Doctor Lucky Charms: A Holiday Romance (Kilts and Kisses)

by K. C. Crowne

  His finger slipped between my soaking wet lips, his left hand on the small of my back, holding me in place.

  He leaned forward, his lips inches from my ear. “You like when I touch you like that?”

  I squirmed where I stood, barely able to keep myself standing, let alone speak.

  Finn’s big, rough hand moved down, his thumb on my clit and his fingers right at my opening. Slowly, making sure I knew what he was doing, he entered me with two thick digits. My walls gripped his fingers tightly, my eyes shutting hard.

  He let his fingers out and I felt a tinge of rage.

  Without a word, he swept me off my feet as the first orgasm faded, carrying me to the bed, holding me like I didn’t weigh anything at all. My body was still slightly shaking as he laid me down. He gave me a chance to recover, standing at the foot of the bed with that cocky smirk on his handsome face.

  He then dropped to his knees on the bed in front of me, placing my legs over his shoulders. I was wearing a skirt.

  He pushed the skirt up and slipped my panties down my thighs. Trembling, all I could think about was how badly I needed to feel him.

  His head dove between my legs as he muttered, “God, I need to taste you.”

  I grabbed his head, my eyes widening as his tongue found my most sensitive parts. He circled my clit, just as I’d imagined. His five o’clock shadow rubbed against my thighs, reminding me this wasn’t a fantasy - it was reality.

  Pleasure coursed through my body as he devoured my pussy, sucking and licking as if it was the most delicious dessert he’d ever had the luxury of eating.

  And he was so fucking good at it.

  My legs tightened around him, and I pressed him down into me without even thinking about it. It just felt so damn good.

  Again, he slipped his finger inside me. Then another.

  I was trying to be quiet, afraid that someone might overhear us, but that all went out the window as the first wave of my orgasm washed over me.

  I cried out, taken by surprise at how fast it came on. He never stopped, keeping the perfect rhythm with his tongue on my clit.

  “Oh God,” I whimpered, my body tensing. “Yes, yes!”

  He seemed to savor it.

  He devoured my pussy, sucking and licking my juices as he brought me closer and closer to the edge.

  “I’m going to come,” I whimpered, writhing underneath him.

  He held my hips down on the bed, stilling me as he continued working me over with his magical tongue. I gripped the back of his head, and without meaning to, pressed him into me as I cried out in pleasure.

  God, I needed him so badly.

  My hands fumbled with his pants, and I felt his erection in my hand.

  I could only get a sense of how big he was, but my eyes widened at what I felt. He was so thick.

  “Please. I need you inside me.”

  “That’s once,” he said, unbuttoning his pants and slipping them down, his huge cock straining against his black boxer-briefs. “But if you think you’re gonna get away with only coming once, you’re sorely mistaken.”

  Just hearing him speak in his sexy-as-fuck accent…it was almost enough to make me come a second time. The sight of his sculpted, lean, powerful body didn’t hurt matters either.

  Finn pulled down his boxers, his huge, thick cock springing out. It was enormous, mouth-watering. I needed it inside me more than anything.

  He swooped in, and within seconds the head of his cock rested between my lips, tingles of pleasure radiating out as he prepared to enter me. I clamped my hands on his perfect ass and pulled him toward me. He grinned as he moved into me, sliding all of his perfect inches inside, my eyes widening and my mouth forming into an “O” of total delight as he buried himself to the hilt.

  The sex was like nothing I’d ever experienced. After driving into me hard, making me come again, he effortlessly flipped me over and gave it to me just as good from behind.

  I switched it a bit, rolling him over and climbing on top. After riding him to a third orgasm, his cock throbbed, and Finn grabbed my ass, grunting hard as he unloaded deep inside me.

  I was done, totally exhausted in the best way possible. I fell to his side, curled up in his arms, and closed my eyes.

  “G’night, gorgeous.” Those were the best last words to hear before falling into a deep slumber.

