All Our Luck: Complete Irish Reverse Harem Series Read online

  “One of you grab the hose,” I instruct, “And one of you go into the barn and grab the purple bottle of dog shampoo off the shelving unit.”

  Keenan hands me the hose and then goes to turn it on while Rowan gets the shampoo. I let it run for a few minutes to make sure it’s not too cold before rinsing him off. When I’ve gotten the worst of the mud off the grumpy little dog, I pull him out of the tub.

  “Can you two dump that out, get rid of the worst of the grime?”

  They tip it over, dumping the filthy water into the yard, and when it’s righted, I plunk the pup back into the tub and set to work really scrubbing him. He whines pathetically, scrabbling to get out, and Keenan and Rowan have to jump in and help me hold him down. For a little thing, he’s pretty strong, and he is not a fan of bath time.

  All of us end up soaked, but laughing, and by the end of it, we’re filthy while the pup is squeaky clean.

  “There are some towels in the cupboard under the shelf where you found the shampoo, can you grab me one of the big ones?” I ask Rowan.

  He runs to get it and returns with a huge towel to wrap the pup in and a smaller one for us to clean up with a little. I wrap the towel around Ruckus, tousling him with it to help him dry.

  “Come on, let’s take him inside so he doesn’t go right back into the puddles.”

  We take Ruckus into my house, to Mayhem’s delight. I towel him off as best I can, sitting on the living room floor with him, until his wiggles become too much for me and I let the damp dog scamper off to play with mine.

  Keenan and Rowan had taken turns in my bathroom cleaning off the worst of the mud and drying off as best they could.

  “You two make yourselves at home, I think I’m going to need to change,” I say, looking down at my mud-caked clothes.

  I dart upstairs and shuck off the whole mess. A quick rinse in the shower and a fresh outfit leaves me feeling significantly less grubby, and I quickly make my way back down to rejoin the guys.

  They’ve put on a movie and settled on the couch. Ruckus has cuddled up in Keenan’s lap, and Mayhem is sitting on the cushion between both of them, soliciting attention from whoever will offer it. The sight of them both just relaxing with the dogs sends a weird little twinge through my heart.

  I swallow past the lump in my throat and make my way to the couch.

  “Excuse me, miss, you’re in my spot,” I tell Mayhem.

  She wags her tail at me, tongue lolling out the side of her mouth. I laugh and pick her up, sitting in the spot she was occupying and letting her spread out across my lap and Rowan’s. The three of us watch the movie in companionable silence until I hear the growling of Keenan’s stomach. “Y’all wanna help me kill off some leftovers?” I ask them.

  “I think we might be able to help you with that,” Keenan says with a grin.

  I carefully work my way out from a sleeping Mayhem. She whines in protest, but settles contentedly on Rowan. I elect to finish up some leftover pasta, and the boys jump at the opportunity to gorge themselves on some delicious beef stew I’d made far too much of.

  When everything’s heated, I call them to the table. They each eat two bowls, which makes a helpful dent in what’s left. When we’ve finished, I remove the foil from the pie they brought over and nearly burst out laughing. The whole thing is lopsided and filling has erupted out, and it looks like the bottom might be burnt.

  But I control myself, to preserve their dignity, and cut pieces for each of us. It doesn’t stay together well, and we each end up with a little pile of pie-like components on a plate. They watch me eagerly as I take the first bite, and the hope in their faces keeps me from cringing. It’s not the worst thing I’ve ever tasted, and I appreciate the effort and the sentiment, but it’s definitely not winning any prizes.

  But they look so excited, I can’t bear to crush their joy. “It’s great!” I tell them, hoping it sounds enthusiastic.

  They both grin and take bites of their own, and I watch as their faces change from exhilarated to horrified.

  “Delia, lass,” Keenan says gently, swallowing his bite with a grimace, “Either you’re a liar, or you have no taste buds. This is the worst thing that’s ever happened to a fruit.”

  I laugh. “I was trying not to hurt your feelings!” I confess.

