3. Killian #2
“I saw him. Thought he was cute.” And while her voice wobbles, she straightens her back as she makes the sassy remark.
It’s so unexpected, and my heart pulses with pride at her crazy reply. I want to laugh.
For a moment, you could hear a pin drop, then several of the other girls gasp in horror, anticipating I might draw a gun at the insult. There’s a bitchy whisper and giggle as the silence draws out.
My mam flexes her full power over the situation, and I let it happen. Whoever is going to be my wife—and while I’m pretty sure it’s Avery, strictly, we only just met—needs to show that she’s a match for my family as well as for me.
Avery doesn’t give in.
My mother lets out a performative laugh. “Cute like a dog?”
“Cute like a murder kitty.” Avery gives a casual hair flick.
I have to repress a smirk at that.
“You don’t think you’ll be left mauled and bloody?” Mam says pityingly.
“A girl can dream.” Avery’s eyes spark of laughter.
Good girl, I say silently. And when our gazes meet, I allow my mouth to stretch into the merest glimmer of a smile. That’s my girl. My pretty love.
My mind stumbles as soon as I think it. Love. The word is innocent enough. A light endearment commonly used in every Irish family, not a weighty declaration.
And yet…
Avery licks her lips nervously, drawing my attention to how pink and tempting they are.
How good it would be to claim those lips for myself and feel her yield to my kiss. My cock responds, thickening.
“And what do you think you can bring to this marriage?” My mother’s disdain drips from her question.
“Something unique,” Avery begins slowly. “He’s a billionaire with everything he could possibly want, and dozens of women at his feet.” She sweeps a hand, indicating the others. “So the best I can offer is something not available to purchase. Me.”
Our gazes meet, and I give her a wry look. She’s literally being paid, so the irony of her statement is delicious.
At the same time, it’s a spike. I might be far more interested in Avery than I should be, but this is just for payment, in her mind, and she’s a sweet, clever little liar.
That curdles in my stomach.
“Very well.” My mother gestures to Avery, dismissing her.
My eyes follow her as she takes her place amongst the other women, immediately swallowed up by others shuffling and posturing to try to be closest to the front of the crowd.
“Last one,” my mother announces, and another girl appears. I hardly look at her, or register her words, as my attention is tugged over to Avery, even though I can’t fully see her.
“There are very clear rules about contact outside of the competition,” my mam says when the last girl has joined the group.
“It’s absolutely prohibited. Any person found to be trying to contact Killian when not on a formal date within the competition will be automatically removed from the competition and ineligible as a bride choice. Understood?”
Heads bob obediently.
I stand, straighten my cuffs slowly, aware of all eyes on me. “Anything more?” I ask, in a tone that suggests I might stab anyone who says there is. Particularly if I’m related to them. “Then enjoy our hospitality, ladies.”
The waiting staff immediately come forwards with trays of champagne, pints of Guinness, and tumblers of whisky. There are elegant little potato cakes too, and other more luxury nibbles.
Come for the carbohydrates with fat, stay for the potential marriage to a billionaire kingpin, I guess.
I keep my eye on Avery as I allow the women to gather around me and pepper me with questions and compliments. I discreetly track her around the room, never letting her out of my sight as I hold conversations and keep my impatience just about in check.
Until I see Avery sneaking away towards the exit. Without having talked to me.
“Excuse me.” I disentangle myself from the woman whose hands are all over my tux and follow my prey.
“It’s not over yet,” I call after her, across the silent lobby.
She sighs and turns. “I just needed a moment to myself, away from the cutthroat flirting and strategizing.”
I raise one eyebrow, and prowl towards her. “You haven’t given me your report on what they’re saying behind my back.”
She shakes her head. “They’re clever, and you don’t stand a chance.”
A laugh bursts out of me. “Of what?”
“Getting out of this without a shiny ring and a ball and chain. They’re going to eat you alive. They’re comparing techniques for…”
“For what, love?”
She blinks at the endearment, losing her thought pattern for a second, watching me approach until I’m close enough to touch her. And she’s forced to tilt her head up to meet my eyes.
“Uh, intimate stuff. I pretty much closed my ears and tried not think about it.” But her gaze dips to my waist.
“Were they wondering about the size of my cock?” I suggest, and I admit, I’m hoping to see her blush again.
Her chin jerks up. “I am not talking to you about this!”
“You’re my employee,” I point out softly. “I require you to tell me.” Especially when she blushes so prettily with the mere discussion of a dick.
“That’s exactly why I’m not talking about… Eggplants with you. HR would like a word,” she whispers back.
“Yeah, the HR department knows what’s good for them.” I shrug. “I can do whatever I like.”
“Unless your mother doesn’t like it.”
I take one step closer, and touch my fingers to her chin, guiding her so she’s looking at me. And as I dip my head so I can see her better, I find that my cock is very curious about this girl. I’m hardening by the second, in a way that rarely happens for me.
“What were they speculating about my cock?” I rasp.
Pink rises in her cheeks.
I laugh softly. “I like your blushing.”
Then she’s caught. Our gazes tangle, and I don’t think either of us could look away, even if we wanted to.
“I… Yes.”
“Yes, you like blushing too, or yes, you were talking about my cock?”
She goes brighter red, but she doesn’t look away. Her brown eyes are fathomless. They’re liquid chocolate, and I want indulge.
“They were… Your trousers…” Her voice is breathy.
I wait patiently. Or rather all of me except the part that she’s now talking about, which is rapidly becoming impatient. Fecking hell, this girl will be the death of all my self-control. I shift closer.
Through the door, the party continues in the other room, a burble of voices punctuated by laughter.
She doesn’t move away, although there’s plenty of space behind her. “They’re cut quite, tight, or…” Her brow furrows.
They’re not tight. But they have a cut that can fall right over my cock, revealing every bulge. And apparently, that happened.
“The size and er,” she gulps, “length?” she adds in a tiny questioning voice, “was visible.”
“Was my dirty girl looking at my cock and imagining what it would be like to feel it inside her?” I ask, low and rough.
“No!” she squeaks the word out so quickly it’s clear it’s a lie. “It was the other girls looking!”
“You didn’t take a look for yourself? Just to check they were right?” I say smoothly.
Her mouth opens, and I can see her attempting to deny it.
“What else did you wonder as you looked at me, Avery?” I dip my head so she’s breathing the same air as I am, and her heat ghosts over my cheek.
“What you’d be like to kiss,” she admits in a whisper, and sways in.
“How do you think it would feel?” I lure her.
For the first time in my life, I’m curious about seducing a woman.
With every eligible female throwing themselves obviously in my way for more than twenty years, I’ve never thought about chasing.
I’ve not needed or wanted to be the predator, and even my mother assumed I’d want a parade to choose from.
But I don’t. I want to hunt this one, special woman, and make her mine.
“It would feel good?” she replies tentatively. “Or, I mean, that’s what the other girls said,” she adds quickly. “I don’t know anything about it, and I didn’t get involved with speculation.”