  When I opened my eyes again, it was daylight.

  I was alone.

  I sat up, looking around as if what had happened the night before had been a dream.

  There was no sign of Finn in the room – no bags or anything. But there was a note on the pillow.

  Last night was a hell of a good time. Thank you for everything.

  •Finn

  And that was it.

  Part of me was pissed, but another was…happy. I sat up, the empty luxury suite all around me. Sure, Dr. McHottie had ditched, but so what?

  We’d gotten what we both wanted.

  I took a nice, long shower in the luxurious bathroom, not hurrying a bit. When I was finally dressed and ready, I left the room with a smile on my face.

  Mission accomplished.

  Back to the real world.

  Chapter 2

  Finn

  Three years later…

  “Once a prick, always a prick.”

  I was only a bit surprised to hear the words coming out of my mouth as I paced back and forth in my downtown Denver condo, my phone against my ear and my pa, Finnegan O’Connor, on the other end. I’d gone too far, but I didn’t give a good goddamn.

  My father was pulling his usual nonsense, and I wasn’t having it.

  He didn’t blow up after I’d spoken.

  No, the old man wasn’t like that. When he was mad, he didn’t get all hot under the collar like you might expect an old, cranky Irishman to get.

  He went silent.

  “You wanna say that again, boy?”

  Dad was giving me a chance to recant, to take the words back and act like I’d never said them. Maybe a wiser man would’ve taken him up on the offer, but I was too angry, too proud.

  I’d spent the last two years working for the old man, dancing to his tune. And two years was more than enough time to see his darkest side.

  I took a deep breath and spoke. “I said, once a prick, always a prick. I know you’re a GP, Da, but maybe you oughta swing by an ENT to get your ears cleaned out, yeah?”

  More silence.

  I waited, knowing there wasn’t a damn chance of what he might say being good.

  “Insolent bastard. I give you the chance of a lifetime, a chance to work under my wing and learn. And what do you do? Throw it right back in my face!””

  “Working?” I asked, feeling good and self-righteous. “That’s what you call what I was doing for you? Da, I’m a Harvard-trained doctor, and you wanted to keep me under your finger!”

  “That’s because you were my assistant. What did you expect, that you’d be my partner?”

  “I expected to be given some fair share of decency and respect - not to be treated like your damn Johnny on the spot!”

  “And there it is again – insolence. And arrogance, too. You think because you spent a few years at some American medical school that you’re ready for the big time?”

  I laughed. “Arrogance? Da – I’m not the one who can’t stand his son becoming a great doctor. Someone else’s success shouldn’t reflect poorly on you. All I’ve ever wanted was your approval. I’m done. No more.”

  “Boy,” he said, his voice edged with anger. “You think you can just work your way up without shedding any blood? I’ve spent years, decades, building my practice. You don’t do that overnight – and when you start, you start small.”

  “But I’m not thinking small. I want to do big things.”

  “What, you think you’re a more important doctor now because you’re in America? Important enough to think you can just leave with a two-weeks-notice.”

  “Standard for most employers, Da.
After all you always treated me with the same level of courtesy.”

  I was pushing it, and I knew it. Da could be patient, but when he felt as if his pride was being challenged, he could be a right bastard.

  “I know you’re thinking you’re the good guy in all of this, Da. But I’m telling you, you’re the one who didn’t take my resignation like a man. I wanted to stay in Dublin, work at one of the bigger hospitals. But you threatened to tarnish my name.”

  “You consider it tarnishing to tell them what kind of man you are?”

  “Rationalize it all you want, Da. But the reason I’m here is because my good friend offered me a position far away from where your words can affect me. You got no one to blame but yourself for all this.”

  “Bullshit!” he said, real anger in his words. “You want money and prestige, and you were thinking working with me wouldn’t give it to you fast enough.”

  “Da, I want to strike out on my own. Surely you can appreciate that – you started that damn clinic, right?”

  “I started it to work in my community. But I also started it to give you a legacy to inherit. That clinic was to be yours, boy.”

