Chapter 4
Chapter Four
KEEGAN
R onin sways on his feet. Or maybe I’m the one doing the swaying, which makes sense, given how many drinks we’ve had. St. Paddy’s Day needs celebrating. Throw Santiago into the mix, and something is bound to happen.
I hand a bottle of water to Ronin, in the hopes that the woman trying to climb him like a fucking tree gives him a minute.
Or listens when he says he’s not interested, though she’s not too keen on chatting.
Neither is her friend. They’re a tag team put together by The Morrigan herself.
Though the Goddess of Temptation forgot to make them at least a little alluring, and that’s despite the Jameson we’ve been drinking.
“Come on, let’s go back to my room. They’ll join us when they’re ready, but it looks like your friend is ready to party.
” The raven-haired vixen drags her green nails down my chest as she speaks.
No shit, I’ve been straight-up clear as fucking day about not being the slightest interested, but she doesn’t give a fuck about our lack of…
connection, spark, Jesus, anything, really.
Carefully picking her hands off me, so as not to cause drama, I twist around and down a bottle of water myself before I manage to tame the fury at this random woman touching me up. “I told ya a hundred times or more, I ain’t feckin’ interested. Keep your goddamn hands to yaself.”
There’s a commotion behind us, but my focus is on Ronin, since it’s me job and all. Plus, I’m rather fond of the surly bastard, and the vixen in front of him is even worse than the one before me.
She must be daft, because even though I’m clear as a fucking knife in the ribs, she ignores me words and starts running a hand over the front of my jeans.
“Would you feckin’ stop,” I warn, catching her hands and getting them off me.
She grins, like this is all part of a game, and goes to raise them again. I take an obvious step away as I tell her to keep her distance, but my words get lost by Santiago yelling from the other side of the room, “Lads, I found your wife!”
Finally, something gets through to the two desperate Betas who’ve been circling like sharks. They stagger like Santiago physically slapped them, adding dramatic gasps for everyone watching.
Ronin throws his head back and laughs at the Betas’ acting skills, and the situation. Though, the instant Santiago pushes the decoy our way, it’s like all the noise in the room vacuums out.
Fuck me.
My brain short-circuits before my heart thuds like I just sat through the biggest jump scare.
I lose the function to breathe when I see her walking over towards me. Us.
Her eyes are dangerous—green as emeralds and deep as a river—completely distracting. I get caught up in them until she sways her hips with a sassy confidence that shocks my body back to life.
Including my cock, which goes from dead in my jeans to raging fucking hard and straining against my zipper.
Once she takes a couple more steps, I hear her voice. “Honey, I’m so sorry I’m late. I got caught up.”
Listening is harder than it should be, because I’m stuck watching the way her lips move.
Her tongue runs along her teeth before she speaks again “Hon?”
I shake my head to right my thoughts. My eyes drag away from her mouth, and her eyes are on mine, full of fucking tease and trouble.
It’s only for a bare second, but it’s enough.
In the next blink, they shift behind me and destroy the woman next to me with a look.
But fuck, I get it. I got a look, too, completely different, but I understand the power.
And then her gaze falls back to me.
“Thank fuck,” I growl. At her, but also the Beta scurrying over to her friend. Scared off by my wife.
Those magical lips twist again as she brushes up against me. She’s not tiny. I mean, I ain’t small at six-foot-six, but something about the way she slides her arms around me and lays her head on my chest makes me feel bigger, stronger.
It’s fucking nice, the way my body molds around hers.
As soon as my hand settles on the back of her neck, I’m leaning down to lick my way into her mouth before I can even take another breath.
Sweet peaches soak my lips.
Ripe for the picking. Drenched in syrup.
She sets my head spinning before her lips twist again. Another softer kiss, and then she’s gone. I’m left standing with impatience flooding my veins and the sweetest view of her arse as she moves towards Ronin.
“Wife?” he asks, laughing still.
In the next step, I watch my best friend transform from pissed idiot to something very different.
I’ve been with Ronin since we were but kids. We’ve grown together, seen each other through thick and thin, good and fucking tragic, and I know this is going to be one of those memories that sticks forever too.
“Go find someone else to spend the night with, my husbands are not included.” Her voice is as sweet as her scent.
I wish I had a mirror to see my “wife” in action, although Ronin’s expressions are as good as.
He's always been a cocky motherfucker. It comes from his parents, the life we were born into. Probably the crown he’s guaranteed to one day wear has also helped, but in front of her, he gets surer, and confident, of himself.
A rumble spills from him as his eyes don’t move off her. I see the moment he gets a hit of her scent; his eyes close and his head falls backwards.
His hands reach out, snapping around her waist and dragging her close until there’s no space between them. He drops his hands to her arse and holds her pressed hard against his front.
Ronin does the same as I did. He soaks in her presence, no doubt filling his lungs with her scent and committing it to memory.
“Where you been, baby?” he asks, flicking his head up, expecting an answer.
“With Santiago,” she offers, making Ronin glare.
“You don’t go off with strange men anymore. That’s my only warning, baby.”
She tips her head to the side. “Or what?”
I don’t need to see her face to know she’s challenging and teasing him; it coats her skin, making me harder again.
“I’ll spoon their fucking eyes out.”
Her hand snakes up his chest, and he twists his neck from side to side. “Come on, we’re here to have a good night. Take me dancing.”
He flicks his chin up, demanding her mouth. And her hand grabs the front of his shirt so she can stretch up. Of course he helps her out, lifting her off her feet, closer to his mouth.
I step forward, only because I want to see them kiss. And it’s better than I expected. No jealous rage takes hold as his tongue dances with hers. My hand doesn’t even shake when I pull her my way, so I can taste her again.
When we stop kissing, Ronin takes her mouth again before he’s talking to the both of us. “We’re going to drink and dance, then we’re going home to fuck.”
She purrs.
And it’s like nothing I’ve ever heard before.
It does something to a part of me deep inside. Maybe I’ve drunk way too much, but since she kissed me, I feel more sober too.
Ronin cups his hands around her waist and hoists her up to straddle him, and the black dress flutters around her arse cheeks. I press in behind her, my hands finding their way to trace along her milky thighs.
“Fuck, Kee, our wife scents too good. Right?” His eyes are an invitation for me to dip down behind her and drag my nose over her slender neck, inhaling her scent from the source.
She twists at the last second. Her eyes are dilated, her cheeks flushed, and I swear she doesn’t look like she's acting. Her eyes are locked on mine and she leans back for a kiss, stopping me with a finger to my lips.
“Santiago, maybe some drinks?”
“More Jameson. We’re celebrating,” Ronin adds, but I’ve already dismissed the conversation, instead wrapping my hands around her face so she can’t talk anymore.
“Give me more of that mouth,” I grunt, nipping at her lips.
She opens them for me, and I spend an ungodly amount of time acquainting myself with them. And her tongue.
Until Ronin clears his throat, making her laugh as she moves to close the distance between them.
I lose track of time as we drink, dance, and wind each other up.
“Enough,” Ronin barks after a while, grabbing her off the dance floor and throwing her over his shoulder.
All around us, the crowd jeers and cheers, and then they swoon when I pull off my shirt to cover her butt. It’s that, or I start a fucking war with any male in the place who dares look her way.
We get past the crowd, Santiago in tow.