Second Chance on St. Patrick's Day: A Billionaire Romance

by Mia Ford

  “I forgive you, Conner McGee,” I said. “Just don’t ever do anything like that again.”

  He smiled and rubbed his nose to mine. “You have my word, lassie. The word of a good Irishman.”

  Epilogue: Katie O’Hara McGee

  Conner’s house in the Hamptons had become my favorite place on Earth, maybe because that was where my love for him first caught spark. Admittedly, there was no love between us the first time we slept together. We didn’t even know each other then. I was Mollie the paralegal and he was Brad the banker.

  Neither of us thought we would ever see the other person again. Maybe that was what made it so exciting, so incredible. We both went into it with abandon and recklessness. I did things with him that night that I had never done with any man before or since, at least until we reconnected as Conner and Katie two months later.

  That first night was an incredible experience, and one I do not regret in the least. But it was supposed to be a one-night stand, all about the spontaneity and the excitement of having sex with a total stranger. I loved the experience, but at that time I didn’t love the man because I didn’t even know who the man was.

  Now, I knew him intimately, inside and out, with no mystery or pretense.

  I had never imagined loving someone so much.

  By the end of our first weekend at the Hamptons house, I could feel a little spark for Conner McGee igniting in my chest—and in other places. I could make myself wet just by thinking of him. And he could make me cum with a single touch. The electricity between us, the animal magnetism, was unlike anything I had ever experienced before. It was truly magical in so many ways.

  When we were alone, he was not the pompous, rich, cut-throat, playboy I initially thought he would be. Beneath all the wealth and trappings and bravado was a good man with a heart of gold.

  We were like Beauty & the Beast, with me being Beauty, of course. And like the Beast, once the spell of his own reputation and ego was broken, a wonderful man emerged from underneath. That’s why the Hamptons house was so special to me, because I considered that the birthplace of our love.

  We travelled to the Hamptons house every weekend that we could get away in the spring and fall, and spent long weekends there in the summer when the weather was hot, and the ocean was warm.

  We had our own little stretch of private, secluded beach away from the rest of the islanders. I can’t tell you how many hours we had spent lying on the sand, lounging naked in the sun, and skinny dipping in the ocean.

  We always ended up making love at the end of the day. Sometimes I found sand in the strangest places. It always made me smile.

  Conner kept hinting that we needed a bigger Hamptons house where we could bring up a large family, i.e. kids, but I disagreed. We lived together in his spacious penthouse in the city, and he had humongous houses all over the world: Paris, London, Madrid, Malibu, Vegas, and Aspen. We did not need a larger place in the Hamptons.

  I did not disagree with the big family part, of course. I was a good Irish Catholic girl. I wanted a houseful of kids. To not have them would have been considered a sin in my family. My father and brothers would have never let me hear the end of it. But for me, this house was plenty big enough for a brood of Irish lads and lasses. And the memories we’d made in this house over the past year were ones I’d cherish for the rest of my life.

  We had talked about getting married at the Hampton house, but my dad quickly kyboshed that idea. There was no way he and my six brothers, and their large, extended families, could all travel to the Hamptons for what he called a “fancy-shmancy rich asshole’s wedding”. The rich asshole was, of course, Conner. He and my father were still not the best of friends and probably never would be, but they got along well enough for my benefit, which was all I could ask of them.

  Naturally, Conner wanted the wedding to end all weddings, the bigger the better, sparing no expense of course. And he wanted it to be a spectacle on par with his reputation and bank account. He wanted to invite the cream of New York society to the house, the richest men and women in the country, and fly in Lady Gaga to perform on a stage setup on the beach. And have the Cardinal of New York City—supposedly a close friend of the Pope himself—to perform the ceremony. When I ran those plans past my dad, he nearly went through the roof of his bar.

  “You’re a South Boston girl, Katie O’Hara, and you’ll be married in Boston or it’ll be the death of us all.”

