Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Lochlan
He knew something was wrong even before he opened his eyes.
Years of honed instincts kicked in, his other senses surveying his surroundings and coming up empty. Couldn’t feel the heat of her, the weight of her pressed against his side. Couldn’t smell the lavender in her hair or the tangy bodywash on her skin.
Sitting up in bed, he scanned the room for any sign of her. Even the mountains of food he’d ordered the night before had been whisked away before they’d fallen asleep with promises from the staff it wouldn’t go to waste.
Not a single fucking sign of her remained. Almost as if she’d been a ghost. Or a very vivid, very hot dream.
But she hadn’t been either of those things. He could still taste the way her pussy had flooded his mouth when she’d come, could still feel her soft skin beneath his hand. His babygirl had been stunningly, achingly real.
And now she was gone.
Fuck.
Throwing off the covers, he stalked to the bathroom for a quick piss and to brush his teeth before getting dressed to head home.
But as he was gathering the clothes he’d shed the night before, a glimpse of red lace caught his eye. Picking the panties up from the floor, he pressed them to his nose, closing his eyes as he inhaled the spicy scent of her.
Proof she’d existed, and she’d tasted just as good as he remembered.
He tucked the panties into his pocket for later. Perhaps he’d take a page from the storybooks and drive all around the town, the county, the fucking state if he had to, until he found the gorgeous blonde who fit them.
Not that he’d actually need them, as her face was imprinted on his mind and there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d ever forget it.
But the thought of finding her again and watching her blush her way through trying on the panties before he put her over his knee and used the pretty red lace as a guide for the color her ass should be by the time he was done went a long way toward smoothing his ruffled feathers.
In the lobby, the front desk girl flashed him a bright smile. “I hope you enjoyed your stay.”
The front desk. Of course. Hadn’t his babygirl told him she’d used her connections from when she’d worked here to get a key to his room?
Plastering on his best killer smile, he made his way to the desk. “Morning…” He glanced down at her name tag and bumped up the wattage on his smile. “Darla. I was hoping you could help me.”
Darla was pretty enough with wide brown eyes and a riot of curls pulled up in a messy bun atop her head that it was likely nearly every straight man with a pulse flirted with her at least a little. And still, her cheeks went pink and her smile turned shy. “What can I do for you, sir?”
Bumping up the Ireland in his voice, he leaned on the counter, into her. “I met a woman here last night. She said she used to work here and I’m ashamed to say I lost the card she gave me with her information on it. I’m really hoping you can help me find her.”
“Oh, I’m not sure I can do that. We can’t give out our guests’ information.”
“Aye, I know that, lass.” No self-respecting Irishman actually went around calling women ‘lass’, but the ladies went crazy for it all the same. “But she wasn’t a guest. Said she was just meeting a client here. She was tall, curves for days, blonde with big red glasses. Ringing any bells?”
“Ah… sorry, not really.”
It had been a long shot, but the irritation still pricked at the back of his skull. Hiding his aggravation with another smile, he tapped his hand on the counter. “More’s the pity. Thank you for your help anyway… Darla.”
Forcing himself not to stomp out of the hotel, he made his way out to Tiernan’s corvette, tossed his bag in the back seat and climbed inside.
As much as he wanted to just head straight home, he detoured by Killian’s house because he knew his cousin would expect a full report of his recon mission.
So he’d go to Killian’s, give his report, and then dive straight into the search for his missing babygirl.
Killian was exactly where he’d expected to find him, seated behind the mahogany desk that had once belonged to his father, Lochlan’s Uncle Declan.
Even after more than a decade with Killian at the helm of their family enterprise, it was still something of a jolt to see him there instead of Uncle Declan.
Glancing up from the computer screen he’d been scowling at, Killian smiled, the gesture warm with welcome as he leaned back in his chair. “Lochlan. I wasn’t expecting you until later. What has you out of bed so early? Or is it a whom rather than a what?”
Dropping into one of the plush visitors’ chairs, Lochlan scowled at his cousin. “Do you want to hear about Josh or not?”
Dark eyebrows winged up to Killian’s hairline, but he didn’t push the issue. He simply inclined his head once in acknowledgement. “I would. Go on.”
“Josh doesn’t know shit about shit.”
“Succinct, as always.” Killian’s fingers tapped against the sleek wood of his desk, the only outward display of his aggravation. “You’re sure?”
“Very sure. If the Russians are using him, he doesn't know it. Which is still entirely possible, considering he wouldn’t know his ass from a hole in the ground if you wrote him a map.”
“Dammit. Another fucking dead end.” Killian blew out a breath, but his fingers kept up their tap-tap-tapping against the wood. “I appreciate you taking the time to go down that rabbit hole for me. I know social events aren’t exactly your… thing.”
“They aren’t. But it wasn’t all bad.”
A slow smile curved his cousin’s lips. “Oh? Would this have anything to do with the whom or what that had you out of bed so bright and early this fine morning?”
