by Magan Vernon
My body flooded with warmth, spreading up my neck and face. “You didn’t have to. You don’t have to do any of this. I feel like I’m taking advantage of the whole situation.”
“You’re not taking advantage of me. You may just have to buy me more Cheetos in exchange for golf lessons,” he said, pulling into a parking lot.
“I think I’d need more than a million bags of Cheetos to pay you back for everything. It means the world that you’re willing to help my nana and me.”
He put his car in park and leaned over, placing his hand on my cheek. “No need to thank me, ever. You and I, we’re in this together.”
I forced a smile, but dread sank where there were once butterflies. This was an agreement, and I had to keep remembering that, no matter how much my heart and my body were telling me this was so much more.
Connor got out of the car, grabbing our bags before we walked into the grand foyer. He breezed through check-in like he’d been here a million times. Which he probably had. He was heir to a billion-dollar company, and I was a very broke girl who couldn’t get too used to this. But today I’d enjoy the time I had with Connor.
We went up a grand staircase and then down a small hallway to a private corner that only had one door. He slid in the key card, and we went in. My eyes widened, staring at the view of the lush green landscape from the picture window. A sitting area with two plush beige couches and a dining table sat right in front of the window. Just this area was bigger than my flat. In the bedroom, which had an equally spectacular view, a four-post bed stood grandly in the middle of the room.
“Like it?” Connor whispered in my ear before pressing his lips to my cheek. I stilled, trying to figure out my next move. If I turned to embrace him, then what would happen next? One small peck, then he’d make up an excuse to step away?
“Something wrong?” he asked, running his hands down my arms, leaving goose bumps in their wake.
I sucked in a breath, mustering up all the courage I could before I turned in his arms, keeping my gaze on his arms, where his shirt bulged against his muscles, instead of on his face.
With the past rejections, I couldn’t take another one. But if I was going to test out this fairy tale and live in the moment, then I had to go with my rapidly beating heart. “Why?”
His hands stilled. “Why what?”
“Why all of this? If it’s just a thing to get your company, why not just hand me a contract and be done with it?”
When he pressed his body flush with mine, every will I had to pull away started to melt as he slowly cupped my face.
“Fallon,” he growled. “I told you I was going to take care of you. I meant every word I said. You should know how I feel by now about all of this.”
“And you should know that I feel the same, okay? I don’t want us to muck this up, either, but I can’t stop thinking…” My words trailed off. I’d already said too much, and now it was probably time to just shut up and play the role of the good fake girlfriend.
His thumb brushed against my lip, every nerve in my body coming alive in response as I let out a ragged breath.
“If we do this, there’s no going back. I want you so badly it’s all I can think about. If we start this, I’m not stopping until you come at least seven times.” His raspy words spilled onto my lips so I could taste him.
“Seven…?” I managed to squeak out.
He smiled, his hands trailing to my waist, leaving goose bumps in their wake. “Luck of the Irish, mo grá.”
He crushed his lips to mine, and all reason to say no left my body. All I could do was get lost in his mouth. “Tell me you want this. If you want me to call my solicitor, we can write up a contract, so everything stays in place,” he whispered, breaking our kiss as his mouth traveled to my neck.
“I don’t want to talk about contracts right now. I just want to feel.” I grabbed his shoulders, his muscular back flexing against my touch.
He groaned, lifting me at the hips and wrapping my legs around his waist. His erection pressed against me, the mere friction pooling desire in my core. “Yes,” he agreed.
I was lost in the narcotic power of his voice and strong arms, carrying me to the plush bed before he set me down, only to free me of my jeans and underwear as if he couldn’t get to my body fast enough.
My need for him defied reason, every little touch fueling a fire within me that had been stirring for far too long.
He loomed over me then slowly kneeled at the edge of the bed, breathing against my core before running his thumb along my center. I hauled in a breath, willing my body not to shake from this man’s touch.
“Do you know how beautiful you are, mo chroí?” he whispered into me. I sucked in my bottom lip, desire pooling deep within me.
I’d never been called beautiful by anyone other than him, and with his possessive gaze, I felt every bit wanted in his presence.
He hooked a finger inside of me, my body humming from the aching tension as I bucked my hips forward to his touch.
“You’re so wet already,” he growled, moving his brazen hand against me.
I gripped the sheets. I was weightless, focused on nothing but Connor’s beautiful smile and the building crescendo between my thighs.
“Don’t hold back,” he whispered, his fingers working magic. My vision blurred and I cried out, riding out the beautiful earthquake coursing through me.
“One,” he whispered, leaning over and running his tongue down my center.
My voice quavered, and I wasn’t even sure I could speak. I’d wanted this for so long, and now that I had Connor, I closed my eyes, ingraining his scent and the wild skill of his tongue into my memory.
Ripples of pleasure poured through me, leaving me trembling as I gripped his hair, not wanting this moment to end, wanting to stay forever in the euphoria of him.
A second climax rolled through me, and I saw stars, feeling them shoot through me.
I’d barely come down from the high of orgasm number two before he twirled his fingers and tongue at a frenzied pace, my body moving with his like we’d done this a million times.
