by Nikki Ash
“Of what…who?” He looks confused, but not mad. He never gets mad. Every time a weakness of mine plows through, he handles it with such patience. He may be several years younger than me, but he never acts like it.
“Of the women you’re piercing and tattooing.” I huff. “I swear you see more vagina and boobs than a gynecologist!”
Lachlan bites down on his bottom lip to stifle his laugh. “You know you’re the only woman I want.” He pulls my head down to his level and kisses me.
“Why do you put up with me?” I groan, fully aware I’m acting like a crazy person. “I’m such a hot mess.”
“Because you’re my hot mess,” Lachlan says with the most adorable boyish grin. “Speaking of which, I talked to Jax. He and Willow are taking Kinsley Saturday night. I’m finally taking you out on a proper date.”
“Really?” I beam. “Where?”
“It’s a surprise.”
When I pout, he laughs softly. “How about I do those piercings you mentioned and then we pick up some takeout and head home to relieve the sitter?” Home…the word coming out of his mouth sounds so right.
“That sounds really good.”
After the blond bimbos leave, I head back to Lachlan’s room. He’s cleaning up his station, so I hop onto the tattoo chair and lie back while he finishes up. “I hope that chick’s clit gets infected,” I say half-jokingly, and Lachlan chuckles.
“You’re so adorable.” He throws several empty containers of ink into the trash.
“And that stupid girl who got those stupid seahorses on her hips. I hope when she gets pregnant and fat, they expand into killer whales.”
Lachlan just laughs harder. “When are you going to let me tattoo you?” he asks, leaning over and kissing me. His lips are soft yet demanding, so damn perfect. My fingers tug on his strands of hair, trying to pull him on top of me. He chuckles into my mouth, but doesn’t obey. “Not here, babe,” he says, pulling back.
“See? You’re already denying me. It’s because you saw like fifteen pussies today, isn’t it?” I pout, and Lachlan snorts in laughter. “It’s not funny. You never say no to me.”
“You want me to fuck you right here with your brothers in the other room?” His hand glides up my thigh and under the bottom of my shorts and panties, landing right on the hood of my pussy. “Fine,” he murmurs, leaning over and slamming the door. Subconsciously, I know this is a very bad idea, but my hormones and jealously have taken over, and I just want to feel Lachlan inside of me.
He pulls my shorts and underwear down and then yanks my body so I’m sideways on the chair. He unbuckles his pants and pulls his dick out, stroking it a few times to get it hard.
“Flip over, baby,” he commands. I do as he says, flipping onto my stomach and spreading my legs so my ass is in the air and I’m open for him. “Jesus,” he growls. “This ass.” He slaps my ass cheek and then pushes into me from behind.
Entwining his fingers into my hair, he yanks my head back and drives into me before he pulls back out. “Fuck, you’re so tight. We’re going to have to make this quick,” he groans. “Rub your clit, baby.” I bring my hand down to my clit and do as he says as he sinks back inside of me oh so slowly.
“Fuck me harder, please,” I beg, needing more. And with another hard smack to my ass, Lachlan starts to fuck me deep and fast. His piercing is nudging and stroking my insides, and it feels so freaking good. His lips find my shoulder, and he bites down hard. All too quickly, my orgasm slams into me. My legs shake, and my head lands on the edge of the cool leather seat. I ride out every wave of my orgasm as Lachlan finds his own release.
With his dick still inside me, he leans forward and whispers into my ear, “You’re mine, and I’m yours, and whatever the fuck you need from me to understand that, I’ll always give you. Even if it means I have to fuck the jealousy right out of you.”
Nineteen
Quinn
I’ve changed my outfit no less than a dozen times. Since Lachlan refused to tell me where we’re going or what we’re doing, I have no clue how to dress. I haven’t been on a real date in years—since a year after Kinsley was born and I attempted to date, only to quickly realize I wasn’t anywhere near ready.
It’s the first week of November, and a small cold front has come through, so I decide on a pair of dark blue ripped skinny jeans, a mauve off the shoulder sweater, and a pair of black heels. I figure with the heels, I can at least look a little dressed up if we’re going somewhere nice. After straightening my hair, I grab my purse and head downstairs. It’s so weird living here without Jax and Willow, but I also love having my own place. I would feel bad about them leaving if they weren’t now living in a super gorgeous condo only a few blocks away from their shop.
