Her attitude is starting to grate on my nerves. I was fine to keep her around when she seemed satisfied with casual sex, but she’s getting needy, and I’m thinking the time to cut her loose may be approaching.
I can’t stand clingy women. Especially when we have always been up front with her. We told her it would never be more than sex, and she agreed.
I stand, deciding to check things with Ron before our set, to ensure everything is in hand, rather than sit here with the pouting possessive groupie now climbing into Jay’s lap.
“Hey, Dillon.” A vaguely familiar brunette sidles up to me, brushing her hand against my chest. “It’s been a while.”
Aoife shoots daggers at the woman as she pushes her tits into my chest, and I’m not having this.
“It has,” I lie because I have no fucking clue who this girl is, but I’ll go along with it. I think it’s time Aoife learned a valuable lesson. “What’s up?”
“Hopefully you.” A seductive smile graces her full lips as she discreetly slips her hand in the gap between our bodies and palms my cock through my jeans.
“Is that an offer?” I flash her a smile all the ladies love, inwardly chuckling as her eyes pop wide, her cheeks flush, and her lips part with longing.
She snaps out of it fast. “Absolutely.” Her smile expands as she gently squeezes my hardening dick.
“It’ll have to be quick. We’re on soon,” I say, grabbing her hand and pulling her with me as I force my way through the crowd, heading for the staff door at the rear of the main room.
“Thanks for the blowjob,” I say fifteen minutes later as I lead the girl out from the back into the main area of the pub. Still don’t know her name, and I have no interest in learning it. It was a pretty shit effort, but at least I got to blow off some steam before we go on stage. I kiss her quickly. “See you around,” I say, pretending I don’t notice how her pretty face twists into a frown as I walk away.
I’m an asshole. I readily admit it, but it’s not like these women don’t know what they’re getting into. Everyone on the indie scene in Dublin knows I’m not into commitment.
I am making my way towards our table when the strangest sensation washes over me. All the hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention, and an electrical charge coasts along my skin. My heart picks up pace, thumping quicker, as butterflies swoop into my stomach.
What the fuck?
Then I see her. Standing beside Ash. The girls have their backs to me as they face a clearly excited Ronan. He’s still seated, staring up at the Yank as if the sun shines out of her arse. I roll my eyes. My little brother is so obvious. He knows it and refuses to change. He wears his heart on his sleeve and carries lust in his eyes without shielding it from the object of his affection. He rotates through girls almost as fast as me. Unlike me, he likes having a girlfriend, and he usually has a different one everymonth. He falls in and out of love as fast and as often as Taylor Swift.
I hang back on purpose, drinking Ash’s new friend in, wondering if she’s the source of my weird reaction. Her dark hair hangs in waves down her back, looking shiny and thick and perfect to wrap around my fist if we were fucking. She’s tall, even accounting for the added height from her black and gold stilettos, making Ash appear even smaller than her five feet three inches. I can’t see much of her body as she’s got a coat on, but the ripped black jeans she’s wearing are molded to slender legs I already know would look good wrapped around my head. My dick perks to life as I walk towards them, wanting an introduction.
Ash already warned us off her new best friend, and while I probably should keep it in my pants, I suspect that’s going to be problematic. “If it isn’t my favorite sister,” I say from behind Ash, cutting across the conversation she’s having with Grace, Cat, and Ro. “About time you showed up.”
Ash whirls around and smacks me in the upper arm while her friend remains oddly rooted in place. “I’m your only sister, clown, and that joke’s getting real old.”
“Is this the Yank?” I ask, wanting to get a look at her face. If Jay says she’s gorgeous, she must be. He’s a fussy fucker, and he only likes ’em pretty.
Ash thumps me again. “Be nice, Dillon,” she warns as Grace slowly turns around.
Shock renders me mute when our eyes lock and I get a look at her face.
No. Fucking. Way.
She’s gorgeous all right. Even more so in the flesh. With her flawless skin, expressive big hazel eyes framed by long thick black lashes, perfect nose, high cheekbones, and fuckable lips, she is smoking hot. My fantasy woman in more ways than one.The pictures I have seen of her online have not done her justice at all.
She is definitely the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on.
That weird electric current I felt a few minutes ago pulses and strains in the small gap between our bodies as we stare at one another.
I’m guessing shock is registering on my face when I spot the panic in her eyes.
Interesting. Does she suspect I know who she is? Or is there a more sinister reason for her reaction. My eyes narrow, and admiration gives way to anger as I think about why she is here and whether her meeting my sister is a coincidence.
That fucking asshole Lancaster.
I grind my teeth to the molars and clench my fists at my sides as I consider the very real possibility this is a setup.
Every few months, that asshole who spawned me reaches out, reminding me of the offer he made. It’s not like I’ve forgotten. That meeting with him when I was seventeen is imprinted in my brain, no matter how badly I wish I could scrub it away. The contract resides in a secure hiding place at the back of my wardrobe. Not sure why I don’t just rip that shit into pieces, but my gut tells me to hold on to it. It’s a decent amount of money, but I refuse to give the sperm donor or my brother what they want.
