Lucky Charm: A St. Patrick's Day Irish Billionaire Fake Fiance Romance

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Lucky Charm: A St. Patrick's Day Irish Billionaire Fake Fiance Romance Page 4

by Eva Luxe


  Catching on to my over the top acting, Hazel grabs me by the arms and holds me close. “Liam’s taught me that I should appreciate myself more, and that if I want something a bit extravagant, I should do what I can to get it.”

  Playing along, I continue this lie. “Because you deserve it, darlin’ love o’ mine.”

  This cute pet name sends Scott off the rails. It was already transparent that he still had feelings for Hazel, considering how worked up he was getting about this sham relationship, and how distant he was acting towards Brittany as she was gripping my biceps and rubbing the length of my shoulders.

  There’s no way he’s happy with Brittany. Who could be, when her greatest joy in life seems to be causing misery to everyone around her? He wants what I — what he thinks I — have: doe-eyed Hazel. And who could blame the poor bloke? She’s by far the better choice of the two. I can’t believe he would up and dump her for sour-faced Brittany. But I guess he’s just that much of an idiot, and that the two of them deserve each other.

  “Well, how in the hell is it that a nobody Starbucks barista can afford this supposed lavish wedding? I know nobody’s leaving thousand dollar tips in this dump,” he proclaims a bit louder than anybody was expecting.

  Apparently, he’s just as rude as his counterpart. I roll my eyes at pretty Hazel, as if to say, “Well aren’t these two perfectly cuddled up peas in a pod?”

  “You’re right, nobody is leaving thousand dollar tips in this ‘dump’ I assume you regularly visit, but without giving too much away, things aren’t always what they seem, Scotty boy,” I tell him.

  “Scott. Not Scotty boy. Call me Scott,” he demands.

  “Sure thing, Scotty boy, just as soon as you apologize to my dear Hazel for being such a dick to her,” I suggest sternly.

  No response this time from big man Scott. Instead, I hear Brittany mutter something under her breath about how there’s no way Hazel could snag a guy as handsome and rich as me. While I do appreciate the compliment and just how riled up this couple has become at this whole scenario they inserted themselves into in the first place, there’s no way I can accept such backhanded praise at Hazel’s expense. Plus, I really do have to be going now.

  “Look, we have a lot to do today, and I’d very much like it if the two of you went on about your day,” I tell them both, ignoring Brittany’s quiet backhanded compliment.

  The two of them seem shocked that somebody finally admitted to not wanting to have them around. So many people they know probably want to say that to the two of them on a daily basis, considering how relieved I feel saying it after only one conversation.

  But most people are more polite, and I have no need to be, since I’ll never see the two of them again— I don’t think. Unless, I think, sneaking a glance at lovely Hazel, things progress from here, which would be very nice indeed. Nice, anyway, when it comes to getting to see Hazel again— not necessarily having to see these two doofuses again, although it is quite entertaining to see them him and haw at not being completely fawned over like they’re probably used to.

  “We have places to be anyway,” Brittany says, as she gets up. Showing off even further how much she’s in charge of the relationship, she loudly slaps Scott’s back, indicating that he’s to stand up and leave with her.

  “See ya around,” she moans, with an uncomfortably evil tone in her voice. Scott follows her with his proverbial tail between his legs.

  Both Hazel and I smile wide and wave to them as they walk away.

  She shouts, “Hope to see you both soon!”

  Then she holds my arm tighter and tighter as the footsteps of the terrible couple grow quieter. She doesn’t have to utter a single word. I know exactly what she’s thinking.

  Thank goodness those assholes are gone. But it was a little bit of fun while it lasted.

  Chapter 8

  Hazel

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you so much, Liam!”

  I don’t just want to thank him verbally, but that’s all I can do right now. If there was any way to get him naked here and now, I’d love to have him thrust into me while he pins me up against the closest wall of the very Starbucks we’re standing in. Unfortunately, we can’t do that, so my words will have to do.

  “It’s no problem,” he says, with a chuckle. “Any time. Although, I hope those two have learned their lesson.”

  “You probably have to get back to work now, huh? I’m sorry for taking up so much of your break,” I tell him, in a lower volume.

  I notice him checking his watch and letting out a big sigh of what I can only assume is disappointment. I’m not sure if he’s disappointed that he has to leave or that I’ve made him late.

  “Y’know,” he tells me, “that was quite fun. And I wasn’t half bad.”

  A wave of relief washes over me. This hunk of a man hasn’t known me for more than a couple minutes and already knows the right thing to say at any given moment.

  “So, sweet darlin’ of mine, what do you think about going to that housewarming party?” he asks, in a way that I can’t tell whether is a joking or serious manner.

  I laugh the question off and thank him again for playing along with such a sudden and highly dramatic situation. The next couple of minutes are utter bliss. He asks me if he can get to know his betrothed a bit better, a request I’d of course comply with.

