It’s the truth, but I’m still hard. Because she’s here, and she is soft, and she is wanting—something Princess Aurora of New Jersey isn’t. Every part of Kathleen is hot, not cold like Rory is, but it’s easy to ignore that when you’re bollocksed. Especially as there’s a part of Kathleen that’s Rory, too—a chunk of DNA and genes that Rory could never take away from this village. From me. Kiki is right here, in Tolka, ready for me to screw her to death. And I’m hard, so fecking hard I’m straining against my Dickie’s.

Oh, how I wish I were more like Daniel or Sean or Jake or any of my mates who could just sleep with Kiki because she is here.

“Get off,” I huff, shaking my head. “Please, darlin’. You’re better than what you’re doing right now.”

But Kathleen’s hands are everywhere. They’re on my chest and shoulders and back and face. They cup my jaw, and she dips down and kisses me, deep and punishing and cruel. With tongue and hatred and frustration. She kisses me like I did something horrible to her, and now I need to pay.

My head spins like a broken roundabout. I mumble, “Stop. Stop. Stop.”

She presses her palm against my hard-on and squeezes. “If you didn’t want it, you wouldn’t be hard.”

“Younedda stop,” I slur.

She unbuckles my belt, ignoring my command. My mind is a gray fog of floating thoughts, but I still manage to put things together. Her new fondness for short skirts and dresses makes for easy access. She planned this all along. And she always brings something to eat and alcohol when she is over. Coincidence? I think not.

I feel her warm, wet cunt descending over my throbbing cock.

“Kathleen, I don’t want to fuck you,” I repeat, as coherently as I possibly can.

The thought of this happening makes me sick. Because I know Rory would never take me if she knew I slept with her sister. Selfishly, that is the first reason, with the second being I don’t want to hurt or delude Kiki.

“You are fucking me,” she hisses, licking the length of my neck. “And you’re going to continue until you come.”

She slides up, then down, building friction, and my balls tighten.

“No.”

“Yes. Mal, I’m so wet for you,” she says.

And it is true. She is the wettest I’ve ever had, I think.

Fuck Rory.

Fuck Rory who fucked me over, thinking we were only just a fuck.

I’m shagging her sister now, and they say revenge tastes sweet, but the bitterness that explodes on my tongue is so tangible, I want to puke.