Chapter 16
I’m trying to keep my cool here, but there’s a slow burn in the middle of my chest that feels very much like a wild new obsession is currently taking hold inside my heart. Gripping it like a fist.
Everything about her is charming me. Every sweep of her long eyelashes, every exasperated huff of laughter, every sweet glance.
I didn’t expect it to be so fucking sudden .
So ragingly all-consuming.
So goddamn sure of itself.
It’s insane that I’m sitting here wondering if I’ve just met the love of my life. Not even wondering. Knowing.
No one can know such a thing after a grand total of two hours.
But I do. She’s the one.
After a lifetime of wondering and hoping, searching but never finding, this feels like a lightning-bolt-shaped Cupid’s arrow has pierced me directly in my hot-beating heart.
Which sounds cheesy as fuck.
My problem is…I like cheese. I’ve fucking craved true romance for as long as I can remember. Life has always disappointed me in that regard. Like it’s been preparing me for this exact moment, so I know . So there’s no fucking mistake about it.
You’re too picky , my brothers used to tell me.
Who are you waiting for?
The perfect woman doesn’t exist.
Circumstance has proven all three of my brothers wrong. And it’s happening to me right now in real time.
I’m fucking falling in love.
With a total stranger.
A total stranger who happens to be as perfect as anyone I’ve ever come across.
Like fate has thrown all the minutiae of a human being I never thought to wish for—that are specific to me and only me—into some bubbling cauldron, stirred them up, added several pinches of addictive, habanero-level spice and poured the whole cocktail into one living, breathing… Lucky Irish.
There’s nothing to find fault with.
Nothing.
I’ve heard of algorithms doing their job but this is ridiculous.
Her skin is creamy-smooth, lightly tanned and glowing. I’ve counted the freckles dotted across the bridge of her nose. There are eleven of them. Which happens to be my lucky number.
Her eyes seem to change color depending on her mood. They get darker when I tease her. In certain plays of the light, they almost look violet.
Her hair is outrageous. Shiny and silky but thick.
A golden, luminous color you might expect to see on a mythical creature.
As though her Uber happened to be a white Pegasus that flew in from Mount Olympus or some magical place with rainbows and pots of gold.
County Cork on steroids, maybe. I don’t fucking know.
Her mouth. It’s so damn luscious-looking I’m seriously in agony.
It’s not only the physical draw but an emotional one that’s equally intense. She’s kind, that’s easy to read. And smart. With a sparked, sweet but also feisty sense of humor that somehow meshes perfectly with my own.
She’s a little bit lost. And it’s that part of the equation that digs into me almost more than any other. I want to protect her and shield her from life’s harsher edges with a ferocity I hardly recognize.
“Can I ask you a question?” I really am dying to know.
“Depends on what it is,” she replies coyly.
“You don’t have any other kind of relationship going on anywhere, do you?”
“Relationship?”
“Boyfriend. Broken-hearted ex. Secret husband. I don’t know. I’m just trying to figure out why every man in New York isn’t banging down your door.”
“Of course not.” All innocently. “I wouldn’t have gone on a date with you if there was. There’s no one.”
“Why not?” I can’t wrap my head around it.
“I don’t know. I’ve been busy.”
“Doing what?”
“Working. There were a lot of…expectations.”
“From who?”
“My father.”
I know the feeling. “I can definitely relate to that.”
“Are you the oldest of your brothers?”
“Second oldest.”
“So you didn’t get the worst of it.”
My smile is rueful. “No. I got the second worst of it. Although the third brother claims he got the worst, only because he and my father were similar people and they clashed because of it. And the fourth brother claims he got the worst of it because he was basically an afterthought.”
She’s quiet for a few seconds, waiting for me to give her more.
But that would be against the rules. “Are you and your father similar people, Lucky Irish?”
“I tried to be what he wanted. But I’ve always been more like my mother.”
“The O’Callahan from County Cork.”
Lucky smiles, but there’s a sadness at the edges of it I really can’t handle. “Exactly.”
“I was the brother who was most like our mother. And the Sullivans from Dublin.”
This earns me a real smile. “That must be why the algorithms matched us.”
“Must be.”
I can’t wait any longer. I would generally consider myself a nice, level-headed and mostly considerate guy, but there’s nothing nice about my craving. It’s feral and voracious. My need to taste her feels madness-edged.
Slowly, I slide my hand under her hair, around the nape of her neck. She lightly gasps as I very gently squeeze and the sound makes my cock fully hard.
It’s intense finding the girl of your dreams.
I want her happy and giggling and so blissed out she’ll never want to leave me.
I want to protect her, ravage her and fucking please her so ferociously I feel like I’ve morphed into a love-struck caveman who’s only mission in life is to deliver mind-blowing orgasms and romantic happily ever afters.
Staring into her starry eyes, I’ve found what I’ve been looking for. It’s as simple as that.
“I’m going to kiss you now, Lucky Irish. Are you ready for me?”
“No,” she whispers. But her lips part in anticipation. “I need to warn you about something.”
“What?”
Her teeth gently bite into her plump bottom lip.
Fuck . “Tell me.”