Crying out my climax, I lay against the silky pillows, my body still humming and reeling in the perfection that was now.
Slowly he dragged his hand to my side and moved his mouth to the apex of my thighs. I trembled, already missing his touch.
“Don’t worry; I’ve got more where that came from,” he whispered huskily before sitting up and pulling my satiated body to his.
“Lift your arms,” he beckoned with breathless urgency.
I did so, even though my body was like jelly. But just hearing his bossy tone had me sitting straight, willing to do anything he asked. Whipping off my shirt and unhooking my bra, he tossed both of them to the side before he savored my hardened buds. I’d dreamt about having Connor this close to me and now having his mouth explore my every curve pushed all my doubts to the back of my mind. I focused only on the urgent need for him flowing through me.
I ran my fingers down his back, trying to memorize every dip and curve of him. His hand went between us, finding my center as I relished in the feel of his featherlight kisses trailing up my neck.
“Connor,” I breathed. I rocked my hips to meet his palm, desire already pooling deep within me before I erupted, shaking around his expert hand.
“I love the way you moan my name when you come,” he growled.
I couldn’t concentrate on his words, my heart beating in my ears as I came down from another orgasm. I never wanted this connection to end, because it was the closest I’d been to this man, and I didn’t have to think about anything but being lost in this ecstasy.
The narcotic power of him had me aching for more, even though I had only got done with orgasm number four.
“Why are you still dressed? I asked breathlessly.
“I wanted to make sure you were taken care of first,” he murmured before unbuttoning his shirt then tossing it to the ground.
I ran my hands down
the dips and curves of his abs to his delicious four-leaf clover tattoos.
“You can touch all you want, mo chroí.”
His words tugged at my heart. I pulled him closer by his belt loops, crushing my lips to his and tasting my own saltiness.
I made quick work of his jeans and boxers, sliding them down. Then he leaned back, helping me shuck them to the floor.
I moved to straddle his lap, his erection swelling against me. The tiny graze of his length on my belly button made my pulse race straight to my core.
“I can feel how wet you are for me. Do you feel what you’re doing to me, mo grá?” he murmured, gripping my waist. He wasn’t even inside of me, and I was already clenching, the pressure building within me.
He smiled, pressing his lips to my ear. “You’re so damn responsive. It’s so feckin’ hot.”
“Please tell me you have a condom,” I whimpered, urgent need flowing through me. I didn’t want this to end. I needed to feel all of this man I’d wanted for so long and know I was the one garnering that lustful stare.
He smiled and kissed me quickly. He gently moved my still humming body to the side before grabbing his jeans and pulling out his wallet. “I didn’t know if we’d be using this or not, but I wanted to be prepared.”
I grabbed the foil from his hands and unwrapped the latex. My hands couldn’t move quick enough to suit me as I slid it over his impressive length. His abs tightened, and a low growl escaped his throat.
His hooded eyes met mine as he finally held on to me and guided his massive length inside of me.
Slowly I slid forward, relishing in his fullness, then pressed my lips to his, breathing him in. He grabbed my waist, guiding me to a faster rhythm. My breasts bounced between us, brushing against the wisps of hair on his chest, and my body hummed at the new sensation.
I panted, building up an even speed that cracked the air from my lungs. With one hand still on my hip, he took his other and moved it between us. With delicate fingers, he rolled in a motion counter to his thrusts. I slammed my eyes shut, pure pleasure taking over the forefront of my mind.
“Oh. My. God,” I wailed, shuddering as I leaned my head against his shoulder, little aftershocks prickling inside of me while he continued thrusting.
“Think you can handle one more, pinky?” he murmured against my flesh.
I nodded against him before he flipped me onto my back, my legs over his shoulders. Every sensation running through me twisted in a ball of pleasure. I swallowed hard, looking up from his toned abs to his hooded eyes. He raised my hips and moved slowly at first, pulling almost entirely out before filling me to the hilt with long, slow strokes.
Every touch unfurled any resistance I had. At that moment, it was just us, connected.
“Come on, mo grá,” he said, tracing my clit while he moved his hips to meet mine.
Just hearing him use the beautiful Irish names for me was enough to make me forget about everything looming over us. Nothing mattered but us being entwined.
Ripples of pleasure skated through me, and I cried out, going over the edge so I saw stars and felt the explosion all through my body.
He breathed my name before collapsing at my side.
We lay there, both of us saying nothing as he wrapped his arm around my waist and intertwined our fingers.
If I weren’t already falling for Connor Murphy, there was no denying that I was now. I didn’t want to think about temporary dates or contracts. All I wanted to do was stay in this moment where nothing mattered but my hand in his and the matching beats of our hearts.
Chapter Nineteen
Connor
I’d had plenty of girls, but none turned me on like Fallon.
Fuck.
I shouldn’t have slept with her. But now that I had, there was no way I could stop.
As much as I wanted to lie with her forever, we both needed to get back to reality.
“I’m going to shower before our tee time,” I said, finally standing from the bed.
