Chapter 43
forty-three
DAGR
Every talk he’d given himself drained from his brain and straight to his dick, apparently, because the second Dagr thought about moving beyond friendship with Bébhinn, his body and mind were in complete alignment.
“Bébhinn.”
Her name leaving his mouth, her eyes finding his, their game of skirting around their attraction—over.
She twisted her body on the couch until she was on her knees, and with his help, he slipped her body over his lap until her knees rested against the side of his thighs.
She leaned forward and held her lips shy of touching his. “Dagr,” she murmured, mingling their breaths and dragging a moan from him.
His fingers went from her hips to her ass, pulling their centers even tighter before he closed the distance between their mouths.
Their breaths mingled, warm and unsteady, as Bébhinn’s fingers traced the line of his jaw.
He met her gaze, his eyes searching, before pressing his lips to hers—soft at first, then deepening as the moment charged.
Her hands slid over his shoulders, anchoring herself to him, while his arms encircled her waist, holding her close.
The world faded, leaving only the hush of their movement and the shared electricity in the space between them.
As his sex grew hard, her hips began to glide up and down his length. He despised himself for not having a conversation with her before they changed their status, but now that she was in his lap, and he was sucking her tongue down his throat, there was no room for heartfelt discussions.
She broke the kiss and leaned back while tugging the hem of his shirt until he crossed his arms and grasped it to tear it over his head. She gasped as she took in his chest, having never seen his tattoos. He wondered whether she would like them.
Her hands were instantly on his bare skin, tracing the Welsh dragons that were surrounded by knotwork and spirals. Feeling her delicate fingers lightly skimming across his chest, shoulders, arms, and abs set his skin on fire.
“You’ve been holding out, Dagr,” she grinned. “I don’t know whether to stare at your muscles or ink.”
“As long as you keep touching me, I don’t care what you look at.” He leaned forward and retook her mouth. Their lips and tongues warred, unable to get close enough or deep enough to give them relief.
Her fingers barely skimmed the top of his joggers, but his stomach clenched tightly in anticipation. He rubbed his thumbs over her sides under the bottom of her t-shirt, moving the fabric up inch by slow inch.
She glanced to the side when her phone began vibrating with text notifications. She ignored them, thank God.
“When did you know you wanted more than friendship with me?” she asked after turning back.
“The cave.”
Her eyes shot up in surprise.
“Me too. For you, that is. So why haven’t you ever…I don’t know, said anything, tried something?”
“There are a few reasons,” he began, knowing it was too soon to share that he was ready to settle down with one woman.
He didn’t want to scare her off. He could tell her the biggest reason, though.
“Our age difference.” He expected her to say something like, “Oh, I don’t mind,” or “You don’t look old. ” Her laughter took him by surprise.
“What’s so funny?” he asked.
“You worrying about age.” She sighed out the last of her mirth, leaning forward to kiss him again before adding, “My parents were much further apart.”
Her lips found his again, and within seconds, they were both panting. He dragged her t-shirt off, his mouth watering at the sight of her high, round breasts. She was wearing a soft, nude bra that was sheer enough to see her dark, puckered nipples.
“Christ, you’re stunning.” He slipped one narrow strap off her shoulder, wanting to slow down the pace and unwrap her leisurely. She moaned when he licked her nipple through the bra and moaned louder when he uncovered one breast and sucked her deep into his mouth.
“Dagr,” she whimpered. She cupped his head, encouraging him to stay right where he was. He pulled the second strap down, freeing her breasts completely, and started sucking and kneading and pinching and pulling until her breath became frantic.
He loved that she was so sensitive. She was close to falling apart from breast play alone. Without breaking contact, he rotated their bodies until her back was on the couch, and he was covering her with his body.
“I want to—” He was interrupted by her phone ringing and vibrating its way across the table.
“Noooo,” she wailed when he sat up to grab it. He handed her the phone as she readjusted her bra. “My friends and mom know where I’m at. They wouldn’t bother me on a Saturday night if it weren’t important. Sorry.” She grimaced, unlocking her phone.
“I’ll live. Barely,” he added, earning a smile from her. He watched her read messages from where he sat at her feet, massaging her calves. “Is everything okay?”
“It’s Mags. Lord, save me,” she sounded more exasperated than upset. “This is embarrassing.”
Doubly curious now, he asked, “What did she say?”
Shaking her head, she told him, “Apparently, my brothers found out I’m staying with you this weekend, well, not with you,” she corrected, “but with a stranger.”
“Are they coming here?” The thought was even embarrassing to him, but it was no less than he deserved for not formally meeting them prior to laying his hands on Bébhinn.
“According to Mags, she sought out Jonathan, who was on a date, and forced him to tell her what Bran and Pat know. He’d been trying to get a date with that chick for months, and Mags knew it.
“Jon was pissed, but he told her that his dad and Bran visited him and Daniel and said that as soon as I got back to town, he wanted them to shadow me until they could figure out who I was seeing.
