That was all we needed to make our way to the bedroom, strip off clothes we left in a pile by the bed, and climb in with Bree. We took our time. Getting clothes off was just the first step.
Once we’d taken care of that, Finn settled on the bed beside her, kissing her and stroking her shoulders.
Declan knelt beside her and kissed her temple, her cheek, the line of her jaw.
We let ourselves slow down to the point of doing almost nothing at all except giving Bree what she needed. Touches. Kisses. Murmurs of affirmation that put a blush in her cheeks and heightened every passing moment. I kissed my way down her body, stopping to linger on a spot when she moaned beneath my lips. I eased a hand beneath her hips, tilting them toward me, and stroked her clit until she came apart in slow, languid movements and breathy sighs.
This was not the hot, hungry sex we usually indulged in. This was lovemaking, and we made sure Bree understood the difference.
By the time I entered her, she’d come so many times her body went boneless. But at the feel of my cock deep inside, she came alive again, bowing her back and crooning at how good I felt. “Ronan. Oh god, Ronan.”
I snapped my hips back, then forward again, increasing the pace and giving her every part of me. This was no longer our bodies coming together but a melding of hearts and souls. She owned me. She might never know it. She might never want me the way I did her, but I belonged to her.
A tremble ran up my spine and spread to every part of my body.
Bree tightened around me, her voice rising with her climax. We came together in one of the most beautiful and hardest orgasms of my life. I gripped the sheets on either side of her head and kissed her until I had no air left.
Finn took my place when I pulled out, flipping Bree onto her stomach and sliding into her with a groan.
“Declan.” She patted the space beneath her, and Declan wasted no time settling in against the pillows.
The three of them together seared into my memory, and as soon as I could breathe without gasping, I rejoined the party.
Finn leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the back of her neck, right beneath the shortest line of hair.
Bree shuddered and pressed her ass into his stomach, groaning when he reached around and flicked her clit while driving his cock deeper.
We stayed in her bed for hours, until long after nightfall when the pub reached its peak operating hours. If Declan worried about missing a shift behind the bar, he didn’t mention it.
It didn’t matter. None of it fuckingmatteredif Bree was unhappy.
She grinned at me over her shoulder as we lay in a pile of rumpled sheets, the smell of sex so thick in the room it would follow us for hours, probably even after we showered. I ran my hands through her hair and down the line of her jaw. “You are the best thing to happen to me in years.”
Her eyes fluttered closed. “Same, big guy. That goes for all three of you.”
I brought her into my lap and locked my arms around her waist. All of us wouldn’t fit in her shower or I’d have already taken off in that direction. So, for now, we cuddled and whispered and pretended like the world outside didn’t exist.
30
BREE
How had three months passed in the blink of an eye? I stood behind the bar and examined the entire space. I’d paid the last invoice this morning after a walkthrough with Ronan last night. It looked similar to the pub I’d inherited but with a new lease on life just like Nana Maeve had wanted. Fresh paint still gave off that chemically aroma that burned my nose. The bar had been refinished into a deep mahogany that made the old photographs behind me stand out against their oak frames. Forty years of pictures that told the story of O’Sullivan’s and never failed to make me smile while wanting to cry.
I should’ve felt triumphant. I did, in a way. I’d done what Nana asked and met her deadline. I’d seen her vision through to the end, overseeing every last coat of paint and nail and light fixture.
The cream in my coffee congealed on top from sitting too long. I drank it anyway.
My phone lit up, Diane’s name and her tiny picture appearing on the screen where I’d propped my phone in anticipation of her call. “Morning.”
She beamed at me, glasses perched on top of her head and brown curls bouncing around her face. “Holy shit that haircut is the bomb! You sure know how to shake things up when you go out of town. I have great news. The Harringtons want you on their project.” Her face filled the screen when she leaned forward. “Tricia has been flooding my inbox with questions, and I’ve fielded her as long as I can. She wants to know if you’re on board. Oh, the bar looks nice. How are things going?”
Diane in a nutshell was the epitome of a squirrel on crack. Efficient and organized but able to carry on five conversations at the same time without missing a beat.
I took another sip of my cold coffee, grimaced, and topped it off with fresh from the pot. “Renovations are finished. I have a grand reopening tonight.” I left it there, my chest tightening the way it had been for days now. My stay in Clover Hill was always temporary. I’d known that from day one. I’d been telling myself that day after day, but now, seeing the end of it right in front of my face put me on edge. The pub was back on its feet, doing better than ever–even though Tammy and Nana’s old friends didn’t come anymore–and I had every reason to head back to Boston and pick up where I’d left off.
Except for three things.
Three men.