“I’ve never really done…anything like this. Like I said, I’ve been too busy.”
“Too busy to kiss?”
She nods. “Too busy to do anything at all.”
“Anything at all?” Like, anything ?
“Anything,” she confirms.
She’s a fucking virgin?
Holy hell, I am so done for.
I lean in, brushing my lips against hers before I settle in more deeply. Her breathy coo as I dip my tongue into her mouth and get my first taste is enough: I’m fucking hooked.
She tastes like champagne and paradise.
She tastes like my wildest dreams—and I never had wildest dreams before right now. I never dared to. Because everything and everyone was just so disappointing.
Until Lucky Irish showed up.
And now her wildest dreams are my wildest dreams. This girl, happy and round and pink-cheeked, full of my cum and knocked up with my babies.
Fucking hell, Maddox.
A few days ago I was helping old ladies cross the street.
Now all I want to do is to breed this little virgin by giving her so much pleasure she’ll have no choice but to fall madly in love with me.
I fully realize I might have lost my mind.
No one falls in love this fast. It’s impossible.
I’m sure I’m just worked up because I’ve gone too long without.
My subconscious is hell-bent on getting what I promised it when I made my decision earlier this week, and is now tricking me into feeling so much because my cock is so fucking hard and needs what it needs.
This is lust, that’s all. Really, really extreme lust that’s the result of living like a monk for too long.
But how is she so fucking ideal ?
I’m probably just seeing what I want to see because I’ve already made up my mind that this is happening tonight.
If she agrees to it.
I know she will.
I lean in to whisper in her ear. “Irish?”
“Yeah?”
“I want this to happen. I’m telling you the honest truth when I say you are without a doubt the most beautiful girl I have ever seen in my life.
I want to take you upstairs and we can have a drink and some dessert and get to know each other.
We’ll take it as slow as you want. You can change your mind at any time.
Just say the word and I’ll take you home.
But I don’t think you will change your mind.
I think you’re going to love what I’m about to give you.
And I want nothing more right now than to give you every fucking thing you’ve ever wished for.
I want to spend the weekend with you. I’ll take good care of you. ”
Her blue eyes round. “You will?”
“Of course I will. I’m Noah, remember? Trustworthy. Patient but not too patient. Incredibly thorough. Maybe a little bit of a control freak but that can be a good thing in certain situations.”
Her cheeks get that warm pink flare as her eyes hold mine. “It can?”
“Yes. It can.”
She’s saucy without even trying. Curious. She’s navigating all the new feelings I’m inspiring. “What kind of situations?”
“The kind where I give you a lot of orgasms.”
It’s barely a whisper. “Oh.”
Slowly, I lean in close to her ear, whispering in a low growl. “Are you wet for me?”
You’re rushing this.
I can’t not rush this. I’m too fucking hot for her.
Just when I think maybe I’ve pushed her too fast, my Irish dream girl shyly nods.
“Yeah?”
She barely nods again, almost submissively.
I lean closer to her ear as I place my palm on her bare thigh. I very lightly lick her earlobe and gently bite, which makes her squirm against me. “Do you want me to feel how wet you are for me?”
She exhales a soft breath, something between a laugh, wild curiosity and disbelief.
“You can say yes, Noah . Or you can say no. My advice—and I’m a Noah, so you should definitely take it: always say yes.”
Lucky’s eyes are dazzlingly blue as she meets my gaze, and my challenge. “Okay, then, Noah ,” she whispers. “ Yes .”
“Good girl.” My whispered growl in her ear is low and husky.
My palm slides higher and she whimpers, the sound driving me very close to the edge of control.
Fuck, this girl makes me crazy. I’m supposed to be a gentleman.
At least wait until you get upstairs, you maniac .
Instead, I hear myself murmur gruffly, “I think you want me to slide my fingers under those wet panties and play with your slippery little clit until you come hard right here at the table. What do you think?”
She softly inhales, like she can’t believe I just said that.
“Give me a yes, Irish. We’re slowly working up to your wildest dreams here, remember? No one can see us, but you’re going to need to keep it down. No screaming. Do you think you can do that?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never…”
“Never what?”
“You know.”
“What?”
“Just forget it.” Those light flags of pink on her cheeks get even pinker.
“Wait a minute. You mean…you’ve never had an orgasm ?”
“No.”
I’m shocked. How is such a thing possible in this day and age? “Why not?”
“I just…couldn’t. I mean, I’ve tried, but I just…haven’t. I can’t.” She pretends to shield her eyes. “God, kill me now. I can’t believe I just told you that.”
I carefully tuck a curl behind her ear. “Hey, it’s me.
You can tell me anything. It’s good this way, you’ll see.
They wouldn’t have been as good as the ones I’m about to give you anyway.
” I sound cocky, but it’s true. I happen to have a gift.
Thank you, universe, for delivering me this little lucky charm, who just keeps astounding me with her checklist of things I didn’t even know were ideal to me until she started showing me, one by one. “Challenge accepted, Lucky Irish.”
I gently nudge her shoulder with mine in that playful way we have. She huffs a laugh. Like she doesn’t believe me.
My girl. Mine. “You’re going to like this, Irish. Are you ready?”