Lucky This Isn't Real: MacBride Brothers Series St. Patrick's Day Fake Fiance Romance

by Jamie Knight

  He chuckled. “Not what I meant.”

  “Oh,” I gasped in both pleasure and realization as his fingers brushed the crotch of my panties. “Yes, please! I’ll never say no to that kind of dessert.”

  With some shifting, we got my panties off without even disturbing my skirt. Little did I know Sean was intent on torturing me. Starting at my left foot, he kissed and licked his way toward my pussy, only to veer off across my pelvis and down my other leg.

  “Oh dear,” he said, releasing my big toe which he’d been sucking, “I do appear to have taken a detour.”

  “Damn straight, get back between my legs, now, Mister.”

  “Yes, ma’am!”

  With no further prelude or ado, he dropped his head between my thighs, burying his face in my pussy.

  “Fuck!” I screamed as he used his beautiful tongue and talented fingers to bring me to the upper gates of pleasure.

  I felt like I was going to explode. And then I did. All the pent-up energy inside me burst out at once in a blast of pure white light, which was all I could see for a long time.

  Then he was kissing me again. The soft smacking sounds unmistakable. He kissed my pussy, and it felt really nice. Slowly coming back to myself, I stroked his hair as he showed his love.

  I smiled lazily. “Your turn, I think.”

  “If you insist.”

  “I do.”

  He was already hard when I got his cock out, feeling it throb with gratitude in my gentle hands.

  “I missed you today,” I said.

  “And I missed you. More than you can imagine.”

  I got right to work, lovingly sucking the flared head while continuing to work his shaft with both hands. Not one to receive without giving, Sean caressed his hand down my back and over my ass, finding my pussy and gently fingering me as I sucked him off. He came fast, and without missing a beat, I swallowed. I sucked him clean, then mounted his cock, needing to feel him inside me.

  We were celebrating after all, even if I was still a bit iffy on the cause for celebration. At the very least, I could get some great sex out of it.

  I was uncontrollable. Sean put his hands on my hips but more to keep me safe than to try and reign me in. The entire couch moved, inching back a good foot from its original position, moving with the sheer force of my riding.

  I slammed myself up and down with wild abandon. I didn’t want to hurt him and did my best not to go too hard, but it was difficult. I loved it so much and got close to a jackhammer at times in terms of intensity. Finally, we both released. Sean unloaded his flood of cum inside me as my inner muscles milked him.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, holding him in the aftermath.

  “Yeah, I’m good, are you?”

  I laughed. “Yep, fully exorcised and back to normal.”

  “Glad to hear it,” he said, kissing me on the top of my head.

  “I love you, Sean MacBride.”

  “I love you more, Darcy Matthews.”

  Chapter Eighteen - Sean

  A feel of comfort had set in, like settling into a nice duvet. The first few times I’d been to Darcy’s place, there was a sense of disconnection, like I was invading her space, despite what we ended up doing there.

  To be comfortable, particularly with cohabitation, there needed to be a connection beyond acquaintance. I’d certainly built that with Darcy and, despite myself, thought of her place as my place.

  Darcy didn’t have a guest room, not that we needed one anyway, the couch sufficing much of the time for our adventures. Ones I very much wanted to continue, even after my L.A. vacation, which was fast coming to an end.

  A cool sheet greeted me when I reached for her. The glowing red digits on the clock read a time just before noon, so it didn’t take a genius to figure out what happened. I was touched in a weird way. Not only had she not wanted to wake me when she woke up, but she saw fit to leave me alone in her apartment. This was a silent shift in our relationship.

  Getting into the shower alone, already missing her touch, I scrubbed down and made plans for what to do with the day. I didn’t have any work to do, which was still quite a new experience, and everyone I knew in town was at work or otherwise occupied.

  As if a sign from the heavens, my phone rang.

  “Hey, honey,” I said, expecting Darcy, though even if it had been Gavin, it would have at least been funny.

  “Gavin? This is Darcy’s mother.”

