Gettin' Lucky

Chapter Four

Waking to a pot of coffee boiling on the stove was a treat made all the more delectable by the man in nothing but his smile pouring it for me. While I wanted to stay, I had my job of making upper management look good to get to. And Conall had my window to fix.

Through the day I was giddy with anticipation of seeing the sexy Irishman again. Then reality cracked my rose-colored glasses. It was one night; he said he wouldn’t be around for long. Why should I expect anything more? Perhaps he’s on a tasting tour of America and here to take a sample of every woman from coast to coast.

The man’s looks and dashing accent would certainly help him achieve such a goal, but deep in my gut, I didn’t think him the scoundrel type. Or perhaps that’s just hope talking, and the rest of me not wanting to share.

It was with a weary, acid-burned heart I approached my home after work. I’d expected a construction crew to be outside, perhaps a large van advertising for windows, but it was just empty space for my car. At least there was no note on the door saying, “Good news Lass, got the window in and have moved on. Thanks for the fun.”

I shook my head at the thought, muttering under my breath, “Great, you’re already acting like a love-sick idiot.” Pushing open the door, I first heard the hiss of a cat angry at being locked in his carrier, then the whirr of a saw slicing through wood. I turned to my bedroom, my cat’s yellow eyes pleading with me to free him.

“Give me a sec, Tir,” I told him while pausing outside the bedroom. After slicking back my hair, I pulled my breasts up higher in my bra and waltzed into my own bedroom.

Inside, it looked as if the tree sneezed. Shards of wood sprayed clear across the room, all of it caught on tarps stretched out over the floor and bed. Piles of sawdust hovered near the frame…where the frame was. Now a man was running a sander over the surface, spraying more of the powdered wood into the air.

The green eyes behind a pair of plastic glasses darted up from the shredding sander to find me. As Conall shut off the ear-gouging power tool, I eyed him up. He was in that same rustic white shirt, this time the suspenders pulled up. Dark stains of mud and sweaty-sawdust coated his pecs and abs. The cap was off, more of the same mud, dark as rich earth, smeared in his red locks. Sweat glistened from his forehead and off the forearms exposed where he rolled his sleeves up to the elbows.

He was the hot handyman come to f**k the bored housewife right down to the handkerchief dangling off his belt. My mouth salivated at the thought of him bending me over, but I took a sad glance to my bed that was now a cemetery for 2x4s. 

“Evenin,’ Lass,” Conall called. He reached to tug off the glasses, smearing more mud across the plastic lenses. Where was he digging? Why had he been digging?

“You’re…you’re a mess,” I sputtered, crossing towards him over the battered carpentry disaster that I used to call a bedroom. He shrugged, his forearm smearing more mud and sweat over his forehead than taking it away. “And my room is…” I splayed my hands out over the giant mess that’d take a week to clean up.

Conall roughed at the patch of scruff over his chin and shrugged. “That wily one’s been proving trickier than expected. Had to buff out this frame here. No one makes windows to fit this old size. Like a dollhouse really,” he said while rubbing his hand over his work, the smile tugging on his lips but not reaching his eyes.

Praying I didn’t somehow have a splinter of wood pierce through my shoes, I walked towards the filthy Irishman in my bedroom. The hand holding the power tool hung limp, his eyes skimming over me as I paused before touching him. At first, he looked as if he was about to reach for me, to curl his hand over my hip and pull me in for a well-earned kiss. But he froze, his body leaning away and I faltered.

“How is there so much mud on you?” I stammered, trying to will away the drumbeat of failure in my heart. Of course he doesn’t want you now. He already had you before.

Conall grimaced, lifting a shoe to inspect the grime clinging to his souls. “All that rain this morn washed the snow away and…” He jerked his head out the hole in the wall. Muddy footprints were dug deep right below the window. Good thing he was her only nosy neighbor or someone might think he was a burglar trying to rob her.

“I,” he dropped the tool to the ground, shaking his head in disbelief, “I should leave you be before I make an even larger mess of your life.” The handy Irishman made a break for the door, darting around my body as his feet crinkled on the plastic tarps.

