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

by Jamie Knight

  When she was ready, I eased my cock in, getting to about halfway before stopping. I wanted to take it a bit easy on her, just to be sure. She’d gotten to be nearly insatiable since we’d found out she was pregnant, but it also made her even more sensitive.

  We found out she’d been pregnant since before the wedding, which explained some of her odder food cravings, though not how there could have been such a screw-up on the part of her birth control. Not that we were complaining, of course. We both wanted kids and were over the moon at the news.

  “You ready for me? All of me?”

  “Yes, please, fuck me.”

  At her word of consent, I grabbed her other hip and started to gently rock. Darcy moved with me, softly gasping as my cock worked inside her. The beautiful feeling filling me up like a warm glow.

  All too soon, it was over, the two of us climaxing in unison as we had so many times before. Yet it felt even more special and important now. Like it was further evidence of the link we’d both felt that first moment at Maggie and Gavin’s wedding.

  Jim and Amy seemed to be going down the same road. I could only hope it would be a bit easier than ours.

  I slid out of her, Darcy moaning from the friction, and set her down on her side where I spooned her, my hand lovingly cupping her pussy, until we’d both recovered enough for another go.

  I raised my eyes heavenward and silently thanked the fates for bringing us together. I believed things happened for a reason and that there was a soulmate for everyone. I was lucky enough to have found mine, and I hoped each of my unmarried brothers would find theirs too. Without love and someone to share that love with, life had little meaning.

  “Love you,” Darcy said.

  “Love you more,” I murmured back.

  THE END

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  Sneak Peek of Under my Boss’s Authority

  My roommate was unusually quiet that day, which was odd. It was Wednesday, and Charlie and I had just shared the largest jug of homemade cocktails she had ever made.

  She and I had had a long-standing agreement for what happened after the weekly visit to the gym. We would sit ourselves up, sore and consistently exhausted, grab some margarita mix, a blender, a pinch of chili, her bag of special ingredients that no one was ever allowed to discover the secret behind, and a box of crushed ice.

  The cold floors would excite our bare toes as we would gossip and whisper, in hushed tones, about the strangest things to have happened to both of us during the preceding week.

  That day the topic had been boys.

  ‘Did you call him?’

  ‘No,’ I shrugged. The glass in my hands was numbing my fingers, so I set it down on the floor beside my knee. ‘He should call me first.’

  ‘Here we go, on and on again with your ego and pride.’

  She sat flat on her bottom and crossed her ankles over each other and dunked a chunk of chocolate cookie into her tumbler. She sucked on a piece of it and went on.

  ‘Some day you will be that lady down the corner with a load of gerbils for pets.’

  I pinched my nose up and smirked.

  ‘No way. They would know me as that lady with the doves.’

  ‘That doesn’t change the fact that you didn’t call the third man asking you out on a date and giving you his number in a month.’

  ‘If they wanted to badly enough, they would call me.’

  ‘I bet you told them about your scar.’

  ‘I did not!’ It felt necessary to get defensive. ‘Who gets that intimate on the first date?’

  Charlie rolled her eyes and pushed her bra’s left cup to the side.

  ‘You do. You are such a sucker for the romantic. Maybe that’s why they don’t call back. You scare them off.’

  I threw down a block of ice and bit it. It cracked at the top, then slowly, as I licked around it with my tongue, it melted sweetly down my throat.

  ‘I’m gonna be in my room. You should take your time to reflect upon the strength of your bra cups.’

  ‘Or I could just get my wand out and get freaky right here.’

  ‘Gross,’ I laughed, as I went to my room. ‘Do that on your own time. In your room. Or at Cedric’s.’

  I could hear her scoff from my bedroom door.

  ‘If he ever did see me doing that, I would have so much explaining to do.’

  ‘Then just don’t,’ I shouted over the blast of music from my speakers. I turned the dial down and leaned against the door. ‘Seriously, don’t. You can thank me later.’

  I shut myself in and fell into the brown bean bag in the corner of my room. My mind was in a state of disarray, and I was worried.

  It had been three months with no response from all the resumes I had sent out. Three months with no work. Making money as a temp was ideal when I landed headfirst in the middle of New York. The flair and flamboyance of the city lights and the simmering street food made a maudlin life feel exceptional.

  It took me some time, but I got there. The lights faded and reality set in. Making less than minimum wage while stuck in a basement office was not good for me. I had saved up.

  The well was still drying up, though. I chose dog walking as a thin, emaciated weekend cash cow. It kept some of the lights on, at least.

  My phone blinked. I picked it up and scrolled once.

  It was an email. I went through it and ran fast, on my knees first, then up on my feet. I burst through my door and ran to my red-faced and sweaty-cheeked roommate.

  ‘Charlotte, I got the job!’

  ‘Congratulations,’ she said, deflated.

  I saw the object behind her back and winced. The blanket was covering her lap.

  ‘Oh, gosh, I am so sorry.’

  ‘No, it’s fine.’

  ‘If I knew, then I would have...’

  ‘It’s okay, Julia. Please. Just… I’ll be out in a minute, okay?’

  ‘Okay.’

  I leaned against the wall and laughed heavily. I felt my ribs. I heard my bones crack. I was happy.

  The job of a lifetime had just come to me, right when I needed it. Julia Cast was going to be the next best thing!

  I briskly walked away after the sound of overworking batteries behind her door hit my ears.

  ***

  It was April, I can best think, when I walked through those doors for the seventh time. Charlie had dressed me up, well, overdressed was more like it, for my fifth day on the job. The pink and white-hemmed skirt hugged my toned thighs.

  There was a soft touch to the cotton blouse I wore; it had just the right amount of cut under my collarbone to be decent and subtly sexy.

