O'Gallagher Nights: The Complete Series
One Night Stand
About Last Night
All Night Long
by Mignon Mykel
Date Released: November 30, 2016
About O'Gallagher Nights: The Complete Series
The three O'Gallagher siblings, all in one set. Includes bonus material!
O’Gallaghers has been a long-lasting establishment in San Diego, known for its Irish brews and fare. When the next generation of O’Gallaghers take over though, it becomes known for a little bit more…
1.) ONE NIGHT STAND
Conor O'Gallagher runs his family pub. He's proud, he's business minded, and he's every bit a bachelor. O'Gallaghers' female patrons know he's up for a good time, one night only. Forever is not on his radar.
But what happens when one night gives him a little more than he bargained for?
Conor's about to find out...
2.) ABOUT LAST NIGHT
Like his brother, Rory O'Gallagher likes his women, and all but one have come to him easily and willingly.
Never has he had to work so hard for one as he's had to Emily Winters. As cold and dismissive as she is, Rory can't help but want to heat her up.
Will she thaw toward him long enough for him to get his taste? Can he prove to her he's not what she thinks?
He's certainly going to try.
3.) ALL NIGHT LONG
The youngest of the three, Brenna O'Gallagher lived through rumors and lies--or so her brothers think. In truth, there's more to Brenna than many people know.
When she vowed off men, she never thought she'd be tempted by a man her brothers hired for O'Gallaghers.
She knows nothing but secrets, and Greyson Stone is starting to threaten them.
Can she allow him in? And can she share him with the world?
Brenna's not so sure.
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Excerpts from O'Gallagher Nights: The Complete Series
One Night Stand
I had been damn near positive Curly would leave in the hours between our chat and close, but nope. She sat at her high top, one leg crossed over the other, nursing the bottle of water I left with her. Sometimes she’d lean against the table, others she’d sit up straight. But always, her eyes were on me and my movements.
I knew what women like her saw when they watched me.
A man whom she considered was just out of her league. A man who would never take a moment to appreciate the plain shirt and jean-clad legs, hair in a mess of a bun, while women with perfect hair and perfect faces and perfect tits falling out of their hardly-there shirts leaned over my bar.
But pussy was pussy. Tits were tits.
And every now and then, it was fun to throw something different in the mix.
I glanced over my shoulder at the clock before turning back to the last of the bar’s customers. “Closing time, ladies.” As was usual, I was the last to be in the bar. My cooks left at eleven; the last of the barmaids left an hour ago, and Stone left an hour before that.
“What are you up to tonight, Conor?” a fucking gorgeous brunette asked me. Her eyes met mine, but not before checking out my junk.
Not that she could see much of anything under the heavy fabric of this kilt.
I was up, all right, but it wasn’t for this brunette. It was for the one who kept her heavy gaze in my direction, who kept licking her fucking pink, full lips. Kept drawing in that lower lip. Kept squeezing her fucking knees together as she sat with her legs crossed.
She was just as impatient as I was.
Most of the women generally were.
About Last Night
The very last thing I could remember about last night was sitting on the back stoop of O’Gallaghers, bawling.
My life just went from shitty to shittier.
I don’t suppose it was really all that bad, but after working a double at O’Gallaghers, I had raced home so I could study for my first major test in my nursing lecture course, only to find out I misplaced my keys somewhere during my walk home.
After starting at O’Gallaghers, I did indeed get rid of my car. Between not having television or a car, and working doubles at O’Gallaghers, I’d been able to afford school and something more than ramen and Kraft Macaroni Dinners. I splurged on Shapes though, because yeah, they were better than the Original.
I would cut out the internet expense too, but I needed that for school.
Anyway, I got home at one in the morning only to discover I hadn’t grabbed my keys in my hurry to get a few hours in of studying. I had been planning on studying until two, sleeping until nine, then going to my review with Conor and Rory, before finally heading to class. Everything worked out in my head.
I should have freaking known better. Nothing ever worked as planned.
I got home, couldn’t get in, and had to turn back to the pub. Unfortunately, by the time I got back, Rory had already locked up. Having no place to go, I sat on the back stoop, put my head in my hands, and cried.
Cut corners, and eventually they bite you in the ass…and I’m pretty sure mine just did.
So, that was the last of what I remembered.
Somehow, though, I ended up in a bed. I started to come to when the body I had thrown myself against started to move, but it wasn’t until the body moved and I could hear someone peeing in a nearby bathroom that I opened my eyes and looked around.
The bedroom was huge. I frowned.
Why was I in a bedroom?
Frantically, I looked down to reassure myself I was in my clothes.
Thank the good Lord.
What happened though?
I turned around and sat up, rubbing my hand over my face and then looked around the room for a clock.
I was due to meet Rory and Conor like… now!
I scrambled out of the bed and looked around for shoes, spotting them tossed carelessly at the foot of the bed. I pulled myself to stand and just as I was about to slip my feet into my well-worn Birkenstock sandals that had been a gift…
Rory O’fucking-Gallagher came walking out of the bathroom.
Oh my God.
Oh my flipping God.
I spent the night in Rory O’Gallagher’s bed.
I threw my body over his. Ok, just my leg, but oh my God, my leg touched something on him!
I swallowed hard, staring at him as he stood in the doorway of what must have been the bathroom. He stood there, all hard body, messy reddish-brown hair, with a delicious morning shadow.