  “I mean, that’s kind of you,” Rowan says, spitting his into a napkin, “But this might do permanent damage to your taste buds, you should have spoken up.”

  I crack up even harder, tears streaming down my cheeks. I’m laughing so hard I can’t breathe, and the guys are cracking up, too. When I’ve finally calmed down enough to speak, I wipe at my eyes.

  “I’ve got some ice cream in the freezer, let’s get the taste out of our mouths,” I say, only half-teasing.

  Both of them nod in wide-eyed agreement. I retrieve a couple tubs of Blue Bell from my freezer and grab spoons, plunking everything down on the table. “Dig in, boys!” I say cheerfully.

  This feels like a fitting end to a silly, relaxing afternoon with them. Ice cream straight from the tub. And despite the fact that I’m falling more and more in love with them by the minute, I’m happy just to have them here with me.

  Chapter Nine

  Rowan

  After we’ve gone home, I find myself wide awake late into the night, deep in thought. Keenan and I had agreed to drop all of our efforts to go after Delia, for the sake of keeping her in our lives, but especially now that I knew she really did have feelings for me, the decision was driving me mad.

  I mean, yeah, she’d also said she has feelings for my brother, but that doesn’t make me want her less.

  At first, I’d really only been interested in getting her in my bed, but she’s worked her way into my heart in a way no one else ever has. I’ve never dared to drop the famed “L” word on a woman before, but the more time I spend around her, the more I’m convinced that I’m falling in love with her.

  With feelings like these, I don’t know how to let go. I still want her for myself, but we promised her. Not to mention the fact that I promised my brother. If I tried to make a move on her, not only would I be going back on my word to her, but I’d risk severing ties with Keenan permanently by breaking our agreement.

  Not that I’m sure I trust him to stay away, either, to be honest. It only makes me feel more guilty to know that he’s got feelings for her that might be as strong as my own.

  But I can’t help how I feel. And the unfairness of it all eats away at me. I might have found the love of my life, but I can’t have her because my brother is in love with her, too. I sigh and roll onto my side.

  What if she changed her mind? Could Keenan really fault me if the scale tipped in my favor and she fell in love with me?

  It feels shitty and sneaky to think this way, but I feel like I’m running out of options. A beautiful girl like Delia is an amazing catch, and there are a number of men in this town who would give their right arm to have her.

  Even thinking about another man having her, whether it’s a stranger or my own brother, infuriates me.

  Sneaky or not, I have to tip the scale. There’s no way I can stand to lose this girl.

  Feeling resolved and knowing that I have to do something to get Delia, I roll over and stare up at the moonlight illuminating my bedroom in the farmhouse. There is just too much on my mind for me to sleep.

  I feel like Delia is somehow my destiny. Like fate, brought me to this vast state--a place so far from my home. Besides, I saw Delia first. So, she must be meant to be mine.

  I pull the covers off my body, suddenly feeling too hot. I stalk over to the window to look outside. I’m wearing only my boxer shorts but there are no lights on in the room so I know no one can see me. Not that there is anyone nearby except for Delia.

  Delia.

  I look out the window and glance towards her farmhouse just a little ways away. None of her lights are on, at least I can’t see any. I pull open the window and sit on the ledge right in front of it, so I can see h
er house a little better.

  I wish she had at least one light on. Maybe in her bedroom? Then I could sit here and watch her change into her nightgown. The thought brings a smile to my face. What kind of nightgown would a girl like Delia have? Soft cotton with some dainty flowers on it.

  I imagine her in such a dress, how it would cling to her full breasts and fall gently around her hips. If it was real lose it might hide her narrow waist, only giving hints of how curvy she is when the light catches her a certain way.

  What if she doesn’t wear anything under her floral nightdress? The very thought makes my mouth water. I imagine how that light, airy dress might get caught in the covers and pull up to her strong thighs. Her long, tan, healthy legs twisted up in the covers as she sleeps. I could watch her sleep for hours, just hoping for a glimpse of her bare pussy.

