Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
DARE
After all this time, I’ve been delegated to sit and watch as I stroke myself. Truth is, I can’t even begin to care. It’s so hot watching Isla get double-teamed by my two best friends.
And since I’m pretty sure I’ve fallen for her, what does that say about me?
Am I into cuckholding, now? I guess I am, because I moan when I take myself in hand, pumping myself slowly to not bust too quickly.
Isla moans as she draws Cillian into her mouth.
He grunts and thrusts forward, making her gag.
He gasps, looking concerned, but Isla’s a trooper, just keeps going.
He puts a hand loosely in her hair, guiding her without pushing her head, and Liam fucks her in low, strong strokes from behind.
This is much better than watching porn, and I have to pace myself if I don’t want to embarrass myself by coming too soon, like a teenager.
I grip tight at my base.
I know what they are both feeling. I’ve had her mouth on me and I’ve owned that tight pussy.
Fuck, Liam’s right. Isla does spoil me, but that’s kind of our thing. She spoils me, I spoil her.
It’s the way it should be. The way it would be if I’d been allowed to take her home that first night we’d met, if everything hadn’t gone so sideways.
But it did, and now she’s... what? Our pet? She’s so much more than that to me, but I don’t want Liam knowing. I know he’ll judge me, try to keep me from her.
Even though I can tell he’s got it bad for her, too. Liam never makes friends, and here he is, sharing books with Isla, having conversations with her.
“Fuck.” Liam’s hand lands hard on Isla’s ample ass cheek again as he thrusts into her. “I'm not gonna last long."
“Me either,” Cillian rasps, and I’m panting myself, but I hold off.
“I’m coming. I’m coming I’m coming!” Isla’s shout reverberates through the room, and I groan low in my chest, moving my hand away from my cock because I know if I keep going I’ll be done for.
“Such a tight, wet pussy, Jesus,” Liam manages before slamming into her hard and growling.
Cillian, on the other hand, is spilling all over her mouth and face, and Isla’s tongue licks out to collect it from her lips.
Liam gets up to get a washcloth to clean her up, but I take it from him.
I want to be the last thing she sees before she inevitably takes a nap. She always does after a few orgasms, and she’s been a little sickly the last couple of days, pale and not eating like usual.
I gently clean off her face, and she looks down at my erection, which I haven’t done much about.
“Dare,” she whines. “You didn’t get off.”
“So what, a ghrá? We took care of you, didn’t we?”
She collapses onto her stomach, and Cillian heads to the bathroom. With her lying alone, I slide into bed with her.
Isla rolls over, spreading her thighs, and I can see the glistening of her and Liam on her sex.
“Use me,” she whimpers, and what am I supposed to do? Deny her?
I couldn’t deny her anything, not on my best day.
I guide myself into her, slow because Liam was rough with her.
As he sits on the other side of her, I start pumping slowly into her, looking into her eyes.
She whines. “Oh, you're so big.”
“You take it so well, a ghrá.” I grit my teeth when he takes her nipples and squeezes them and she starts to clench around me. “Coming already?”
“Can’t help it. I’m so sensitive. Oh, fuck, keep going—”
A low cry escapes her as she comes again, making my balls ache.
I’m so ready to burst inside her.
Liam twists her nipples between his fingers, and she arches her back, spasming around me again.
It’s all I can take, nearly howling out a moan as I grip onto her hips roughly and thrust into her, two, three times before I blow inside her.
I bite her shoulder when I come, and she arches so beautifully into me.
When we come down, she has a loopy smile as she wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me.
Liam kisses her temple after I pull away.
As I’m getting ready to spoon her, Betsy dings.
“Shit.” I get up and grab the laptop.
Imogen Rivers–Admitted to Burberry County Hospital.
Liam sits up. “What happened?”
“Maggie was just admitted to a hospital a few states over. We’ve got her.”
Standing, he starts putting on his clothes. “Where?”
“Burberry.”
Cillian comes into the room. “Burberry? What’s in Burberry? That’s nearly a thousand miles away.”
I don’t look up from Betsy. “Maggie Sullivan.”
Liam snorts. “It may not even be the same Maggie Sullivan.”
I scoff. “Please. Give me a little credit. I looked through all her aliases. It’s the only true match.”
“So? Someone else could have the same alias.”
Cillian looks at Liam, eyes narrowing. “It’s worth checking out.”
“Fine. Check out the lead on Maggie in the morning. See if Maggie’s still there or if she’s left a trail.”
Cillian nods.
Isla pouts. “Does that mean I won’t see him for a while?”
“It’s a bit of a drive,” Cillian says apologetically.
Isla gets up and gets closer to him, putting her arm through his, squeezing his bicep. “Be careful.”
Liam scoffs. “God, what are we, a bunch of teenagers?”
Cillian has gotten dressed in the interim and kisses Isla on the forehead.
Liam glares at Isla. “If this is Maggie, this doesn’t change anything here. We still can’t let her go.”
She gapes at him.
I glare at the man who I consider one of my best friends, not recognizing him. “And why the fuck not?”
“Because she is still a liability. She knows too much.”
He and Cillian are all dressed now, and they head to the door, Cillian in front and they leave the room.
I follow. “Where are you two going?”
Liam doesn’t stop or turn to look at me. “Meeting.”
“With Ronan?” Isla’s voice comes from behind me.
Liam sighs. “Yes. But don’t get excited. I’m just going to update him about Maggie, tell him Cill is going looking.”
At least there is a positive in all this clusterfuck. I’ll have Isla all to myself tonight.
