O'Gallagher Nights: The Complete Series (O'Gallagher Nights #1-3; Love In All Places #2)

by Mignon Mykel

  She sniffed again and clenched her jaw. I could see that determined, stubborn side trying to win out in my girl but finally she just nodded. “But only because we’re making a scene. Which we seem to do so well,” she added in a smart-assed, off-handed mumbled way. I didn’t bother stopping my chuckle this time.

  She stepped out of my hold and skirted around me, heading back toward the doors we both just came barreling out of.

  Just before getting there, of course the fucking blonde had to walk through.

  I was ready to pull Mia to me, make an announcement to the entire bar that my cock was closed for business, but Mia beat me to the punch.

  She pointed at the girl and said through her teeth. “He’s mine.” Damn, I loved that possessive tone in her voice.

  Blonde, stupid assed bitch, just grinned. “He doesn’t do seconds, sweetheart. Everyone knows that.”

  “I don’t know if you noticed, but he’s done seconds with me. And thirds.” That was a great exaggeration on Mia’s part, because I’d been sporting a hard dick and blue balls for a month, but the thought was the same.

  Mia rubbed her belly and the blonde glanced down, eyes widening as if she only just now noticed the bump Mia was sporting.

  It wasn’t exactly small.

  I reached around Mia and placed my hand on top of hers, rubbing the bump with her. “Just leave her, Mia.” The baby kicked under our hands, giving its opinion of the matter as well.

  My grin was huge as shit. The kicks and punches were getting stronger. According to my book, it wouldn’t be long until Mia and I could watch, without touching, as the baby moved and I was fucking excited as shit for that.

  That would be so fucking cool. Weird, but fucking cool.

  “Well, when you change your mind,” blondie said as she walked away, her eyes full of a promise I had no intention of unwrapping. Ignoring her, I took Mia’s hand in mine and we made our way through the kitchen, up the stairs, into my apartment.

  “I had a surprise for you,” Mia found her voice after I closed the door, locking it behind us.

  “What kind of surprise?” I asked, curious.

  Her hand still in mine, Mia pulled me to the couch where she turned me and pushed on my stomach until I sat down with a grin. With her lip lower lip locked between her teeth, she moved her feet so she could straddle my legs, hoisting up the lower hem of the cotton dress she wore.

  I took her all in, now that there were no outside distractions. Her face was still flushed from the emotion of downstairs, and her voice still had a bit of a quiver in it, but her eyes lost that wildness.

  She wore a simple white, cotton dress, but it cut in at her shoulders in the racer-back fashion, leaving her shoulders bare. It also gave the illusion she wasn’t wearing a bra, but I knew my woman’s tits; she was wearing a bra.

  The cotton stretched tight over her belly. Every day, at least that’s what it felt like, her belly got a little bit bigger. I loved putting my hands on her and feeling our kid move around inside of her. Through the thicker, soft cotton, I could see where her belly button was.

  When Mia woke up last week and saw it had popped out, she cried.

  I laughed, yeah, because of her antics, but then I held her, rocked with her, and told her she was beautiful.

  Because she was.

  This woman with her crazy hair and not-flashy clothes, this woman who sometimes came home from work with marker up and down her arms and glitter in her hair, she was mine.

  I focused back on the here and now, trying not to chuckle yet again as Mia attempted to put her knees on the couch beside my ass, to sit on my lap facing me. Unfortunately, our kid was in the way.

  Mia growled and pushed against my chest so she could stand again. “It worked in my head.”

  “I’m telling you, Mia, your belly’s growing.”

  “It’s not.”

  I laughed at her scowl. “Yeah, Mia baby, it is.” I spread my knees and pulled her to stand between them. I pressed my lips to her belly in question before lifting the lower hem of her dress. I was guessing her goal was to get naked, so I was only happy to oblige.

  Imagine my surprise when the cotton panties I was expecting were actually a pair of lacy boyshorts in a nude color.

  “Damn, Mia.”