She rolled onto her back, all her beautiful creamy flesh spread on the silky sheets. My cock strained as I watched the rise and fall of her chest, with her hardened little pink nipples still raw from my mouth.
“You still want to play golf after that?” She raised an eyebrow, barely lifting her head off the pillow.
I laughed and then took a deep, satisfied breath. “You’re right. I’ll move it to tomorrow. You take a little nap, okay? And I’ll catch up on emails,” I said before leaning over and placing a kiss on her forehead, ignoring the lingering need to crawl back in bed with her.
“Mmmm, sounds good,” she murmured, and I pulled the blanket over her naked body, her eyelids fluttering.
I showered and got dressed, and when I emerged, Fallon was fast asleep, curled onto her side.
I couldn’t walk away.
I found myself sliding up next to her, pulling out my phone to look at emails instead of taking out my laptop.
What the hell was this girl doing to me?
Why was my heart beating faster and my stomach tied in knots just from being close to her?
This trip, and marriage, were supposed to be for the business, not pleasure. Yet I still couldn’t help myself when it came to her, and instead of moving, I stayed where I was, curled up next to my future fake wife.
While I was busying myself on social media, an email popped up from Fiona O’Hara. All Set. She’s going to love it.
I looked from my phone to the sleeping girl on the bed next to me.
In the beginning, I made all these grand promises to woo her into the deal. I said we should make it believable so no one would question us together. But now those lines were slowly slipping, and I had trouble telling what was for the facade of the fake marriage and what was real.
I did know, out of everything, I was enjoying the little time I had with her. Especially on a weekend that wasn’t all about keeping appearances of a happy couple for the company.
I set my phone down and got under the covers, wrapping my arm around her waist and pressing my body to her supple and still very naked one.
She moved closer, taking my hand and intertwining our fingers. I let out a small breath, my body relaxing against hers.
This was where I belonged at that moment—where I didn’t need to think about our future or anything else.
…
I woke up suddenly, wondering how long I’d been out. Glancing at the clock, the red numbers alerted me it was half past six. My eyes trailed from the clock to the side of the bed where Fallon lay on her side, her blond hair splayed on the pillow between us.
Earlier, I’d set up a tee time then made reservations for dinner in the train car. She never asked for a damn thing and instead tried to refuse and offer me Cheetos.
I decided to cancel. Staying in for the night couldn’t hurt, and we could talk about drawing up a contract. That’s what I told myself, at least, and tried to ignore the other nagging feeling that tugged at my chest.
Slowly, I crept out of bed, careful not to wake her. Then I made my way to the living room where I picked up a menu from the coffee table then grabbed the room phone and called the front desk.
“Reception, how can I assist you?” a pleasant woman’s voice asked.
“Yes, I’d like room service,” I stated.
“Okay, sir, I’ll get you transferred to dining.”
“All right.”
She sent me over to a man with an accent thicker than my father’s. “Dining. Can I make ye a reservation?”
“Just room service.”
“Okay, sir, what’ll you have?”
If I asked Fallon, she’d probably pick the cheapest thing on the menu because that’s the kind of girl she was. She didn’t ever want to put anyone out. It was something I liked about her, and yet it maddened me at the same time.
“I’ll take one of everything,” I said, nodding to myself. I wanted to give this girl everything, to treat her, no matter how much she pushed back.
r /> The man sputtered. “One of every what?”
“Everything on the appetizers, and one of every soup, every salad, entrée, and dessert.”
The man laughed. “Is this a joke, or are you feeding an army?”
“Neither. How long until my order is ready? The sooner, the better.”
“Right away, sir. We’ll get it up as fast as we can.”
“Thank you,” I said, hanging up the phone just as Fallon slowly opened the doors that separated the bedroom and living area.
She smiled, her mussed up hair falling down her shoulders and a fluffy white robe falling just to her knees. I couldn’t stop staring at her and cleared my throat, trying to dart my gaze away from her before speaking.
“Come. Sit with me. I was just ordering dinner,” I said, moving to the edge of the couch.
“Ordering?” she asked, taking the seat next to me. I curled my arm around her waist and pulled her close, her back resting against my chest. The move was instinctive, like we’d done it a dozen times, and I found my body relaxing.
“Yeah. Room service. Wasn’t sure if you’d be able to walk down to dinner.” I laughed and trailed my hands down to her waist until I felt the bare skin of her leg where her robe rode up her thighs. She sucked in a breath, and a band of desire wound through me all over again.
“I just ordered,” I murmured into her hair, grazing my hand just below her panty line, watching goose bumps prick her skin.
“I’ve never had room service. It’s kind of a bucket-list thing,” she said, so low I barely heard her.
“Are you serious?” I asked, stilling my hand as I sucked in a breath.
“That I have a bucket list? Or the room service thing?” she asked with a slight shrug as if it were nothing.
“What else is on this bucket list?”
“Just silly things. I crossed off one by traveling to a different country, but I haven’t done much since I’ve been here. Until you came along, that is. But you probably don’t care to hear about all of this.” She kept her eyes on her hands instead of looking at me.