“Or,” my tongue spoke, causing him to pause before he fled from my life forever. Green eyes turned back to me, Conall’s eyebrow raising as he waited for me to continue my sentence. Too bad I had no idea what I wanted to say. 

Grime dripped down his pants, black mud buried under his nails, his bright hair dimmed by the dirt. It had to be uncomfortable to work in that mess. “You could clean up here,” my libido threw out without any input from my brain.

He could what?

“That’s not necessary…?” Conall’s nose crinkled, finding the idea as ludicrous as it was. He lived a house away, why would he need to use my shower?

“So you don’t track mud all over the floors in your house, the rented house, and lose your deposit. Or however it works,” I babbled, realizing I had no idea what it was like to rent someone else’s place for a weekend getaway. Unlucky people never won sudden windfalls of money or palatial suites to vacation in.

A hand curled to my cheek, surprising me as I hadn’t heard his steps crinkle the plastic. Eyes greener than summer burned into mine as his thumb caressed down my smile line. “Alright, Lass. You get your wish. Now, where should I wash my filthy body clean?”

His brogue wrapping around the word body instantly snapped up the memory from last night of Conall completely naked while walking across the room, climbing onto the bed, and straddling above me. I felt my cheeks burning even as I flexed my thighs together. “There,” I gestured wildly at the only other room in the tiny house, “there’s the bathroom. Use whatever towels you like. However you like.”

What the hell was I saying?

Conall either knew I was fully under his sway or wanted to be far from the babbling i***t. Tipping his head in a subtle bow, he said, “Thank you, kindly,” and slipped into the bathroom. As the door closed, I flung my back against the wall in the hallway and sighed.

Quick, Jess, act even more like an i***t with the handsome man. Why had it been easier to seduce him the night before? Maybe he did all the seducing and now that he had his fun he doesn’t want to bother. I snarled at the cruel half of my brain that adored taunting me, even if it was often right.

Pathetic meowing burned through my shame and I risked blood loss to free my cat. Tiry shot out of the cage like a bolt, his tail puffed up as he ran to inspect his house that’d been ransacked by strangers. “You hungry?” I asked my fat ball of fluff while already reaching for the can. Nothing but the best for my picky eater. Not that he wouldn’t only eat half then cry as if I was purposefully starving him in order to get more. 

As I finished yanking the aluminum cover off, I heard the shower start up. No doubt he was testing the water with his long fingers, letting each drop bead up in his giant palms. Would he sigh as the first warm wave washed down his body? Would it sound just like when he first thrust his c**k into me?

Paws whacked at my hand, Tir annoyed at my slow service. I blushed at my cat being inconvenienced due to my runaway imagination and dug the last crumbs of food out with a spoon. Once the meal was fit for my megalomaniac king, Tiramy dug in. 

So it was one night? Best s*x of my life kind of one night, where some stranger seemed to know my thoughts before I even had them. But still… No reason to get clingy. To think that there’d be more. Okay, my bed looked like the floor of a sawmill, but I did own a couch. He had to know that now. 

No chance of him offering another opportunity to sleep beside his body.

My nervous fingers fished at my phone, hoping to distract myself with anything to cover over the sound of water hitting a naked man. I unlocked it just as another noise thudded in my ears. It was the creak of twelve pounds of fur shoving open the broken latch on the bathroom door.

Shit!

“Tiry,” I shouted, racing down the hall. Just the twitch of his little black tail with the white tip rolled from between the crack as he oozed through. With a little whip of it, knowing he was up to no good, my cat snuck into the bathroom.

I froze outside the private refuge, my eyes darting through the slot in the door to catch the mirror over the sink. A shadow danced through the steam, Conall’s naked body vigorously rubbing the mud off itself. And there, slinking in like the thief he was, padded my cat.

“Tiramy!” I snarled, dropping to my knees. Pushing the door open a little further, I wedged my head in to spy my cat sniffing at the fallen clothing. The underwear, in particular, held a fascination for him. God, it’d be my luck that the second I went to grab my cat, Conall would come out of the shower to find the strange woman pawing at his boxers.

