Chapter 18
Lucy
King pulled me out of the event room, but apparently I wasn’t moving fast enough in my heels because suddenly, I was in his arms. I let out a shriek mixed with laughter as we stepped into the Boston night.
I wrapped my arms around his neck as he carried me bridal-style down the street toward the hotel. It wasn’t very far, and neither of us were interested in waiting for a car.
My mind spun as I tried to make sense of King’s change in behavior. The reserved, grumpy businessman had transformed into someone hot and passionate. Was he just that thrilled that the auction was over? Or was this going where I thought it was going?
He pressed his face into my loose curls and breathed in deeply.
Yep, this is definitely going where I think it is.
I squirmed in his arms as anticipation rocketed through me, sensitizing my skin.
I hadn’t had sex since everything fell apart with my exes.
After their betrayal, I’d felt disconnected from that part of myself, but my time with Wilder and Leo had awakened it again.
The fear of rejection still clawed at my chest, but I wanted King, craved the pleasure he could give me, and I was finally brave enough to risk being vulnerable to get what I wanted.
I ran my nose down his throat. He smelled so good, like the brightest orange blossom breeze mixed with the velvet night sky.
“I would say I can walk, but I don’t want to,” I murmured against his neck.
His chest shook with laughter. “Glad to know you approve of me carrying you.”
As we headed down the block to the hotel, a huge cheer erupted and the door to a somewhat dilapidated hole-in-the-wall Irish pub burst open.
A group of people wearing sports jerseys streamed onto the street around us, shouting and signing.
King’s hold on me tightened, but my chest bubbled with excitement. I loved a good party.
“Look at these two! Already dressed for a celebration!” shouted a man who looked to be around King’s age with dark brown hair and glasses framing bright green eyes. “Come celebrate Ireland’s victory with us!”
I poked King’s chest. “Oohhh, let’s do it. We can get a drink.”
King’s pained expression made it seem like I was asking him to jump in a vat of boiling oil.
“Come onnnnn.” I injected an omega whine into my tone and took a chance when I trailed my fingers along his firm jaw.
I was desperate for him to take me back to the hotel room and ravish me, but the sooner we got back, the sooner this night would be over.
I wanted to drag out my limited minutes with this alpha.
“You need some fun in your life. Besides, I won you, so it should be up to me.”
“You won me with my money,” he said dryly.
“Your money?” I tugged his credit card out from where I’d stuck it down my dress. His eyes lingered on the swell of my breasts, sending a thrill of satisfaction through me. “Not sure what you’re talking about. I’m pretty sure this is my credit card, and I want to treat my date to a beer.”
He shook his head, but he couldn’t hide his smile as he headed for the entrance. When he crossed the threshold, I raised my arms and shouted, “Go Ireland!” The crowd cheered.
“Do you even know what team they’re talking about?” King asked. His lips were right by my ear, which was the only way I could hear him as folk music and laughter swirled around us. The malty sweetness of Guinness hung in the air.
I grinned. “I don’t even know what sport.”
King’s chest shook with laughter. We squeezed through the crowd until we got to the bar. He gently set me down on one of the few open stools.
The bartender spotted us right away. “We’ve got some newcomers!” he said in a thick Irish accent. “Welcome to Finnegan’s. What can I get the pretty lady?”
I couldn’t hear King’s growl over the crowd, but I certainly felt it as he banded his arms around me, pulling me flush and tight against his vibrating chest. My panties were soaked with slick, and I doubted my de-scenter would last long if he kept this up.
I was on the edge of losing control. I wanted him to cup my breasts, lift my skirt, and thrust his thick fingers inside me before bending me over the bar top and taking me.
Get it together, Lucy. I wasn’t even into public activities, but I’d also never been around an alpha like King…or Wilder. They made my exes look like pathetic little-boy alphas.
The bartender’s smile widened as his eyes flicked over my head to King and then back to me.
“What do you recommend?” I asked.
“A sweet omega like you might like a Nutty Irishman. It’s sweet and creamy.” He winked and King snarled.
I snorted at the name. “Who wouldn’t love a Nutty Irishman? I’ll give it a try.”
“And for you?” he asked King.
“Guinness.”
The bartender made a gesture like he was tipping an imaginary hat and started working on our drinks.
I patted the stool beside me, but King stayed standing, spinning me so I was facing him. His arms bracketed my body as he loomed over me with his muscular chest, potent scent, and stern expression. It was a move that could have left me feeling trapped, but all I felt was excited pleasure.
He leaned even closer, skimming his lips along my nose and cheeks. I shuddered as his scent overwhelmed me. “You’re having fun toying with me, aren’t you, baby?”
“Maybe.”
He chuckled, the sound going straight to my core. “Enjoy your fun, little omega, because your ass will pay for it tonight.”
More slick drenched my underwear, and I needed to be careful or I would leave a wet spot on the chair.
King’s nostrils flared and he let out a low groan as he ran his nose down the side of my neck. Someone cleared their throat loudly behind us, pulling us apart, but not before I felt his tongue against my skin.
King caught the drinks the bartender slid across the glossy wooden bar. I had no idea what was in mine, but it was topped with whipped cream so it had to be good. I took a sip and hummed happily at the perfect blend of hazelnut and Baileys.
I turned and gave the bartender a little wave of thanks, and King’s large hand landed on my thigh, squeezing tight. This level of possessiveness was definitely a red flag, but I couldn’t bring myself to care.
King took a long drink of his beer, maintaining eye contact with me the whole time. My cheeks flushed hot and I sipped my drink to keep myself from saying something inappropriate. The air between us was charged with anticipation. When it got to be too much, I blurted out, “Let’s dance.”
I didn’t give him a chance to refuse, grabbing his hand and pulling him onto the small dance floor in the center of the bar.
“Brat. You’re supposed to be staying off your ankle.”
“You can hold me up.”
His arm banded tight around my waist, supporting most of my weight as he effortlessly spun me around to the beat of the music.
I’d taken dance classes as a little girl, but I’d been more focused on chatting with my friends and flipping through the costume magazines to learn anything.
But King? He moved like he’d done this a thousand times.
We quickly caught the attention of the others on the dance floor, and they cheered as they formed a ring around us.
I felt like we were Jack and Rose on the Titanic, dancing in our too-fancy clothes and having the night of our lives.
“Who knew you were so talented?” I laughed as he spun me around again, my feet skimming against the floor.
He tightened his hold, and that’s when I felt it—his hard cock pressed against my stomach.
I buried my face in his neck and breathed him in, his scent deep with arousal.
He cursed and moved his hands to my ass, cupping hard before lifting me off the ground.
The slit in my dress allowed me enough movement to wrap my legs around him as he carried me off the dance floor to the hoots and shouts of the onlookers.
He headed to a dark corner of the bar, his huge hands palming my ass. “Have you had your fun, baby girl?”
I perfumed, and there was so much slick between my legs now I was worried it would drip down my thighs. “Not if that means there will be no more fun tonight.”
His hand trailed up my front, his fingers brushing lightly over my breast before collaring my throat. “Oh, the fun’s just getting started.”