Donnchadh - Lynn Hagen Page 0,3

“Yeah, I’m talking to you. What’s your name?”

“Gettysburg, but please call me Getty.”

One dark brow arched. “Did your parents hate you?”

That made Getty laugh. “I’ve asked them that a million times. My mom was a college professor, obsessed with Abraham Lincoln and that era.”

But damn, couldn’t she have chosen another name for him? Getty would’ve been happy with Abraham or even Lincoln. He been teased his whole life about his name, making his school years grueling.

His father even thought it was funny when he would say, “Gettysburg, get your address over here.”

Thank fuck he didn’t say that anymore.

“And your name?” Getty took another drink of his beer. It was getting warm, and he wanted another but didn’t want to get up. He was enjoying his conversation with the guy.

“Donnchadh, but call me Donny.”

Getty’s eyes widened. “And you’re making fun of my name?”

Don-cha. In truth, Getty liked it. It was unique, but not embarrassing like Gettysburg. It was even kind of exotic.

“It’s Irish.” Donnchadh winked. “You can even call me Duncan.”

“I think I like Donnchadh,” Getty said. “If that’s okay with you.”

“Shorty, you can call me whatever you like.” He patted the cushion next to him. “Why don’t you come closer so I can hear you better?”

Getty blew out a small breath. This was what he wanted, to get laid, but Donnchadh seemed so intimidating. Mysterious. Dangerous, even.

Getty would be doing himself a favor by getting up and walking away, but instead, like the idiot that he was, he moved closer, sharing Donnchadh’s couch with him.

“Much better.” Donnchadh was leaning on one arm, but he was still tall enough that Getty was able to look him in the eyes. “You come here just to party, or did you have something else on your mind?”

Getty sucked on his bottle as if his life depended on it. He finally lowered it and laughed. “God, I’m such a geek. I’m freaking out because some hot guy is hitting on me.”

Donnchadh smiled. “There’s no need to be nervous. We’re just two guys talking. Maybe more if things go right. Possibly something that’s completely natural.”

Donnchadh was smooth. Getty would give him that. “And what’s completely natural?”

Donnchadh smile widened. He took the bottle from Getty’s hand and set it on the table in front of them then crooked his finger.

Getty leaned in, and Donnchadh grazed his lips over Getty’s jaw. “Why don’t you let me show you?”

Fuck, had the temperature in the room gone up ten degrees? Getty’s body flushed as his cock hardened. “Okay.”

Donnchadh tucked a finger against Getty’s jaw and turned his head. He brushed his lips over Getty’s, soft, sensual, stealing Getty’s very breath.

“Take me back to your place,” Donnchadh whispered.

Those words were like a bucket of ice dumped over his head. Getty pulled back and shook his head. “We can’t.”

Donnchadh lured Getty back to him, back to his lips, back to what felt like their own private world. “Then let me take you to mine.”

Getty had enough sense left in his addled brain to say, “How about a motel?”

That damn smile was going to ruin him. Straight white teeth, dimples. Fuck, Getty was ready to get naked right on the couch.

“My treat.” Donnchadh got up and pulled Getty to his feet. They made their way down the steps, Donnchadh leading the way. No one stepped on their feet, got in the way, or bumped into them. It was as if everyone cleared a path for Donnchadh.

“Where’s your ride?” Getty asked when they were finally outside. It wasn’t until they didn’t have a crowd of people around them that Getty really noticed their size difference. His head came to Donnchadh’s pecs. And damn, all those freaking muscles.

“We’ll take yours,” Donnchadh said. “That way you have a means to escape when you’re done ravishing me.”

God, there went Getty’s blush again. His face went nuclear as he showed Donnchadh to his car. He wasn’t even sure the guy would fit, but Donnchadh did, and he slouched when he settled in.

Of course he’d had to move the passenger seat all the way back, and he still looked a bit uncomfortable.

Getty drove through town, his heart beating like crazy as he made his way to Maple Inn.

It was Donnchadh who got out and paid for the room. He came back and leaned his arm on the roof of Getty’s car. “Ready to have some fun?”

He opened the door and held out his hand. Getty laid his hand in Donnchadh’s and let the guy pull him out.

Shit. He was