I joke.

  Nothing else is said as she stands up to take off the skimpy thong. When the material falls to the floor, my eyes zero in on her perfectly shaved pussy just waiting for my touch. Like a man possessed, I throw her to the mattress and spread her legs wide enough for my jean covered hips to rest between.

  “Slow down there, tiger,” Ashley nervously laughs out. I can tell she’s making jokes to help ease some of the worry she must be feeling. Leaning all my weight on one elbow, I sweep away the long strands of hair that have fallen across her face.

  “You are absolutely stunnin’,” I whisper.

  “Tony, I need to tell you something.”

  The tone of her voice leads me to believe the information she wants to reveal is serious. I find it strange that Ashley would choose this moment in time to tell me something important, but I also find it reassuring that she wants to share it at all.

  When I don’t say anything, just wait for her to start her confession, Ashley finally builds up the courage to continue. “Slasher,” she starts, then takes a deep breath before continuing. “Slasher made me orgasm.”

  Talk about a mood changer. Hearing his name sends a wave of white-hot anger flooding my system, and that’s before I completely process what she said after that. Obviously, I knew she was sexually abused among other things, but hearing and thinking are two very different things.

  “I’m sorry,” Ashley mumbles while trying to wiggle out from underneath me. I place more of my weight on her body to stop any further attempts to get away. I just need a minute to breathe through this wave of sickness I’ve suddenly started to feel. Not towards her, the nausea is directed at the images my mind has conjured up once again.

  “Never apologize for something you had zero control over,” I growl. “You have nothing to be sorry for. Do you hear me?”

  Taking a hold of her chin, I force her eyes that are filled with shame and sadness to look into mine. “I…I just thought you should know. I mean, you have the right to know what kind of person you are getting involved with,” Ashley confesses.

  “What is that supposed to mean? What kind of person do you think you are?”

  “Tony, please don’t make me say it.”

  “Hey, I don’t know what fucked up stuff you are conjurin’ up in that mind of yours, but I’m tellin’ you to stop. What he forced you to do doesn’t matter to me, or anyone else. That shame I see glittering in your eyes is directed at the wrong person. Don’t let that bastard win, Ashley.”

  “You don’t find me repulsive after hearing that?”

  “Would a man that finds you repulsive do this?”

  Without warning, I take her lips in a kiss that is meant to cause all the doubts swimming around in that pretty little head of hers to disappear. With each swipe of my tongue, I’m reminding this woman of how special she is to me. Each time I bite her bottom lip, I’m relaying how much I need her. The low growls coming from my chest are meant to show her how possessive I am over the woman I love.

  “Would a man that finds you repulsive do this?”

  The question is rhetorical, and she understands that when I start kissing my way across every one of the scars on her skin. Starting on the inside of her neck, and making my way down her collar bone, until I am at her sides. Sitting up, I continue to find each mark that
asshole forced on her body and show her just how sexy I find them.

  “Would a man that finds you repulsive do this?”

  Once again, I don’t wait for a response. I slowly inch my hand down her stomach until my fingers finally hit home in her warm folds. Using my index finger, I gather the juices and make a trail back up to her sweet spot. Applying a tiny bit of pressure, her eyes start to close from pleasure.

  “Eyes on me, mo anam cara.”

  After she has forced her eyelids back open, I can once again see the cloudy blue I love to gaze into. As I go back to making a figure eight around her entrance and core, slowly tightening the circles, I can see a storm of emotions starting to build behind those eyes. The moans of pleasure rumbling from her chest does nothing to scare away the raging hard on I’m currently sporting. My dick is itching to be released, so he can dive head first into her warm heat. The only thing stopping me is knowing she’s not ready for that.

  “I love everything about you,” I lean in and whisper against the shell of her ear before taking one of her sweet nipples into my mouth. I couldn’t resist the way they were presenting themselves to me, just begging to be in my mouth. Rolling my tongue across the pebbled peek, I suck hard enough to make sure she feels it. When her back arches off the bed to lean into my touch, the confidence I’ve never been lacking starts surging through my bloodstream.

  Up to this point, I have kept my fingers on a steady rhythm. Never quite penetrating her opening, and not quite touching her clit. The spot she needs me to the most. Throwing her body off guard, I switch my speed and the direction I am moving. The faster pace causes Ashley’s entire body to tighten with anticipation. I can almost feel the way her pussy walls would be clamping down on my cock right now. They would be trying to milk my dick dry while her pussy takes all the pleasure I can give her.

  Right before sending her over the edge, I bite down hard on her nipple. The sound of her moans vibrating off the walls is more than enough to keep my dick aching with need. Inhaling deep, the smell of her arousal fills my nose. Continuing my assault on her clit, I can feel her juices freely flowing onto my hand. Once her tremors have subsided, and she is no longer twisting her fingers into my sheets, I suck the fingers that are coated in her essence into my mouth.

  “You’re perfect. I won’t allow you to believe anything else.” I state before sealing the declaration with a kiss.

  Ashley

  I walk back to my room, touching my kiss swollen lips while having an internal debate with myself on whether I just allowed a snake to slither his way back into my life. I know I’m about to make zero sense, but Irish is not the same man as Tony. Yet, he somehow still is. It’s like Tony and Irish are two sides of the same coin. The new man is willing to own up to his mistakes and ask for forgiveness when he is wrong. Maybe the new and improved Ashley could give her heart to Irish. It will be something that takes time, but the way he has fought for us makes it hard no to want to do the same.

  I don’t bother going to the bathroom to wash my face. Tonight is one of those nights where my bones are tired and want nothing more than to go straight to bed. I don’t think my sore feet would allow me to stand up long enough to accomplish the task anyway. I don’t regret telling Irish I couldn’t stay with him in his room. We need to take this slow, and the two of us together, both having enough alcohol in our system to affect our thinking ability, is not a good way to do that. Flopping down on my comfy mattress, I kick my shoes off before rolling over onto my stomach. It isn’t until I reach under my pillow to give my head extra support with my hands that I feel a folded up piece of paper.