  I could never again see another thong and be fine. In the last month, I had my hands on more pairs of thick cotton, thin cotton, bright colored cotton, and black cotton panties, than I ever had before in my life, and I liked it because it was Mia. But this lace she pulled out….

  “I bought them for today.”

  I grinned up at her. “Ah, so you were hoping to get lucky on day one of month two.”

  Finally, she smiled down at me. “Well, yeah. It was your stupid rule.”

  “Mm,” I nodded and, with the fabric of her dress in my fists above the swell of her stomach, I kissed her belly again, this time lips to skin. “But I think I proved myself to you, yeah?”

  Mia put a hand on my shoulder and thread her other through my hair, brushing it back gently with a sweet, kind smile on her face. “Yes, Conor.”

  “And today?”

  A look of panic, then insecurity, flashed over her features before she shrugged. “I’m not really sure what to do about that for the future. You have a reputation, you know.”

  “I’m putting a picture up.” It wasn’t what I originally thought I was going to say, but it was a great idea. “Next to the picture of my parents, and the one of Bren, Rory and me. You and me. Cael texted me a picture from the wedding.”

  Mia’s brows raised. “You’re putting a picture of us up?”

  “Yeah, why not? Then the women will see.”

  She looked like she was thinking about it before she nodded. “Ok, I guess that could work. I don’t know that they’re going to be searching for pictures but…”

  “And I have an appointment tomorrow with my tattoo guy.” One that I scheduled on Thursday—after my last appointment with him.

  Mia took one step back but only so she could lean away from me. “You have an appointment with your tattoo guy?” she repeated, her voice down an octave and her chin dropping to accommodate. She was fucking cute as hell.

  I nodded once. This was what I originally was going to tell her. “Yep.” I popped the ‘p’ and nodded once more.

  “You don’t have any more room.” She was looking at my sleeve where yeah, every inch of skin from just past my shoulder down to my wrist was covered in black and gray ink.

  I held up that same arm and with my thumb, tapped the base of the finger between my pinky and middle fingers.

  Mia frowned. “But that’s…”

  “Yep. That’s right.”

  Her eyes widened. “It is way too soon to be talking about marriage, Conor!”

  Sure, I thought the same thing, but I felt that kick in my heart. I covered up the disappointment, though. “Shit, I know that, Mia. But you’re the mother of my kid—”

  “People have kids and don’t get married all the time!” Her voice was taking on that edge of panic she sometimes had. Her panic, and her words for the matter, was doing serious damage to my ego. As such, I couldn’t manage to hold the pissed off tone from my voice.

  “Are we back to that argument? You want out of this, Mia? Just do co-parenting and see each other when we pass the kid off?”

  Her face fell but she was completely open, every emotion all over her face. “Well, no.”

  “Then let me fucking mark my damn ring finger for you. It’s not a wedding band. But you’re the mother of my kid, and I want you there.”

  Mia stared down at me for what felt like for-fucking-ever and finally she nodded with a shrug of her shoulder. Crazy woman with mixed gestures.

  “Ok. All right, sure. Yeah.”

  “Good.” There was definite satisfaction in my voice. Have I mentioned I’m a sore loser? Yeah, I liked to get my way. “Now, back to our previous programming.” I winked up at her and stood, my body brushing against her
belly and making her step back in the process. When I was at my full height, I started to lift her dress all over again.

  My eyes were fixed on her tits the entire time, fucking ecstatic to learn if she wore something lacy and fun on top too. You have to understand, my girl was a cotton panties and boring bra kind of gal. I tried to get her to buy a flowery print, in cotton even, at Target a few weeks ago, and she went with the regular white.

  But she was wearing lace on her ass.

  I needed to know if there was lace on her chest, too.

  I nearly swallowed my fucking tongue, strangling Mia in the process because the dress was now up by her neck and head, when I saw what she had on.

  My girl found herself a sexy side.

  Shit, that sounded bad.

  I found Mia sexy as all get out, strutting around with a baby belly that I gave her. She was smart, she was witty, she had class. But fucking A, her in lace was a sight to behold.

  “Shit, Mia.”

