His Irish Coffee

by Jessica Lake

  The interior of the car is too small, though. There's not enough room to maneuver my cock into her.

  "Fuck!" I bellow, sitting back down, pulling her onto me. Nothing matters in the whole world at this moment except getting inside Lila.

  But before I can pull her all the way onto my lap she pulls away, smiling and biting her lower lip.

  I know what she's going to do. The look in her eyes gives her away somehow, the glint of naughtiness as she bends her head down...

  13

  Lila

  Another first. And in the seconds before I push my lips down over the swollen tip of Declan's cock, in the moments before his deep moans fill my ears, I feel none of the things I thought I would feel. I don't feel grossed out, I don't feel afraid of doing it wrong, I don't feel self-conscious. I only feel one thing, and that is that I want him in my mouth.

  He's so hard the head of his dick is completely smooth. The pre-cum is salty on my tongue and it gives me a thrill deep down in my core to know that I'm the one who caused that, I'm the one who did that to him.

  I'm surprised by how little of him will actually fit into my mouth. I open my lips a little further and put some effort into pushing myself lower. Declan groans and more pre-cum floods my mouth.

  "Lila," he breathes, brushing my hair out of the way and lowering the back of the seat so he can watch. "Baby, you're doing such a good job. Oh, fuck, you're so –"

  His words catch in his throat as I push my tongue down his shaft, taking in another inch. I'm not gagging yet but it feels like I might, if I go any further. But I want to go further. I want to please him.

  Slowly, I start to bob my head up and down, not sure at first if that's what I'm supposed to do. The Irishman's reaction – straining his hips up off the driver's seat and leaning his head back on the headrest – confirms that it is. He runs one of his big hands down the back of my neck and over my naked back as I lower my lips down his wet length one more time, squeezing my eyes shut with the effort it takes not to gag.

  "Lila," he says again, and I can hear that his breath is ragged now – he's close. "Lila, oh, baby, oh my –"

  I open mouth one more time. I push down one more time, not stopping until my eyes are watering, and then he gives me what I want. His breath stops and less than a second later I feel his cock stiffen and twitch against my tongue, followed by the first warm gush of cum. I swallow, but there's so much, and it's coming so fast that I don't manage to swallow all of it. Declan looks down, watching as he throbs in my mouth, as his cum spills out and runs down my chin.

  I don't take my mouth off him until his hips have finished thrusting up – and when I do he suddenly tells me to wait.

  So I wait, and he reaches down, wrapping his hand around his shaft, drawing it all the way up. Without having to ask, I instinctively seem to know what he's doing. I open my mouth, push my tongue underneath his head and lick off the last few drops as his whole body shudders with pleasure.

  And then we both take about 5 minutes to sit back in our respective seats, panting, recovering, catching each other's eyes every few seconds and smiling.

  "I didn't think I was going to like that so much," I tell him truthfully, when I can speak in full sentences again.

  "Didn't you?" He replies. "I mean, I get it, having a dick in my mouth sounds fucking disgusting."

  I laugh. "Yeah. Part of me thought the same. And when I think about it – I don't know – when I think about someone else's cock in my mouth, it still makes me feel sick. But yours? I, uh – I liked yours. I more than liked it."

  Declan sighs. "You're an angel, aren't you? An actual angel, sent down from heaven to torment me?"

  "Torment you?" I giggle. "I hardly tormented you just now, did I? Well, maybe at first – but I finished the job."

  "That you did, Lila. But you live in Las Vegas. You live in America. And in a few days, I fly back to Ireland, totally ruined."

  "Ruined?"

  "Yes, ruined. You think I'm ever going to be able to have sex with a mortal woman ever again? Now that I've had you?"

  I laugh and reach for my panties, which prove to be too wet to put back on. "A mortal woman? I'm definitely one of those, Declan. Believe me, I'm –" I stop talking suddenly, realizing my tone has become serious – I'm thinking about my mother again. "Sorry," I mumble. "Sorry. I just wanted to say that I'm definitely a mortal woman, too. I don't know why anyone would ever think otherwise."

  But he's already sensed the change in mood. Quietly, we get dressed. It's when I'm pulling my tank top back on that Declan eyes the logo on the front and asks me, apropos of seemingly nothing, how much I make.

  "What?" I ask, wondering if it's culturally acceptable to just ask someone how much they earn in Ireland."Why are you –"

  "Sorry," he cuts in, shaking his head. "Sorry, Lila. I just – I –"

  What is this man talking about? I give him a look like he might be crazy.

  "I want to help you," he says finally.

  "You want to help me?" I ask, bemused. Does he mean he wants to help me with my job? "What, like you want to tell my boss not to fire me? I don't know if he'll be interested in –"

  "No! I mean I want to help you with your mother, Lila! And I don't want to leave you here. I want you to come back to Ireland with me. I mean, not forever. Not unless you want, of course. Just for a visit. I want to show you my horses."

  "Your..." I start, not sure I'm actually hearing him correctly, and latching onto the last thing that came out of his mouth. "Your horses? You have horses? Are you some kind of Irish cowboy?"

