by Frankie Love
“Feck,” I groan, knowing I’m close. She press a hand to my ass, taking me down her throat, as best she can. I don’t want her to gag, to be in pain, but she keeps sucking my swelling cock until I’m about to explode.
“I’m gonna come,” I tell her, thinking she’ll pull back. Instead it seems to invigorate her and she starts sucking me off all the harder.
When I come, my fingers drag through her hair, she’s moaning in pleasure as she swallows my hot come. Her hands on my tight balls, the release still working its way through my body.
She pulls back, licks her lips. Her eyes heavy with lust and I take her hand, helping her stand. The cool cement floor couldn’t have been comfortable.
“Come to my room,” I tell her, and she follows. We grab our clothes, her bag, and I take her hand, pulling her through the back door of the kitchen. She giggles as we tiptoe up a back staircase, my cock hanging between my legs, I use my jeans to try to cover myself but there’s no need. These are my private quarters at Granny’s castle.
I push open the door to my rooms, watching her take in the decadent antique furnishings. “What do you think?”
“This is gorgeous,” she says. “But know if you say yes you’ll think it’s because I’ve realized you’re an heir to a fortune.”
I shake my head, pulling her to the four-poster bed. Together, we crawl into bed, crumbling the satin sheets as I toss back the blankets. “Never, I know you’re not after my money.”
“What is it you think I’m after?”
I grin, cupping my cock and balls. “The baby spice, lassie.”
She giggles, tossing a pillow at me, and we laugh, I grab her waist, sending a delicate wash of laughter across the dark room. I tickle her, making her squirm, until she is on her back. Breathless. Waiting for more. I’ll give her plenty.
I pull her knees apart, taking in her tits, so full. Her pink pussy is bare and ready to be pounded. Her eyes filled with heat. So fucking hot.
“I want you, baby or no baby. Understood?”
She nods, sighing. “I want you too.”
I lean down, kissing her gently. Her mouth so sweet, her lips so soft. “Is that a yes?”
“To forever?”
I nod.
She smiles up at me. “Then it’s a yes.”
“You’ll marry me? A boy from the country that isn’t your home?”
“You can be my home, Beckett O’Connor.”
My cock enters her, our words promises that seem too good to be true but as we begin to make love, I realize this is real. Really happening. The fates collided, brought us here.
“You’re so fecking tight,” I tell her. She moans deliciously as we move in a rhythm that is our song. Our dance. Our vow.
Her body hums to life as I move deeper, her body small against mine, her curves so welcome, so warm. I lick her nipples, sucking them softly. Her knees drop, granting me more access. I’ll take everything she gives.
“Oh, Beckett, oh, yes,” she whimpers. Our bodies are one as we move together. Her pussy is slick and my cock fills her so nice and deep. She wraps her legs around me as she orgasms, her pretty little clit screaming out in pleasure. My cock is prepared to fill her cunt up with the baby spice she craves.
When we finish, we’re panting, fingers laced, eyes locked. “What name would the spice girls have given you?” I ask her.
She laughs. “Crazy spice. I mean, I just agreed to marry a stranger.”
“I like crazy,” I tell her, brushing back the hair on her forehead, looking deeply into her eyes. “In fact, I love crazy.”
Chapter Five
Love Thing
Bridget
Four weeks later Beckett and I are in a small cafe in Prague. We’ve been traveling the last few weeks — my travel food blog won’t write itself, and Beckett is taking cooking classes in each city we visit. We’re planning on spending next year in South America, though that might change a bit. Instead of traveling, we might be renting a place and making a home base.
I’ve ordered us quiche and lattes. I take them from the counter, my Claddagh engagement ring glittering. The woman who made us our coffees compliments it.
“I’ve never seen a ring that was so beautiful,” she gushes, leaning to get a closer look.
I smile, it’s a gold band with a massive emerald in the center. A family heirloom, now on my finger forever. “Thanks, we just got engaged a month ago.”
“When is the wedding?”
“This summer. In Ireland.”
The barista swoons. “So romantic.”
“I agree,” I say with a small laugh. When I reach our table, Beckett is on the phone.
“Yes, Granny, we know you can hire a caterer. But Bridget is planning the menu now. I’m cooking. End of story.”
He reaches across the table and squeezes my hand, mouthing ‘sorry’. I brush the thought away. His Granny has been so supportive of us since the day after Saint Patrick’s day, when he took me around to her cottage in the back of the castle estate. She said it was more than fate, it was a miracle. She’d always wanted me to settle down soon enough for her to see it.
“We love you too, yes, I’ll send some photos straight away.”
When he hangs up he is grinning. “She was trying to tell me it would be too much work for us to do the food for the rehearsal dinner.”
“It’s what I’m most excited about!”
Beckett’s eyes widen, feigning offense. “Wow, more excited than marrying me? Or, aren’t lassies supposed to be most excited about the wedding dress?”
I bite my lip. “Actually, I’m not exactly looking forward to that part.”
Beckett frowns. “What are you talking about?”
“Well, I’m just not sure what I’ll find to fit me.”