Yellow eyes drifted away from the deep sniff of the cotton wonders and I snapped my fingers. “Get your butt out of there!”

The showering shadow paused and I winced lower. Please don’t see me. Please don’t look. My emperor in a fur coat glanced from me to the closed shower curtain. I scrabbled closer on my hands and knees, hoping to swipe at the damn cat’s scruff and yank him out.

My fingers parted through the air, nearly snagging him, when Tiramy’s curious eyes caught the water tumbling from the magic fountain. Without a second thought, my cat bounded up the wall. s**t!

“Tirany-Sue!” I hissed in a whisper at the damn cat landing upon the edge of the shower’s top bar. “No. Don’t you dare!”

The unimpressed eyes of ancient royalty glared in mine and without breaking, he dipped his paw into the stream of water and pulled it back to his mouth. 

“Damn you, you stupid…” I began while skittering over the piles of muddy clothes to grab my cat before the worst came to pass. Tiramisu was drinking his full as usual, his paws growing slicker with each return. If I grabbed him quick I could dash out of there before Conall noticed.

Set in my path, I rose to my knees, and the shower curtain flew back.

The perfect body of an Irish god stood before me, his pale skin glistening with beads of clean water, his red hair darkened to auburn. My eyes took a quick lap of the entirety of him, noting that even the fiery hair around his c**k was calmed to a darker hue by the shower. And he was glaring at me.

“My…” I began when what I knew would happen did.

Tiramy shrieked as his paws slipped and twelve pounds of angry feline tumbled off the shower towards my gentleman visitor. I moved to reach out but it was Conall who caught the cat, cradling him like a baby in his arms. Even Tiramy seemed shocked by the turn of events, his eyes blinking in surprise as Conall chuckled.

“I was trying to stop him, my cat I mean,” I babbled. “He does that all the time. Sneaks in when I’m showering and — like an i***t — falls.”

“Is that so?” Conall said, but there was mirth in his voice, his eyes darting from the cat in his arms back to me.

“I didn’t want you to get, to get all scratched up, but you’ve…you’ve got good reflexes,” I admitted, sounding dumbfounded at his catch. And what was I still doing on the floor? The idea to rise drained from my brain as I stared up into his emerald eyes.

“A little luck can go a long way,” Conall said, an incomprehensible look tugging on his lips. It wasn’t a smile nor a smirk.

Oh, God. I finally had enough sense flood my brain for me to look away, my cheeks burning bright red. “If you just want to hand over the cat, I can…” I said as Tiramy finally realized he wasn’t going to get anymore free water. Twirling in Conall’s hands, my cat’s paws flailing through the air, he spun and moved to jump. Conall dipped down, shortening the distance my dumb cat always managed without a thought.

After landing on all his feet, Tiramy raised his tail high in the air and strutted out as if this was his plan all along. I watched him go before whipping back in fear that Conall’s beautiful body was decimated by cat scratches. But no, there wasn’t a single red scrape to his creamy-white skin. He’d avoided every one of Tiramy’s vengeful paws.

“You’re, you’re not hurt. Okay. That’s good. Glad my cat— I was worried he would, but he didn’t.” Stop talking, Jess. “I should go, go and…”

The hand that’d been cradling my cat cupped to his hip, Conall jutting it out as he stared down at me. “I must say, the sight of you on your hands and knees is a most delectable view.”

What? I whipped my sight away from my exit to watch as his c**k began a rapid ascent from its slumber. My entire body burned as I mentally drooled over its trembling twitches, the pulses seeming to grow stronger the longer he stared down at me. 

“That’s, that’s…” I swallowed down the foolish fear I was making a mistake and stared up into his eyes. “Rather presumptuous of you.”

“Oh?” Conall chuckled, his eyebrows rising as if he expected me to skitter away in disgrace.

“I mean,” I said rising to my feet. Trying to look graceful while getting off the bathroom tile because a gorgeous, naked man watched was not an easy feat. But once I felt I was on solid ground, I met him eye to nearly eye, placed a hand to my hip and said, “You haven’t even made me dinner this time.”

