Page 28 of Hot Irish Halloween

“I already told you. I came here for the party. That’s it.” She willed herself to speak through the rush of conflicting emotions that filled her throat, her voice shaking like her entire body. “Now, before you ruin this beautiful dress that you paid for, let’s go join the other guests and get this night over with.”

Jack’s features were flushed and strained. But he did as she asked and withdrew, rising to his feet abruptly. When he looked down at her from his full height, his face blazed. His cock jutted from the front of his pants, and he squeezed it, as if commanding it and her to obey him.

“You can keep fighting this all you want, Penny. You’re going to lose.”

With an insolent curl to his lips, Jack snapped her panties back in place. He pulled her up by the hand, and while she stood staring at him in a daze, he fluffed her dress around her legs. As if nothing had happened, as if he hadn’t just attempted to destroy her will to resist him, he gallantly held up his arm and cocked his head toward the door, indicating it was time to depart.

“Let’s go, Mrs. Valentine,” he said mockingly.

Penny lifted her chin and took his arm, cool as iced lemonade, refusing to acknowledge what had just happened had blown her fucking mind or the fact that her clit was still pulsing from the feel of his mouth. Together they walked out of the room and followed the train of costumed guests, decked out in tulle and chiffon, silks and satins, to their hosts waiting for them below.

10

MALEFICENT

JACK

Jack couldn’t figure Penny out. What woman stopped a man in the middle of giving her a fucking orgasm? Granted, it had been a bold move, unexpected to him too. Taking his first taste of Penny’s sweet pussy wasn’t exactly what Jack had planned to do in between unpacking and playing his first round of cards. It definitely wasn’t something he’d thought would happen so soon after that weird conversation in the car when she’d announced they weren’t having any kind of sex on this trip or ever.

Sure, he’d known she was lying, more to herself than to him, when she’d said she only wanted his friendship. Every time Penny looked at him, the desire for more was written all over her face, in her body language. It was clear she hadn’t allowed herself sexual pleasure with a man in a long time, and he’d wanted to be the one to show her she needed it. Needed him.

So far, he was 0 for 2 on the scoreboard. He’d managed to get his hands on her twice, and both times, she’d thrown up thestop sign. Now his cock was still raging hard, and unfulfilled. Her intoxicating nectar was still on his tongue, and he had to somehow forget about that and chat up the stiffs for a few quid.

As he escorted her down the stairs and into the Great Hall, where several couches and settees were assembled, the looks of curiosity and outright lust that were leveled at her by other men were growing obvious. Problem number two. It was as though they could smell the arousal on her and were responding to the silent call of her pheromones.

Penny took a break from being angry with him to appreciate their surroundings. “I love every single thing about this castle. I can’t get over how beautiful it is,” she whispered so only he could hear.

“Neither can I,” he said gruffly, his eyes drawn to her upturned face.

If Penny noticed the stares, from him or anyone else, she didn’t mention it. She was too busy looking around at the sparkling chandeliers, baubles, and artwork throughout the room. Every table was decorated with symbols and foods of the harvest. The other guests in their finery and masks already had goblets in their hands as they stood in groups chatting or lounging on the couches.

“Where’s the dancing going to be? Think this is the ballroom?” Penny asked skeptically, looking at the couches as they passed through. Even if the cushiony pieces were pushed out of the way, there was still a large, flat, circular platform smack in the middle, and it didn’t look like it could be easily moved.

“Can’t say,” Jack replied curtly. He wasn’t going to go back to playing Nice Guy with her quite that fast.

“Mr. Valentine!”

They turned at the friendly voice. It was Simon FitzGerald dressed like a medieval lord, coming over to clap Jack on the back. Two older men followed, giving Penny a once-overand then turning back to him. Jack had met them before at fundraisers; neither had ever offered his foundation a cent, but they sure loved talking about his career wins and bragging that they’d “done a little boxing” in their day.

When the trio of men reached him and Penny, they immediately launched into a conversation about the current MMA champ’s retirement and who would take over the title next. Clarissa appeared, too, weaving through the guests and chatting. She was now in a Maleficent costume.

Jack and Penny exchanged a pointed glance. He’d read up on Sleeping Beauty and her story that week. Was it a coincidence that Clarissa would choose the costume of Briar Rose’s and Prince Philip’s sworn enemy?

“Is there a glass coffee table?” Penny whispered before Clarissa reached them.

“Didn’t notice one. Why?”

“Because there’s usually a scene in a movie where the catfight over the hot guy devolves into a physical tussle, and one of the women gets punched or kicked off the top-level balcony. There’s always a glass coffee table right underneath, and the loser of the fight crashes into it and dies. Just wondering which room has the table,” Penny explained, looking around.

Despite still being irritated and preoccupied by Penny’s stubbornness, Jack held in the sudden urge to laugh at the ridiculous image.

“Hm. So you think I’m hot? Wouldn’t have guessed that.” Penny twisted her lips. All it did was force his attention back to her mouth. “Anyway, if there is a fight over me, my money’s on you, angel.”

“Yeah, right. Angel. Now that we’re happily married and all, I need to come up with a name for you. You know, to make it look good. How about Rocky?” she asked, still keeping a wary eye on Clarissa.

“Do not blaspheme his name.”

“Okay, sorry. How about Drago? You give off more of that vibe, anyway. Tall. Freakishly strong and monosyllabic.”

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