Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Cormac
I can’t believe Joey’s standing in front of me at McGinty’s, and I can’t believe I just insinuated rolling around while fucking her. She might not realize it, but the guys are already giving me shite. They’re going to bust my balls as soon as she’s gone, but for right now, they’ve just got their shite eating grins in place. For anyone who doesn’t know my family, they appear charming. I could throat punch them all.
My gaze meets Dillan’s. My expression doesn’t change except my stare gets more intense. He knows they’re pissing me off, and they’re about a breath away from pushing me too far. He nudges Finn who glances at me. Seamus notices because his gaze darts to me.
“It was nice meeting you, Jocelyn. I need to get back to the bar.”
Finn excuses himself with a smile and nod to her friends, who barely keep their drool from puddling on the table. Finn’s the pretty one.
“Mair’s going to wonder where I went. I came out to get her some 7-Up.”
Dillan offers the same smile and nod before he strides to the bar to get his pregnant wife something to settle her afternoon sickness. So much for just mornings. The poor woman’s sick around the clock. Seamus appears in no hurry, which might be a blessing in disguise. He’s keeping the women occupied while I come up with something to say to Joey. I know that won’t last much longer since I see the flush starting at the base of his neck. It matches mine since neither of us enjoy striking up conversations with strangers.
I suddenly feel tongue tied and regret chasing my cousins off. Neither of them is as shy as Seamus and me. We’re the most introverted of the cousins, even if our parents are the least introverted of their siblings. I need to come up with something since I already know Joey’s been here before. The ball’s in my court, and it’s rolling out of bounds.
“Did I interrupt a meeting or something?” Joey’s gaze sweeps the bar before glancing down at my shirt, which is far more casual than she’s seen me in before.
“No. I stopped by to read some documents Finn asked me about. Dillan’s wife was going to help out tonight since Finn’s short a waitress, but she’s not feeling well. Dillan swung by to check on her.”
Check on her means he’ll insist she go home where he can hover and practically force feed her saltines. He’s no better than Finn was a few months ago when his wife, Ally, was going through morning sickness.
“That’s sweet. But if she’s sick…” Joey watches a bartender deliver a tray of drinks.
“It’s morning sickness, nothing contagious.”
Her eyes widen as she nods, then she shoots a sympathetic glance toward the hallway Dillan disappeared down. Sympathy or empathy? Does she know how Mair feels? I didn’t think about that before just now.
“Jocelyn, we’re going to play darts.” One woman stands next to Joey as the other two slide out of the booth.
I know they hid their purses under their jackets. Fortunately for them, no one here would dare steal anything from anyone unless my brother, cousins, or I ordered it. Anywhere else, it would be foolish. As though thieves don’t know people hide shite like that.
“Do you play?” Joey watches her friends walk to the corner where the boards are on the wall.
“This bar was my nana’s before Finn inherited it. I practically grew up in it since Nana watched all of us after school until our parents could pick us up.” I can’t believe I shared that.
“But do you play? Or should I ask if you’re any good?”
“I can hold my own. Do you play pool?”
“Yeah.”
There’s a table free, so we walk over. I watch her rack the balls after we flip to see who’ll go first, and I wonder if she’s a ringer. Good thing we’re only playing for the quarters we each put down. She’s about to win twenty-five cents.
“Solids.”
I nod and speak, having just watched her sink three stripes with the first shot. She moves her way around the table, and it’s obvious she’s not just a natural. She’s had practice. I step back to let her shoot where I just stood. Her arse is directly in front of me, and I’d love nothing more than to grab her hips and sink into her cunt.
It’s the first shot she’s missed. When she stands and glances over her shoulder, I watch her swallow. Maybe she was more unsettled than she looked. It’s crowded enough to justify how my body grazes against hers as I step around her. It’s my turn to lean over the table with my cue. I pray I don’t make an arse of myself as I inhale. I’m handy with a pool stick, but it’s usually not when I’m trying to get a ball in a pocket. I make my target, but only that ball. I breathe a little easier. I move on to the next one and miss. So much for impressing her.
Her eyes narrow as she steps in front of me. “You aren’t going to throw this, are you?”
“No. I said I was practically raised here and played darts. I didn’t say I played pool or darts well.” I grin, but my heart stops as I wait for her to laugh at me, not with me.
I’m excellent at darts because my dad wouldn’t teach me how to throw a knife until I could hit the bullseye with precision every time I threw a dart. Not a family story I’m sharing. I’m not as good at pool because I think it’s boring and rarely play. But it was the only thing open to give me a chance to stay near Joey.
She chuckles, and I don’t feel like it’s at my expense so much as appreciating a self-deprecating sense of humor.
“I’ll take a win where I can get it. I doubt there’s much you don’t excel at.”
