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As you beg me to claim your pussy.

I swallow hard as I read his texts, unable to deny the physical reaction they cause between my legs. Flustered, my thumbs slide across the screen, typing and deleting as I try to find a proper response.

Keep dreaming.

I don’t have to. The two of you will be here tomorrow night.

See you soon, cailín dáigh

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CONOR

Leaning back in one of the oversized chairs in the lounge, the coolness of the leather seeps through my shirt as I take a long sip of whiskey. Lowering my glass from my lips, I sneak a glance at my watch.5:23 p.m.

“Con?” Tristan calls from behind the bar. “Can you meet with the three new members tonight? Show them around the club?”

“No,” Layla answers for me as she reaches for my empty glass, a bratty smile spreading across her face. “Pretty sure the big guy has other plans tonight.”

Befuddled, I stare back at her. I haven’t said shit about tonight’s plans to anyone.

“What?” Layla shrugs. “You’ve checked your watch at least ten times in the last thirty minutes. Youclearlyhave somewhere to be.”

Grabbing her wrist, I playfully yank her into my lap. She squeals with laughter as I wrap my hand around her waist and pull her tightly into me. “You’re such a fucking brat,” I whisper against her ear. “And you knowexactlywhat you just did.”

Pulling away from my tight hold, she stares at me with a sheepish, smug grin. “Well… you could’ve lied,” she quietly retorts, slipping out of my grasp before I can yank her into my lap again.

Fuck, do I ever love her…

“Hey!” Tristan jokingly barks. “Stop looking at my wife like that.”

Scoffing at him, I shrug my shoulders. “Like what?”

“Like you’d like to make her yours.” It might be because I’ve fucked her, but I’m closer to Layla than I am with my other sisters-in-law. While she is nearly perfect, and I joke plenty about my desire to fuck all the gorgeous women my brothers have married into our family, that’s a boundary I could never actually cross.At least not without being invited first.

“You better be careful,” Layla teases, snuggling into Tristan. “It’d be a shame to miss your hot date because you’re getting the snot beat out of you over me.”

“You know you’re worth it, sweetheart.” I wink at her, enjoying the scowl it draws from Tristan.

“Hot date?” Finn chimes. “Is that why you trimmed your beard and smell like you sampled the cologne counter at Macy’s?”

“Don’t be a twat.” Declan swats the backside of his head before joining Tristan behind the bar. Turning his attention back to me, Declan proclaims in a fatherly tone, “You look good.”

“He better,” Finn mutters.

My brows furrowing, I gruff, “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Victoria Conrad… I love you, brother, but she is well out of your league. Well out ofallour leagues.” He takes a seat at the bar, and the room falls silent for a second, the shift in energy palpable. It feels like the teasing suddenly took a backseat to the knowledge Finn—of all people—was about to impart. “Do the lot of you know nothing?” He looks at the inquisitive faces staring back at him.

“Enlighten us,” I huff.

“She’s not like us,” he shares.“She’s high society. Old money. Like the Vanderbilts, the Rockefellers, andtheConrads.She sits on the boards of several philanthropies, spending the family money for good. She has done so since graduating from Harvard six years ago. Now, her girlfriend… that’s a different story.”

We all stare at him with varying degrees of confusion written across our faces. “How the fuck do you know so much about the two of them?” Declan breaks the silence and asks the question running through all our thoughts.

“How do you not?” Finn exclaims excitedly. “It was a huge fucking scandal when Miss High Society started publicly dating not only a woman, but a twenty-year-old high-school dropout from a blue-collar, single-parent home. It was all over the news.”

“The news?” Declan air quotes with a smirk. “You're one of those tabloid readers, aren't you?”

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