“I don’t follow. You’ll look great in anything.”
“The thing is, in August I’ll be seven months pregnant, Beckett.”
He jumps up, nearly knocking over the lattes. “No fecking way?!”
“Way. I took four tests this morning. All positive.”
He wraps his arms around me, kissing my cheeks, his hands in my hair, his eyes bright. “The baby spice worked,” he says, laughing. “I knew Granny wasn’t talking out of her arse.”
I look at my fiancé with wonder. “You’re not mad? We have so many plans … so many dreams. How will we do them with a baby?”
“And we can make all the plans come true, Bridget. A child will change things, but it’s all good changes.”
His laughter is infectious and I join in. “Oh Beckett, I love you so much,” I tell him, resting my face against his chest.
“What would our lives be if you hadn’t come into the kitchen after the concert, starving?” he asks.
“I don’t want to know. I’m just happy I had such an appetite.”
He looks down at the coffee and quiche now cold on the table. “You still hungry?” The look in his eyes tells me he isn’t thinking about anything you can order at the restaurant.
“I’m starved, Beckett O’Connor, and you’re the only meal I want.”
Ready for another round?
Ireland Forever brought to you by the Flirt Club Authors!
Baby Spice Forever by Frankie Love http://smarturl.it/BabySpiceForever
Forever At Last by Rebecca Norrine http://smarturl.it/ForeverAtLast
Forever Dublin by Olivia Hawthorne http://smarturl.it/ForeverDublin19
Forever His Baby by Kim Loraine http://smarturl.it/ForeverHisBaby19
Forever His Girl by Alexx Andria http://smarturl.it/ForeverHisGirl
Forever Kissed by Dori Lavelle http://smarturl.it/ForeverKissed
Forever Mine by Laney Powell http://smarturl.it/ForeverMine19
Forever My Love my Fiona Starr http://smarturl.it/ForeverMyLove
Forever Ruined by Tracy Lorraine http://smarturl.it/ForeverRuined
Forever Tied by Derek Masters http://smarturl.it/ForeverTied
Forever Together by Angel
Devlin http://smarturl.it/ForeverTogether19
Forever True by Rebecca Gallo http://smarturl.it/ForeverTrue
Spring Break Baby Burrito
By Frankie Love
Bayleigh has sun-kissed skin with lots of curves and her tiny bikini has me wanting more than her drink order.
I’m filling in as a bartender at the Cancun Paradise Resort —and my shift is just ending.
She’s looking at me like she knows I’ll deliver the cocktail she’s dreaming about.
When I pull her to my lap, we both know this night is just getting started.
Dear Reader,
Short. Sweet. Sun-drenched.
I didn’t have any spring-breaks-gone-wild myself, so this April I’m living vicariously through Bayleigh and Brody!
He’s more than an alpha with a six pack … this hottie is about to become a daddy!
xo, frankie
Chapter One
Brody
She has no idea how hot she is, lying there on a lounge chair, a kindle in hand. Good
thing I’m standing behind of this pool bar because my cock is hard as hell. I can’t help but look at her, lounging in the sun with skin that sparkles like the sand. My damn hard-on knows what it wants. And right now, it’s most interested in this woman sitting in her string bikini with the right amount of junk in her trunk.
A waiter walks toward her, and sets a plate on the table beside her. I make a few margaritas for the vacationers waiting for their drinks at the swim-up bar, my eyes on her the whole time. I can hear her from where I stand.
“Oh, this looks so good. Thank you so much,” she says, handing him a tip.
He smiles appreciatively and I’m glad she isn’t like some tourists who come here without the decency to tip the staff who work so hard to make their vacation a dream. As the owner of this resort, I like to know how it operates at the ground level. Today, that means I’m behind the bar, taking orders.
The woman licks her pink lips and picks up her fork, groaning in pleasure as she eats her burrito. A friend of hers walks over, sitting on the lounge chair opposite her. I wish I could hear more of what they’re saying, but what I gather is that my dream girl is starving and that this burrito is her favorite meal on earth.
I smile. I like a woman with an appetite.
My cock twitches, thinking the exact same thing.
When she finishes her food she steps into the pool, I clench my jaw. Heads turn — men and woman alike. Whoever this beauty is she has everyone’s attention.
In the pool her tits look even better, glistening with droplets of water. She pauses, talking to the group of ladies she came her with. They’ve been at the pool all afternoon.
“Last call,” I shout from the bar. The pool bar closes at five, when most resort guests head back to their rooms to change before dinner at one of the six gourmet restaurants. She swims toward me, and my heart pounds. I’m so ready to meet her— I’ve been thinking about it for hours. How can I articulate how hot I think she is without coming across as a goddamn creeper?
She sits on the stool in the water, a friend of hers swimming over and sitting beside her.
“What can I get you ladies?” I ask, aware of the sun falling across her eyes. She squints, a hand over her eyebrow.
“A pair of sunglasses?” she asks with a laugh. It’s a laugh that sounds like waves rolling. I could drown in that laugh.
I take my glasses off, handing them over. “Your wish is my command,” I tell her, inwardly groaning at my phrase. How cliché. She doesn’t seem to mind.
