Hot Male

by Lillian Grant

  At least Sam appeared to have calmed down. He’d thought he was going to get a fist in his gut earlier. A full on brawl in the kitchen would really have put a dampener on the evening’s festivities. As it was, Sam had disappeared upstairs with Maggie for half an hour. Make up sex no doubt, and this time he had left them to it. He’d wound Sam up enough for one day. Pissing Sam off had become nearly as much fun as pushing Maggie’s buttons. They were both so easy to play.

  Sam grinned. “You always get this nervous when you entertain women? Dating must be a real killer for you.”

  “I’m not nervous.”

  “Much.”

  “You should be nervous too. Maud is coming and she’ll be drinking. How long before she grabs your arse, or anything else she can get her bony hands on?”

  Sam refilled his wine glass. “Not going to happen. I’m gay, remember?”

  “She doesn’t believe that any more than I do. We’ve both seen the kinky sex games you get up to with Maggie.”

  “Jealous?”

  Michael crossed the room, placed another log on the fire and lifted the poker to stir the red embers back to flame. He was determined not to be goaded into revealing just how much their relationship burned his gut, seeing Sam doing things to Maggie he could only fantasize about. “Not in the least. I’ve never wanted a man to tie me up.”

  The heavy knocker banging against the solid oak front door brought the conversation to an end. Michael shoved the poker into the stand and started toward the door, only to be overtaken by Maggie. She bustled past him, leaving a cloud of sweet spicy perfume in her wake.

  She must have changed after making out with Sam. The jeans she’d worn earlier had disappeared. Her body was now encased in a slinky vivid blue dress that showed a lot of leg and cleavage. Matching strappy high-heeled sandals accentuated her perfect calves. The color enhanced her pale skin and sparkled her eyes. She’d piled her hair up in some glorious do that left one long curl provocatively draped over her left shoulder. The light caught the sparkle of oversized gold hoops dangling from each ear and a blue gem nestled between her very perky breasts. She looked tastier than anything on the menu. Michael stood mesmerized as the vision of female glory threw open the front door. She glanced in his direction. A smile teased her lips before she turned back to welcome their guests. His dick jumped to attention as the blue fabric hugged a round arse he would love to be pressed against.

  The elderly cackle broke the mood. His cock flopped and he sighed. Maud had arrived. She dragged an exhausted-looking Declan behind her. Michael was shocked. The poor man appeared to have lost ten pounds since he ran off with the happy hooker on his arm. Bags hung like suitcases beneath his eyes, and his gait had become more a shuffle than a stride. Maybe Maud managed to live so long by sucking the life force from the men she bedded. Michael shuddered as he imagined himself waking handcuffed to the hotel bed, a dry husk of a man while Maud preened in front of the mirror like some gothic Marilyn Monroe.

  Time was short. He needed to move quickly. Maud began to peel off her oversized woolen coat and Michael stepped forward. “Let me help you with that.”

  She shrugged the garment off and he tried not to stare at her outfit. A spaghetti-strapped, long, black, slinky evening dress hung on her like a sack. The slit to her thigh revealed what appeared to be the stays of a garter belt and the top of a silky black stocking. He couldn’t tell if the wrinkles were the stocking or her skin. Long black gloves covered most of her arms, and a matching black curly wig hid half her face. Maud shoved the hideous mop back into place. She looked like a very pale, emaciated Shirley Bassey. He just hoped to God she didn’t suddenly start singing Gold Finger.

  He hung her coat on the peg behind the door and offered her his arm. “Do you mind if I steal your date for a minute, Uncle Declan?”

  The man waved them away. “Go on with ya.”

  Michael steered the old lady away from the group on the pretense of fixing her a drink. “You look lovely this evening, Maud.”