Those emerald eyes sparkled, his tongue licking his sharp canine tooth as he stared me up and down. I gave a quick glimpse of that c**k, still plumping to perfection as he watched me. “True,” Conall said with force. 

Even with the water running, he stepped out of my shower towards me. My breath caught in my throat as the scent of him filled the bathroom. It wasn’t from one of my soaps, or even a masculine fragrance. No, he smelled of the sea, of leather working in a craftsman’s hands, of a crackling bonfire, and of a man wild with lust.

His hot hand curled around my hip, dampening my pants in the process. Some forgotten corner of my brain wanted to be angry at that, but the rest watched his other hand land upon the first of my blouse’s buttons. Shower water bounced against the tile, steam rising in the room as Conall undid the first button. All the while, his green eyes burned in mine, his lips curled to the side as if he was waiting for me to call him off. 

Another pop and the top of my blouse separated as his fingers swerved down my cleavage. He fluttered his pinkie and index against the rising swell of my breasts, his tongue parting to lick his lip as he moved further down to undressing me. I swallowed deep, my bare toes clenching against the muddied tile while my periphery drifted over the naked man sternly undoing my shirt. 

His biceps, the ones that’d spent the day digging out a frame, were just on the edge of my vision. I flexed my palms, aching to worry the pads of my hands over his powerful muscles, but my hands remained limp at my sides. The last of my blouse’s buttons surrendered to the sexy Irishman and I raised my chin higher.

Rather than pull the shirt off, Conall smirked at my move and rounded to the button on my pants. I flew towards him, hands hungry for his dewy skin, lips aiming for that twisting smile. His ornery mouth softened to my lips, Conall’s tongue gliding inside to lap against mine. I crushed his hand as it hung to my waist, his right one slipping from my hip to knead against my asscheek. 

The thrum of his fingertips pulsing deeper into my crack caused me to grind against him, the water off of his body quickly seeping into my shirt and bra. All the while, he kept twisting his lone finger over my trouser’s button as if he could undo it on its own. I wrung my fingers along his back, folding the nails down and leaving scratches behind that caused his head to tip back in an exquisite whimper.

“Lass,” he sputtered, those emerald eyes locked tight as he gazed to the ceiling. “Do you know what you’re asking for?”

“Yes.” I snorted, fully aware of what my body grinding against a naked man’s led to. 

His hands broke from kneading my pants against my skin, both cupping my cheeks and pushing my fallen hair back. “Oh,” he whispered, his hot breath washing over my lips. Tipping my chin higher, he finished, “I pray that is so.”

As his lips plunged to mine in need, my pants fell to the floor. Conall tugged aside my panties, his magic fingers plunging deep inside. A gasp of shock erupted from my mouth into his, even as my body heat rose from his expert finger twirling. I stared up at the smirk rising where his soft lips had been.

Slipping out his fingers from inside of me, Conall worried my thigh and curled both of his hands to my ass. Without pause, he hoisted me into the air and began to walk backwards. “I dare say you do know what you want.” He chuckled, climbing over the lip of the tub with me extended in the air.

Hot water struck my shoulder, beaded against my skin, and dripped down the curve of my breasts. My blouse offered no resistance, quickly drenched in the shower and sticking to my body. Conall’s hands swept across me, his palm cupping my stomach, kneading my back, and worrying my shoulders while our tongues twirled together. 

Wetness coated my panties both inside and out, my thighs flexing tighter as his c**k pressed to my belly. Each thrust towards my belly button tugged his foreskin lower, the crown flaring as if it wanted inside of me without delay. But Conall didn’t reach to yank off my panties, or even my shirt and bra. He massaged my arms, slicked his nails down my chest, sucked on my neck while thrusting his hips into me. And still, he wouldn’t finish undressing me.

I stared down at the coin he wore even in the shower, the gold bounding into my breasts as the man paused to suck in air. Water beat against us both, Conall acting as an umbrella for me while the brunt struck his back. Steam swirled around us, turning our bodies into a hazy, almost dreamlike state while he stared in rapture at me. 