“Wow, what a gentleman,” she says looking me over before sliding my glasses on her face and covering her baby blues.
“Always am,” I tell her, aware of her eyes running over my bare chest, my arms, my tanned torso.
She bites her bottom lip. I know she like what she sees.
“God Bay, good thing I have my hat,” her friend says playfully.
“That your name? Bay?” I ask, not wanting to appear too eager but fuck, I want to know every damn thing about her.
She nods. “Well, Bayleigh James. And this is Tabby my best-friend. What’s your name?”
I point to my name tag that reads BRO. She smiles. “So you’re a real bro, huh? Let me guess, you’re a frat boy who moved down here after college to have some fun with the girls on spring break?”
I chuckle. “You think you got me pegged, is that it?”
“I bet I’m not too far off, Bro.” She adjusts her sting bikini, the triangle cups not doing a very good job of keeping her girls covered.
“It’s Brody Williams, actually,” I clarify. “So what can I get you ladies?”
“Tequila.” Bay grins, patting the counter. “The best stuff you’ve got.”
“As you wish.” I turn and grab the Patron from the cooler. Pour two shot glasses full, dip limes in salt. Hand them over to Bay and Tabby.
“No way, you have to drink too,” Bay says to me with a wide smile.
Tabby pushes her glass toward me. “No more for me, I’m spent. The heat is getting to me.”
Bay frowns. “Want me to go back up to the room with you?”
Tabby slides off the stool and shakes her head with a laugh. “No, have fun with your new Bro, and enjoy the beach. There’s a big party out there tonight.”
Bay twists her lips. “I don’t know if I wanna hit that up alone.”
Tabby points to their girlfriends in the pool. “Tracy and Lydia will be there. Besides, I think your Bro will make sure you get home safe.”
Color fills Bay’s cheeks and it makes me wonder if she’s been talking about me to her friends the same way I’ve been thinking about her.
Tabby kisses Bay’s cheek and then swims away. Bay turns back to me. “So are we doing this or what?”
I chuckle. “Wow, that was fast.”
She wrinkles her nose and picks up the shot of tequila. “I was meaning are we doing this shot.”
Laughing in understanding, I lift my glass, clink my rim against hers. “Cheers,” I say before we both tip them back, then sucking on the lime.
“Another?” she asks. But she already knows the answer.
Tonight, I’ll give her whatever she likes.
Chapter Two
Bayleigh
After two shots I’m the perfect kinda tipsy. Clear headed enough to make good decisions but buzzing enough to come out of my shell.
“Oh my god,” I say laughing, slamming down the shot glass.
“Do you need something to eat?” Brody asks. He’s closing up the bar for the night. Most of the guests are leaving the pool.
“No,” I say patting my bare belly that’s poking out. “I just ate actually. I have a baby burrito now.”
He laughs. “A baby burrito?”
I nod, sticking out my gut thinking about the massive burrito I just ate pool-side. Not exactly sexy, but I’m all about honesty. “Yep, a brand new baby burrito, right there.”
“Well it looks good on you,” he says. “I didn’t even know you were preggo.”
I laugh. “It’s pretty recent. About an hour along.”
“What are you going to name it?”
I tap my finger to my lip. “Depends if it’s a boy or girl.”
“Man,” Brody says, shaking his head. “You should have had two burritos for dinner, then you’d be having twins.”
I’m cracking up and he slides me a cup of ice water. “You think I could handle twins?”
“Twin burritos? Sure.”
I take a sip of water. “You want kids?” I ask him.
He shrugs, having no idea how insanely hot he is. All day my girlfriends and I have been gawking over him. They dared me to come over and order a drink just now, knowing I’d never usually put myself out here.
But here I am, wearing Brody’s glasses, drinking the water he poured me and flirting. I mean, sure I’m patting my belly and talking about food items as if they are my offspring, but I still think it counts as flirting.
> “I want kids, sure. Do you?”
I nod. “Yep. I want two kids. A boy and a girl before I’m thirty. Well, I want to get married first. So I have six years to get that all done. Granted, I just started my job as a content creator, so I guess my career might have to go one hold. But yeah, that’s the dream.”
He lifts his eyebrows. “You got it all planned out.”
I laugh. “Is that weird thing to tell a guy you just met?
“Not weird, just honest. A lot of guys would be scared of a woman with that amount of confidence.”
I look down at the empty shot glasses. “The tequila helped.”
He runs a hand over the base of his neck. “Otherwise you wouldn’t put it out on the table?”
I lick my lips. Gosh he is so attractive, so easy to talk to, so comfortable in his own skin. “I didn’t put it all out on the table.”
“No?” His curiosity is piqued and he leans over the counter. “What are you holding back?”
I swallow. This is my moment. To say what want, to ask and then take, to be the version of Bayleigh I’m usually way to reserved to be with guys. I can be a goof ball with my girlfriends, even tell them my wildest fantasies — but with a guy as sexy as Brody? I’m not that confident.
“Would you rather I go first?” he asks. I rest my chin in my hand, our eyes level.