  Turning on the lamp that sits on the bedside table, I unfold the paper and grow even more curious as picture falls to the mattress. Before flipping the image over to see what it is, I read the lines that have been hand written in red ink.

  Bring Scarlett to the backdoor. Slasher sent you this photo

  as a reminder of what will happen if you break your promise.

  Slowly flipping the photo over, I’m repulsed by the image of me lying naked, bloodied, and passed out on a bed. The wounds on my body are consistent with the ones Slasher put on me the first night he had me all to himself. The cuffs of torture are there. Keeping my limp wrists and ankles tied to the bed post after I’ve already passed out from the pain. The name pretty girl is written in blood across my abdomen. I look dead, and the fear that I could go back to that place is so potent I can taste it.

  Standing up to pace around the room, I remember the night Slasher made me promise him I would do whatever was asked of me, but can I really send Scarlett back to her own personal hell? The things that were done to her are nothing short of inhumane. That poor girl just turned eighteen, how can I choose between her demise and my own?

  Once again, I’m happy to know everyone else is in bed when I sneak out of yet another room. I tip-toe down the hallway, not caring that I don’t have my shoes on, being extra careful not to make any noise. Passing several doors before arriving at the one I need, I cringe when the sound of rusty hinges alerts the person lying on the bed of my arrival.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Before answering, I make sure to rethink my decision. Can I live with the fact that this choice could get someone I care about killed? Would it not be better for me to go to the backdoor by myself? I’ve survived Slasher before, it is possible to do it a second time.

  “I need you to come with me,” I whisper, hoping like hell the panic in my voice is hidden enough not to cause concern. The last thing I need is chaos when I’m trying to keep calm. On the outside I seem confident, but the voice in my head is telling me to get as far away from the man waiting outside as possible.

  “What’s goin’ on, Ashley?”

  I ignore the question, instead opting to repeat the same sentence I just said. Apparently hearing the command the second time is all Irish needs to get out of bed. He steps into a pair of jeans, shirt, and boots that were thrown on the floor before walking up to me.

  “Where are we goin’?”

  Once he is in the hallway, I hand him the paper and the photo. It doesn’t bother me to show him the image, I think he needs to see exactly what Slasher is capable of. Hearing about it and seeing it are two very different things.

  “Who’s waiting at the door, Ashley?”

  Irish asks me the question like I would know the answer. I don’t get angry because the message was vague, and only the people that were privy to Slasher’s commands would have full knowledge of what the note means.

  “Slasher made me promise to give an unknown man whatever he asked for when the time came to do so. I can’t tell you who is at that door, but I can tell you if we don’t come up with a plan fast he will be gone before we find out.”

  “Why am I just now hearin’ about this?”

  “That’s not important. We need a plan.”

  “No way. I’m wakin’ up Torch and Taz. There is no we, only me and them.”

  He finishes his statement while gesturing at his chest then mine. The relief that floods my system knowing I won’t have to face whoever is waiting out there is instant. I think Tony can sense my reaction to his words because he gives me a look that says I was crazy for ever thinking I was going to help.

  “Follow me,” he orders, walking up the hall toward Taz and Torch’s room. One after the other he wakes them up, showing them the note while keeping the photo of me securely tucked away in his pants pocket. It doesn’t take them long to get dressed and ready to plan an attack.

  “We are going to walk around the house. You need to send her to the back door and have her talk loud so no one hears us.”

  “No,” Irish immediately turns down Taz’s idea. The look on Torch’s face says he agrees with him, and doesn’t think sending me in is the best idea.

  “We don’t know how many there are, so you can’t just open the door with a gun pointed in the air. You need back up, and we need her.”

  “What do you think will happen when she shows
up without Scarlett?”

  “You can hide beside the door without him seeing you.”

  “I’ll do it,” I say, knowing that this is the best way to keep Irish and his friends safe. They have provided me with a lot, the least I can do is make sure they keep their heads on. My statement causes Irish to frown in my direction before the two men look to him to make sure he is on board. We are all surprised when he finally responds. “She makes her own decisions.”

  “Okay. You’ll need to talk loud, and make sure to keep from staying silent for too long. We will be as quiet as possible,” Taz instructs me as he looks from Torch then back to me again.

  The men start rushing to load themselves down with as many guns as possible while Irish continues to glare at me out of the corner of his eye. Before long, I am being led to the back of the compound where the exit is. I try to hide the shaking of my limbs, but I think my nerves become obvious when Irish takes a hold of my hand.

  “I’m not going to let anyone hurt you. You need to know that if I weren’t confident in my ability to keep you safe I wouldn’t let you do this.”

  “I know,” I shakily whisper. “And if I weren’t positive you could keep me safe I wouldn’t have agreed to do it at all.”

  My whispered words seem to calm us both down. I do have full confidence in his ability to keep me safe, so there really is no reason for me to be feeling like I’m being lead to my death. I blame it on all the unknowns. How many men will there be in total? Will they all be standing at the door? Am I going to be grabbed as soon as I show my face?

  When we finally make it to the door, Irish grabs my left hand. Intertwining our fingers together, he lets me know that I need to keep this half of myself hidden. He will be the anchor that keeps me from getting snatched. There is no way for someone to pull me from this hallway by myself.

  The sound of the door creaking open is much louder to my ears now that my nerves are on edge. I make a large enough gap to poke my head out. Looking out into the starry night sky, I don’t immediately see anyone. It isn’t until a group of men walk out from behind the metal shops that I begin to sweat from fear.