  “Mrs. Matthews, sorry, I, um, thought you were Darcy.”

  “That’s what I gathered. How about since we’re going to be family, you call me Matilda?”

  “Deal,” I said, already feeling the heat rise in my cheeks.

  I’d only met her a few times, but Mrs. Matthews had grown on me, certainly more than Mr. Matthews, whom I still wanted to strangle with my bare hands for what he did to Darcy. Not until he died, just until he blacked out. It was strange the violence that could manifest in my soul. I really didn’t think of myself as a violent person, but if someone hurt me or, worse, someone I loved, I could be very focused and decisive with my retribution. Particularly if I didn’t like them already. I hadn’t been kidding about punching Harry Ashton’s nose at the garden party. A fact that surprised me as much as anyone.

  “Darcy isn’t here right now.”

  “I know that silly, she’s at work, that’s why I called your cell phone. I got your number from Darcy.”

  “To what do I owe the pleasure.”

  “I wanted you to come by and look over the groom’s options. We’re pretty much decided on the bride, but you have decisions to make as well.”

  “Of course,” I said, trying to be agreeable. “What’s the address. I know I was there for the garden party, but I’m not sure where it is exactly.”

  “Oh, no need to bother with all that. I’ll send a car for you. It should be there within the hour, accounting for traffic. The place where we had the garden party is our weekend residence. During the week, we live in our apartment.”

  Of course, they did.

  The only time I’d ever heard someone refer to sending a car, it was either a limo or for a drive-by, and for some reason, I doubted Matilda had connections in the criminal underworld. Even if she did, she wouldn’t use them on the likes of me. We were on the same side, or at least, so I hoped. Still, the idea of taking a private limo to the place of someone rich enough to dispatch such a thing wasn’t much less nerve-wracking. I knew Darcy’s family was loaded but was only starting to get a real idea of how much they had. As if the garden party wasn’t enough of a hint. In my part of the world, the only person who had garden parties that well-publicized was Queen Elizabeth.

  The car was already there when I went down to meet it. I’d made an effort to look presentable. I didn’t have a tie, but I was pretty sure that wasn’t a hanging offense, even in California.

  “Sir,” said the driver, opening the back door for me.

  The ride wasn’t nearly long enough, in my estimation, though there was a tendency among humans to want pleasant experiences to last as long as possible. However, it was long enough to give me a real taste for it and how people could get used to it.

  I still loathed most of the rich people I’d dealt with, but that was more for their personality than their lifestyle. Someone could have a solid gold toilet as long as they weren’t a jerk about it or, more specifically, thought it gave them a license to be a jerk. Material wealth was not an excuse for poverty of personality.

  “We are here, sir.”

  I wondered if I should give the driver a tip, like a taxicab. It really was a mystery how such things were supposed to work. He didn’t put out his hand or anything, so I figured it wasn’t expected. The last thing I needed was to commit a faux pas.

  “Name?” asked the doorman, with all possible neutrality.

  “Sean McBride to see Matilda Matthews.”

  He nodded, stepped out of the way, and opened the door for me. “Welcome, sir.”

  “Thank you,
” I said with a nod.

  I’d agreed to come mostly because I didn’t know how to decline Matilda’s kind offer, but I was also curious to learn more about why Darcy’s dad was so determined to marry Darcy off to Harry Ashton of all people. I found it difficult to fathom how someone could have such little concern for their own child’s happiness. Even I could tell there was no way she could be happy with him and not just because I was convinced she was supposed to be with me and I with her. Yet, daddy dearest seemed determined that she obey him. The most plausible explanation was that it had more to do with his ego and wanting everything to go his own way, like the king he thought he was. Were it not considered rude, I would have put the bastard in a headlock the minute I had the chance at the garden party. I certainly was tempted but let my calmer temperament rule. Knowing I would probably never see Darcy again if I gave in to my baser instincts.

  There was a gold-plated plaque next to the elevator that listed who lived on each floor. There must have been hundreds of names, piling up into a summit of information reaching near the ceiling. The Matthews apartment was at the top. Matthews, G. the prick had put the listing in his name. As if his wife and daughter didn’t even exist, at least not as full people.