  My hair was looped in a tight bun behind my head, and smelled of fresh lemongrass hairspray. She had made sure nothing would stop me from getting my fist through the glass ceiling, and the set of thin white pearls dangling below my neck were sure proof of that.

  ‘Don’t you dare come back if you get mugged,’ she had said while clicking the clasp behind my neck. ‘My mother did not sail all the way to the Americas with this as her only possession for her daughter’s friend to lose them.’

  ‘Jeez. She wasn’t on the Mayflower, Charlie.’

  ‘I know. But it felt that way.’

  That was three years ago. The pearls were still safe, and my roommate had gotten herself in a polyandrous marriage off the coast of Haiti. I missed her.

  I walked straight through to my work desk, the clip clop of the light heels on my feet making my arrival as noisy as they could. There was an air of brevity that day. Ha
nds flew and tongues wagged.

  Men in black suits walked with assumed haste towards the cafeteria and ordered triple espressos. The coffee machines hissed dominantly beside the knives cutting through heavy and raw veggies for salads. I watched from afar, while waiting along the escalator with at least ten others, marveling at how everyone felt the need to rush. It was acquisition day.

  I placed my bag neatly by the front legs of my standalone chair and got the computer working. It was early. I did not expect to smell his cologne so soon.

  Henry Palmer was the kind of man who walked into a room and stole everyone’s attention. He stood a head taller than everyone else, and his body frame was daunting. He was firm, and even through his suit you could see it.

  He walked with a haughty, determined demeanor that shook me to my very core the day he interviewed me. The man smelled of a foreign vineyard, and his eyes, his heavy and deep brown eyes, saw through every lie and every soul.

  He was a man sculpted to perfection, better than Michelangelo ever envisioned. And the man, the god among men, was standing over me, flipping through a binder with his thick and perfectly manicured finger. My pussy clenched when I saw him, just like it always did.

  ‘Are you ready for this?’ he asked.

  I loved how he always sounded demanding, even when he was asking a question.

  ‘I am, sir.’

  ‘Good. Meet me in the conference room in twenty. Have the Boris file ready and printed.’

  ‘Already done, sir.’

  I handed him the yellow folder, which was clearly thicker than what he expected. I saw him smile as he read page after page. He was impressed.

  A man shouted downstairs before Henry spoke to me. There was some kind of commotion going on. A woman, Alice from HR I think, yelled out something that was obviously meant to warn about danger, considering the tone she used.

  Henry left my station and leaned his muscled weight across the balcony. His face was one of concern. I felt my phone buzz twice. Then three times.

  I leaned down and looked at it. The screen lit up with messages from Charlie and my mom that didn’t make more sense at all. They were saying something about a virus, about a pandemic- as if we were living in a sci fi movie.

  Henry came to me, his face calm, and his hands on my arms. They were warm tendrils of skin and bone, and my heart skipped when he spoke and looked directly into my eyes.

  ‘Get everyone off my phone in the next two minutes. Cancel every reservation. When that is done, call a cab and get yourself home. I will call you.’

  He ran through his office door and shut it before I even had time to stammer out a ‘yes, sir’ in response.

  The doors downstairs filled with colleagues rushing out. Through nothing more but basic instinct, I did as I was told and packed my bag.

  My heart was in a murky pool of dread, not knowing what would happen next. My phone was buzzing. I ignored the messages and dialed a cab. There was no response. Offices were emptying out. There was panic.

  I heard a woman say she was heading to a grocery section to max out her credit card. Another man, Mark from accounting, rushed off a bunch of conspiracy theories, saying it was some way for the New World Order to come about.

  And then Bart, the head security guard outside Palmer’s Sporting Goods who had been working there for five years before I ever started, was smiling as he listened to his country music stereo on repeat while snapping his fingers. He took his earpiece off and beckoned me to him when he saw me, though. I ran over.

  ‘You need to go straight home, Jules.’

  ‘What’s happening?’

  He held my arm and rubbed it in a fatherly fashion.

  ‘The world has finally lost its mind, and we are about to pay for it. Go home.’

  ‘But the cabs...’

  He nodded and radioed someone. His mustache twitched and flickered with every word. He set the orange device down and looked me right in the eye.

  ‘The truck is coming up. Bernie and the gang will drop you off as close to your place as you need them to.’

  My chest swelled with gratitude that he was allowing the building security guards to escort me home. I hugged the man. He had been a moral compass for so long that I thought of him as something close to my dad.

  ‘Stay safe, Julia. My prayers are with you.’

  I didn’t answer back, simply because I never prayed. A nod did just fine. The truck picked me up and we went on our way. The streets were as they were always meant to be in New York City, I supposed. Chaos reigned and sanity was lost.

  The guards dropped me off three blocks away from where I lived, because traffic prevented them from getting any closer. I thanked them once again and they nodded at me casually in response, as if it was part of their job duties.

  The inside of my house smelled the same: lemongrass tea and macadamia nut cookies. There was no one to hug me, no one to say hello to. I was alone in the middle of rising chaos all around me.

  Apparently, I had learned while skimming the news on my phone in the car, a global pandemic called the Coronavirus, or COVID-19, had made its way to our country and everything was being shut down so that people could stay safe. We had to isolate, or we could catch and spread this very contagious virus.

  I thrust myself inside my beanie bag and let out a long, exasperated sigh, wondering when or if the world would ever be normal again.

  And when or if I would ever see Henry again.

  I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I had lost my opportunity to be than just an employee to him. I had fantasized about being with him but had never gotten up the nerve to try.

  Well, except for a couple times, and I was pretty bold about it. But I didn’t go nearly as far as I wanted with him.

  And now I might never be able to.

  Continue reading Under my Boss’s Authority

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  Jamie Knight –

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