  “But, Dad…”

  “Your poor mother, thank Jesus, Joseph, and Mary that she is not here to hear you talking out of your head like this.”

  “But, dad…”

  “No, stop, no more,” he said, holding up his meaty hands like he was pushing back an evil spirit. “You’ll be married here at St. Pat’s, in the church your mother loved so dear.”

  “You mean the church that you haven’t set foot in since mom died?”

  “Well… maybe it’s time I got back to going,” he said, a look of shame on his ruddy face. “Maybe if I went to church more you would not have gotten involved with the Devil himself.”

  “Dad, Conner is not the Devil,” I said, rolling my eyes as I stood behind the bar stacking dirty beer mugs and shot glasses into a rack that I would carry into the kitchen to wash. I’d flown in to spend the weekend with him and break the news of my impending nuptials. Spending time with Sean O’Hara meant being shoulder to shoulder with him behind the bar slogging beers and shots for rowdy customers.

  “If he’s not the Devil, he’s a damned close relative,” Dad said, shaking his head. “What he tried to do to your Uncle Allen was just shameless. I can’t believe you give him the time of day.”

  “He made things right with Uncle Allen,” I said firmly. I reached across the bar and put my hand on his. “And I’m going to marry him, Dad, no matter how big a fit you pitch or how many threats you make. I love him, and he loves me. And that’s all that matters. That’s all Mom would have cared about.”

  He scrunched up his nose and worked his mouth back and forth. “Dammit, Katie girl, he’s just not good enough for you…”

  “I’m not Katie girl anymore, dad,” I said, giving his hand a squeeze. “I’m a woman now. And I’m in love with Conner McGee. I’m going to be Mrs. Katie O’Hara McGee, and there’s nothing you can do to stop our plans, so please, give me your blessing and be happy for me.”

  “You’re breaking me heart, Katie O’Hara,” he said dramatically. “I had such high hopes for you.”

  “Dad…” I came around the bar to stand beside him. I leaned over and rested my head on his shoulder. “Is Conner perfect? No. Do I want him to be? No, not really. I love him just the way he is. And if you would give him a chance, you’d learn to love him, too.”

  He cut his eyes at me and shook his head. “I’ll never love that man,” he said in a huff. He turned to face me, and stared deeply into my eyes. With his hands on my shoulders, he worked up a smile. “But, I reckon it’s okay if you do.”

  “Well, that’s good to know,” I said with a relieved smile. My eyes welled with tears. “Because I am going to marry him, Dad. And give him lots and lots of adorable little Irish children.”

  His features softened at the prospect of more grandchildren, adding to the twelve he already had by my brothers. “Fine, I will give you my blessing, but the wedding must be here in Boston. If you won’t do it for me, do it for your brothers. They don’t have Conner McGee’s money, nor will they accept his charity. They are hard working men with families. They can’t take time off to come to some rich ass—I mean, well, hell’s bells, Katie girl, you know what I mean.”

  “Fine,” I said with a nod. “We’ll have the wedding here, in Boston, Dad, but you are not paying for it.”

  “It’s a father’s duty to pay for his daughter’s wedding,” he said with a frown. He could frown all he wanted. My dad barely made enough money to get by. There was no way he was going to pay for my wedding.

  “Dad, I’m marrying one of the richest men in New Yor
k. And I make a very good living at my job. I’ll have the wedding in Boston, but only if you agree to let Conner and I foot the bill.”

  “Fine, but can we have a big party here the night before?”

  “Fair enough,” I said. I held up my hand and spat into it, then stuck it out to him. “Shake on it to seal the deal.”

  So, we shook on it and the wedding was held at St. Patrick’s in Boston two months later. Conner was not thrilled about having to cut the guest list down by half, but a little favor on my part quickly got him to change his mind. Remember that, ladies, a quick blowjob can change a man’s mind faster than a long argument.