There’s a knock on the door, and since Kinsley left a little while ago with Willow and Jax, it has to be Lachlan. After applying a smidge of lip gloss, I swing the door open to find the most stunning man standing on my front stoop. His hair is messy as usual, but his beard has been trimmed so it’s short and neat, exposing a bit of his chiseled jaw. He’s dressed in a white button-down shirt with his sleeves rolled up, showing off the intricate tattoos that cover his forearms, and jeans that mold to his muscular thighs. And in place of his signature Vans, he’s sporting wheat-colored boots.
When he clears his throat, my eyes swing back up to meet his sea-foam green eyes, and that’s when I notice he’s holding a gorgeous bouquet of white, pink, and purple flowers. My heart thumps rapidly against my ribcage as I take in the man in front of me—the man I was hellbent on not giving a chance to in the beginning because of something as stupid as our age difference. Who has turned out to be everything good in my life, giving me the confidence I never thought I would find again. Reminding me every day of how beautiful I am. Loving my daughter as if she’s his own. And I know in this moment, I have hopelessly and irrevocably fallen in love with Lachlan Bryson.
“You look absolutely stunning,” he says, his eyes remaining locked with mine. “These are for you.” He hands me the flowers. “They’re Gillyflowers,” he says, and if I’m not mistaken, he looks almost embarrassed. “The florist said they mean happy life.”
“You asked what the flowers meant?” I bring them up to my nose and inhale the fresh scent of them. I’ve never been given flowers before.
“Yeah, well, there were a lot of options.” He shrugs. “And I’ve never bought flowers before.”
“They’re beautiful. Let me put them down and then we can go.”
After putting the bouquet of flowers into a vase I find under the sink, I lock my door, and we head down the driveaway. “We can take my car,” I offer. Lachlan shakes his head, and that’s when I notice there’s a metallic blue BMW parked in the driveaway. “Is that your vehicle?” I don’t know a lot about cars, but it looks to be on the expensive side.
“Yeah, I haven’t really driven it since moving back to New York,” he admits, opening the door for me so I can get in. The inside is gorgeous, all black leather and new-age electronics. I know he makes a decent living working at Forbidden Ink, but I’m not sure how he could possibly afford a vehicle like this and live in such an expensive condo. Suddenly, I feel like there’s still a lot I don’t know about Lachlan.
We drive for about twenty minutes, until we arrive in downtown Brooklyn. Lachlan parks and we walk over to a restaurant called O’Connor’s. From the outside, it looks like one of the typical hole-in-the-wall restaurants that New York is littered with, but once we step inside, I’m amazed by the extravagance of the place. Elegant wood-panel walls, finished with crown-molding and high-vaulted ceilings are the first things I notice as we approach the hostess. When I glance around, I see an expansive bar off to the side. The back wall is mirrored glass, and the bar top is black shiny marble.
“Lachlan!” The woman manning the hostess stand comes around and gives Lachlan a hug. “It’s been a while. Does Declan know you’re here?”
“Yeah, he made a reservation for me,” he te
lls her. I didn’t even know Declan works here. Actually, I don’t really know much about him or any of Lachlan’s family. I know Lachlan’s parents are in Ireland, and I think someone in his family might own a distillery. I know one of his cousins owns the B & B, but other than that, I don’t know anything else.
“Perfect! Follow me to your table.” She takes us to a small table in the back, away from the other tables. “Your waiter will be right with you.” She hands us each a menu.
Once she’s out of hearing range, I set my menu down and look at Lachlan. “You know, I was just thinking that you know my family and friends, but I feel like I don’t know a whole lot about you.”
“That’s actually what tonight is about,” he admits. “With my parents out of the country, I realized I haven’t shared a lot about myself with you, so tonight our date will double as a crash course in everything Bryson.” He winks playfully. “Starting with my best friend and cousin, Declan O’Connor.”
