by Mignon Mykel
I took her hand in mine, trying to ignore the coldness of her smile, but when our hands touched for only the merest of seconds, she slipped her hand from mine and turned back to Conor, promptly dismissing me.
What the actual fuck?
At that moment, I decided that Winters was the perfect surname for her. Not only was her hair the color of winter, but she was just as cold.
From then on, I spent my few moments with her riling her up and she took the opportunities to send subtle jabs my way, things like I “whored myself for money” and that I stole from the poor.
Subtle like that, yeah?
Whatever she’d heard about me had to have been slightly exaggerated. I certainly didn’t whore myself for money, but I would definitely admit to sleeping around. And I definitely didn’t steal from the poor. Convincing people of where to spend their money was a gift, and it wasn’t my fault that some people didn’t pay attention to their own bottom lines.
I shook my head. I had things to do and sitting here reminiscing about Emily and whatever she thought were my wrong-doings wasn’t going to get my day going.
Thankfully, my cock decided that thinking about Emily wasn’t a good idea and I was able to change comfortably into my favorite pair of Left Field NYC jeans, pairing it with a well-worn Henley shirt. I ran my hand through my unkempt hair, splashed on a dash of cologne because any more and Conor would send me to the showers—the dickwad—and brushed my teeth quickly before heading down to face the firing squad that was my brother.
By the time I got to the office, Emily was standing and smiling for Conor—the ass—and Conor was laughing at something she said. Apparently Conor gave her the news we were giving her a raise. She was due for one and besides, she was a good employee and deserved therefore deserved it. Then he handed her a pair of keys.
I frowned and caught the last part of their conversation, standing just outside the door while neither caught on to my presence.
“—I’ll return it in three hours tops.”
“Don’t worry about it. Keep it for the rest of the school week. My bike is still in the back if Mia needs me for anything today.”
Emily frowned, but not like the frowns she gave me. This was more of a concerned one. “But if Mia needs you for anything, she can’t very well get on the bike! And what about Aiden?”
“You just worry about passing your test, Em. We’ll be fine here.”
She worried on her lip and glanced around the room in what I had learned was her way of trying to come up with an alternative to whatever was being said. Unfortunately, I wasn’t quick enough to pushing away from the door and her eyes locked on to mine.
And yep. There it was.
That quick look of disdain in my direction.
Fighting the urge to roll my eyes and shake my head, I stepped into the room. Even Conor’s open face turned to one of scorn. Fuck, I couldn’t do anything right with anyone today.
“Rory. You’re late.”
“I overslept. I was busy rescuing damsels last night.” I winked in Emily’s direction and earned myself the scowl I knew was coming.
“Emily, you can go,” Conor said kindly to her. “You don’t need to stick around for Rory’s ass-whoopin’.”
Emily laughed—she fucking laughed—at Conor before moving around the desk to give my big, burly brother a hug. When she moved to step past me, I turned sideways to allow her through. She turned as well, making sure to leave a fucking-assed huge gap between our bodies.
“Watch out for sleeping bodies on the back stoop!” I yelled after her as she headed toward the back door. Emily didn’t even bother to turn, instead just giving me the bird over her shoulder.
I chuckled and shook my head as I stepped into Conor’s office completely.
“Shut the door.”
Well, then. Conor meant business today.
Fucker couldn’t fire me. I paid for half of this joint, and it was my fucking ingenuity that kept patrons coming in the doors and our asses above the red line.
I shut the door anyhow before moving to sit in the seat Emily had just vacated.
“What’s up, big brother?” I sat back casually in the chair, allowing my feet to rest under Conor’s desk from my side, my ankles crossed.
“I asked you before Aiden was born if you were going to be able to step up here, but Rory…” He shook his head and ran a hand down his face. “Fuck, Rory, I know you do a lot for the place, but I really need you to be more accountable for your time. I can’t fucking rely on you. For your shifts, sure, but this morning? You being late for a fucking meeting with an employee? Regardless of whatever the fuck happened with you two, I need to know that I can count on you for the business side of things. Fuck, Rory, I’d love it if I could cut back another day but I can’t do that if you aren’t going to be reliable.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and feigned indifference. “It was just a review meeting with Emily. Fuck, I already knew we were giving her a raise; what the fuck did you need me here for?”
“To do the fucking review, Rory!” Conor roared. It wasn’t very often that my big brother lost his cool; he was pretty laid back in that regard, but obviously something was stressing the big guy. “If I can’t fucking rely on you to do business ended things when I can’t be here, who the fuck can I rely on?”
“Allow Brenna to buy in,” I shrugged a shoulder, essentially dismissing Conor’s concern. Sure, Brenna never showed an interest in the business side of the bar, but hell, it was her namesake, too.
“Always have an answer, don’t you? Such a fucking smart ass.” Conor leaned forward and shook his head. “Even if Brenna did buy in, she isn’t ready for the business side. Fuck, Stone has more knowledge on this end than she does. But that’s beside the point. When can I count on you, Rory? When are you going to grow the fuck up and be an adult?”
