Lucky Irish Read online

  Lucky Irish

  M.K. Moore

  Flirty Filth Publishing

  Lucky Irish By M.K. Moore

  © M.K. Moore 2020 Flirty Filth Publishing.

  All Rights Reserved

  By the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without permission of the publisher is unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for brief quotations used in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  The use of actors, artists, movies, TV shows and song titles/lyrics throughout this book are done so for storytelling purposes and should in no way be seen as an advertisement. Trademark names are used editorially with no intention of infringement of the respective owner’s trademark.

  This book is intended for adults only. Contains sexual content and language that may offend some. The suggested reading audience is 18 years or older. I consider this book as Erotic Adult Romance.

  Cover created by KL Fast

  Created with Vellum

  St. Patrick’s Day is just as good of holiday to fall in love as any other, maybe better!

  Please enjoy this McShorty!!

  XOXO,

  MK

  Contents

  1. Seamus O’Brien

  2. Brenna Murphy

  3. Seamus

  4. Brenna

  5. Seamus

  Epilogue

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  Other books by MK Moore

  About the Author

  One

  Seamus O’Brien

  Fuck this shit, I think as I walk to the T’s Park Street Station. My union president just dropped a bomb on us and doesn’t seem to give a shit that our hazard pay has just been cut in half. As a lineman for Boston Energy, I risk my life every day to ensure the people in the greatest city in the commonwealth of Massachusetts have electricity no matter the weather conditions. Ice is our greatest adversary this winter and it’s not hot enough yet to deter that. I can’t deal with this bullshit right now. A St. Patrick’s Day beer is calling my name. It’s only nine and there’s about fifteen different Irish pubs between here and home, so it’s feasible to stop in. Hell, who am I kidding? It’s feasible most nights.

  As I wait on the platform, I catch a glimpse of a beautiful dark-haired lass on the train that just pulled to a stop in front of me. Something pierces my chest and for a second, I think I'm having a heart attack. She looks like a little fairy that I could put in my pocket. She’s looking down at her phone, trying to ignore the guy talking to her. Her long hair is windswept and her cheeks red. I can’t stop staring at her. Even though it’s not my train, I get on it anyway. I should be on the Red Line, but this is a Green Line E train and it’s going to be a long ride home to Mattapan. I sit down so that I can look at her some more. I realize that this makes me crazy, but I don’t give a flying fuck. I watch the man next to her still trying to chat her up, though she has turned her body slightly away from him. A classic sign of not being interested, but the guy isn't getting the fucking hint. I clench my fists on the tops of my thighs. For some fucking reason, I don’t like that he’s talking to her or even breathing the same air as her.

  “Not interested,” she finally says, and I hear her sultry voice through the loudness of the train and all the people on it. It goes straight to my balls. Fuck. I need to hear more of that more than I need oxygen. The other man is about to touch what I am beginning to think of as mine. Not fucking happening. Again, without thinking, I walk right up to her and wrap my arm around her shoulder, pulling her away from his touch. I don’t know why I do it, but I do.

  “Hey, baby. Did you miss me all day?” I ask, daring to kiss her soft cheek. I am fully prepared for her to slap me, but she surprises me instead.

  “Of course, I did,” she answers without hesitation causing me to grin.

  “The fuck?” the douche who had been harassing her says.

  “Imma need you to take a couple of steps back from my woman, asshole,” I say. She steps closer to me, causing me to smile. The man holds his hands up in surrender and backs away, eventually leaving the train car.

  “Oh my God, thank you,” the lass says.

  “You’re welcome. I’m Seamus,” I say holding my hand out to her.

  “Brenna,” she replies, shaking my hand.

  “Nice to meet you,” I tell her.

  “You too.”

  “So, does that happen to you often?” She’s so damn beautiful, I’d be surprised if it didn’t.

  “Yeah, unfortunately. Why are guys such dicks?” she asks, putting her phone into her jacket pocket.

  “I can’t speak for all of us, but it’s not every day we cross paths with the most beautiful lass in the world. We probably can’t help it.”

  “Really?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

  “I know that I can’t help it,” I tell her honestly.

  “I don’t think you are a dick,” she breathes and licks her full lips. Before I can stop myself, my lips are on hers, my hands on her hips, hers around my neck. I don’t even care that this train is full of people probably watching us. “What was that for?” she asks, touching her lips when I pull away.

  “Your mouth looked so damn inviting, Brenna,” I say using her name for the first time.

  “Did it?” she asks coyly, and I have no doubt that she knows exactly what she's doing.

  “Very much so,” I reply.

  “Oh,” she says.

  “How about we grab a drink? After all, it’s the least I can do as your fake boyfriend.”

  “More like a knight in shining armor, but unfortunately, I am not old enough to get a drink.,” she says looking down at the floor.

  “Oh, God. Please tell me you are legal,” I groan, though I am not sure her not being legal would deter me.

  “I’m nineteen, don’t worry. Why don’t you come back to my place? I don’t have drinks, but I might be able to rustle up some dessert.”

