“I need yer taste on my lips,leannán,” he murmurs.
My insides clench. Sweetheart. He’s calling me sweetheart in Irish again. He drops to his knees, ducking his head under my skirt and hooking my legs over his shoulders. It’s even sexier because I can’t see what he’s doing.
I shiver, biting back a moan as he moves my panties aside and gasp, my fingers scrabbling at the cubicle wall when his tongue slides up my folds, circling my clit, and lashing it.
My head tips back as my eyes flutter closed. Oh God, so good. This isexactlywhat I need. A noise has my eyes shooting open.
Tahlie and at least two other strippers are staring at us, their eyes wide and their mouths hanging open. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Tahlie look so sour.
She’s not looking at me. Her eyes are glued to where Seamus’s head has disappeared under my skirt. I’m about to alert him that we have an audience when he sucks hard on my clit, a finger spearing inside me.
My hips jerk against his mouth, I make some sort of animal noise, and my head tips back again. The other two strippers melt away, but Tahlie stays. Because that’s not weird at all. Why is she watching my husband try to get me off? It’s creepy, right? It’s causing me to squirm awkwardly.
Seamus uses his free hand to grip my hips, anchoring them in place as a second finger enters me. Oh,God.Fuck it, Tahlie can watch if she wants. I close my eyes, blocking her out and pretending she’s not here.
“Seamus,” I moan. “Please.”
He knows what I’m asking, his fingers thrusting harder, ruthlessly fucking me, and his tongue lashes my clit again until my hips are jerking and bucking.
“Come on my mouth,leannán.”
His voice cuts through my haze, his teeth biting gently on my clit, and I come apart, moaning and gasping, my fingernails raking down the walls.
Seamus’s lips leave me, and he settles my panties and skirt back into place, kissing his way up my throat. Capturing my jaw with his hands, he kisses me deeply.
“Feel better?” he asks, smirking as he draws away from my face.
“Much,” I breathe.
His smug smile is firmly in place on his lips. It’s one I am really getting used to. He wears iteverytime he gets me off.
Tangling our fingers together, he lifts them to his mouth, pressing a kiss to them as his eyes burn into mine.
“Let’s get back to the party then.”
He turns and freezes. Tahlie is still standing there. Shit. I forgot about her. Or maybe I figured she wouldn’t watch the whole thing. Or perhaps I just didn’t give a shit about her. Yeah, probably the last one.
“Can we help you with something?” Seamus’s voice is icy, and Tahlie flinches away from it, shaking her head.
“No,” she mutters sullenly, turning on her heels and stomping away.
Seamus doesn’t pay any attention to the rest of the dressing room’s occupants as he leads me back out to the party, but I can feel their eyes on us. Some are smirking, a lot have open curiosity in their eyes, and one or two even have genuine smiles. Fiona flashes me a thumbs up, sticking her tongue out, and I bite back a giggle.
My warm, fuzzy feeling lasts the rest of the night, even though Seamus barely speaks to me. He called me sweetheart, and he got me off without even trying to get himself off. That definitely made me feel a little bit special.
He tumbles me into bed when we get home and fucks me hard until I come, screaming his name. After, he falls asleep cuddling me close.
Lying there, tracing my fingers over his bare shoulder, I smile into the darkness. Seamus Fitzpatrick doesn’t strike me as the type of man who typically cuddles. Another thing to make me feel a little bit special.
Chapter Twelve
SEAMUS
Tig fidgets with the floaty hem of her dress. She looks nice in her pretty dinner dress. She looks even nicer under it. I caught sight of her in the bathroom in her grey silk lingerie. The only reason I didn’t bend her over the vanity and fuck her was that it would have made us late.
Normally I wouldn’t give a fuck about being late, but we’re expected at the one place I have to fall in line. Pa’s house. Mickey O’Shea from Doyle’s crew nods as we step through the wrought iron fence into the small courtyard at the front door. Pa mentioned he had Doyle’s lads on security rotation.
Mickey’s face snaps forward, eyes glued to the road as I take Tig’s hand, lifting her fingers to my lips and pressing a kiss against them.