“What,” he finally said. “No thank you?”
All Night Long
“Dance with me?” I asked, picking up her hand in mine.
She sat up and smiled slightly. “Sure?” Her brows drew in for a moment, making me chuckle.
“Don’t worry about the music, Angel.”
If anything, that made her frown deepen, but still she rose from the couch when I pulled her to stand, willingly moving into my body when I brought her closer.
With both of her small hands in one of mine I brought her closer, my other hand to the small of her back. She was pressed against me everywhere and I fucking loved it. She was a little stiff, but my guess would be she simply felt awkward. Hell, there was no music—it was slightly awkward.
But I brought my A-game tonight.
I was no Justin Timberlake, but I could sing when needed.
With my voice low and soft, I sang to her, our bodies rocking slightly back and forth in the light of her living room. I sang to her a classic Sinatra song, and led that into “Till It’s Over,” my version a little more sensual and slower than the version she swayed to in the Jeep earlier. When I got to the ‘naked making out’ part though, Brenna pulled back laughing.
It was the most alive I had seen her face in the short time I’d known her. “They don’t say that!” Her eyes were bright, her smile wide, but she didn’t pull her hands from the cage mine put them in.
I grinned crookedly. “But they do. You’ve interrupted my song.” My hand on her lower back rubbed in small circles. “…or keep our clothes on. Don't—”
“But those aren’t the words. It’s ‘makin’ makin’ out.’”
I barked out a laugh, my own smile growing wide. “This isn’t Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, Brenna.”
“Seriously though? ‘Naked makin’ out?’”
Reluctantly, I let go of her hands to pull my phone from my pocket. I was more than pleased when she kept her hands on my chest, spreading her fingers over me. I kept my hand on her back though, not wanting to let go of any more points of contact. Quickly, I pulled up a search result for the lyrics to the Old Dominion song and double-tapped the screen, zooming in on the first verse.
With my thumb under the words, I showed her the phone. “See? Naked makin’ out.”
She spoke through her wide smile, shaking her head. “That’s ridiculous.”
I tossed my phone toward the couch, kind of thankful it actually landed on the couch and not the hardwood floor, and wrapped my arm around her shoulders, pulling her impossibly close. Lowering my head toward her ear, I swayed us back and forth to the music in my head. “But it’s true,” I whispered to her.
She burrowed into me, slipping her arms around my waist, and swayed with me as I sang her the rest of the song.
Hot Holiday Nights
“You ready?” I called out. She was in the bathroom packing up our toiletries in a separate bag. She was in a much better mood this morning but even if she were still pissy over the dog, I was sure that the moment we hit snow up north, she’d be happy again. Because who the hell didn’t get excited over snow?
“Did you want the green or blue bottle of Axe?” she replied. I grabbed the overstuffed duffle and walked toward the bathroom, dropping the bag to the floor and stepping into the small space. It was tiny and really couldn’t fit the two of us, but I found I liked small spaces with Emily. She was currently standing outside the standing shower stall, glass door wide open, as she considered the bottles in the hang-up caddy.
I stepped right behind her, keeping a small distance from her body. I loved the way her tall, willowy body aligned with mine and my cock twitching under my jeans wasn’t ever shy to tell her, so I kept my distance. “Green,” I answered.
She leaned into the shower, stretching in and thrusting her ass out toward me and I fought a groan. I wanted nothing more than to run my hand up her back, around her side, down her front…
But I was taking my damn time with her. I waited this long—after royally embarrassing myself—I could hold myself back until she was completely ready to take this to the next level.
I wasn’t going anywhere.
Even if I teased myself mercilessly in the meantime.
She stepped back and into me, stumbling and reaching a hand out toward the glass door jamb to steady herself. “Rory!”
I helped steady her by grabbing her hip with my hand. “Sorry,” I said chuckling. “I thought you heard me come in.”
“I did,” she said, turning in my arms. Her upturned face brought her lips so incredibly close to mine. I could lean in, take the sweetness that was presenting itself…but I want going to. Not yet. “I just didn’t think you’d be that close.” She stepped around me and put the bottle in the bag holding all our other bathroom items.
“We need a bigger place,” I answered, hoping it came off in a semi-off-handed manner. Like the puppy, I was trying to give her some long-term items in hopes she’d be willing to take the next step.
“Maybe when I graduate in fifty bajillion years,” she grumbled as she zipped the bag.
“Less than two, actually.”
She turned her head toward me, her face twisted in amusement. “You’re keeping track?”
“For when you get out of the terrible twos and temper tantrums? Fuck yes,” I joked, reaching for her hips and pulling her in, easing the jest with a quick kiss to her lips, finally taking a fraction of what I wanted.
“I’m not that bad,” she said against my lips.
“Oh, Emily.” I shook my head, pulling my head back but keeping my hand on her, sliding it to her lower back. She was currently in leggings and a long-sleeved t-shirt of mine, allowing me to still feel the dips and grooves of her lower back and spine under the cotton. In the matter of a few hours, she’d be in a bulky sweatshirt. I had to get my feels in. “You are that bad.”
About Mignon Mykel
Mignon Mykel is the author of the Prescott Family series, as well as the short-novella erotic romance series O'Gallagher Nights. When not sitting at Starbucks writing whatever her characters tell her to, you can find her hiking in the mountains of her new home in Arizona.
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