Lucky This Isn't Real: MacBride Brothers Series St. Patrick's Day Fake Fiance Romance by Jamie Knight (good books to read for beginners txt) 📗

know that much. He was just too shocked and sad to argue. That and he didn’t want to cause a scene. I didn’t like it when he argued, but his behavior now was even worse.

I’d gotten out of marrying Harry but wasn’t sure the cost of having to hold up a beautiful lie was much better than an awful truth. I couldn’t really bring myself to be angry with Sean. He was trying to save me and was acting fast to avoid disaster. We were just going to have to deal with the fallout.

Chapter Fourteen - Sean

The truth could be flexible. A lesson I’d learned early on from my father, who I would never call a liar, but seemed to have a very loose grasp on reality, including and especially in terms of his own actions. Every pronouncement of getting clean was absolutely truthful at the time of utterance. A year and five months clean was his standing record. Then something would happen, a switch would flip, and he would tumble off the wagon.

Gavin certainly seemed to have picked up this talent for momentary sincerity and channeled it to his acting career. I’d never really thought I had, right up until I walked towards Darcy’s dad with a glass in my hand. No idea of what I was going to say, just that I had to say something.

It was both true and not. Calling Mr. Matthews ‘Garrison’ was a tactic to throw him off balance and strengthen the impression of familiarity. I wasn’t sure from where my speech had sprung. The words flew out of my mouth nearly as fast as I could think. They were so natural and sincere. And they were. I wanted to be with Darcy. I wanted us to be man and wife. There was no doubt in my mind she was the one for me.

Everything I said was true, the only real inaccuracy being that we were currently engaged. That was a fib. Though what I’d told her mother wasn’t. It had been a whirlwind romance, and we hadn’t told anyone.

Darcy wasn’t happy. Despite my best efforts to do good, she’d reprimanded me for my perceived dishonesty, which it technically was even if it didn’t feel like it at the time. Unfortunately, this was exactly why she’d thought I’d been lying. If I could say something she knew not to be true so convincingly, how could she trust anything I said? It seemed a bit harsh, but I could see where she was coming from.

The only thing that kept me sane was that I was positive she hadn’t meant to hurt me. More than likely, what she’d said was an unguarded expression which, in a way, was a good thing. She must have trusted me on some level to be able to do that. I was now on the receiving end of the silent treatment.

I was used to the silence, at least on my part. One of the few advantages to being the middle child. You get used to your own company, particularly while adulation is showered on the older siblings, and the youngest are smothered with love and attention.

Silence reigned as we left the garden party—nightfall still a few hours away. I wanted to comfort Darcy, hold her, and tell her everything would be okay. But I resisted the impulse. She was so upset, so she decided to leave her car and call a taxi.

“Come on,” she said as the cab pulled up.

With only a beat of hesitation, I got into the back seat with her, minding my distance as I sat down. I didn’t want to touch her, even by accident, if she didn’t want me to. A gap she bridged herself by taking my hand.

“Want to come up?” she asked as we stopped outside her apartment building. “We have to talk.”

My hesitance was brief but meaningful. I didn’t want to take advantage of her, but she seemed to know what she was doing. Besides which, I didn’t want to waste a second of the brief time we had left together.

I still wasn’t sure of her intentions. Options ran riot through my head on the elevator ride. She might have wanted to have a drink, talk, and nothing more, which was fine with me. At least she would be talking to me again, even if the subject was somewhat unpleasant at first.

Our time was too precious to waste to throw away by being mad. It was best to clear the air.

No sooner were we through the door to her apartment than Darcy was on her way to the bed, stripping off her clothes as she went. I followed suit, completely naked by the time I reached her. She took me in her warm embrace, and we kissed as if we were both starved.

Darcy took the lead, and there was slight anger in her actions. Angry sex was often the best sex. Reaching down between us, she took a firm hold of my rock-hard cock. Her hand moving fluidly along the shaft as she slipped her tongue into my mouth. Slow and soft, we came back together, our spirits as entwined as our bodies. Pushing me onto my back, Darcy kissed her way down my body from my lips to my cock, planting a trail of soft, wet kisses along my neck, chest, and belly. She didn’t start sucking right away. Instead, she ran her tongue up the front of my shaft over the head and back down the other side before retracing the steps back down to my balls, giving each a brief session of sucking before repeating the process. It seemed to go on for hours, though it could have only been one. It seemed torturing me was a type of payback for my earlier behavior.

Eventually, on one of the trips back down to my balls, Darcy dropped her entire mouth over