“Hey, man!” Declan comes into view and clasps his hand on Lachlan’s shoulder. “Quinn.” He nods with a smile. “Welcome to O’Connor’s.”
“Wait!” I exclaim, putting the pieces together. “You own this place?”
“That I do.” He grins. “Every Irish family needs at least one pub.”
I can’t help the laugh that escapes past my lips. “This is hardly a pub.” It’s an upscale restaurant. I peeked at the prices on the menu, and they’re no joke.
“Eh, semantics,” Declan jokes, before bidding us a good dinner and excusing himself, just as the waiter comes over to take our drink order. Lachlan orders a water, so I do the same.
“Where I’m taking you next has alcohol,” Lachlan explains.
“And where’s that?” I have a feeling I know, but I want him to tell me.
“Not falling for that.” He laughs.
“So, Declan owns a pub, and your cousin Kiara owns a B & B. Any other family members own any restaurants or hotels in the area?”
“Nope, although, my aunt and uncle own a corner store in Galway.”
“Is Galway where you’re from?”
“It’s where my parents were raised.”
When I grin, Lachlan asks, “What?”
“It’s like that song by Ed Sheeran…Galway Girl.”
Lachlan laughs. “I’m a guy.”
“Yeah, but I bet you dated tons of Galway girls.” I waggle my eyebrows, and he shakes his head.
When the waiter returns with our drinks, we order our food. I get the scallops, and Lachlan gets the steak. We spend the rest of the meal with Lachlan telling me about his aunts and uncles and all of his cousins.
“Declan and I are leaving the weekend after Thanksgiving for our cousin Emily’s wedding,” he says, taking a bite of food.
“That will be fun. In Ireland?”
“Yeah.”
“How long will you be gone for?” I take a sip of my water, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in my stomach at the memory of every time Rick would let me know he was leaving. Lachlan isn’t Rick, though, and I have to remember that.
“I told your brothers I’ll be gone for five days: Thursday through Monday.” He sets his fork down. “And I was hoping you would join me.” My heart skips a beat at his words. He’s inviting me to go to Ireland with him. To meet his entire family.
“Wow… Five days in Ireland sounds like a dream, but I have Kinsley.” Just the fact he invited me means the world to me. I want to explain that to him, but I don’t want to bring up Rick and taint the moment.
“You can bring her,” he says, as if it’s a given, and my heart constricts at how amazing he is.
“That’s so sweet of you, but she has school.”
“She’d only miss a few days.” He shrugs. “Just think about it, please. I would really love for you guys to meet the rest of my family. ”
“Okay, I’ll think about it.”
After we finish dinner and say bye to Declan, Lachlan drives us to the next stop on our date. When we arrive, the parking lot leading up to a beautiful two story brick and mortar house is empty. I look for a sign but can’t find one. I must’ve missed it when I was looking at the video Jax sent me of Kinsley playing the Wii.
Taking my hand in his, Lachlan guides us past a large yard and up the wooden steps. He unlocks the door, and switches on the light. As I take in my surroundings, I’m not sure exactly what I’m looking at. I expected to see the inside of a home, but it’s definitely not that. The two stories are completely open with mahogany wood walls and matching floors. There are several barrels turned sideways in the middle of the room, and when I walk to the wood railing and look down, I spot a… distillery?
“Is this where whiskey is made?” I glance at a barrel and read the logo branded on the side: Bryson Distillery. I was right! His family does own one. How cool!
“Yeah, gin too.” He grins. “Come, take a look.” He walks over to one of the barrels and shakes it back and forth. That’s when I notice the barrel isn’t like a normal barrel. It has a glass bottom so you can see the liquid sloshing around. Lachlan points to a small hole in the wood. “Put your nose up to it.”
I do as he says and the aroma of the whiskey hits me hard. “Mmm…that smells good.” I beam up at him. “I drank your whiskey at Assets,” I admit. “It was delicious. I can’t believe you guys make this!”
“I know. When I kissed you, I could taste it on your tongue.” He grins devilishly. “C’mon, let me show you around. I had Salazar close the place early so I could give you a private tour.” He winks and threads his fingers through mine.
“Who owns this place?”
“My family.”