  "Come here," he says, laughing and reaching out, pulling me across the center console onto his lap and burying his face in my neck. "I'm sorry to just burst out with it like that. And I don't want you to think I'm saying any of this because you just gave me the most mind-blowing blowjob of my entire life. I – I don't know. I like you. I'm feeling things – thing I probably shouldn't be feeling – but I am. Yes, I have horses. My family owns one of the most well known breeding stables in Ireland. I suppose I am a kind of Irish cowboy – as long as you don't expect me to wear a ten-gallon hat and call you 'pardner.' I can help you, Lila. I can help you pay your mum's medical bills, if that's what you need. I already have way too much money. It won't even –"

  That time, what he's saying sinks in. And before he's even finished, I'm crying again. I'm also not sure I've heard him properly.

  "What did you say?" I ask, looking up into his ice-blue eyes, where I can see no signs of deception.

  "I said I can help you with your mother's medical bills," Declan repeats. "And that I want you to come back to Ireland with me so I can show you my hometown – and the horses."

  Is he being serious? He certainly looks like he is. He sounds like he is. But surely I'm hallucinating the entire scene? Maybe I passed out during the blowjob, and am about to wake-up? Since when am I the kind of person who meets kind, rich, devastatingly sexy strangers who seem to genuinely want to help? Since never. Sure, a lot of rich men have shown interest at work – and other places. But they just want to fuck me and it couldn't be more obvious. Declan already has fucked me. And he still wants to help.

  "Do you, uh," I start, suddenly awkward. "Do you mean it?"

  He takes my face in his hands and looks me in the eyes. "Yes, I mean it. I will pay your mother's bills. I will pay for any treatment she needs. And you, my beautiful thing – I want you to come back to Ireland with me. Will you? Do you even have a passport."

  "No," I sniffle.

  "Well then I'll stay until you get it. We'll get you out of that dingy little apartment, put you up in the fancy hotel where I'm staying, and we'll get you a passport."

  "But –" I try to speak, try to question him, because I'm still not convinced that any of this is real.

  "But nothing. Let's do it right now – you said it was your day off, right? Let's go back to your apartment and phone the hospital right now."

  So that's what we do. The Lambo roars back to life
and Declan turns it around, heading back to the road that leads back into Vegas. And I sit beside him, bubbling with a happiness I still can't quite allow myself to truly believe in.

  Epilogue

  Declan

  6 Weeks Later, Ireland

  I stand back, beaming, as Lila runs her hand down the flank of my favorite mare, Seabreeze.

  "She's birthed two Kentucky Derby winners," I tell her, "and she's only 8 years old."

  "Has she?"

  We've been in Ireland for just over 3 weeks now and the American girl with the coffee-colored eyes is even sweeter and more beautiful than I thought when we first met. Her mother's medical bills – past, present and future – are fully paid, and her prognosis has improved significantly. Unbeknownst to Lila, I've also put a little chunk of change - $250,000, to be exact – away in a bank account in her name, should the relationship not work out, and should she need some money to get back on her feet.

  Not that I'm worried about my own feelings changing. No, Lila is the best woman I've ever met. Smart, funny, kind, dedicated to her family – and so sexy it makes my heart pound to see her walk into a room. We're falling in love is what we're doing, here in the green hills of County Wicklow, and if everything goes well her mother will soon join us, to recover in one of the cottages on my family land, cared for by private nurses.

  Everything is different now, my life is cleaving into two distinct periods – Before Lila, and After Lila. Before Lila, I wasn't a terrible person. I was a decent enough son, a good enough brother. I was pretty aimless, though, with no real goals beyond a vague knowledge that I would one day inherit the farm from my parents. After Lila, things have come into focus. The things I care deeply about, and the things I can let fall by the wayside.

  And what I mostly care about is her. I watch her with the horses, as she walks from stall to stall, talking to them in a soft voice, giggling when they nuzzle her – as it they're sharing secrets they can't possibly share with me. She looks like she belongs here. Her dark hair tumbles down her back, shining in the sun as it peeps out from between the clouds, and a wave of heat, of lust and of fresh, growing love, washes over my heart.

  She turns to me, smiling, and catches me staring at her.

  "What are you looking at, Declan?"

  "You, " I tell her. "You."

  Get Drunk On Love!

  The Cocktail Girls is a shared world between 14 of your favorite romance authors. Each novella is a standalone story set in the city of sin.

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  Irish Coffee Recipe

  IRISH COFFEE

  TALL, SMOOTH, DARK & SEXY. BEST PAIRED WITH A HANDSOME IRISHMAN. WARNING: MAY CAUSE MAKE-OUT SESSIONS WITH SAID HANDSOME IRISHMAN!

  6 oz. strong, freshly brewed coffee

  1 teaspoon white (granulated) sugar

  1 teaspoon brown sugar

  1.5 oz. Irish whiskey

  lightly whipped cream

  Fill your mug 3/4 full of hot coffee, and stir in both sugars until dissolved. Add the whiskey and stir well. Gently pour the whipped cream over the top. When drinking, drink the coffee through the cream rather than drinking the cream first.

  Also by Jessica Lake

  Cade: Fire and Ice (A Second Chance Hockey Romance)

  Warrior (A Bad Boy Navy SEAL Romance)

  (both are full length novels)

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