  After the wedding, which was beautiful, by the way, we had a large reception in the church basement. I wore my mother’s wedding dress (we were the same size, thank you, Jesus) and Conner wore his best tuxedo. Reed was Conner’s best man and Cassandra was Reed’s date. I was glad they had all made up. Good friends were hard to find, even slimy ones like Reed. It would have been a shame to lose them over something as sinful as money.

  The service was quick, and the applause was loud, just as I had hoped it would be. The attendees gave us a standing ovation as we walked down the aisle for the first time as husband and wife.

  My entire family was there, including Uncle Allen, who was back running his company, Benson Digital. He was still battling cancer, but he looked healthier than he had looked in a long time. He even stood up and toasted me and Conner at the reception.

  We had come a long way since the fight in Conner’s office, thanks in large part to Conner strong-arming Reed into not pressing charges and letting Uncle Allen buy back the manufacturing piece of Benson Digital.

  The truth was, Uncle Allen wasn’t concerned that Price Bean & Whitlock would keep the patents for the chips. He was a designer. He would have a new chip design in the patent office by the end of the year. And he would protect this one with his life.

  “Here’s to you, Katie and Conner,” Uncle Allen said, lifting his glass high. “To a long and healthy life. May your prosperity be surpassed only by your happiness and love for one another. As they say in mother Ireland, ‘Sláinte mhaith’ everyone. To your health.”

  * * *

  “That was a wonderful day,” I said, lying in the crook of Conner’s arm with my head on his chest and my hand resting on his stomach. We were at the Bridal Suite of The Four Seasons in downtown Boston. It was after midnight and we’d just undressed and collapsed on the bed after our reception.

  Conner was drunk.

  I was drunker.

  “Aye, a wonderful day indeed, lassie,” he said, mocking my father’s Irish brogue. “It wasn’t the Hamptons, but what the hell.”

  “Yes, what the hell,” I said, snuggling in close, pressing my breasts to his warm, naked body. I wrapped my legs around his thigh and pressed my crotch to his leg. “And now…”

  “And now what, Mrs. McGee?” he asked playfully. His arm was round me. He took my ass in his hand and ground my cunt harder to him. My pussy left a wet spot on his leg.

  “And now, the marriage must be consummated,” I said, kissing his jaw as my hand slid down his stomach to find his cock hard and ready. I kicked back the covers and let my hand go to work, slowly sliding up and down, squeezing the shaft until he was fully erect. He moaned in my ear with each stroke.

  “Please consummate the fuck out of me,” he said with a drunken smile. “Then I’ll consummate the fuck out of you.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I rolled on top of him and held his cock in my hand as I straddled his hips. He put his hands on my sides to steady me.

  “I’m a bit drunk,” I said. “You might have to hold me steady.”

  “Me, too,” he said. “Ain’t it great?”

  I lowered my pussy onto his cock. The bulbous head took my breath away as it slid inside me, followed by the thick shaft. My pussy stretched and suctioned around him for a tight fit. I eased myself down until I felt the tip of his cock hit my cervix, then I put my hands on his chest and started drawing my hips slowly back and forth, my pussy sliding over the length of his shaft, stopping when I felt the head of his cock at my hole, then I slid back on again.

  Conner’s hands on my hips helped set the rhythm. “Mmmm… that feels… amazing…” he sighed. “Your pussy… is so fucking… tight…”

  “Maybe because you… fill it up…” I said, leaning down to press my lips to his. His tongue darted out like a hungry snake. It swirled around my lips. I wrapped my lips around his tongue and sucked it into my mouth. It made him groan like an animal.

  My body was suddenly on fire, from the tips of my curling toes to the top of my head. I pushed myself up and kept my hips going. Conner’s hands found my breasts and he squeezed them hard, like I liked it. My long nipples plumped and turned red as he tweaked them between his thumbs and forefingers.

  “Oh… Conner… fuck…”

  “Yes… yes…”

  The orgasm was building quickly inside me. I felt little tingles of electricity shooting through me, as if I’d touched a live wire. I put my hands on his chest again and looked him in the eye.