  “Well, you can keep it.”

  “Stay in America. I’m done with you boy.”

  “Done.”

  It was all I had patience for. I hung up the phone and tossed it onto the couch of my condo, letting out an annoyed grunt as it fell.

  My blood pounding in my veins, my jaw clenched, I was reminded of that old expression about an irresistible object meeting an immovable force.

  Two stubborn Irish men not seeing eye-to-eye was most definitely one of those situations.

  I knew I was right – that was the real clincher of it. I’d been working in Da’s clinic for years – almost three – and the old man had never seen me as anything other than his little boy, an order-taker who didn’t know a damn thing about treating patients.

  He was full of shit on that score.

  I knew plenty about being a doctor – you didn’t graduate at the top of your damn class if you didn’t.

  And the worst fucking part was that no one else knew the old man like I did.

  To everyone else in our town, he was Doc O’Connor, sweetest man they ever did see. He’d treated most people in our town since they were kids, and enough time had passed that he was now treating their kids.

  No doubt in my mind I’d be viewed by everybody in town as a total asshole, the prick who’d left his da’s clinic.

  He didn’t get it.

  He might’ve been a damn good doctor, but he didn’t know the first thing about living. And to me, living meant doing as much as I could.

  Helping as many as I could.

  Not feeling limited or suffocated.

  My phone buzzed on the couch; my first instinct that it was Da. But it wasn’t his style to call back after a hang-up. As much as he chewed me out about being arrogant and prideful, he was exactly the same.

  I stepped over to the phone and snatched it up. It was Duncan Pitt – my new boss and friend from back in med school. Phone in hand, I topped off my whiskey and answered.

  “Duncan!” I said, genuinely happy to be talking to the man. “What’s the word?”

  “Not much, man. How’re you settling in?”

  Drink in hand, I stepped over to the floor-to-ceiling windows of my thirtieth-floor condo. From my height I could see the sprawl of the city, the Rocky Mountains towering off in the distance.

  The sun had only recently set, so the edges of the mountains glowed with a gorgeous purple.

  “You know, I always wondered what the hell that song meant when they talked about America having purple mountains majesty or whatever the hell it was. But I get it now.”

  He chuckled. “Wait until you get a load of our fruited plains.”

  I laughed. “Can’t wait to see it. Anyway, don’t tell me you called to make sure I hadn’t forgotten about my first day tomorrow. Don’t worry – I got the alarm set and everything.”

  “Come on, bud,” he said. “I know you too well for that. The reason I’m calling was to see what you’re doing tonight.”

  I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could get out a word, I realized I had no idea how to answer the question. “Well, I got a bottle of Jameson’s here that I’m working my way through. And a blank after that.”

  “Perfect. I’m meeting my friend Gavin Davenport over at the Dorset. Got reservations at seven, and I realized that not only had you not met Gavin yet, but your place is only a couple blocks away. Figured you might want to join us?”

  I flipped up my wrist and checked the face of my Omega watch, as if I had something else going on.

  The idea of spending the night in my condo seemed like shit.

  More likely than not, I’d polish off my glass of Jameson’s, throw on some proper clothes, and hit the town.

  Might as well do it with some good company.

  “Well, you’re not a pretty redhead, Duncan – but you’ll do.”

  He chuckled. “Can’t win them all. See you soon.”

  I hung up, and the moment my phone was back in my pocket I felt better. Something about staying in the condo was enough to make me ill at ease.

  I couldn’t quite put my finger on why – the place was amazing, a perfect bachelor pad.

  I pulled off my gray V-neck T-shirt on the way to the bedroom, giving my upper body a quick once-over in the mirror. My muscles were still sculpted and tight, without a damn drop of fat on them.

  But the whole mess with Da, not to mention the move, had thrown a bit of a wrench in my usual routine. The building had a gym, so I made a promise to hit it early the next morning before my first day at the clinic.

