Chapter Five #2
Cillian chuckled. “We’re there all week, all weekend, too. Only day we’re not is Monday, it’s closed.”
“Good, I’ll come see you in action.”
“There are other ways you could see us in action.” Finn set his hand on my thigh and ran it upward, bunching the material of my dress that was luckily hidden beneath the table.
“Can I clear the table?” A waiter appeared.
I snapped my attention to him.
Cillian and Finn stayed close. Finn’s hand stayed on my thigh.
“Sure,” Cillian said. “Thanks.”
“Would you like the dessert menu?”
“What do you think, Rebecca?” Finn asked, his fingertips stroking the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. “Need more?”
“I…er…no, thank you. I’ve had plenty to eat.”
“Just the bill,” Cillian said.
“Certainly, sir.”
“You do know,” Finn murmured, “that we could address any other hungers that need satisfying.”
His warm breath left a trail of sensation, and my pussy quivered. I had many hungers, and I was sure he would be excellent at sating them. But tonight? Now? I wasn’t so sure. “We should go.” I gestured toward the door. “It’s hot in here.”
“Tell me about it.” He removed his hand and stood. “I’m about to combust.”
A few minutes later, we were outside the restaurant, Finn having picked up the bill.
I took a deep breath and tried to harness my libido. Much as getting naked and sweaty with two sexy guys sounded great after champagne and wine, it wasn’t really my style on a first date.
Oh, live a little, Rebecca.
I was at war with myself.
“Shall we get a cab or walk?” Cillian glanced up and down the darkening street.
“I don’t mind the walk,” I said, gesturing in the direction of home. “If you’re going that way, too.”
“We’re going whichever way you are.” Finn held out his arm.
I slipped my hand into the crook of his elbow, and we started walking.
There were a few people around, the pubs were closing and the brightly lit kebab and chip shops had a stream of stragglers.
A group of beer-loaded guys, loud and staggering, were heading our way. Cillian stopped talking while they passed by us.
“Hey you, sweet cheeks! Wanna ditch those assholes and come have fun with us?”
I glanced over my shoulder and saw they’d stopped and were ogling me. One outlined a woman’s curves with his hands then thrust his hips. There were five of them. The one who’d spoken was holding his groin and leering at me.
Adrenaline burst into my system, but I calmed it as best I could. I wasn’t alone. I was with Cillian and Finn. The men’s unwanted attention would come to nothing.
“Yeah you, sexy tight dress. Come on out with us, we’re off to Red Leather, we’ll show you a good time.” The guy thrust his hips back and forth with more vigor and mimicked spanking. “A real good time.”
My mouth dried. What the hell had sparked their interest in me? My dress was tight and sexy but not that over the top. Was it?
“Red Leather.” Finn huffed. “Yeah right, they’re way to pissed to get past reception.”
“Come on, babe, come be our lady in red,” another bloke called.
“Stay with Finn.” Cillian rested his hand on my shoulder. “I’ll handle this.”
“What? No. Let’s just walk away.” My heart rate rocketed. “They’re just drunk, that’s all.”
“Ain’t no one on this earth going to speak to you that way, Rebecca,” Cillian said then stepped away from me and up to the group.
They clapped and whooped, clearly desperate for a fight.
“Oh yeah, we’ve got a hard guy.”
They all laughed.
“Let’s go!”
“We should just leave,” I said again and tugging on Finn’s arm. “Make Cillian come with us, it’s not worth it.”
“But he’s right, Rebecca, we won’t have anyone speaking to you that way, in fact, Cillian should put him on the floor just for bloody looking at you.”
I could hear the anger in Finn’s voice; his words were clipped, his accent even more pronounced.
“There’s five of them,” I said.
“As if that matters.” Finn huffed.
“You think it’s respectful to speak to a lady like that, huh?” Cillian said, his arms hanging at his sides but his body tense, primed like a predator about to attack.
“What the fuck has it got to do with you if we admire a fine ass?” One guy—dark beard, yellow shirt—stepped forward. He was holding a bottle of beer. “You married to the bitch or something?”
Finn stiffened. “Eejit is going to get what’s coming.”
“Fuck,” I muttered, wishing for a cop car to drive past.
“I’ll tell you what it’s got to do with me, she’s my fucking woman, asshole. And I don’t appreciate you calling her names.”
Drunk Guy laughed. “Don’t fucking look like it.” He nodded my way. “She’s with him.”
“You’re going to apologize to her right now,” Cillian said.
“I ain’t apologizing to no one, and ain’t no twatty Irish dude gonna make me.
” In a sudden flash of aggression, he smashed his bottle of beer against the wall, taking the end off and creating a lethally sharp weapon.
He grinned manically and held it forward, toward Cillian.
“Come on then, think you’re tough, do you? ”
“Oh God, no.” I grappled for my phone, a fresh shot of adrenaline shooting into my system and making my hands shake. “We need to call the police.”
“No, no don’t do that.” Finn wrapped his hand around mine. “I promise it will be okay.”
“But—?”
“No bloody police.”
I had no idea what type of martial arts Cillian practiced. It wasn’t a subject I knew anything about. But I hoped he was as good at it as his brother seemed to think he was.
The guy suddenly lunged at Cillian, the broken bottle aimed forward, a wicked and lethal weapon.
Cillian dropped his body weight and scooted to the right in one smooth move.
The drunken gang cheered and punched the air, eager for the fight, and clearly expecting their mate to win.
“You don’t want to do this,” Cillian said and flexed his fingers. “Walk away now.”
“Sure I do.” The guy rushed forward, broken bottle aimed at Cillian’s face.
Cillian stood his ground until the last moment then he brought his arm down on the man’s extended forearm. The bottle flew to the right, hitting a rubbish bin. But he kept up his momentum, racing toward Cillian.
But Cillian was suddenly behind him. He took out Drunk Guy’s legs by slamming the side of his foot onto the back of both of his knees in quick succession.
The man crumpled to the ground, his yellow shirt exposing his lower back and the crack of his butt cheeks. “You’ll fucking pay for that.” He heaved himself standing and balled his fists.
“Yeah, get him, Duncan.” One of his cronies smashed his hand into his fist and leered forward.
“I wouldn’t bother if I were you, Duncan.” Cillian held out his hands as if in surrender. “I don’t want to hurt you. Apologize to the lady and walk away.”
A manic growl emerged from Duncan, and he charged, bull like, at Cillian.
“Fucking fool,” Finn muttered.
“This is going to end badly and…oh…” I gasped.
Cillian had stopped his attacker in his tracks. One swift sharp punch to the lower neck, his throat, and the man stood like a statue. He then began to sway, forward and then back. But he kept on going backward until his center of gravity was unrooted and he hit the ground with a whump. Out cold.
“What the fuck have you done?” One of his mates raised his fist at Cillian. “I’ll fucking kill you for that…”
“I’d think twice about that, mate, if I were you.” Cillian frowned at his hand, as though checking it for damage. “’Cause I’m just getting warmed up.”
Finn laughed. “Hey, come on, bro, we’ve got somewhere to be, don’t waste time with these losers.”
“Cillian,” I called. “Please.”
After a quick glance at the guys hovering around their fallen mate, he headed my way. “Sorry about that,” he said. “But you should know that from now on, anyone who disrespects you can expect to hit the deck.”