  “I’m ready… to cum…” I said. “You… ready… cum… with me…”

  “Yes… ma’am…” He dug his fingers into my sides and sucked in a quick breath. He started lifting me up and slamming me down hard on his cock. The head rammed against my cervix. My pussy clenched tightly around the shaft. I dug my nails into his chest and moaned.

  “I’m… cumming… oh… Conner… fuck… I’m… cumming…”

  I screamed his name as I came, gushing my hot juices over his cock and balls, drenching him with my hot oils. Conner ground his teeth together and arched his hips to shove his cock in as deep as it would go. I felt the heat of him cumming inside me, filling me with the milky, hot, white seed that one day would give us the big family we both desired.

  After a moment of vibrating and bucking up and down, our bodies gave out and I collapsed on top of him, our bodies mashing together. We were both sweating like pigs, and panting like sled dogs.

  “Fuck, that was… amazing… Mrs. McGee,” he said, his lips at my ear.

  “You’re amazing, Mr. McGee,” I said. I pushed myself up and kissed him long and hard, then rolled off him to catch my breath. In less a minute, I heard his breathing grow slow and deep. I put my hand on his chest as it rose and fell. My new husband had passed out with a smile on his face.

  As I lay there thinking about the past year, how far we had come, I smiled.

  The future was bright for Mollie the paralegal and Brad the banker.

  For Conner and Katie McGee.

  We loved each other deeply.

  And we had the luck of the Irish on our side.

  There was no way we could lose.

  Bonus Scene

  Conner ran ahead of me and flopped down in the sand on his back. When I caught up to him, I could see the bright moonlight dancing in his eyes, the whiteness of his teeth as he grinned up at me like a wolf ready to devour a willing sheep. His dark hair was wringing wet. The curls on his chest and over his long cock glistened with droplets of warm salt water.

  He was completely naked; tall, lean, tanned, lying with his hands behind his head and long legs crossed at the ankles. I was naked, too, as usual during our late-night jaunts on the beach. It was nearly midnight and the beach in front of his Hamptons house was private and secluded. We often swam and sunned in the nude there. And did other things, of course. Sometimes I found sand in the oddest of places.

  I wrung the water out of my long blonde hair and let my eyes go over his body, illuminated by the light of the full moon. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on Conner McGee’s solid frame. His shoulders and chest flexed with muscle. His stomach sported a six-pack that would have made a fitness model jealous. I couldn’t wait to run my tongue across his hard nipples and down his perfectly-chiseled abs toward the hard prize that waited further south.

  “God, you have an amazing body,” he said, sm
iling up at me. He took himself in his right hand and began to slide his hand up and down. “I love your tits.”

  “And my tits love you,” I said. My tits were not huge, but they were natural and firm and more than a handful. Conner loved to kiss them and play with my nipples. I playfully cupped my tits in my hands and held them up for him to see. I ran my thumb over my nipple and we moaned playfully at each other.

  Conner’s cock quickly grew hard in anticipation of what we both knew came next. When he lay back with his fingers laced behind his neck, his cock stood up like the mast of a great ship. I felt myself getting warm and wet. I couldn’t wait to climb aboard.

  I fell to my knees on the sand beside him. I wrapped my fingers around his cock, ten-inches long, so thick and veiny. He growled like an animal at my touch, which made me gush like a river. I slowly slid my hand up and down the shaft, round and round, as I pressed my lips to the blossoming head.

  I toyed with the tip of his cock for a minute, letting my tongue slither beneath the round head, flicking little kisses up and down the shaft from balls to tip.

  “Fuck me, baby,” Conner said. “Fuck me now.” I glanced up with his cock still at my lips and grinned. He was reaching for me. Wiggling his fingers. He wanted me as badly as I wanted him.

  I straddled his hips, mounting him like the great stallion that he was. He put his hands on my hips and slowly lowered my wet pussy onto his rigid cock.