  I put on a crisp, white dress shirt, along with some dark blue slacks and almond-colored wingtip shoes. Once I was satisfied with how I looked in the mirror, I grabbed my wallet and keys and headed out.

  The evening was crisp and cool, a slight wind blowing as I made my way down the streets of Denver.

  In the midst of all the chaos, the strangest damn thing happened as I walked.

  A face appeared in my mind – the face of a woman I hadn’t seen in years.

  Kenna.

  It was the damnedest thing.

  I hadn’t seen her since our one night together. But something about her, something about our night, had managed to burn itself into my mind in a way I couldn’t ignore.

  And this wasn’t the first time I’d found myself thinking about her. Every now and then, out of the damn blue, Kenna’s face would appear.

  Oddly enough, it happened to be when life was throwing me the most punches. Her memory brought me back to a place of peace and serenity.

  I’d imagine the way she looked across the bar when I’d first noticed her, or the gorgeous wincing of her heavenly features as I brought her to orgasm again and again.

  And, without fail, the sweet scent of vanilla reminded me of her.

  Every time it hit my nostrils I was back in between the sheets with Kenna.

  Her memory haunted me in a sexy, unforgettable lass from the past kind of way.

  Her memory repeated itself enough times that it made a permanent dent in my brain.

  Not a single girl had stuck with me the way Kenna had.

  Me on the other hand - I was undoubtedly stored away in the files of her memory. Kenna was a smart and driven girl.

  She was going places. Hopefully though, not into the arms of another man.

  None of your damn business, boy. I chided myself. Oddly enough it was in my father’s voice.

  I needed to get the man out of my head.

  The Dorset was only a few blocks away, as Duncan had said, so it didn’t take me long at all to arrive. The front was all glass, giving me a good view of the trendy steakhouse’s sleek, modern interior.

  I spotted Duncan at the bar and headed inside. He waved me down as I approached, hopping out of his seat and greeting me with a hearty handshake.

  “The Iris
hman himself!” he said, flashing me a grin of white teeth.

  “The yank himself!” I replied.

  Duncan Pitt shook my hand as firmly as I’d expect from the man in charge of one of the largest medical operations in the country.

  “Sit your ass down,” he said as I took off my coat. “Let’s get some whiskey in you.”

  “Now,” I said, unable to resist. “You’re thinking just because I’m Irish that I’m gonna want some whiskey straightaway?”

  He gave me a “come on now” glance as he flagged down the bartender. “If my memory serves me well, the last time you were in town you put it away like it was Gatorade and you’d just finished a marathon.”

  I laughed. “Fair enough, fair enough. And I, ah, may have beaten you to it on the drinking.”

  “Ha, then let’s keep a good thing rolling.”

  The bartender approached, waiting for our orders. “Bushmills?”

  “Nah – that’s northern whiskey. I’m a Jameson man, through and through.”

  “Make it two.”

  The bartender nodded, appeared moments later with two glasses. He gave us a couple of stiff fingers, and with a ‘slainte’, we tossed back the first round.

  “Now,” Duncan said. “There’s—” He didn’t get a chance to finish as he spotted someone over my shoulder. “There’s the man I’ve been waiting for.”

  He rose, and I did the same. Another man approached, this one just as tall and broad-shouldered as Duncan, both with the same winning smile, both wearing gold wedding bands. The two men approached one another and shared a quick, back-slapping hug. Then the second man turned to me.

  “You must be the famous Dr. Davenport,” I said as we shook hands. “Finn O’Connor. Pleased as hell to meet you.”

  “Gavin Davenport, likewise. And I speak for the rest of the staff at the clinic – they’re all eager to meet the new doc.”

  “Let’s hope I live up to the hype.”

  Duncan gestured to the bar, and we sat down and got into dinner. Within minutes, the steaks were ordered, and fresh whiskeys were poured. Duncan and Gavin chatted about their wives, Annie and Gia respectively, along with some of the latest goings on with their wee ones.