  I tell him about my life draining job, my artistic desires, and give him a bit more of the details on the whole Brittany-Scott situation. Liam doesn’t tell me much about himself, though. Instead he again asks what I think about going to Brittany and Scott’s housewarming party.

  “You’re not joking?”

  He laughs. “No, I’m serious. What if we actually show up on Friday? Wouldn’t that be a riot?”

  Part of me thinks that he’s just using this housewarming party as an excuse to see me again. And not a single part of me has a problem with that. I’m enjoying his company so much that I don’t even want him to go back behind the counter. Besides, I can’t think of any downsides to going to this party other than having to share space with that whore, Brittany, and that mouse of a man I used to date.

  “I guess we could,” I tell him.

  “Sure, we could,” he proclaims. “You and I dress to the nines and show ‘em who looks better together. Maybe we can even mess up something of theirs, while we’re at their new place, just like they messed up your life.”

  “Mess up something?” I ask him. “Like what?”

  He pauses for a moment to think about his answer. “Their sheets?”

  If anyone else had answered that I’d probably be grossed out, but I can’t help but feel a bit titillated by his answer. But because I take so long to actually react to his answer, he laughs, and acts as though he was just joking about messing up their sheets.

  Something in my gut tells me that he was not being facetious in the slightest when he suggested that. Finally, I laugh too, and think that it’s something I might actually do if given the right opportunity and the right man— which, it appears I may have.

  My phone pings and shoots me out of this suspended reality thick with sexual tension. It’s a message from my work friend Lyssa.

  Not showin up 2day?

  “Shit,” I exclaim. “I’m late for work.”

  Of fucking course. That’s why Brittany and Scott left when they did. It wasn’t because Liam had made the conversation too uncomfortable, since they don’t read situations like normal people do, being the entitled assholes that they are— it’s because Brittany had to get to work on time.

  Intent on making my life as problem free as possible, Liam tells me not to apologize for having to leave. He explains that he has somewhere to be himself. He must have to clock back in soon.

  Before I step out of the coffee shop, Liam stops me and asks me if he can put his number in my phone. A normal person would just ask for my number, but Liam is dead set on not being normal but in the best, most attractive and charming way.

 
; He takes my phone and not only adds his name and number to my list of contacts but also takes a selfie to add to his contact profile. When he hands me back my phone, he not only wishes me a great day at work, but blows me a kiss goodbye before stepping back into the Starbucks.

  For the first time in six months, I’m biking the rest of the way to work with a smile on my face. Instead of dreading the day ahead, I’m thinking about meeting up with and spending more time with this gorgeous Irish fellow.

  A monumentally stressful situation was turned manageable and even enjoyable with Liam’s aid and that’s all that’s running through my mind. Just replaying the events of this morning makes the day more bearable.

  Chapter 9

  Hazel

  I arrive at the offices of Horowitz and Chau much faster than I expected but I’m still very late. Even being scolded by my boss isn’t as bad as it would have been on any other day of the year, because the thought of Liam’s radiant smile burns through any negativity I’m facing in reality.

  Without a single worry in my mind, the day just flies by me until lunch. Lyssa, the friend who has replaced Brittany in my life and the absolute opposite of that man-stealing succubus, snaps me out of my daze with a light slap on the arm.

  “Where were you?”

  I still have a daydream-y smile on my face but with it, I answer her. “I met someone.”

  In very few words, I explain to her the unusual morning I had.

  “That explains a lot, actually. Brittany has been in a bitchy mood all day. Bitchier than usual, I mean,” Lyssa says, laughing.

  It brings me some real joy to know that Brittany had been so deeply affected by my supposed future wedding. I then explain to Lyssa how Liam had suggested we show up to Brittany and Scott’s housewarming party tomorrow.

  “That’s insane, you can’t do that. You got away with this weird lie once, why push it any further?” she asks worriedly.

  It’s a fair question. My only answer has to do a lot with my sudden infatuation with Liam, if I’m being honest. But I just tell Lyssa that we’re having fun and seeing how far we can go along with this idea. She insists it’s a bad idea that'll only end up in heartbreak if I feel like I'm falling for him.

  “Well, what does this Liam person look like?” Lyssa then asks me.

  I start to describe him in great detail until I remember he had taken a selfie on my phone. Lyssa stares at this low resolution picture for some time and finally turns to me with an excited look.

  “Hey, what do I know?” Lyssa says. “This dude is sexy as hell, play along with him for as long as you’d like.”

  Lyssa is someone I feel I can trust to be a real friend. She’s been the strongest beam of my support system these past few months, so I confide in her often and ask her for advice.

  “Do you really think I should go?”

  She nods her head enthusiastically and asks me what I’m wearing. After rattling off a couple outfit options I could show myself off in, Lyssa suggests I go shopping for a tight dress that'll drive all men, but most importantly Liam, crazy.

  I have no choice but to take her up on it. After all, she’s my new best friend and she’s presenting me with the oldest advice in the book. Look good, and get the man. Can do, I think, vowing to buy something on my way home from work that will really wow him. And hoping it will last longer than just one crazy housewarming party.