  The old lady pulled her arm from his. “Don’t you be getting any funny ideas just because I’m all gussied up. You had your chance and you blew it. Or rather, you wouldn’t let me blow it.” She cackled at her own joke but the comedy was lost on him. Instead, the comment raised images of the old bat climbing over the bed toward him, teeth in hand, offering to help him get his dick up. He’d fought hard to escape, but handcuffed to the bed he’d had nowhere to go. He shuddered and glanced at Maggie. Thank God she’d arrived in the nick of time to call the old lady off. Even though that particular escapade had gotten them all arrested, it had led them to where they were now. He was closer to Maggie than he had ever imagined possible, so he couldn’t quite regret it.

  “Drink?”

  Maud nodded, making her wig slide around on her head. “Sure. Why not? The night’s young.”

  He poured her a glass of red wine and held the drink out to her. Her fingers closed around the bowl but he kept a firm hold of the glass until she looked up at him. “I wanted to talk to you. I’ve got a friend coming to dinner and I need you to behave.”

  She tugged at the glass and then growled, “I always behave.”

  “You mention one word or make one comment about the court case, the hotel incident or the fact I was a prostitute, and Rosalie finds out Clara is very much alive and you are no one’s nurse.”

  “Bastard. You wouldn’t.”

  “Try me. And just for good measure I might just tell Clara where you are. I’m sure she would like a word with you.”

  Chapter 30

  Sam refilled his wine glass and settled back in his chair. He had the feeling this was going to be the dinner from hell. Maud was subdued, for Maud, but he had no doubt once she’d had a few more glasses of wine she would be back to her old self.

  She kept glancing at Michael, and Sam wondered what he’d said to the old lady. Whatever it was, he was glad that at least for now she appeared to be on her best behavior. He didn’t need her carrying on, especially as Meg had seated him to the right of the garrulous geriatric.

  He turned his focus to Brigit. Michael doted on the woman, and why not. She looked stunning and bore a striking resemblance to Meg. Same dark hair and blue eyes, although she was a mite heavier and had thinner lips and a more prominent nose. An Irish beauty if ever he’d seen one. They chatted together like old friends. However, he got the impression from the flirtatious looks she kept giving Michael that either now or in the past, he’d been more than just friends with her. Yep, no doubt the poor woman had been another notch on the arsehole’s bedpost.

  Meg pushed her chair back, and Sam winked at her. The blush tinting her cheeks reminded him of the flush he’d caused earlier when he’d pinned her to the bed and wiped all thoughts of the Irish git from her mind. He grabbed her wrist. “Do you need a hand in the kitchen?”

  She shook her head. “No, thank you, but I think Maud might like a top up.”

  With his eyes focused on Michael, Sam kissed her wrist before letting her go. His focus followed her as she disappeared into the kitchen. When he returned his attention to the table he saw he wasn’t the only one admiring the way Meg’s dress hugged her figure. The other two men at the table gazed at the closed door. Perhaps they were starving and were waiting for dinner. Michael caught his eye and grinned. Sam fisted his hands. The git couldn’t give it up even when he had a woman of his own practically hanging off his dick.

  A pinch on his thigh made him yelp. He glared at Maud, whose fingers were shifting from the aching welt she’d left on his leg ever closer to his crotch. If she pinched that he would never recover. He grabbed her wandering hand and shoved it back in her own lap.

  Brigit leaned toward him. “Are you okay?”

  Sam glanced at Brigit and smiled. “Fine. Just a touch of something disgusting.”

  “Something painful. Is it a bad back you have?”

  “No, why would you think that?”

  “Michael said you had a pain in your posterior.�
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  A chuckle from Michael earned him a fierce glare.

  Maud let out a low cackle. “More likely he said Sam was a pain in the arse. Although, of the two of them, Sam is much more useful.”

  “More useful?” Brigit frowned.

  “From what I’ve seen, if you paid for Sam you’d get your money’s worth. Not like that useless little worm.” She waved her empty wine glass in Michael’s direction. “Although, if Sam’s playing Tinkerbell now, maybe not. Where’s my drink?” She looked into her empty glass as if she expected it to refill itself by magic.

  Sam picked up the half empty wine bottle and refilled her glass, and then topped up Brigit’s when she held hers out toward him.

