I’ll Get You Lucky For My Birthday

It’s my birthday and I’m celebrating with a free story for you!

Have you read my FREE Birthday Luck story?

The sexy leprechaun from Gettin’ Lucky is back in this three alarm chili short that will steam up your phone, then turn tooth-achingly adorable.

While folding laundry, Jess gets a steamy surprise from her sexy Leprechaun. Conall’s back, the gorgeous red-headed Irishman with a big secret. This birthday story is hot, adorable, and heart-warming. Perfect for anyone looking for a quickie or a check-in with their favorite Leprechaun couple, Conall & Jess.

Spoilers for Gettin’ Lucky, a free novella, are contained within.

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“I didn’t think you’d make it,” I said, trying to turn my head to kiss him. But Conall remained obstinately clinging just behind me.

His hands rolled higher above my stomach, ransacking the nightshirt I didn’t have time to change out of. As his fingers swept up between my breasts, he tucked his hips tighter to my ass. “And miss out on this most important day? Luck was with me.”

I laughed at how seriously he said that. “Of course it was. It’s always with you.”

“Mmm,” he moaned, pressing both of his palms under my breasts and lifting the full weight higher. I gasped from how gently he stroked my nipples, a fire stewing inside me. His chin planted against my shoulder and he breathed in my ear. “Would you like to have a little luck inside you, beautiful…” He tugged on the edge of my nightshirt, yanking it past my shoulder so he could kiss the exposed skin. “Divine.” His right hand swept over my ass to tug the laundry day panties tighter against my soaked lips. “Washerwoman.”

Conall’s hips jerked forward, grinding his cock between my buttocks while he began to lift my nightshirt higher. “Here I am,” he whispered, his teeth pressing against my ear and nipping down the shell, “a rakish lord out for his daily ride, succumb by the beauty of this country lass scrubbin’ her stockings by the stream.”

His tugging on my clothing grew frantic and haphazard as if he forgot how a simple t-shirt worked. Drawing one hand up my thigh, he pressed barely a touch with his nails, circling inward to my parting legs. With his thumb, he tugged on the seam of my underwear while nuzzling the hollow below my ear. A low grunt of need from him shook through me and I turned.

The usually wild red hair was tamed and brushed to the side leaving him looking as if he’d just taken off his top hat. Only the edge of my eyes caught his suit, double-breasted with buttons of a shiny gold I knew were real. The rest of me was too busy locking my arms around him and devouring his lips. In an instant, the smell of Ireland overtook me. Of cliffs overlooking a sea, the salt spray striking against a rainy drizzle. Or a woman by a babbling brook slapping her wash against the rocks while a rogue looked on from atop his steed.

“I’ve never been with a Lord before,” I said, panting in his ear. I clung tight to his cravat, holding the hard body closer until my breasts pooled against his muscles. Until his thighs, hidden behind silk and wool, knocked into mine. Until the hard cock, eager and willing, pressed against my belly.

Conall chuckled, his hungry hands calmed as they pulled out the sticks in my bun. Slowly, he let my dark brown hair out, combing it as if he was preparing a golden fleece. “Then,” he said, his eyes flashing, “I shall be gentle, my bonny lass.”

My nightshirt flew over my head, the cute kitty design wadding up in the fabric as it hit the ground. With one hand wrapped around my waist, his lips plunging to mine, he leaned over and shoved the laundry to the floor. I glanced over, watching all my hard work fall, when Conall heaved me onto the bed.

Naked, save the old panties, I stared up at the man fully dressed for a night at the opera in the nineteenth century. A blush started at my knees and kept rising from how he stared at me. “I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage, my Lord.”

“Hardly,” he chuckled, tugging out the strip of silk around his throat. As it slipped free, revealing a hint of the red chest hair below, I clung to my knees. Conall shrugged off his coat jacket and began to undo the cuffs with a pair of gold shamrock links. All the while, I sat between his powerful legs, staring up at the man slowly disrobing with cold confidence.

Leaning forward, his lips stopping a breath from mine, he said, “For all my wealth, my reach, my power and influence…” With a single finger, he twisted his touch down my cheek, my jaw, and to my collarbone. “I am meaningless without you.”

“Me?” I squeaked, the certainty in his voice setting off a shiver across my skin…and a typhoon in my panties. “But I…I’m just a simple little washerwoman.”

Conall picked up my left hand and placed the knuckles to his lips. Instead of chastely kissing them, he drew his teeth down my fingers one by one, then lapped his tongue around each joint. “A simple washerwoman who commands me. Who owns me, heart and soul.”

He dropped my hand to his chest, my palm resting over his heart. I felt the steady beat, my own racing to match it, to remember that cadence it hadn’t known in days. Without pause, I began to undo the buttons on his vest, aching to feel his skin wrapped with mine. His lips nuzzled against my neck, trailed across my décolletage, and started to dip down my breasts. I didn’t bother to tug his vest off, to continue to the shirt. I reached straight for his pants.

“Wait!” he suddenly called, holding my wrist and lifting me from his cock. “You must agree first.”

“Agree?” I repeated, so confused the game slipped. I tried to shake off my modern tongue. “To what, my Lord?”

“To being my wife.”

An edge lingered in his voice, the man as serious as a sunrise. I began to glance at the picture frame on the dresser which already gave him his answer. But I stopped, took in the brooding rake before me about to fall to his knees and beg. “A thousand times yes,” I said.

“Good.” Conall smirked, stripping away his vest and tossing the shirt. He climbed onto the bed, sending me scurrying back to keep up with him. All the while, his piercing eyes of purest green burned into me. “All I’ve wanted morning, noon and night, crossing the world and seas…” He dipped down, his body creating a pocket in the mattress for me to fall into. A growl rumbled in his brogue. “…was to fuck my wife.”