  I shift in my seat, suddenly feeling my body flush at my dirty thoughts. My cock starts to harden and I rub it a bit through my boxers. Letting my imagination run wild, I dream about being in Delia’s room as she is sleeping peacefully. Watching her chest rise and fall with her breaths. She would be so peaceful, so innocent.

  But it would be even better if she found me there, clad as I am now, and ready to take her.

  She would wake up with a slight start; her eyes wide at the sight of me. But then, quickly, she would give me that lazy smile and maybe stretch just a bit. I’d watch her strong limbs twist with pleasure as she roused herself.

  “Hello, lass,” I’d whisper.

  “Rowan.”

  In my imagination, she eyes me from head to toe, taking an especially long time observing the bulge in my shorts. I rub myself, teasing my cock to make it harder and show her how much I want her.

  Delia pushes off her covers. She sits up in bed, a slight blush on her cheeks. Her long dark braid falls over one shoulder. Her other shoulder is bare, as the lose nightdress has fallen down off of it.

  My eyes take in the sight of the perfect tan skin of her shoulder. The moonlight reflects off of her, giving her a light glow.

  Her lips pucker, as she watches me looking at her.

  “See anything you like?” she asks breathlessly.

  “Aye.”

  She pouts more and leans down a bit to let her nightgown slip lower. The tops of her heavenly breasts start to show. They are round and perfect.

  “Why don’t you come over here and taste it?” she tells me, her voice heavy with lust.

  That’s all the invitation I need. I practically run to her bed and jump into the covers. My enthusiasm makes her giggle. But the moment turns serious as soon as I take her in my arms.

  Her lips are pillow soft and warm under mine. I run one of my hands up behind her head, treading my fingers through her hair, and pushing her lips into mine. She tastes just as good as the pie that she brought us our first day here. I nibble at her full lips, then move to her jawline and cover it with kisses.

  As I move my lips to her tender throat, I raise my other hand up from her waist to the side of her breasts. Gently, I run my hand over the curve of her breasts, feeling their shape under the soft, thin fabric of her gown. Delia leans into my touch. Beneath my palms, her nipples harden. I can feel them press into my hands and beg for my attention.

  Reaching up, I pull the strap of her nightdress down further until her nipples are fully exposed. The sight of her bare breasts makes me rock-hard. My cock aches and I briefly imaging shoving my dick in between them. But not tonight.

  Alone in my room, still staring out at Delia’s house, I pull my lonely cock out of my boxers and squeeze it. I pump myself over and over as I imagine taking one of her sweet nipples into my mouth and rolling my tongue around it. I suck it gently, urged on by the moans coming from Delia’s throat.

  Her head is thrown back and her eyes are clamped shut. Both her hands are laced through my hair, pulling my head and mouth closer to her body and her aching breasts.

  I put both my hands on her flesh, massaging her breasts as I suck each of her nipples and gently bite them. Each movement of mine, causes Delia’s perfect skin to flush and bump with delight. It’s as if I’m giving her little shivers of pleasure.

  The pulling of her hands brings out bodies closer. Delia shifts her weight and moves until she is on my legs and then on my lap. She wraps her knees under her and lifts up slightly; her breasts fill my face.

  With one hand, she guides my steely shaft in between her thighs until I’m positioned at her entrance. Then she lets gently moves off her knees and lets her own weight pull her down on top of me.

  My breath catches as I sink into her warm, wet pussy. She’s tight, so tight that I hardly fit and when I’m sheathed all the way inside her, she grips me so hard I can hardly move. Luckily for me, Delia is on top. She takes charge of the movement and starts pulling herself off of me, only to sink back down again. The feeling of her tight pussy enveloping me again is almost maddening. My cock strains, harder than I’ve ever felt before.

  Delia rides me like the stallion I am and she is good in the saddle. She not only pumps me up and down, she twists her hips so that my rod hits inside her at different angles. I clutch her breasts and keep massaging her nipples, urging her to take me harder and harder.

  She leans backward a bit and I feel my cockhead brush against her g-spot. She moves over me, riding me so that I rub her there over and over. Throwing back her head, Delia’s breath comes in pants now and I can feel her getting tighter around me.

