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“Hey, that’s totally something Reggie would do, and she’s probably the smartest fucking person on this island. I don’t know about the masochist part though. You’ll have to ask Roan.” Lochlan chuckles. Cash continues to silently seethe, so he adds, “You have to admit it’s at least a little funny.”
Cash clenches and unclenches his fists. “I’ll admit it’s funny once you take it down.” He quickly turns his head, trying to hide the grin I can tell he’s fighting, and walks away.
Lochlan drops his gaze down my body and, with a hand on my hip, pulls me to him. His eyes are smokey and dark. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” His low, rough whisper scrapes along my neck and my stomach squeezes.
A sharp trill grabs our attention, and we both look down the boardwalk at Cash. He never stops walking as he pulls out his phone from his pocket and sightlessly throws it into the ocean.
“Ope.” My eyebrows shoot up. Holding back a laugh, I look to Lochlan.
He shrugs and says, “He could have just put it on do not disturb.”
I fall into his chest, laughing, and he wraps his arms around me. I inhale his comforting scent mixed with sea breeze and instantly feel warmer. Lochlan emanates a unique kind of warmth. A kind that settles low in my stomach and makes my heart feel lighter, bigger. It’s a comforting glow that blazes strong and steady without ever becoming sweltering or imposing.
I keep my palms flat on his stomach as I pull away. Giving him a conniving look, I whisper as if it’s a secret, “The chocolates for tonight are in the kitchen’s fridge.”
“You wanna do some quality control, Stella Mae?” He smiles out of the corner of his mouth, his eyes soft and full of adoration.
“C’mon.” I grab his hand and tug him through the people still setting up. My mouth is already watering for the decadent truffles and chocolate barrels filled with top-shelf liqueur. I got a peek of them when they were delivered early this morning with the rest of the ingredients for tonight’s menu. Dusted with edible glitter and topped with delicate designs and gold foil, they are almost too beautiful to eat. Almost.
I swing through the kitchen doors, excited and—
Lochlan crashes into my back as I come to an abrupt halt. “What the fuck are those?”
What would normally be a wild, bustling kitchen is empty due to a broken gas line. Empty except for us and half a dozen beer kegs.
“This is a classy affair,” I scold, turning around to smack his shoulder. “I thought we agreed we wouldn’t turn this into a fratty beach kegger.”
He attempts a weak smile. “It’s just a little Guinness.”
“A little? There’s nearly a hundred gallons here.” I know I sound uptight, but my heart can’t help but sink a little. After all the effort I’ve put into this party, our first big event as new owners, I would be devastated if it turned into a wild kegger. It’s already bound to be unruly with the entire Fox family in attendance.
“You’re right,” Lochlan says genuinely, his hands finding my hips. “Our family is here for another whole week. I’m sure my brothers won’t mind the extra supply.” He pushes me a step back and I glance over my shoulder at a room service cart I’ve bumped into. It’s the only one in a line of four that isn’t topped with trays full of empty Champagne flutes ready for tonight.
“This is your party, pretty girl.” He brushes his lips over the tip of my nose. “I can’t wait to watch you shine.”
I find myself unconsciously trailing a finger along his collar, and his fingers dig into the flesh of my hip. Half-lidded, his eyes drop to my mouth and air exhales from his nose as I wet my bottom lip.
“I guess it wouldn’t be the end of the world if one of the kegs somehow got tapped . . . , ” I trail off as his mouth lowers to my neck and he pins me against the cart with his hips. He sucks on my pulse as his hands begin to slowly ruck up my skirt. I moan softly, arching into him as the fabric bunches between us.
Knitting my fingers in his hair, I hold him tight to my throat, each swipe of his tongue making my knees weaker. He drags his thumb over my slit, and I can feel my panties dampen as he presses the fabric against me.
“Fuck,” he groans desperately into my skin. “Have you been walking around all day this needy and dripping for me? Please let me lick your pussy. I need a fucking taste, a réalta. I need it. I need it bad.” His words come out hasty and frazzled, like the idea alone is making him lose his mind.
I protest unconvincingly as he strokes my swollen flesh over the wet material. “But—”
“Fuck the health codes and get your pretty ass up here.” My breath hitches as he hoists me onto the cart and immediately drops to his knees.
Wearing a thong, I can feel the rough polyester of the tablecloth on my cheeks, reminding me of our location, of the wrongness. But like most things with Lochlan, the risk is worth the reward.
He doesn’t waste a second, sliding my panties off and hooking my knees over his shoulder. He drags his nose up my inner thigh, inhaling deeply and nipping the skin. “So fucking delicious.”
He leaves a pleasant tingling in his wake, sparks skittering up my thighs following his touch. He spreads me open with two fingers, and the air feels cool and heightening against my heated flesh. I instantly warm the second he presses his hot tongue over my clit. The moan I try to keep quiet comes out as a muffled whimper, and I swear I can feel him smirk.
I don’t have the same restraint when he plunges two fingers inside me and firmly curls them against my G-spot. “Oh, fuck . . . , I bite out, tension twisting in my core.
“Oh, fuck!” I shout again but in a completely different tone, pushing his shoulders as I see someone’s head bop on the other side of the kitchen door’s tinted windows—coming straight toward us.
Lochlan falls back on his heels as I shove him away, jumping down in an anxious flurry. The cart I push off of shoots sideways and crashes into the next one.
