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was more than ready for him to come without pulling out.

Being with him made my head spin. There were times when he would fuck me three or four times consecutively, with multiple orgasms each time. I was beginning to understand how people became sex addicts.

He was fast becoming my everything. Iā€™d even picked up a few Irish terms, which really only stood to reason since I spent most of my free time with Sean, Maggie, or Sean Maggie and Gavin.

ā€œI see Sean is rubbing off on you already,ā€ Maggie said with a laugh when sheā€™d caught me using ā€˜feck.ā€™

I tried to watch myself around the office. What was going on with Sean was, at least, partly an open secret. Gavin and Maggie knew, of course, and I figured Nicole had guessed, but I hadnā€™t actually told her yet. I just wanted to understand exactly what was going on before I really started telling people. Was I his girlfriend? Were we fuck buddies? ā€˜Soulmateā€™ really did seem like the best term. Most of the descriptors recognized and accepted by society seeming to fall short or not quite fit. Heā€™d certainly hinted at us being together when weā€™d seen the Ashtons at the restaurant, but that was probably just to put them off. I couldnā€™t be sure, though, but it felt real at the time.

ā€œHave to get to work,ā€ I said, trying to move.

ā€œNeed some help?ā€

ā€œPlease.ā€

I showered and dressed with Seanā€™s gentle assistance, my lovely man even making me breakfast before we headed out. It seemed only right I drive him back to Maggie and Gavinā€™s place. I didnā€™t want him to take the bus or pay for an Uber, not after the pleasure heā€™d given me, and it was on the way to the office anyway. It would literally take a minute to drop him off out front.

I was still buzzing when I got into the office. It wasnā€™t like last night was the first time weā€™d fucked. The last several days had been filled with the most wonderful sex, but each and every time took me to a new high.

The past week was one of only two we had together. If Iā€™d known about his arrival sooner, we could have had three weeks together, but I couldnā€™t dwell on that. I didnā€™t like to think about what would happen when he had to return to Belfast. Having him here was wonderful, and we were making the best of the time we had, but my true desire was to be his girlfriend, then his fiancĆ©e, and then his wife. Whatever the chemical that made women bond to their partner during sex was, I seemed to have more than usual. Despite my dedication to my career, I also wanted a committed, long-term relationship with him and only him. Things were getting complicated. Not that they werenā€™t to begin with.

One of the good things about work, at least for me, was that it focused my mind. Even the complexities of love, sex, and destiny werenā€™t enough to keep me from doing the best job possible in my chosen field.

During one such beavering session, while pouring over files to take notes and help lighten Nicoleā€™s load, an interesting fact came to light. A person involved in one of her current cases had lied about their birthday, making them a minor at the time, thus making all other events null and void.

I knew it was unprofessional, knocking on my bossā€™s door like a woodpecker on amphetamines, but I was just so excited I couldnā€™t contain myself.

ā€œCome in,ā€ came Nicoleā€™s confused response.

ā€œI think I have something,ā€ I said, trying to regain my professional composure.

It took her a minute to see it, but when she did, Nicole was undeniably pleased. Iā€™d never seen her smile so widely.

ā€œThis is perfect,ā€ she said.

ā€œI thought it was good.ā€

ā€œGood? Itā€™s excellent. There is no case. They will settle for sure and big. No way theyā€™ll want this coming out in court. It doesnā€™t look great that she lied, but, as you found out, she was a kid. The emphasis was on him. Even if he didnā€™t know, heā€™d look like a pervert as well as a crook. Great work, Darcy. The guys upstairs will be happy. Maybe theyā€™ll offer you a promotion.ā€

I did my best to be happy. I had the guy I was meant to be with, and I had made great progress at work. Anyone else would have been over the moon. Anyone who didnā€™t have parents who werenā€™t trying to marry them off to a business partnerā€™s son. I was dreading the garden party, which was less than twenty-four hours away, but there was no way around it. At least it would be easier to put on a fake smile with Sean by my side.

****

Gavin had loaned Sean a suit for the event. Heā€™d only brought the one, and the Ashtons would tear him a new one if they saw him in the same thing twice. They were just the kind of silver-spoon assholes to think that because they each had closets that stretched for half a city block, everyone else should, too. They harshly judged those who didnā€™t.

I didnā€™t think Iā€™d ever seen Mrs. Ashton smile at all except in the form of a sneer. No wonder their son had grown up to be such an insufferable snob. Not in the Jane Austen way either, where there was a good and romantic heart beating under Mr. Darcyā€™s exterior. Hell, Iā€™d even take Bronteā€™s Rochester over Harryā€™s self-important ass. At least he had a sense of humor. It felt funny comparing my own life to those of characters in 19th-century novels, but since both my parents and the Ashtons seemed stuck in that era, it seemed appropriate. They already had me set up for a marriage of alliance and going to garden parties. What was

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