  She wiggled and I shook my head, helping her out of her dress the rest of the way until she stood in front of me in just nude lace. The bra was unlined, unpadded, and I could see her dark areolas through the pattern.

  Her smile was on the shy side, but her face was bright with happiness. “I did good?”

  “Fuck, yes, Mia. But it’s gotta come off.”

  She took my hand and turned. “Bedroom.”

  And I followed her. Like a lovesick fool. But my cock and balls would be happy, and let’s be honest, with this view? Mia walking in front of me, arm stretched back so she could lead me to my room, dressed in lace with crisscrossing straps between her shoulder blades? Fuck, she could take me anywhere.

  Mia

  I had been excited about playing with my toys with Conor back at my place, but splayed out on his huge bed was a pretty decent compromise.

  That was the other thing. My toys. Conor wouldn’t play with them with me during our month of no-sex, saying that playing and touching was all considered sexual and he wanted complete abstinence. He wouldn’t even let me play while he was around. Finding time to play with your toys while your, well, whatever Conor was –boyfriend?—wasn’t around wasn’t incredibly easy.

  So tonight we’d be toyless which, let’s be honest, would be completely fine. The man looked at me and I was wet. He put his hand on me and I was ready to shoot off into bliss.

  I pulled Conor along to his bedroom, his hand squeezing mine. When we entered the room and I pulled us closer to the bed, Conor stopped and tugged me back into him, where he crossed an arm over the top of my chest and cradled my belly with his other arm.

  “You’re so fucking sexy,” he whispered into my ear. I tilted my head to my shoulder, wordlessly asking him to press his lips to that magical spot. Smart man that he was, Conor complied, sucking, kissing, and nibbling up and down the column of my neck.

  He slipped his hand under the top of my panties, holding his palm over my mound and his fingers just sitting on top of my folds. I spread my feet, trying to get his fingers to slip into the folds, to at least rest on top of my aching clit, but Conor seemed content in just holding me, kissing my neck, and holding his hand possessively over me.

  “Conor.” My voice came out a little whiny, and it was a bit embarrassing.

  “Mia.” His voice was barely a whisper in my ear. He turned me in his arms and leaned in to kiss me. As much as I actually enjoyed being pregnant, I would be happy when this bump wasn’t between us. I wanted to be completely pressed up into Conor.

  His beard scratched against my chin and I wound my hands loosely around his neck. His tongue slipped into my mouth and our kiss was heated but not frantic. I lifted my eyelids, needing to watch Conor, and wasn’t at all surprised to see his hooded eyes fixed on mine.

  He grinned boyishly against my lips as he pulled back. “God, I love you.”

  My heart stopped beating for a second, only to flutter rapidly against my ribs shortly after. I should say it was too soon. We didn’t know each other.

  But we did.

  We spent a month getting to know one another again. He wasn’t the Conor from my childhood, just as I was no longer the little kid who hung out at his house before he left for college. We were two different people and while I was probably a little too sweet for a guy like Conor, and he was probably a little too gruff and hard for a woman like me…

  I liked who we were together.

  So I whispered the three words into the air, feeling them with every piece of my being. “I love you too, Conor.”

  His grin was what fantasies were made of. Daily, he showed me how excited he was for this baby, and this grin right here told me how excited he was for us. Needing for us to be more, I reached between us and started to work on his pants.

  “Naked, Conor,” I said, drawing the zipper down.

  I pushed down on the denim of his jeans, not at all surprised to see he’d gone commando, and before I could kneel to get the denim the rest of the way off, because hello, I couldn’t bend at the waist these days, Conor put his hands over mine and finished the act for me.

  “I can’t have your mouth so close to me right now, Mia baby,” was his gruff response and I couldn’t help but grin. Someone was feeling needy.

  After he straightened up, I had to chuckle at the sight he was. He was naked from the hips down, still sporting his bar tee on top. “You’re cute.”

  Conor scoffed and peeled his shirt off over the top of his head. “That was fucking ass-backwards,” he said, referring to the order in which he lost his clothes.