  I’m so close. All I need is for Delia to come. Her pleasure will send me over the edge. As if she knows what I need, her breath hitches and she starts to gasp.

  “Oh my God!” she breathes.

  I feel her pussy grab me tight and I can’t hold on any longer. I come inside of her, feeling the tightness of my dick give way into pulses of pleasure as I fill her up with my essence. Her pussy takes it and asks for more.

  Alone in my room, my fantasy causes me to come. I spend myself into my hand; it’s both blissful and lonely. A fantasy is never as good as the real thing.

  As I clean myself up and return to bed, I keep thinking about the woman of my dreams. She is so close, but still so far away.

  Chapter Ten

  Keenan

  I’m outside the next morning, yawning my way through my morning tasks and thinking about Delia.

  I know she made the right call yesterday, telling us that she wasn’t going to choose between us. But that doesn’t mean I’m happy about it. She outright said that she has feelings for me, but I’m supposed to just ignore that?

  I don’t think I could do that if I tried. But there really isn’t an option here where everyone wins, and mulling it over in my brain is enough to drive me mad.

  Part of me wants to just go with my original plan and win her heart, but I know if I pull any other shit, Rowan might wash his hands of me for good.

  And even if I am in love with Delia, I can’t just throw that kind of wrench into my relationship with my brother. He might never forgive me.

  The cow I’m milking lets out a low sound of irritation. Apparently in my aggravation, I was a little too rough.

  “Sorry, girl,” I murmur, patting her side gently and focusing on the task at hand.

  Falling into a rhythm, the troubling thoughts seem to fall by the wayside. Instead, I remember the kiss I shared with Delia in her truck. That kiss had lit me on fire, and I wonder if maybe I could have taken it to the next step if I’d tried to.

  I can just picture it. I imagine her crawling across the seat and straddling my lap, her kisses growing more urgent as I grind my denim-clad erection against her.

  She’d been wearing a t-shirt that day, and I imagine her peeling it off. In this fantasy, I reach around her back and unhook her bra, exposing those luscious tits at my eye level. She reaches between us and wrestles my cock from my jeans.

  The mental image shocks me from my stupor and I shake my head. I finish up with the cow and decide I need a little break. I make my way into the house and lo
ck myself into my bedroom.

  My cock throbs, as if remembering Delia’s hands on it and aching for more. Curse my vivid imagination. Or bless it. I flop down on my bed and unbutton my jeans, drawing my erection from my boxers and wrapping my hand around the length of my shaft.

  My mind flickers back to the scene I’d been fantasizing about. I help Delia wriggle out of her jeans and panties, so her dripping pussy hovers over my waiting cock.

  I tease one of her nipples with my fingers while I trace my tongue over the other and she arches her back, moaning.

  “Oh, Keenan,” she breathes, “I want your cock inside me.”

  And I’m happy to oblige my lass, reaching between us to position my cock at the entrance to her tight hole. At first I tease her with just the head of my dick, making her whimper and grind against me, desperate for me to pound into her sweet pussy.

  “Please, Keenan, please,” she moans helplessly, “I need all of it.”

  I grip her hips and guide her down on it until I’m buried to the hilt in her velvety, wet heat.

  “Ooooooh, fuck,” she sighs, throwing her head back and rolling her hips, driving my cock in and out of her.

  “You feel so fucking good, Delia,” I groan, thrusting up into her.

  She puts her hands on my shoulders for balance, and my beautiful cowgirl begins to ride my cock like a fucking pro. Those perfect tits bounce with her movements and I can’t resist the urge to take a nipple between my teeth.

  She gasps sharply, her hips snapping forward and driving me deeper.

  “Oh, fuck, Keenan, I think I’m going to come,” she whimpers.

  I look up at her, still sucking on the sensitive flesh, and twirl my tongue around the tender bud in a way that makes her shudder. I feel the walls of her pussy clamping down on my cock as her climax overtakes her, and she screams my name as the pleasure quakes through her.