“Woah-ho-ho,” I held my hands up, palms out. “Hold up a second.” I sat up straight and pointed at myself. “Me? Me, grow up. Are you fucking shitting me right now, Conor? Look who’s fucking talking! Up until Mia showed up fucking five months pregnant, you were just the fuck like me!”
“Yeah, and I owned up to my shit and I grew up. You’re fucking twenty-nine years old, Rory.”
“And you were thirty-two!” I couldn’t believe he was pulling this. “Who the hell comes up with ideas for raising our revenue, huh? Yeah, that’s right, fucker. Me,” I said, pointing at my chest. “My ideas have allowed you to work the fucking bar three fucking nights a week and do the cushy thing the other four.”
“I have a family.”
“Yeah, and a woman who won’t marry you.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I knew I hit the wrong button. Conor’s face went blank so fucking fast and his eyes closed down. Fuck me.
Conor pushed away from his desk and grabbed his bike keys from the top drawer. “Just grow the fuck up, Rory.” When his voice went from heated to so incredibly cool, I knew that it wasn’t going to be easy to get back in my brother’s good graces again. It was going to take a little bit longer than an hour run on his bike.
“Look, Con—”
“I hope I can trust you to open the damn bar on time.” Without another word, Conor stormed out past me, opening the back door and allowing it to slam shut behind him.
Well shit, that didn’t end exactly well.
Emily
When I first started at O’Gallaghers, I would be lying if I said either of the O’Gallagher brothers didn’t scare me. Shoot, Brenna even scared me to a degree. She was all sweet but there was definitely more lurking behind her eyes.
But Conor had changed over the last year, all thanks to his girlfriend. Mia took Conor from the womanizing brute he’d been reputed to being, to the type of guy you could easily go to with your problems.
When I entered his office this morning, he took one look at me and told me to sit. I told him everything from the past eight hours and how I was terrified I was going to get kicked out of my program for failing a test—
if I failed one, I only had room to fail one more; two times, and you were out—and he offered me the keys to his truck. It was also a relief to know he had been intending to offer me a raise, minimal as it was, but I knew that it would help.
Then, while he didn’t scold me, he was pretty firm about the fact that had he known I was walking to and from the bar, he would have offered me the apartment above the bar, not Rory, because “that fucker already had a place.” Conor also offered to change my hours around so that I would still be on the floor during peak times, but not so incredibly late that it would interfere with my school schedule and studying. These were all things I’d been too terrified to ask, for fear I’d lose my job. There were more senior barmaids on the team, so it made sense to me that they would have first bill for hours, but knowing that Conor had my best interests in mind definitely helped calm some of my trepidations.
With the benefit of Conor’s truck, I managed to get back to my apartment, shower and change, grab my notes and notecards, and fly to the school, where I was then able to cram for an hour before the test. I felt confident going in, and felt even better coming out.
When I returned to O’Gallaghers to thank him, I was surprised to see that Conor’s bike was gone. Was something wrong with Mia?
I entered the pub through the back and waved hello to the weekday cook, Mike, on the floor before heading to Conor’s office to write a note to say ‘thank you.’
When I exited the office, Mike held up a hand as he dropped something in the fryer. “You want something, Em?”
I had nowhere to be and I hadn’t eaten yet today. “Sure, what’s your special today?” The cooks always worked with the menu Rory and Conor thought up, but were allowed an additional special every day.
“Just homemade mini tacos today,” Mike said with a purposeful chuckle. If there was one thing the O’Gallaghers grumbled about with the menu, it was non-American or non-Irish items.
“Ah, deviating from your Cheeseburger Shalaylees.” They were the most delicious thing on the menu; ground beef in a wonton wrapper boat, sprinkled with cheese and dipped in a Guinness barbeque sauce. Whenever Mike brought out the mini tacos—which were nearly the same thing, except with spices and sour cream—Conor went on and on about them and about how if he wanted a Mexican version of his menu, he’d change the name of the place.
But Conor and Rory agreed to give the cooks their menu item and, in all honesty, the main items sold more than the special items.
That, and Conor was a fair guy.
And he liked the mini tacos. I’ve seen him stuff his face with them a time or two—or twenty.
“I’ll do an order of those, sure,” I told him, but before I could find a place to sit, Rory came through the kitchen doors.
“I need to talk to you,” he said, looking at me but addressing no one in particular. Ass could at least use my name.
He stalked past me to the back office, assuming I’d follow.
I didn’t want to, but he was one of my bosses so on principle, I did.
I noticed it earlier—hell, I noticed it a few times over the year but I really appreciated it now—but the way Rory wore jeans that molded to his ass, making it mouth-watering, and the white long-sleeved Henley that still showed off the groves of his shoulders and back, further adding to his appeal. Where Conor was big and bulky in muscle, Rory had more of a swimmer’s body—but was definitely still well-endowed in the muscle department.
Rory only stood a few inches taller than me, but his muscle gave me that odd sense of security.
Which was incredibly disconcerting, seeing as I didn’t much like the guy.
When I entered the office, I deliberately left the door open but Rory took my wrist in his hand and pulled me from the door, shutting it one handedly. Before I could open my mouth about him manhandling me, I was pushed against the door and his mouth was on mine.