  Unclutching my fist, I pushed the up button and waited for the elevator to descend from the heady heights.

  I’d never gotten vertigo from an elevator, but the glass wall wasn’t helping. I stood facing the door, willing myself not to turn around.

  My first instinct upon crossing the Matthews’ three-floor penthouse threshold was to take off my shoes.

  “I’m in here, Sean,” Matilda called from somewhere inside the massive main floor.

  Leaving my shoes by the door, I went to find her. It would still be a while before I could call her Matilda in my head, let alone to her face. Just as long as she didn’t want me to call her ‘mom,’ things should be fine.

  Piles of wedding magazines stood like ancient obelisks on the coffee table.

  “Take a seat,” Matilda said, indicating a chair to her right.

  I sat down gingerly. Matilda Matthews possessed the sort of energy that made you want to obey her.

  “Now we have a lot to go through. I’ve broken everything up into categories. Tuxes, cakes, etc.”

  “Didn’t we already choose a cake?”

  “That was Darcy’s choice. I need to make sure you agree and split the difference.”

  “Two cakes?”

  “If needed, but it probably won’t be, you two really do seem to be of one mind about things. It is reassuring, to be honest. I was wondering if it might be a mistake. No, not a mistake, too quick. You haven’t known each other very long, have you?”

  “No,” I hedged. Things were moving at lightning speed, and I didn’t know how I would put a stop to it before it got any more out of hand.

  “Still, I would never admit this to Garrison, but I can see it.”

  “See what?”

  “Your connection. You love her, and I know she loves you. I can see it in her eyes, hear it in her voice. There is no way she could be happy with Harry. Not when she is supposed to be with you. Most will think it’s silly, but I believe in true love and soulmates.”

  “It’s not silly at all,” I assured.

  Even as I said it, I wondered how she could go along with Garrison’s marriage plans for Darcy. Granted, they hadn’t met me yet but shouldn’t Matilda have advocated more for Darcy’s rights, particularly as a believer in true love, which clearly wasn’t there with Harry?

  “I really should have spoken up from the beginning,” Matilda said, as though reading my mind. “He might have even listened. If not, I could have helped Darcy get away—oh, listen to me, getting all melodramatic. None of that matters now anyway. She’s found you. The man she was supposed to be with all along.”

  “Exactly,” I said. “Though I am a bit confused as to why Darcy would get engaged to Harry when she doesn’t even seem to like him.”

  “Oh, that was more in their father’s heads. I think Harry was up for it. What man his age wouldn’t be? It was the fathers who were the driving force. Just two silly old men too old-fashioned to make a simple business deal without there being a wedding to secure things.”

  “It does seem a bit, well, Elizabethan, Victorian at the most.”

  “I know, dear. I never should have let it get as far as it did. I actually know what it’s like. I grew up poor. I was working as a secretary before I met Garrison. He was Henry Higgins to my Eliza Doolittle. He wanted to keep Darcy in a dream world. One of his own making. I was actually happy when she set out on her own. Living in the real world is good for her.”

  I found myself liking Matilda more and more, finding myself wishing that she actually was going to be my mother-in-law. The theatre of my mind unspooled films of family reunions with both the Matthews and MacBride clans brought together. A chaotic sort of peace prevailing. I knew for a fact that Aunt Tricia would love Matilda. There were even kids in my mind’s eye. Though I couldn’t really tell whose they were but hoping at least one of them was mine and Darcy’s.

  I felt a twinge in the back of my neck. Something that always happened when trouble was near. It was how I managed to survive through the worst of the trouble in our area. I was never clear if it was a sort of sixth sense or just the reflex of experience.

  The smell gave it away. There was exactly one guy I’d smelled wearing Hugo Boss cologne in the past ten years, and it was fairly recently.

  “Mr. Matthews,” I said, not turning around.

  “That’s Mr. Matthews to you.”