Reaching out, I caught the coin dangling above me. It weighed heavier than I expected. His heaving body locked in, the emerald eyes burning down to glare at my hand. Still, his hips pressed hard against mine, the bones knocking me up onto my tiptoes as if he was arguing with himself to push open my legs and thrust himself in.

I could help alleviate that problem at least.

Dropping the coin so it twisted in a pendulum swing, I swept my palm down his stomach. The red line of hair was beaded in water drops as if fairies kissed his abs, each dewdrop tumbling while I worked my way lower and lower. With a gentle swirl, I cupped my hand under his balls, holding them as I had his coin.

Conall crashed to the side, his lips sputtering in my ear, “Jaysus himself.” All the while, I cupped and rolled his sac, his balls safe in my grip as the Irishman cursed in that foreign tongue of his.

It was heady, to have so much power over this man who chopped down trees by hand. My ego pounding brighter in my chest, I dipped my other hand around his c**k and nestled it right at the base of his shaft. As one hand rotated his aching balls, the other jerked up his c**k. Conall groaned, his hips digging deeper into mine as he thrusted to match me.

His forehead rubbed against mine, his lips whispering incoherent pleas. I puckered up, taking a kiss from the begging mouth of my Irishman. The emerald eyes flared open, staring at me in surprise. His thrusting paused, his body stepping back.

“You are,” he said, his voice throaty. Coughing, he drew his hands down my arms until wrapping them around my wrists. Suddenly, he yanked both clear over my head. Surprise more than pain screamed up my shoulders, my eyes opening wide as the naked man in my shower leaned his body against mine.

His voice dropping to his balls, he breathed against my cheek, “You are addictive.” A single hand pinned both of my wrists together while the other yanked my panties aside. God! Two fingers plunged deep while his thumb vibrated against my c**t. I struggled to breathe, to swallow against the humid air as the water bounced around us. All the while, those impenetrable green eyes stared down at me, his grip inescapable.

Moans and whimpers crawled up my throat, the pressure rising fast inside me. I wanted to grind on him, to have him fill me, but I couldn’t move. Pleasure burned through my core, my thighs shaking at the stretch he had me under. Each stir of my c**t, each thrust of his fingers dragged me deeper under.

“What…?” I gasped, somehow dredging my voice from its fallen depths. Those wild eyes focused on me, Conall tipping his chin in surprise as he waited for me to continue. Swallowing, I met him eye to eye, and said, “What do you want?”

He laughed, his head shaking so water spun off his red hair. Once again his fingers left me wetter than how I began. My wrists plummeted to my sides, my entire core aching for more. It pleaded with me to leap on him, to grab his hand and guide it to the end I craved. But I waited, watching as Conall stared heavenward as if for guidance.

With eyes closed, he pulled in a breath that expanded his chest wide. The chain around his neck jangled, my eyes darting from the surprise sound to the man suddenly rushing forward. He pinned me with his forehead to the shower wall, his emerald eyes glowing like fire on the moors. Licking his tooth, Conall declared from deep in his chest, “You.”

Hands clamped to my thighs, Conall yanking me off my feet as my soaked back smeared up the wall. It was he who curled my legs around his hips, his teeth nibbling down the valley between my breasts while his c**k slid against my soaked panties. His palms pulsed into the bottom of my ass, fingers clenching with every thrust that bounded his crown against my aroused c**t.

“Tell me what you want,” Conall growled, torturing me with the temptation of him but a thin strip of cotton away. My hands pawed at his shoulders and gripped to his straining biceps as he opened his jaw. His teeth sunk into me, his hot tongue lapping in a pattern against my collar. Slowly, he worked higher, nipping and biting towards my shoulder. Every pinch set off another gasp from my panting throat. How much more could I take?

“Tell me what you wish,” he snarled. I flinched at the sudden flip in emotion when his hand swept under my bra band. The palm cupped my breast with such desperate kneading I bounced my head against the shower and tried to breathe. 

