He withdrew his hand and his cock, straightening his pants as I hastily cleaned up.
“Lipstick?” I asked him.
He smirked, licked his thumb, and wiped at the corner of my lip. “Perfect now. Though I must say when you look all mussed is my favorite.”
“Of course it is, bad boy.” He swatted my ass as we washed up and headed back out to meet his family.
Our quickie seemed to have soothed the few nerves I was feeling, and Eamon’s warm palm encompassing mine made everything feel right. He led me to the rowdiest table in the pub. They stopped talking and looked up at us, smiles lighting their faces. The man and woman situated at the closest end stood and embraced Eamon before looking me over.
“And who’s this lovely betty?” Eamon’s Da asked.
He took one of my hands and the older woman, Eamon’s Mum, took my other.
Eamon beamed with pride. “Mum, Da, this is Laurel, my fiancée.”