Her chuckle, like her smile, shot straight to his cock. “Drinks and a sunset stroll on the beach. You’re like the living, breathing version of the most basic-ass dating profile to ever exist.”
Not only was she gorgeous, she was a sarcastic little thing to boot.
Be still, my heart.
“Can’t blame a man for trying,” he said with a shrug, glancing over as the bartender returned with their drinks. Lifting his glass, he sipped his subpar whiskey while she plucked her brightly colored drink from the bar. “So what does a girl like you enjoy, if not romantic walks on the beach?”
“Hmm.” Tilting her head to the side, she seemed to give his question serious consideration. “Smutty books, coffee, alcoholic drinks with way too much sugar, and the fall of capitalism. But in lieu of the latter, I make do with some bondage and rough sex whenever the mood strikes.”
When he got home, he was buying Killian the biggest fucking bottle of whiskey he could get his hands on. “And has the mood struck?”
Again with that sex-kitten smile. “It might. Still early to tell.” Setting her drink on the bar, she grabbed her purse. “Just a second.”
He watched as she pulled a phone free and pressed it to her ear. “Hey! Yeah, I’m here. At the bar.” Sliding from her stool, she looked around then waved. “I see you! I’ll meet you over there away from the crowd. Yeah, just give me like two minutes.”
Hitting a button to end the call, she flashed him an apologetic smile. “Sorry, my client just got here, I need to run. But thanks for the drink. Maybe I’ll see you around later?”
“Maybe. If not, I’m in room five-oh-six.”
Her grin widened, all trace of apology disappearing from her expression. “Good to know. See you round, Stretch.”
Grabbing her drink from the bar, she slipped into the crowd and disappeared from his view. But not before he was able to confirm that yes, indeed, her ass was just as round and soft as the rest of her.
If there was any justice in the world, he wouldn’t be spending the night alone. For now, however, he had a job to do.
Shoving aside the urge to follow her into the crowd, he turned back to where Josh Miller was currently holding court with a small group of their fellow alumni. Bracing himself for what had to be done, he swallowed the last of his whiskey and made his way toward his target.
Daisy
* * *
Holy crap, holy crap, holy crap.
That had been… exhilarating was the only word that came to mind.
Pressing a hand over her racing heart, Daisy Harrington wound her way through the crowded lobby to stake out a table as far from the bar as she could get without losing sight of her target.
Tiernan O’Rourke was more potent in person than she’d expected. Even sitting down, it was clear he had several inches on her, which was saying something considering she topped six foot in her heels. Between her height and her curves, finding men who made her feel small and delicate wasn’t something that happened often.
But his physical size had only been part of the spell he’d woven over her. That quick wit, combined with his boyish smile and the hint of darkness lurking behind his eyes, was all designed to make a woman want to drop to her knees and beg.
Thank god she’d been able to play it cool. She’d even been able to make that joke about substituting rough sex for the fall of capitalism that she’d been practicing in the mirror for the past week. But thankfully their drinks had gotten there when they had. Two more minutes in his orbit and she was pretty sure she would have turned to putty in his hand.
Not that she minded, really. After all, for her plan to succeed she’d need to get his hands on her sooner rather than later. But from her research she’d come to understand that men enjoyed the chase as much as the conquering, so she’d given him just enough to let him know she was interested before walking away. And she’d been rewarded with an open invitation for later, complete with his room number.
God, she loved it when a plan came together.
Settling at her chosen table with what she now considered her victory drink, she pulled a small tablet and keyboard from her purse. Considering what she had planned for the evening, she hadn’t wanted to haul her bulky laptop bag around with her, but the tablet was more than enough for what she needed.
Sipping at her drink, she pulled up the dossier she’d created on one Tiernan O’Rourke. It was, she was ashamed to admit, rather skimpy. The O’Rourkes as a whole didn’t have much of an online presence outside of whatever socials had been created for their various businesses—all of which could use a little sprucing up, if you asked her—and some rumors about their involvement in Charleston’s criminal underworld. Which she’d found compelling enough to warrant a deeper dive into the family’s financials, but everything looked more or less legit.
And even if the O’Rourkes were the criminal masterminds those rumors made them out to be, it didn’t really affect her plan. Outside of Tiernan and his twin brother Lochlan’s few run-ins with the local police on some rather trivial matters, they didn’t seem dangerous.
The twin had been an interesting twist. Of all the stories she’d heard about Tiernan O’Rourke growing up, a twin brother had never been mentioned. She might be concerned she had the wrong brother if she hadn’t watched him arrive alone in his prized Corvette.
Whatever reason Lochlan had for not coming to their high school reunion, she was grateful. Trying to keep tabs on one sneaky sonofabitch was hard enough. Keeping tabs on both of them and trying to keep track of which twin was which would have been an added complication she didn’t particularly need.
Then again, maybe getting both brothers in bed would have been even better revenge. It was certainly guaranteed to be a damn good time, if the books lining her bookshelves at home were anything to go by. With the whole twin-telepathy thing, she’d bet anything they’d make an excellent team.