She’s on the opposite side of the table from me now as she leans forward. Her top isn’t loose, but there’s just enough space between the material and her skin for me to have a stellar view of her perfect tits. I almost forget it’s my turn when she misses because I’m too busy daydreaming about fucking her.
I pull my head out of my arse and take the shot. I do better than I expected and sink three more, which ties us. Someone bumps into her when she walks past me. It knocks her into me, and my arm goes around her waist. Our gazes lock, and I want nothing more than to kiss her. From the way her gaze darts to my lips, I think she feels the same way. If I don’t ease her away from me, she’s going to feel my semi-erect cock shoot to full mast.
“Sorry about that.”
“Not your fault.” I ease my arm away until just my hand rests on her waist.
She pulls away, but the same arselick knocks into her again. He’s drunk and being obnoxious. I reach out with the hand holding the cue stick and tap on the guy’s shoulder blade with my knuckles. It’s a light tap, I swear. But he spins around with plenty to say.
“What the fuck, asshole? Touch me again, and?—”
He takes a moment to shift his gaze from Joey to me. When he does, he wants to swallow his tongue. His head jerks back, and his mouth hangs open.
“Sorry. I meant nothing by it.” His tongue practically trips over his teeth as he rushes to apologize.
“You’re cut off.”
He thinks he grew a pair. “Mind your own fucking business. You don’t tell me?—”
“Yeah, I do.” I signal two bouncers already easing their way through the crowd to me.
“What the fu?—”
“Stop swearing.” If he were my mother’s son, he’d already have a bar of Irish Spring between his cheeks.
“Get your motherfucking hands off me.”
He tries to pull away from a bouncer and winds up driving his elbow into Joey’s shoulder. I barely moved her in time to keep it from nailing her jaw.
“You’re going to let Mikey and Tommy escort you outside after you pay your tab. You do not want me to help you out, and you do not want my cousin—who owns this establishment—to help you out.”
“It’s not my fault the bitch was standing in the way.”
The man has a fucking death wish. Mikey and Tommy are my second cousins through my dad. Their parents are just as strict about no swearing in front of women and children as mine are. They each grab an arm, and Mikey’s shoulder goes into fuckwad’s chest as he pushes him away from Joey and me. It looks more like he’s steering the douchebag, but I guarantee it feels like a linebacker’s charging into him. The NFL scouted Mikey, but he blew out his knee at the first season opener.
“Are you all right?”
I keep my voice low as I ease Joey’s hand from her arm and rub her shoulder. She nods, but she looks anything but fine.
“Joey, answer me. Are you all right?”
I infuse a little command in my voice, and her gaze immediately shifts downward. I feel like an arsehole until her body leans into mine.
“Yes, Cormac.” Yes, sir .
That’s what it sounded like she wanted to say. The way her gaze remains averted. She drank the beer she bought while we played, and I got her a second one she’d just finished before our game got so rudely interrupted. My cue’s leaning against the table where I placed it before squaring off with the drunk piece of shite and telling him to leave. My free hand goes to Joey’s hip, and I squeeze. She doesn’t react, so I squeeze harder.
“Are you telling me the truth, cailín ?”
She raises her gaze to meet mine for a moment, uncertain what the Irish word means. But she looks down a second later.
“Yes, Cormac.”
I test the water a little more when I give her hip a tighter squeeze before snagging her wrist and pressing her good arm behind her back. Her body sways into mine as the hand on her shoulder slides down to capture her other wrist. I barely push it back before she crosses her wrists at the small of her back. She doesn’t wince, and she didn’t favor her bad arm while playing pool. I’m relieved her injury wasn’t as bad as I feared.
“Would you be a good girl and tell me if you weren’t?”
“Yes, Cormac.” She whispers her answer on an exhale.
Holy fuck.
“Look at me, Joey.” I wait for her. “Are you someone’s sub?”
She meets my gaze. Is that relief? She shakes her head. I lower my head to whisper in her ear.
“You don’t want to find out what happens to naughty little subs who make their master’s repeat themselves each time they ask a question.”
“I’m sorry, sir.”
I don’t date. I fuck. I don’t have girlfriends, but I did have a long-term sub.
“Are you tipsy, cailín ?”
“A little. What does that mean, sir?”
“Little girl.”
“I’m not a Little, Cormac.”
She gets serious fast, snapping out of whatever alcohol haze she’d been in.
“I know you aren’t. I wouldn’t be interested if you were. You didn’t mind me asking if you’d be a good girl a moment ago.”
“You didn’t say a good little girl.”
“That word aside, how tipsy are you?”
“Not as tipsy as a second ago.” Her clear eyes and sharp gaze tell me she’s not exaggerating.
“We’re going to finish our game, then you’re going to finish having a good time with your friends. If you want more by the time you’re ready to leave, tell me.”
“I’m ready to leave. I want more.” The words fly out of her mouth.