“I know that.” I smack his arm playfully. “But I mean, your parents? Or extended family?”
“My parents and I own it.”
We take the stairs down to the first floor and Lachlan explains each piece of equipment and how the process of making whiskey and gin works. He’s so charismatic about it all, I have to wonder why he’s tattooing instead of working here when he said he owns the place with his parents. I save my question for later, though. Right now, I’m enjoying getting the full tour. When we make it back upstairs, we walk through a shop that sells all their drinks as well as some other goodies such as shot glasses and magnets.
“Is your whiskey and gin in a lot of stores?” I ask curiously.
“We’re in most stores, bars, and restaurants on the East Coast,” Lachlan says with pride. “When my dad moved here from Ireland to expand, his dad wasn’t thrilled. He didn’t believe he could make a living selling whiskey and gin in the United States, but my dad was determined. My mom said he would go from business to business offering free bottles for them to try. Over the years the business grew bigger and bigger, and now we’re one of the largest distilleries in the east.”
“That’s amazing.” Lachlan opens the door for me and we enter an open area with an expansive lacquered wood top bar and several matching tables and chairs. He steps behind the bar, so I follow him.
“Hop up.” He grips the curves of my hips and lifts me onto the top of the bar. He separates my thighs and leans in to kiss me. When his lips start to move gently against mine, I sigh into his mouth. Reveling in his touch and his warmth. I can’t remember a time before Lachlan came into my life when I felt so completely content. Now, I feel that way all the time.
“Whiskey or gin?” he asks, pulling back and taking his warmth with him.
“Usually I would say whiskey, but I’m curious about the gin.”
“All right, one Red-Headed Ginger coming right up.” He grants me a panty-melting, lopsided grin that has me cracking up with laughter. I watch as he pours the different ingredients into a metal cup, adds the ice, and then shakes it all together. He pours it all into a Collins glass when he’s done, and hands it to me.
I take a sip of the red-tinted drink, immediately tasting orange and lemon. It’s the perfect mixture of sweet and sour. “This is delicious,” I tell him, taking another si
p.
“Let me have a taste,” he says, but when I try to hand him the glass, he sets it aside and pulls me closer to the edge so he’s standing between my legs, his stomach right up against my center. And then his mouth is on mine. He kisses me like he’s dying and I’m his lifeline. With every brush of our lips, I’m bringing him back to life. And he has no idea that he’s doing the same to me. I’m finally living, and it’s all because of Lachlan. “You’re right,” he murmurs against my lips, “it does taste good.”
And then he’s unbuttoning and unzipping my jeans. I lift up slightly, and he yanks them down my legs. My heels fall off, making a clacking sound against the tiled ground. “Let’s see if you taste as sweet as the drink,” he whispers, spreading my legs so I’m completely open and on display for him to do as he pleases. A few weeks ago, I would’ve shied away from something like this, begged him to close my legs, but now I welcome everything Lachlan does to me because I know when he looks at me, he sees me as beautiful, regardless of all of my flaws.
I close my eyes, waiting to feel his warm breath on me, so I’m shocked when, instead, I feel something cold and wet hit my center. When I look down, I see a piece of ice between Lachlan’s lips. His head moves up and down, the freezing cold ice running along my slit and landing on my clit. When he swirls it around my already swollen nub, my body nearly convulses.
“Lachlan,” I moan, having no clue what I’m even calling his name out for.
“What do you need, baby?” he purrs, pushing the melting ice into me. When I squirm, he chuckles softly. “Hold still.” And then his tongue is hitting my clit, and he’s lapping and licking me like I’m a popsicle on a hot day that needs to be devoured before it melts completely. With every swipe of his cold tongue, I’m pushed closer to the edge, and then I’m falling. My legs are shaking, and I’m writhing against him as warmth spreads throughout my entire body.
Before I’ve even come down from my orgasmic bliss, Lachlan is lifting me off the bar top and setting me on my feet. I faintly hear his pants unzip before he knocks my legs apart and thrusts deep into me. And then, once again, I’m coming completely undone as I lose myself to Lachlan Bryson. And I know in this moment, as he fucks me into oblivion, there is no turning back.