While his hungry fingers pinched my n****e, my mouth parted and I screamed loud enough to rattle the soaps, “You!” Conall’s maddening thrusting paused, his eyes burning in mine as I tried to focus. “I want you inside me.” My raw voice caught at the truth, my body begging for him. 

The smile that had vanished returned tenfold. Conall tugged aside my panties with his two fingers, the rest cradling my ass. Slowly, he guided his c**k to my entrance, the crown swerving around my lower lips to coat it in arousal. I shuddered at the waves of euphoria erupting from my core. “Your wish,” he whispered in my ear, his fingers pulling my thigh further to the side, “is my command.”

Fuck me! He thrusted inside, my body crying in pleasure at the fullness it’d been craving for what felt like hours. Those green eyes bore down upon me as Conall worked himself deeper inside. He didn’t want me to look away, to blink, but God it was so good. I clenched tighter to him, guiding and pulling his c**k to my g-spot. 

Conall cried out, the words incoherent to me. But his hips began to thrust. Each bounding of his body bounced my back against the shower, his right palm kneading over my breast while the left dug deeper into my ass. “God, God, God,” he cried, his soggy head shaking as I watched the stern man shred to pieces from my body.

Slipping from the trap of my soggy bra, both hands slapped to my buttocks and Conall began to lean back. Holy f**k! All breath kicked from my lungs as he thrust into the perfect spot. Yes! God. Just a little more. My panting was punctuated with pleading and prayers.

Please.

The sense of eyes on me caused me to open mine and I watched as Conall, with a bright smile on his handsome face, winked. In an instant, the cascade surged through my body. The sight of this gorgeous man charming me even as he was balls deep inside tipped the orgasm from luxurious quivering to maximum overdrive. A scream of pure delight slipped from my lips struggling to funnel in air, my body tightening to the source of the pleasure arcing through it.

My personal handyman smiled at the sight, and — as he leaned back even further — he gave more vigorous thrusts through my v****a pulsing and hugging his c**k. “Holy s**t,” he sputtered, his eyes locked tight as his face scrunched up and then opened into a smile of pure joy. 

Conall collapsed forward, his forehead bouncing against mine as we both were supported by the slick shower wall. His naked chest pressed to my saturated one. Every one of his breaths struggling from the marathon pinned me tighter in place. I moved to slide my legs down, but he clamped both hands to my thighs, keeping them in place.

I stared in confusion, but his eyes — my only hint into what he could be thinking — remained closed as he came to grips with his own orgasm. “That was…” He glided his hips away, pulling himself from me. My panties slid back into place. Conall pulled in another breath, and the full power of his emeralds beamed on me. “You sure do know how to welcome guests in your home.”

A laugh gurgled in my chest, my mind wanting to slip into the easy jocularity of the moment, but a nagging thought remained. What were we, exactly? I didn’t want to talk about exclusivity or anything of that nature, not while I was pinned to the still running shower. But I needed to know if there’d be more later. Preferably with both of us naked.

I drew my fingers along his chest hair, batting at the water droplets that hadn’t fallen from his exquisite thrusting. “You did seem to work hard today. I thought all that effort called for a little extra compensation.”

His lips pressed to my neck, Conall kissing the tender skin as he said, “I far prefer the celebrations of you…Americans to my home kin.”

The pause didn’t go unnoticed, but as he let my feet slip to the floor, Conall began to finally take off my soaked shirt. I laughed, turning in place. “Seems rather late for that now.”

“Thought you might want to dress in something dry,” he said while dangling my shirt and then bra over the shower beam and tipping back to finally shut it off.

Naked save my soaking panties, I placed a hand to my hip to ask, “Oh? Do you have big plans for me?”

His mouth popped open, his eyes darting away from my face. As he took in my naked breasts, a smile of satisfaction chased away the serious mood. “Yes. I do believe I owe you a dinner. My place?”

I leaned to him, my fingers ruffling over his touch of red scruff. After scraping against his chin, I whispered, “It’s a date,” and kissed him with the hope that there’d be much more to come.