  “That’s what he said,” Matilda pointed out.

  “Oh, um, right, if you will excuse us, Matilda, I would like to speak with this young man in my office.”

  Apparently, in legalese, ‘speak’ meant the same as ‘interrogate.’ It was almost cute how he tried to intimidate me.

  I excused myself and made my way into Garrison’s grandiose office. The place was decorated like something from the early 1900s. The dark and frumpy décor suited his personality perfectly.

  “I would like to know your intentions with my daughter,” Garrison said, leaning back in his chair, steepling his fingers like a Bond villain.

  “Marriage, children, general domestic bliss. The usual.”

  “I hear you’re from Ireland.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “What gave it away?”

  He ignored my sarcasm. “Will you be moving here, or would you expect her to move there with you?”

  “Oh, I could never take her away from her family. We would stay right here.”

  It just came out. Despite my aversion to dishonesty, I was surprisingly good at it. At least in the right context. I really didn’t feel bad about lying to Garrison. Apparently, my honesty policy only applied to people I didn’t already loathe. It gave me hope for my dad, really. For all I might have criticized his actions, I was always honest with him. Compared to Garrison, Brendan MacBride looked like a Norman Rockwell picture of perfection.

  “What would you do for work.”

  “The same thing I’m doing now. I’m very flexible,” I said, turning the charm up to 11.

  “Successful?”

  “I like to think so. Nowhere near your level of eminence, of course, but who is really? I really want to marry your daughter, Mr. Matthews. There is no plan here to foil you or cockblock Harry. Darcy and I are in love, and we are going to get married. Mrs. Matthews was just helping me pick out a wedding cake.”

  He opened a drawer in his desk and got out a checkbook. Even as he was writing, I knew what it was for.

  “What’s that?” I asked, just for show.

  “One million dollars.”

  “Wedding gift?”

  He snorted. “Hardly. Take it and go. Don’t come anywhere near my daughter again.”

  He tore out the check and slammed it on the desk between us. I looked at the check, absolutely seething. This was clearly not the reaction he was expecting. Garris
on, no doubt, figured that most people would have taken the check without a second thought. He was probably right about that. The problem was, I wasn’t most people.

  Taking the check in both hands, I looked at it as though seriously considering his generous offer.

  “Good, I’m glad we could come to an under—”

  I ripped the check in two and then, for good measure, into four and then six, placing the pile of very expensive confetti onto the same spot he had slammed the intact check. His jaw dropped, and his face turned an unhealthy shade of red.

  “See you around, Garrison.”

  I pushed back away from the desk and strolled out of his opulent office, my head held high, the honor of the MacBride’s intact.

  “Goodbye, Matilda, it has been lovely.”

  “Leaving so soon,” she asked, sounding both disappointed and surprised.

  “I really think it is for the best.”

  As though on cue, a sound like one from the bowels of Hell rose up from down the hall as the almighty Garrison Matthews, king of Los Angeles and God among mere mortals, realized what just happened. Someone finally had the balls to defy him.

  I should have thanked Garrison, really. Were it not for his interrogation and cheap conniving, I might never have realized how important Darcy was to me. I felt it, but I didn’t know quite how to say it. As it turned out, she was worth more than all the money in the world.

  It was going to be tough, but not insurmountable, like climbing Everest in the summer. I could get another week of vacation without Armageddon back home. If I were going to marry Darcy for real, I would have to convince her to move to Ireland with me. Time was short, but I was good with deadlines. And if there was one thing I liked, it was a challenge.

  Chapter Nineteen - Darcy

  I never really thought of being an assistant as scary. There were lots more, much scarier jobs that came immediately to mind. Every job should be done as safely as possible, but the greatest risk one should face while filing is a paper cut. I now hated going to work and hated that I hated it. It took ten minutes of meditation in my car before I could will myself to go into the building. It didn’t seem right, but I took Nicole’s advice and went back to wearing pants, bent from the knees when bending was required. Unfortunately, the never be alone with him part wasn’t really possible.