  “What is it you’d be paying Michael for exactly? I thought he was a dancer? Does she mean you play a fairy in the show? Are you a dancer, Sam?”

  “No, I’m not a fairy. I’m a personal trainer.”

  Brigit glanced at Michael. “Do you give private dancing lessons to help people get fit?”

  “Lessons with his privates more like.” Maud’s wig toppled onto Declan’s lap when a fit of the giggles seemed to hit her like a mini seizure.

  Sam yelped when a booted foot crunched into his shin. “Fuck. What did you do that for?” He leaned down and rubbed his leg as he glared at Michael. The Irishman lifted a shoulder in apparent apology. Sam assumed the kick had been meant for Maud. He’d had enough of the lot of them. Meg could use a hand in the kitchen whether she wanted it or not.

  With a snort of disgust he shoved his chair back. Brigit leapt to her feet. “If you’re in that much pain you should be taking things easy.” She walked around the table and placed a hand on Maud’s shoulder. “You’re a nurse, aren’t you? Can’t you see if you can help the poor man?”

  Sam walked backward away from the table. “She’s as much a nurse as Michael is a ballerina. Keep them both the fuck away from me.” He shoved the kitchen door open and let out a loud sigh of relief when it swung shut behind him.

  Meg looked up from the plate she was filling. “Problem?”

  Her hair had started to tumble free from the pins holding it in place and the heat from the cooker had flushed her cheeks. He crossed the room and stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and nuzzling her neck. “Not anymore. How about we skip dinner and run away together?”

  Meg glanced at the kitchen door. “We can’t. This might be my only chance to get Declan on our side.”

  “And if he agrees to give up Maud we can go home?”

  She turned her head and smiled up at him. “That’s the plan.”

  He sighed. “What do you need me to do, and don’t say distract Maud or I may find a new use for the ladle.”

  Meg giggled. “Sounds kinky, Mr. Stephens.”

  “Oh it is, Ms. Riley.”

  She turned in his arms and kissed him long and slow. “Now, I’d better dish up before people wonder what we’re doing in here.”

  Chapter 31

  Michael excused himself and followed Sam into the kitchen. Brigit was chatting to Declan about Australia, and Maud was busy drinking herself to oblivion. The kick had been poorly aimed and had done nothing to improve Sam’s already sullen mood. As much as it pained him to admit it, he owed him an apology. The sooner they all got out of Ireland the better.

  He pushed the kitchen door open and paused. Sam and Maggie were completely wrapped up in each other. No doubt her tongue was plundering his mouth. A pain gnawed at his gut. Jealousy was an unhappy traveling companion. He really needed to find a woman of his own and get laid, although that could lead to unplanned consequences. Maybe he should join the priesthood. What trouble could he possibly get into with his dick carefully stowed in his cassock and his mind turned over to God?

  Maggie and Sam pulled apart. He stepped into the room and let the door close behind him.

  “Do you need a hand?”

  Sam shook his head. “Everything is under control. Shouldn’t you be amusing your lady friend or kicking some of our other guests?”

  Maggie plated the last piece of pie and glanced at Michael and then Sam. “No one is kicking anyone.”

  “Tell him that.”

  “I’m truly sorry. The kick was meant for Maud. She promised not to mention our unfortunate history so I was just giving her a gentle reminder.”

  Maggie frowned. “What?”

  Michael stepped further into the room. “I kicked Sam by mistake. She was going to blab to Brigit.”

  “And you don’t want her to know?”

  Sam chuckled. “Maybe I should tell her. It would be quite the conversation at the dinner table.”

  Maggie smacked him on the arm with the dishing up spoon. “No one is telling anyone anything. If Michael wants to keep it a secret, then that’s fine, although, it’s no way to build a relationship.”

  “So, you tell Sam everything, do you?”

  “We’re not talking about me, we’re talking about you. Maybe you both need to be reminded about why we’re here.”