“Don’t worry, though, I’ll handle the assholes when I get home. Good news. Mom approves and didn’t tell them anything. That’s all I care about.”
When she reached behind her back and unclasped her bra, dropping it on the table next to her phone, he suddenly gave zero shits about her brothers.
“I hope that didn’t crush the mood,” she said right before his mouth met hers in a hungry rush.
“I think you can feel that it didn’t,” emphasizing his meaning by pressing his hard shaft between her legs.
He lay on top of her with only his thin pants and her shorts separating them.
Holding her hands above her head, he kissed his way down her neck and licked between her bare breasts.
He sucked above her nipple, wanting to leave his mark before moving lower.
He licked and nipped his way down her stomach, finally letting go of her hands so he could hook his fingers in her shorts and panties. She was already writhing beneath him. He planned on making her scream his name as soon as he got his tongue—
At the exact moment he heard the door open to his flat, he heard his father’s booming voice. “Son, Christ, but you better be home. I’ve worn my fingers to the bone trying to reach you.”
Bébhinn yelped and tried to scramble out from underneath him. He gripped each of her arms. “Be still. It’s my damn father.” He dragged his t-shirt off the back of the couch and quickly shoved it toward her before standing up and going to the kitchen, where his dad was rummaging through the fridge.
When he noticed his son, he slammed the door and rounded on Dagr. “You are here, you bast—” he stopped mid-curse before saying, “Have you been at the porn? At least put your fucking hard-on away. My poor eyes, boy,” he growled at the same time stifled laughter from the living room could be heard.
His dad’s incredulous look would have been comical if Bébhinn hadn’t heard the asshole discussing his dick. He didn’t blame his dad for assuming he was alone. He knew Dagr had been taking a break from dating.
He felt his whole body flush and heat prickle his face when Bébhinn joined them. She was completely dressed in her clothes and, without batting an eyelash, handed Dagr his t-shirt.
“For your modesty, Dagr,” she grinned before sticking her hand out to his dad. “I’m Bébhinn O’Faolain from Dublin. You must be Mr. Griffiths.”
His dad’s handshake had never looked weaker as he stared at the beautiful, barefoot woman standing before him.
Clearing his throat—twice—his father strengthened his grip.
“Ulf. Hugh O’Faolain?” he asked, having no idea of his passing.
“I’ve met your father. Well,” he corrected, “not in person, but he and I were on a few conference calls dealing with some land that Trinity owns. The land held numerous minerals and flora that they wished to preserve for their students to use for study. How is Hugh? I appreciated his zero-bullshit way of problem solving.”
The brief, wide-eyed glance she threw Dagr’s way broke his heart. “Dad—” he started.
Bébhinn spoke over him. “He passed at the end of last year.” She cleared her throat. “I’m happy to know you knew him, even briefly. I’ve told Dagr more than once that you two seem to have a few similar qualities.” She smiled, trying to lessen the uncomfortable news.
His dad instantly sobered. “Forgive me. I didn’t know. You’ll never stop missing him if he was half the man I thought he was.”
She blinked several times, her lips twisting briefly as she regulated her emotions. “He was that and more. Thank you, Ulf.” And then she shared, “You know, your son spent the night in a cave with me during a snowstorm on one of Snowdonia’s peaks?”
He gave his son a sharp look. “I didn’t know. It seems my son is full of secrets these days.”
Dagr decided to end the exploration for more information, saying, “I didn’t expect to see you until Monday.”
His dad’s face turned ruddy with anger. “That old bastard Williams is trying to buy the land near the reserve that he bloody well knows I want. I was only holding off until things were settled with the reserve.”
“Are you kidding me? Williams is a prick. Jesus, that man couldn’t care less about the countryside. He just hates you.”
“I’m aware,” his dad replied. “I want that property to build a family cabin for us. Can you block his offer?”
Dagr looked at Bébhinn, seeing his romantic evening slipping away. She looked back at him and shrugged, smiling. If anyone could understand family, it was her.
“I have a million messages to return before bed anyway. Please,” she said, briefly touching his hand, which his dad caught if the smirk was any indication, “get your dad that property. Be a pirate, not a pussy.” She laughed, and so did his dad. “That’s one of my brother Patrick’s favorite sayings.”
He stopped her as she turned to leave and gripped her hand despite his father’s presence. When she looked up at him, he pressed a brief kiss to her lips and said, “Thank you for understanding. I’ll make it up to you.”
“I know.” It was all she said before walking out.
“You’ve been holding out, Dag,” his father growled.
He and his father were as close as brothers and shared almost everything. Dagr wasn’t sure why he hadn’t spoken of Bébhinn.
“Aren’t the O’Faolains the family Lee wants you to help on a case?”
“Among other things,” he replied, purposefully being vague. He knew Lee wanted him to take over his firm so he could retire, which would be a hell of a lot more than helping on a case.
“Get me my fucking property, son, and then tell me why I found you humping O’Faolain’s only daughter on the couch.”