  ***

  Later in the day, I walk into my apartment after a long day of work and a quick shopping trip. During the shopping trip, I went to a vintage boutique and bought myself an admittedly revealing red dress that feels like velvet. The dress fits me perfectly and shows off my curves. It’s the perfect dress to wear to the party tomorrow. I have two goals for tomorrow: making Liam fall head over heels for me, and making Brittany the most self conscious person at her own housewarming party.

  I look in the mirror and see myself looking much hotter than I’ve ever looked, if I do say so myself. I stand in some sexy poses pretending to have Liam as my photographer, shooting me at all types of angles. In my head, Liam the photographer asks me to get on the bed and bend over. I do so in real life just for fun, but my mind can’t stop with this fantasy.

  My face presses against the mattress with my ass pushed up in the air. I slide my hands between my thighs and press my two strongest fingers against my already wet pussy. I open my lips and start slowly inserting my middle finger inside me, wishing it was Liam’s tongue.

  The image of my fake Irish fiancé spreading my legs with his big, strong hands warms my insides and a puddle of delicious wetness starts to form on my favorite pair of panties. I slide them off so I can get a good grip on my clit and I imagine Liam spanking me for being such a bad girl.

  Oh God, how I want Liam — need Liam inside me right now. If he so much as jokes about ruining Brittany and Scott’s sheets at the party, I swear I will take him up on it and actually do it. Self control can only hold me for so long. Just thinking about his shirtless, muscular body being pressed against my delicate skin, I want him to ruin me.

  My breathing and finger movements quicken when I think of him revealing his large cock to me. He’d present it to me, inches from my face and wait for my mouth to envelop his big, warm shaft. And I wouldn’t stop with my mouth. I’d let him in me if only he’d ask.

  I rub my clit as I think about his green eyes staring at me as he’s inside me. I want to make him feel the most intense climax while he turns me into his fuck toy. Fucking me until he’s ready to shoot his load all over me, wherever he wants. Thinking about him like this turns me into such a dirty girl.

  Oh, God, I think, as I play with myself while thinking about him. Oh, God.

  I cum hard as I exhale and wish it was Liam inside me instead of only my fingers. It’s only then, after an intense climax that leaves me wanting more, that I realize just how much I need him.

  Chapter 10

  Liam

  I’m no stranger to failure. In fact, I’m quite familiar with it, and it sometimes sends me to a dark place, but this week, I’ve found something to take my mind off of it. Someone, actually.

  The loveliest woman stumbled into my life. And while she made me a bit late for my audition (luckily, it didn’t matter, because they were running very behind schedule— however, I still didn’t get the part of the grocery store clerk, which, even though it was a minor role, is something I felt I should be able to easily get, and which is also why I say I’m no stranger to failure), she’s made my life so much better. My heart has never felt as light as it has since I met her.

  I’ve been gushing about her to myself for a whole day and trying not to fill her voicemail with messages. The last thing I want to do is seem desperate. Hazel must think I’m this cool, fun, spontaneous man. Not that I’m not— usually I’m quite confident, but something about Hazel makes me feel overwhelmed— in a good way.

  I won’t waste this opportunity, though. I can only do that so many times in one week, and my failed audition has met that quota.

  She sent me a text just moments ago asking me to pick her up to go to her bully’s housewarming party. I didn’t think she’d wait until the last bloody second to decide, but, better late than never. I’ve been dying to see her, and she told me she’ll be dressed to the nines.

  As I get dressed myself, I can’t help but think about what I want to do to her later. I need to take care of myself, to ease the tension. Soon I’m out of my boxers and my cock is standing at attention due to my thoughts of her.

  Hazel appears in my mind’s eye wearing a see-through nightie with some black lace lingerie underneath. In my fantasy, she opens the door to her apartment and without saying a word, invites me in. I grab her by the wrists and slam her up against the wall while I grind my growing cock on her panties.

  I inhale her sweet aroma and grind harder and harder against her quivering lips. She whispers in my ear, asking me to take her however I want. What else can I do but oblige? I tear her underwear off with my bare h
ands and kiss her thighs.

  The only thing stopping me from pursing my lips and kissing her clit lightly is the fact that she loves being tortured. The longer I deprave her pussy of any attention, the more she craves being penetrated. In real life, I move my hand up and down my shaft, wishing it could enter her sweet, wet pussy.

  In my mind, her moans turn to whimpers as she starts begging to be fucked. I slap her lightly on the ass and tell her I'll fuck her when she learns how to beg properly. Then I trace my fingers around her nipples, making a wave of goosebumps appear all over her chest. She’s almost there.

  And me? I’m arriving at the heights of ecstasy, myself. My cock quivers in my hand as it shoots out cum. That should tide me over until later when hopefully I can have my way with Hazel in real life. For now, it’s time to finish getting dressed and go see what this crazy evening has in store.

 

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