Fighting a grin, I shoot Liam a sloppy salute. “Stay safe out there, soldier.”
“Watch it.” Liam leaves, but Cillian stands there for a moment, looking at Isla.
He doesn’t have to wait long, because she runs into his arms instead of mine, which stings but only a little.
The look on Cillian’s face? It makes it worth it.
He looks... happy. It’s not an expression I thought I’d ever see on my friend’s face, but here we are.
“I’ll miss you, Cill.”
“I’ll miss you too, mo chuisle.”
The term of endearment doesn’t slip by me.
Cill has never acted this way with any woman, much less a target—not that Isla is one anymore, but still—and if I’m honest, I’m almost worried.
What if she chooses him instead of me? Or worse, Liam?
Sure, she may act like she hates him, and he does the same, but the chemistry those two have is unmatched, even if they constantly butt heads.
Cillian kisses Isla softly, flushing and smiling just slightly, and then leaves.
I approach her from behind and tighten my arms around her belly.
She whines, flinching.
I frown. “What’s wrong? Sore?”
“A little.” She pauses for a long moment. “I, um, I’m starting my cycle soon, and it’s just been painful.”
“I could bring you some medicine. A hot water bottle? Anything you need.”
She bites her lip. “What I really need is to go to the drugstore. There’s this one kind of PMS medicine that works great, but I don’t know how to describe it to you. I’ll know it when I see it."
I look at her for a moment.
Is she playing me?
Liam’s paranoia seems to be rubbing off on me. But Isla could have escaped a dozen times, and she hasn’t. She trusts me. And I need to repay her with my own trust.
“All right, but you have to wear a disguise. At least a hoodie and some sunglasses, maybe a mask. I don’t want anyone else suspecting you’re Maggie and running off to take you to Ronan.”
Isla smiles and bounces to the room, to the closet and pulls out a pair of sweats, a hoodie sweatshirt, and a pair of sunglasses, bundling herself up until she almost looks like a celebrity trying to ward off paparazzi.
I look down at her, her eyes hidden with the big sunglasses, and I kiss the tip of her nose.
“I don’t even recognize you."
She snorts out a laugh and takes my hand, letting me lead her to my nineteen-seventies muscle car.
“An Irishman with an American car? Who would have thought?”
“They do a few things right.”
Isla laughs, and I keep the top down.
She shimmies and shakes to the music, howling out lyrics in an off-pitch, and I can’t help but laugh.
It’s actually nice to be out of the house with her. Like we’re a real couple instead of... whatever we are.
Isla’s quick in the drugstore, and I stand by the register, scrolling through my phone for any updates on Maggie’s location. So far, Imogen Rivers hasn’t sparked up any more hits, still shows as being in the hospital, so I think sending Cillian to Burberry is the right thing to do.
When Isla returns, she looks a little pale.
I frown, putting an arm around her as I tap my card to pay. “Are you feeling all right, a ghrá?”
“Just hungry.”
I’m not sure if she’s telling the truth, because she looks too weak and pale for it to just be hunger, but I head to a burger joint on the way home just to be safe.
When we arrive, she does manage a few bites of her burger and all her fries, but it’s unlike her not to finish her meals. She’s ravenous most of the time.
“A ghrá, you’re sick.” I place my hand on her forehead, and she leans into my touch.
She’s not warm but clammy, and that doesn’t make me feel much better.
“Do you need a doctor?”
She shakes her head. “No, no, nothing like that. It’s probably just a stomach bug.”
“Oh, poor baby. Want me to take you to bed?”
She nods.
As soon as we park outside the house, she is holding her arms up like a little kid, and I chuckle, scooping her up bridal style and taking her to bed.
I tuck her in, but she makes grabby hands at me.
I shed my shirt and slide under the covers with her.
She puts her head on my chest like always, listening to my heartbeat, and she feels thin beneath my hands, like maybe she’s dropped some weight.
I frown again. “You’re sure you’re okay, a ghrá?”
“I’m fine.” She kisses along my collarbone, and I hiss.
“Don’t start, a ghrá. You’re too sick to handle me making love to you.”
“Oh, is that what we’re calling it, now?” Sick or not, she’s still bratty, propping her chin on her hand to look at me with a grin.
I shrug, suddenly vulnerable. “That’s what it is, isn’t it? I mean, I’m mad about you.”
“You are? Really?” She narrows her eyes, and I can’t help but laugh.
“You can’t possibly be that oblivious.”
She grins wider. “Well, maybe not, but I like to hear it just the same.”
“You’re something else, a ghrá. I think you know that.”
She hums. “Tell Liam. I don’t think he knows.”
“Oh, he knows.” My jaw clenches, just thinking about it.
Cillian deserves a little attention, so I’m not as jealous of him, but Liam could have any woman he dreamed of on his arm, and still he’s after mine.
She snorts. “He thinks I’m a menace.”
“You are a menace.”
She bites me on the forearm with those sharp little teeth of hers, and I yelp, slapping her ass, laughing as she nuzzles back against my neck.
“But I’m not some manipulator, like he thinks.”
“Aren’t you? You’ve got me wrapped around your little finger.”
Isla giggles, and the sound melts me into her arms, has me kissing along her jawline.
“I wish that were true,” she murmurs, and closes her eyes, dozing with her leg looped over my hip.
“Oh, a ghrá, it is so true.”
But she’s already sleeping, her mouth parted as she snores slightly.
Looking at her here in my arms, one thought scares me to death.
I think I’m in love with Isla Quinn.