I opened my mouth and put my hands to his chest with the intent to pull away and tell him to stop, but instead I brushed my tongue against his probing one. My hands moved up and were in his two-months-past-due hair, fisting against the locks and holding his face to mine. My eyes were closed but I could feel him all around me, one hand on the side of my neck, curling over the back, and the other grabbing my hip, keeping me pulled close.
I hated him but, oh my God, the way he kissed. The way he took control of my body.
What in the ever loving hell was I doing? And why did I enjoy it so much?
I wanted to hate him. This was the man who dated women long enough to get them to leave raving reviews for O’Gallaghers, only to dump them twenty-four hours later.
This was the man who pretended to support his community, only to be a twelve-year old ass about it later, leaving terrible reviews and slandering the other companies.
This was the man who participated in those stupid pyramid schemes for weight loss companies, supporting the fit and beautiful, only to push down and be cruel to those who didn’t fit in with his ideal.
Rory’s social media presence was everywhere and in it, he went on and on about how sometimes making money took time, that being an entrepreneur took patience, and how every single person had something to offer, but his actions were always so incredibly different from his words.
These were the very reasons I didn’t like him.
He was a fake.
He was a fraud.
He was an asshole.
But my God, he kissed me like he wanted me.
I had to remind myself that this was simply him.
This was Rory O’Gallagher at his finest.
I needed to push away. I needed to put us back on our even ground.
Instead, I pulled him closer. I was going to hate myself in ten minutes, but I was going to enjoy him for the time being.
Rory
I was through with Emily Winters spitting nails at me.
I wanted her fire and fury utilized in a different way, and damn if she wasn’t proving she could hand it out in spades.
I’d been wiping down the bar while one of our newer bartenders, Jordan, manned the bar itself, when I heard her voice coming from the kitchen.
I’d always been drawn to her voice, even though whenever she used it for me it was cold. I could pull her voice out of a rambunctious crowd, always able to pin-point her by following the melodic notes in her tone.
For the second time that day, it was ice cold Emily Winters who gave me a raging hard-on. The morning wood didn’t count but when I held her against the door? That was all her, no matter what I told her.
So when I heard her voice, when her voice gave me this new reaction, I knew I wasn’t about to let her get away. I would take everything she gave me, and turn it into a passion burning so bright she wouldn’t know what hit her. She wouldn’t remember why she hated me.
Her hands were in my hair, her mouth fighting mine for control, and I was in fucking seventh heaven. Her willowy body molded against mine in a way that made me want to keep her close. Her hips lined up perfectly to mine and when she lifted her leg to wrap around my hip, opening her groin up to fit snug against mine, I had to stop myself from grinding into her, pushing her even further into the door.
Blindly, I stumbled for the double locks on the office door.
I walked in on Mia and Conor once. What I saw burned my retinas. Sweet Mia had a dirty side, and I would never be able to get that image out of my head.
There wasn’t any way in hell someone was walking in on Emily and me.
Unfortunately, my actions caused Emily to apparently fall back into the present, because with her hands still fisted in my hair, she pulled my head back and stared at me, mouth open, chest heaving as she fought for air.
She stared.
And stared.
And stared some more. It was a little unnerving.
Still, I didn’t break the silence. I wanted her with my entire fucking being and I wasn’t about to let my mouth run and have her run in response.
I expected her back
lash. To be honest, I expected a knee in the nuts.
I didn’t get either.
“Once.”
“Once?” I repeated, my eyes searching hers and dropping to her mouth. She licked her lips before continuing, making me groan out loud.
“One time, Rory O’Gallagher. And then I’m going back to hating you.”
Not giving her room to change her mind, I grabbed her ass and hoisted her up, pulling her clothed pussy close to my hard cock as she wrapped both legs around me. She lowered her mouth back to mine as I made my way to the couch.
I rearranged my hands so one cupped her ass, freeing my other to grab my wallet from my back pocket. I tossed it down on the couch as I sat, and when she rolled her hips over me, I moaned into her mouth. Fucking heaven.
I wanted my hands on her skin, all over her body. I quickly pulled her shirt up and off over her head, our mouths parting for only the mere seconds it get rid of the garment. Her mouth immediately fused back to mine, her tongue sliding swiftly against my own. I wasn’t able to truly appreciate the fact that she didn’t wear a bra, but my hands quickly found purchase against her slight chest.
Emily was built like a dancer, willowy and toned. She was tall, but everything else on her was small. Her hips. Her waist. Her tits.
But her little nipples were rock hard against my palms as I rolled them. I slid my hands down so I could pluck at the taut peaks, rolling them simultaneously between my index fingers and thumbs. Emily’s groin rolled against mine in time to her little mewls of pleasure, all muffled by my mouth.
I squeezed one of her nipples hard enough to have her rip her mouth from mine. She moaned out loud, her head dropping back, exposing the long column of her neck to me. I leaned in, scraping my lower teeth against her skin and sucked in a kiss right below her chin. I released some of the pressure my fingers had on her, gently rolling the nubs once again.