I know who’s around me, and I know who’s paying attention to us and who’s not. Her friends definitely are. My back’s broad enough no one can see me holding her hands behind her back, but they can see my extended arms. I let go of her wrists and withdraw my hands. She doesn’t move.
“If we do this, you need to know it’s not a prelude to me asking you out for dinner and a movie.”
“It’s a one-night stand?”
“Not absolutely. I don’t date, Joey. I’m not a monk, but I don’t do attachments. I had a sub until a couple months ago. I was with her for three years, and nothing ever became romantic. If you’re looking for more than that, we’re not a match.”
“Are you looking for a new sub?”
“Yes.”
What? No!
I told myself I didn’t want a new D/s arrangement right now. I wanted to enjoy being unattached. If I wanted to fuck, I’d go to the club I belong to. I didn’t see Joey as a potential sub only a few minutes ago. I never imagined she’d ask if I was in the market for one.
“Sir, test me tonight. If we like it, then we go from there.”
“How long ago was your last Dom?”
“Four months. I was with him for a year, but it wasn’t fulfilling.”
I cock an eyebrow and wait.
“He wanted to make it romantic, and I didn’t.”
“Was it monogamous?”
“Yes, except for when we went to the club where we met.”
As I gaze down at her, I know I don’t want to touch another woman. The idea is as off-putting as it gets. The idea of another man touching her in front of me makes me want to tear the imaginary guy’s head off. I didn’t have this visceral a reaction when I met my last sub or discussed our arrangement.
“Cormac, I don’t want to be with or have you see me with another guy. I enjoy threesomes, but I don’t need them. Maybe in the future, but right now—I—I don’t want the distraction.” She rushes to finish her thought.
“I won’t share you, Joey. Not now. Not in the future. We’re both monogamous, or we’re nothing. If I find out you?—”
“Cormac, I won’t break my promise. If I find someone else I want to fuck, or if I find someone I want to date, I will end this. If you don’t want a threesome with a guy, then we won’t.”
“I don’t want a threesome period. If you want a woman to join us?—”
“No.”
That’s as definitive an answer as there ever was one.
“Good. I would have if that’s what you want, but I do not.”
She shifts to look around the bar and notices her friends are back at their table. I follow her gaze, and the three women watch us. They appear curious about our conversation, but they seem bored at being here.
“I don’t bring guys home, Cormac.”
“And I don’t bring women over.”
“The only way out of that impasse is a club. I belong to Cries and Whispers.”
We are definitely not going there. It’s a bratva owned club as of last year. I sold my silent quarter share because it’s one a few other syndicate couples enjoy, so none of my family will step foot in there. We know each other’s business and that we’re all kinky as fuck. But that doesn’t mean I need any of their nasty arses seeing me fuck.
“I belong to Obsidian.” And own a quarter.
So does Seamus because all the men my age in my family own significant silent shares of the best clubs to have access to their confidential member lists. It pays to know where the rich and powerful go to get their rocks off.
Her eyes widen. It’s one of the most exclusive BDSM clubs in the country, and it’s one that caters to just about any and every idea. If anything’s unavailable, it will be within twelve hours. The wait list is six years long.
She glances at her friends before she nods. I step aside, and she hurries over to the women while I collect our two quarters and return the cues. I know people want the table, but no one dared come over to me and interrupt my conversation. The regulars know better, and after I kicked that dumb fuck out, even the random people aren’t interested in approaching me.
Me
I’m headed out with Jocelyn. I’m not available until the morning.
Seamus
Don’t feck it up.
Trust my brother’s immediate response to be words of encouragement.
Me
Bye
Seamus
Can you come down to Trenton with me tomorrow morning?
Me
Something come up?
Seamus
Yeah. Tiera’s mom is having a procedure done. T wants me with her, and I want you guarding her.
Things are still rocky with the Trenton mob. They’re our vassals and majorly fucked up with my sister-in-law. We don’t trust them, so Seamus won’t go down there without an extra bodyguard for Tiernan. It’s more of a flex on our part, but just in case any other syndicate thinks the O’Briens are weak and decides this is a good time to target them, I’ll be there to help. It wouldn’t surprise me if one of our cousins comes too.
Me
What time?
Seamus
9
Me
Got it
“They’re catching rides in a few minutes. I told them you’re taking me out, but we’re still making plans.”
Joey keeps her voice low as she comes back to where I’m waiting. I look over to Finn, who has the same sixth sense we all do about people watching us. He scans the bar until our gazes meet. I tilt my head slightly toward Joey, then turn my chin toward the door. I can imagine what he’d say if I was close enough to hear.
I put my hand at Joey’s lower back and usher her toward the front door. I don’t move my hand once we’re outside. It’s possessive and protective, and we both know it. But we’re not a couple, so I don’t take her hand or wrap my arm around her. She doesn’t ask where we’re going, trusting me. I lead her to my car and open her door, but before she gets in, I have this overwhelming need for our first kiss to not be at a sex club.