  The way she says “dessert” makes me think of sweet pussy juice dripping down my throat as I eat her cunt.

  “Dessert sounds amazing,” I tell her. At the next stop, she takes my hand and pulls me to the doors.

  “This is us,” she says leading the way. We get off at Longwood Medical Area and walk about two minutes to a fancy apartment building. We take the elevator up to the seventh floor and walk to her front door. She pulls her keys from her jacket pocket and unlocks the door. Inside the studio apartment, it’s tastefully decorated, but not much in the way of personal touches. My parents left me their house when they died, so it’s full of family heirlooms. My only expense is taxes and utilities which isn’t much.

  “You live here?”

  “Yep, this is my place,” she says. I notice she hasn’t said it was her home or house, leading me to believe she just sleeps here. “Can I get you anything?” She moves into the kitchen, setting her bag on the counter, followed by her jacket.

  “Sure. What did you have in mind?”

  “Um… me?”

  “You don’t sound too sure of that, Brenna.”

  “I’m sure, I wasn’t sure if you were.”

  “Lass, I kissed you seconds after meeting you. I came home with you. I promise you I am sure of whatever is happening here,” I tell her moving closer to her.

  “Yeah?”

  “Fuck yeah.” Pul
ling her closer to me, I kiss her again, my tongue sweeping into her mouth. Tasting coffee and mint, I deepen the kiss. “Tell me that you’re sure,” I say after pulling back from her.

  “I’m sure, Seamus. So sure,” she breathes putting her arms around my neck again. She’s so tiny, I pick her up easily and carry her to her bed. Her legs wrap around my waist as we walk. The layout of her studio apartment doesn’t require me to ask any questions.

  “Lass, you are about to mine,” I growl as I lay her gently on the bed. My actions are a direct contrast to how I am feeling right now. Like a caged animal poised to attack, once she’s mine, I’m never letting go.

  She pants as I take her shoes off, the stress of my day gone in an instant.

  Two

  Brenna Murphy

  This is so not like me. I know exactly why I brought this strange, gorgeous man back to my apartment though. He lit a fire inside of me that I didn’t know could burn. He’s so hot. His red beard is giving me heart palpitations. He wants me and I want him. For some reason, I am going to give him everything, including my virginity. I was waiting for marriage but one look at this big, strong, lumberjack looking man who saved me from the unwanted advances of another man and that went right out the window. I wish I had made my bed this morning and cleaned up the tsunami of clothes I left all over the floor when I was getting ready for work. Too late now, I think wryly.

  “What’s your maiden name?” he asks as he takes my boots off of me. Then he slowly pulls my socks off of me. Who would have thought that would be so hot?

  “What? I’m not married, Seamus,” I say confused. Why would he think that I’m married?

  “Not yet, lass,” he says looking down at me causing my face to heat.

  “Murphy,” I whisper. “What’s my last name gonna be?” I ask brazenly.

  “O’Brien,” he growls, reaching the button on my jeans. He can’t be saying that he’s going to marry me, can he? It’s irrational. I know absolutely nothing about him, but for some reason, it doesn’t matter. I have so many questions but not enough time to ask them, so I ask the one that’s most on my mind.

  “Do you have a girlfriend? Wife?”

  “Hell no, Brenna. You’ll be the only woman I ever fuck. You understand what I'm saying?”

  “Uh-huh,” I say shaking my head. He’s a virgin too? How the fuck is that possible? “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-eight,” he says pulling my jeans and panties down my legs slowly. Too slowly. I’m achy. I need him. “Any other questions?”

  “No, not at this time,” I moan as his fingers graze my belly sensuously. He pulls my shirt up and off, tossing it across the room. My bra soon follows. I am naked to his gaze and I think he likes what he sees if the lecherous look on his face is any indication. I love that look.

  “Good,” he says, spreading my thighs wide open. Before I can stop him, he buries his face in my pussy, breathing it in deeply. No one has ever done this to me before and I wouldn’t stop him now for anything. It’s hot and depraved. I can’t believe that it’s actually happening to me. I never thought this is how I'd be ending my day, but I love the turn it's taking.

  “You smell amazing, I bet you taste even better,” he says looking up my torso into my eyes. His beard and his breath tickle my thighs, causing me to shiver. Then his tongue touches my clit and I cry out his name. Sensation like I’ve never known courses through my body.

  “Calm down, lass. I’m just getting started.”

  He goes back to licking my pussy gently before really going at it. I can feel my orgasm rising, but he doesn’t stop until he’s rung every ounce of cream out of me. Then he stands up and wipes his mouth with his thumb and stands there, staring at me like that for a few hot seconds before he kicks his shoes off. I watch as he slowly unbuttons his plaid shirt and tosses it away. He flicks the button on his jeans and lets them fall. His black boxer briefs go next. When I see his massive cock, I gulp. There’s no way that’s going to fit inside of me, but I am beyond willing to try. He grips himself, slowly jerking it while staring down at me.