“You know damn well it was a woman, so cut the act, Kill. And yes. We had a night of the hottest fucking sex I’ve ever had and then this morning… poof.”
“Poof?”
“Yeah. Poof. She just disappeared in the middle of the night. I might think I’d imagined it except she left her panties behind.”
Killian rolled his eyes. “Ah, well. At least you’ll have your memories.”
“Oh, I plan to have more than my memories. I’m going to track her sexy ass down and teach her what happens to naughty babygirls who disappear on their Daddies.”
He hadn’t realized Killian's brows could actually go higher, but they somehow managed to. “Daddy, huh? That’s a new one for you.”
“What can I say, you must be rubbing off on me.”
At that, Killian grinned, wide and smug. “About time. Do you have any leads?”
“Had one, didn’t pan out. But I’ll find her.”
“Between you and Tiernan, I have no doubt. Speaking of, have the two of you made any headway on our hacker?”
“No.” And it was still an itch under his skin that whoever the hacker was, he’d managed to evade them for this long. “Not a fucking trace of him. It’s like he’s a goddamn ghost.”
“Well then hire an exorcist. I’m getting a bit tired of moving our money around, and with the feds breathing down our necks the last thing I need is them taking a hard look at our finances.”
Irritation crawled up his spine, but he shrugged it off. It wasn’t Killian’s fault he was feeling antsy because the love of his life had given him the slip and he’d failed not one but two assignments he’d been given. “Sure thing, boss.”
Some of his irritation must have come through in his voice though, because Killian sighed and rubbed at his forehead. “Sorry. I’m feeling out of sorts because things aren’t going our way right now, but I shouldn’t be taking it out on you. If you say the hacker’s a fucking ghost, then he’s a ghost.”
The apology went a long way toward soothing his own irritation. “Just because he’s a ghost doesn’t mean he can’t be found. We’ll get him.”
“I appreciate you. Get out of here and go see if you can’t track down your mystery girl.”
He didn’t have to be told twice. Rising from his chair, he gave Killian a nod and strode from the office. He’d just started the engine on the ‘vette when his phone rang and his twin’s face appeared on the screen.
“I’m on my way with the fucking car, you impatient bastard,” he snarled at the screen built into the car’s dash.
“Good, but that’s not why I’m calling.” Amusement tinged his brother’s voice. “I have a much more pressing question.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“Why the fuck am I being tagged in a post with a picture of you in bed with my ex-girlfriend’s daughter?”
Daisy
As expected, her mother called within five minutes of the post going live. Daisy ignored the first three calls, ten texts, and one screaming voicemail.
Swiping open her app, she grinned at the picture and accompanying caption.
I finally got to call him Daddy.
She was pretty fucking proud of that one, considering how many times her mother had lamented what a good father he would have made. And it wasn’t even a lie, considering that was the only thing she’d actually called him all night.
At the fourth call, she finally gave in and answered the phone, doing her best to ignore the absolute pounding of her heart against her ribs. “Hello, Mother.”
“What the fuck, Margaret?”
Daisy grimaced. She hated her given name, and her mother damn well knew it.
Which was exactly why she chose that over the nickname her grandmother had given her as a child when she was pissed or just wanted to get under Daisy’s skin.
“Funny, I’m pretty sure that’s exactly the question I asked you when I walked in you fucking my fiancé in my bed. ”
“Is that what this is? Some petty idea of revenge?”
“You can call it that if you like. I simply call it returning the favor.”
She braced for more swearing, more ugly names and accusations.
But all she heard was laughter.
“Oh my god. You think you’re so fucking smart with all your fancy computer work. But you don’t know a goddamn thing about anything, do you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Honey, if you’re going to try and get revenge on me… you should at least make sure you get the right twin.”
“What?” No. No. Impossible. She’d done her research. The corvette that had shown up at the hotel that night clearly belonged to one Tiernan O’Rourke.
“I don’t blame you for not being able to tell them apart,” her mother cooed in that sickeningly sweet way she had. “But I know something you don’t know.”
“And what’s that?”
“My Tiernan has a scar just above his right eye. I know, because I gave it to him when I hit him in the face with a fucking vase for lying to me about sleeping with that bitch Molly O’Connor.”
Fingers trembling, Daisy pulled up Tiernan’s Instagram account. Like all the O’Rourkes, he kept it rather sparse. But there were several pictures of him and sure enough, there was the scar her mother was talking about, right above his right eye.
A few more pictures down she found one of him with his twin, Lochlan. And looking into Lochlan’s dark, twinkling eyes, she knew without a doubt that was the man she’d spent the night calling Daddy.
She’d put everything she’d had into seducing him. She’d let him debase her, humiliate her, hurt her in ways she’d never even dreamed of because she’d thought she would finally get one over on her mother.
And she hadn’t even gotten the right fucking brother.
The End
Lochlan and his mysterious babygirl will find each other again in the Ruthless O’Rourkes saga, which starts with Killian’s story, King of Sin.