  Michael sighed. The whole trip was a nightmare. Shannon accusing him of fathering her baby, seeing Brigit again, and living with the two horniest people he knew. Not only wasn’t he getting any but his poor dick was terrified it might impregnate someone and equally infatuated with Maggie’s now bald pussy. “Do we even have a plan?”

  “We do.” Both men looked at her. “After dinner you boys can take Declan aside on some pretense and give him a stern talking to. He needs to see sense.”

  Sam snorted. “Why can’t Michael talk to him? Declan is his uncle.”

  “Because we’re all in this together. Divide and conquer. I’ll work on Maud, you two take Declan, and between us we might get them both back home where they belong.”

  “What about Brigit?” Michael stared at Maggie. If she talked to Maud with Brigit around, the jig would be up. Brigit might not see him in the same light again, or even worse, blame herself. The woman had enough pain to deal with without getting caught up in this sorry mess.

  “My lips are sealed. She won’t hear anything from me.”

  Sam nodded. “I won’t rock the boat, either. Maybe if your cock can find solace with your Irish beauty you’ll leave my girlfriend alone.”

  Maggie handed Sam two plates and he disappeared back through the door.

  Michael moved to stand beside Maggie. “Is that what you want? For me to find someone else?”

  She wiped some spilled gravy from the edge of the plate with a tea towel. “Your love life is none of my concern.”

  “Shame. I’m sure my love life would be more fun if it was your concern. You certainly seem to know how to enjoy yours. Perhaps you could give me lessons.”

  She glanced up at him and he grinned at her.

  “Fuck off, Michael.”

  He cupped her cheek and turned her face toward him. “Say it’s what you want and I’ll be gone.” His heart pounded. Why had he said that? What if she told him to go? So what, she was just another woman. He could find someone else, couldn’t he?

  She swallowed and gazed into his eyes. Her cheeks were tinged pink and she chewed her bottom lip. Before she responded the door banged open and she shoved him away.

  Meg took a sip of wine and let out a sigh. The meal was over and no one was dead or injured. She glanced at Brigit who was currently leaning so close to Michael her tits were practically falling out of her dress. Meg glanced down at her own cleavage. She should have worn a bra that pushed her up more. Sam had called the woman an Irish beauty, and Michael was clearly in lust with her.

  Michael laughed at something Brigit whispered in his ear, and Meg got to her feet. She leaned across the Irishman, almost pushing her boobs in his face as she retrieved Brigit’s empty dessert bowl.

  She made eye contact with Michael and he winked. She stood back up and pushed her loose curl behind her ear. He might think he had her measure but he was oh-so wrong. She wasn’t jealous and she didn’t want to sleep with him. Michael and Brigit deserved
each other. She already had her man. Her focus turned to Sam. She dipped her head and kissed him full on the lips before lifting his empty bowl.

  Maud stuck her fingers between her lips and whistled. “Are you two going to give us a floor show?”

  Declan had been asleep with his head on the table, but he sat up and glanced around the room. “Floor show? Will there be strippers?”

  Brigit giggled and ran a finger up Michael’s arm. “Do you want to take your clothes off for us, Mr. Monaghan?”

  Michael shook his head. “Not me. I’m on holiday, although Sam gives a pretty good show.”

  Brigit gazed at Sam. “I thought you said you were a personal trainer?”

  Maud grinned. “He is, and he’s got the body to prove it.”

  “I had a wonderful body in my day.” Declan pouted.

  “Nothing wrong with your body, tiger. You’ve got all the right bits in the all the right places.” Maud puckered her lips and planted a big sloppy kiss on Declan, leaving his face smeared with garish red lipstick.

  Meg lifted the last of the bowls. This conversation had to come to an end. She didn’t want anyone naked, and Maud’s mind was wandering a path that would have her blurting out details about old people sex that Meg couldn’t deal with. She was too young to die from a blood clot on the brain brought about by pictures of old people sex clogging up her synapses. “No one is giving anyone a floor show. This is a respectable dinner party.”

  Declan fumbled in his jacket pocket. “Too respectable for me to smoke? I always smoke after sex.”