  “Nah, it was good,” I said, grinning. I reached out to trace the tattoo on his side. I knew the Gaelic knot he had on the back of his shoulder, and I had previously studied the lines and shapes of his sleeve, which had homages to his siblings and heritage intermixed, but these words were new.

  “This is new.” He must have gotten it sometime over the last few days.

  He nodded, looking down to where my fingers traced. He lifted his arm a little to allow greater access. “Got it Thursday morning.”

  Which explained why it was still slightly red. Not badly, but just enough.

  “What does it say?”

  “Dá fhada an lá tagann an tráthnóna.”

  The Gaelic lilt of his tongue was sexy and almost enough for me not to care what it meant. But, “Which means…?”

  Apparently he was all about multitasking, because he dropped to his knees to peel my panties off, pressing a kiss to the underside of my belly, the top of my thigh, the top of my mound, all before answering, “’However long the day, the evening will come.’”

  I lifted a brow. “You work nights, bud. Does that mean you don’t like your days with me? You crave the bar at night?” I was grinning and there was a slight lift to my voice.

  “No, smartass.” He slapped my ass before standing and I stepped out of the lace pooled at my feet. “It means no matter how bad, no matter how long, the good will always come.”

  “Wow, Conor O’Gallagher has a philosophical side.”

  He just chuckled, shaking his head. “You really are a smartass.” He reached behind me to undo the clasp of my bra, but when he did and the material didn’t fall, the change in his face, from gleeful to confused, was comical.

  “How the fuck does this come off?” Both of his hands went to my back to hold out the ends, but because it was a multi-way bra and I crisscrossed the straps…

  “What, a man with your sexual prowess hasn’t encountered a multi-way bra?”

  “This a trick question?” His brows were down in concentration, but he still looked determined.

  “Over my head, cowboy.”

  I reached in front of me to pull the cups over my breasts, which spilled out when unconfined, and started to shimmy and twist it off over my head when Conor got with the program and finished the job.

  “Finally,” he said on an exasperated sigh, making me laugh. His hands went straight to my over-sized breasts and he kneaded them in his hands. “God, w
atching these get bigger and not being about to do anything with them…” He cut off his thought when he bent low to suck on one of my nipples. My head fell back at the feel of his mouth over me and I put my hands in his hair, keeping him pressed closed.

  “God, Conor.”

  He chuckled against my flesh and when he ran his tongue over my now hardened peak, I damn near came. “Oh my God.”

  “Damn,” he said, pulling away from my chest. “If I knew abstinence after a really good fuck would get you to start talking, I’d have done it sooner.”

  I lifted a brow. “Really, Conor? We had sex, didn’t talk for five months, had sex nearly twice in one day, and then spent a month not touching. How much sooner do you think you should have planned to abstain?”

  He grinned, then shrugged. “Should’ve gone with my gut when I was still thinking about you a week after the first time. Should have found you. I could have figured it out.”

  “With what information?” I was trying not to, but I couldn’t help but grin at his determination. “You didn’t have my name, you knew nothing about me…”

  “Stop being so smart about this, Mia.” His grin was wide. “I should have figured out a way. Now stop talking. I want to feel you around me.” He put his hand between my legs and flicked the tip of his finger over my clit, causing me to moan.

  “Yeah, baby, just like that.” He circled those fingers around the nub then strummed it back and forth before slipping his fingers further back. I fully expected him to sink two, if not three, fingers into me straight away, but he surprised me by starting with one.

  “Gotta be sure you’re ready,” he said, watching my face as he moved his finger in and out slowly. “You’re pretty fucking slick here, Mia baby.”

  “More,” I said, grinding my hips against his hand.

  “Ah, you’re greedy today, yeah?” He pulled his finger out and went back to tormenting my clit.

  I growled. Yes, I growled. “Conor.”

  “Tell me what you need.” He lowered his mouth to my shoulder, where he pressed small kisses over and over again. His finger between my lower lips continued to play and he put his other hand on the side of my swollen belly. If I weren’t so aroused, I would be smiling with happiness over the fact he always had a hand on my belly, but damn, I waited a long month for this night and I needed him.