Page 80 of Fifth Avenue Fling

“And this is Teagan,” Clodagh says, drawing her into the group of women.

We exchange pleasantries with Orla and the ladies. More women in their sixties come over until a circle of about ten are around me.

“Where are the football players?” Teagan mutters beside me.

I shoot her a stern glance.

“Who is this strapping young man?” one of the women asks, unabashedly undressing me with her eyes. Her American accent holds the slightest trace of an Irish lilt.

I chuckle a little. It’s been a while since anyone called me young.

“This is my boss, Killian, and his daughter Teagan,” Clodagh tells them. Now I have the attention of all the ladies. More join them. Their accents are a mixture of American, Irish, and a few others.

Clodagh grins. “Our new boy, Killian, is a little shy, so make him feel welcome, girls.”

The women swarm around Teagan, asking her questions and telling her how pretty she is.

As for me, I’m being pawed and stroked. A hand on my back drifts dangerously close to my rear end.

“It’s Clodagh’s rich boss from Manhattan,” one of them whispers loudly.

Another hand reaches out to stroke my arm. “He’s very muscly.”

Someone runs their fingers through my hair, and I hear a gentle purr at my back.

“He’s not wearing a ring.”

Another hand nudges me on my lower back.

For fuck’s sake, is this how women feel in a strip club? I didn’t thinkYoga with Clodaghwould be so depraved.

Clodagh can barely contain her smirk.

“Is he single, Clodagh?” one of them asks her without even looking at me. “If you don’t want him, my Kelly’s getting divorced.”

“Is he in the military?” asks another throaty voice behind me.

“Oh God.” Teagan groans beside me. “This is gross.”

Jesus Christ. I’m being attacked by a gaggle of insatiable sex-hungry women.

“I’m right here,” I grumble. “I’ve got working ears.”

“Leave him be, ladies.” Clodagh smirks at me. “Mr. Quinn scares easily. Ah, here come the guys.”

I turn to see a group ofbrawnymen stroll over, wearing Irish football jerseys. They look like they’re in their twenties.

I feel the excitement ooze from Teagan.

“I’m watching you,” I warn her.

She rolls her eyes in disgust and scuttles away from me, ashamed of being seen with her embarrassing dad in public.

“Hi, guys,” Clodagh says to the group of men.

Looks like Clodagh has a lot of guys under her spell. They surround her, asking her how she is and telling her she looks great.

“How’s the new gig, Clodagh?” one of them asks in a thick Irish accent. “Orla was saying your man’s a right anal—”

---