  “What are you waiting for?” I ask, running my fingers through my pussy, praying he hasn’t changed his mind. He grips my wrist and pulls my hand away, but not before sucking the juices off of his fingers.

  “This is my pussy now, Breanna,” he says through gritted teeth. Who’s else would it be? I ask internally.

  “Okay,” I whisper, reaching for him. He lowers himself and kisses me. I bury my hands into his thick hair.

  “You a virgin, lass?” he asks. I nod. “Use your words.”

  “Yes." The look that crosses his face is almost...feral. It makes me shiver in excitement and anticipation. I am so gonna love this man, there isn’t a doubt in my mind about that.

  “I’m taking you bare. The thought of your belly round with my kid has me almost coming now.” He wraps my legs around his waist.

  “Yes. Yes. I want that,” I cry as he slams into me in a single, hard, amazing thrust. It hurts, but I want him more, so I move my hips instinctively. We are so close his abs rest on my clit while he waits.

  “Wait, lass. I’m about to come and I don’t want this to be over before it begins,” he groans. “You’re so fucking tight.”

  Smiling, I let him take his time. I feel so full, so content. Then, he moves, and I swear I see stars. He thrusts in and out of me, giving me so much pleasure I might die.

  I start to come as soon as his fingers touch my clit, my legs squeezing his hips.

  “Brenna,” he groans as he comes inside of me.

  “Holy shit,” I moan as he lowers himself onto my chest. His still hard cock still inside of

  me.

  “I’m never letting you go, Brenna,” he says kissing my chest over and over.

  “Good,” I whisper. The room is bright from when I turned the light on, but I wish it was dark in here. I never want to leave my bed and if I’m honest I never want him to leave either.

  “What do you do?” he asks suddenly.

  “I’m a bank teller downtown,” I answer. “Boston Savings and Loan. You?”

  “I’m a lineman for Boston Energy,” he says. Logically, I know it’s a dangerous job, but it sounds so hot. I can imagine him up there saving the day, and it turns me on.

  “That’s cool,” I say instead of telling my actual thoughts on the matter.

  “Sleep lass,” he says, pulling out of me. I groan at the loss. I am so emotional right now, I want to cry, but I force myself not to. Instead, I watch him. Naked, he walks over to the light switch by the door and turns it off, leaving only a lamp on by the bed. He crawls back into bed and pulls me to him. I lay half on top of him as he pulls the comforter up over us before he reaches over and turns the light out, thrusting us into darkness. I sigh in contentment as he strokes my back in soothing circles until I start to drift off. I jerk awake. “What’s wrong?” he asks.

  “Will you be here in the morning?”

  “I’ll be with you every morning, Brenna.”

  Why does that seem too good to be true?

  Three

  Seamus

  I wake up in the middle of the night starving. The moon light is streaming through her window so I can see her perfectly. Brenna’s hair is wild spread out on the pillow behind her, the pillow she’s not using at all. She is wrapped tightly around me; I can’t stop staring at her. My stomach growls loudly, so I move away from her carefully, but I end up waking her anyway.

  “You leaving?” she asks, sleepily.

  “No, of course not, lass. Just hungry,” I say, leaning down to kiss her. Pulling my boxers on, I head over to the kitchen.

  “Oh, I don’t think I have much. Though I love to cook, it’s hard to cook for one,” she says getting out of bed. She grabs a short, red cotton robe from the chair by the bed and puts it on, covering her body from my gaze. She comes into the kitchen area and starts looking around. “Grilled cheese and tomato soup?” She holds up a package of Swiss cheese from the fridge
as if she’s Vanna White. Her hair is wild from sleep. She looks like a goddess coming down to Earth to fall in love.

  I’ve always been a firm believer in love but love at first sight isn’t anything you can really prepare for until it happens to you. Who would have thought that something as mundane as holding a package of Swiss cheese would be the moment that I realized it? Subconsciously, I knew she was the one when I saw her on the train, but I didn’t want to admit it.

  “Sounds good,” I tell her. She grabs butter and bread. I take them from her and start buttering the bread. She gets a can of soup from the cabinet as well as the milk.

  “Thank you,” she says tucking her long hair behind her ear.

  “No problem,” I tell her, continuing my task.

  “I feel like we should get to know each other, ya know, if last night wasn’t just talk.”

  “It wasn’t just talk, Brenna. I meant what I said.”

  “This is crazy though, right?”

  “Who cares?” I say shrugging.

  “My parents for one. Maybe my little sister,” she replies.

  “Oh, my parents died years ago, and I am an only child, so I am not used to looking to anyone for advice or approval,” I tell her. She reaches out and places her hand on mine.

  “I’m so sorry,” she says.

  “It’s not a big deal. I’m used to it. I was ten when they died. My grandparents moved into their house to raise me, now they are retired down in Florida. It all worked out in the end.”

  “That’s still really sad, Seamus.”

  “It is what it is, Brenna. Let’s talk about something else,” I say putting bread in the skillet she pulled out. It sizzles as it melts the butter.