Luck of the Irish Read online

  Luck of the Irish

  K. G. MacGregor

  Bella Books (2012)

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  Tags: short story, Retail, Lesbian

  short storyttt Retailttt Lesbianttt

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  (20,944 words)

  If not for bad luck, Abigail and Jackie wouldn’t have any luck at all. Abigail is a realist: the rent, the cars, the animals all cost money that they can’t afford with their low-paying jobs. Jackie’s the optimist with a big heart and a soft spot for hard-luck cases. Empty promises and empty wallets plague the young couple while they learn that sometimes you have to make your own luck.

  Copyright © 2012 by KG MacGregor

  eBook released 2012

  Bella Books

  P.O. Box 10543

  Tallahassee, FL 32302

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE

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  Luck of the Irish

  “This might just be the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.” Jackie studied the lines and shadows that danced upon the intimate playground. “You’re glowing like the embers in the fireplace…I always said you were hot…but right this second, you’re on fire.”

  Abigail strained in a futile effort to sit up, sucking in a breath through clenched teeth. “You’re killing me.”

  Jackie leaned back on her heels to get a better view of what she was doing. “I bet I could roast marshmallows down here. Do you think you could last long enough for me to do that?”

  Abigail grunted and squirmed.

  “Or do you think we ought to put this fire out before somebody gets burned? I wouldn’t want to have to call nine-one-one and have them bust in here and ruin our little birthday party.” Jackie inserted the tip of the twisted acrylic phallus and gently twirled the plastic handle in her hand, smiling as the bright red filament at the center of the device slowly disappeared. “Going…going…gone.”

  “Oh, God.”

  “I wish I could peek in there…and see you all lit up inside.”

  Abigail tried to relax her hips to take the toy in deeper.

  “What? You don’t want it in there?” She slowly withdrew the probe until the red light once again colored the inside of Abigail’s thighs. “Oooo…now it’s all hot again, lit up nice and red. Let’s put the fire out”—in—“and light it up again”—out—“and put it out”—in—“and light it up”—out.

  “Oh, God.”

  “Happy birthday to you,” Jackie crooned.

  “Happy birthday to me,” Abigail groaned in reply, driving her hips forward to match the rhythm of Jackie’s strokes.

  “I have another present for you, but I’m not sure you can handle it.”

  “It can’t be better than this present,” Abigail panted.

  “Oh, but it is.” Jackie dipped her face forward, allowing her wavy blond hair to tickle Abigail’s stomach. She dragged her tongue across the savory slit, which climbed to the ceiling with each upward thrust of Abigail’s hips. “But I’d never forgive myself if I blew your head off with too much of a good thing. How would I explain that to the paramedics?”

  “The smile on my face would say it all.”

  “We’d be the talk of Sumter for sure.” With a flick of her thumb, she activated the bullet that caused the Bumble Beam to vibrate deep inside Abigail’s smoldering tunnel. When she drew it out, the buzz grew louder and the red light glowed brighter; the reverse stroke dulled the sound as it dimmed the light. The effect was a spectacular light and sound show, topped only by Abigail’s grinding and groaning. “Happy birthday, dear Abigail.”

  “Oh…oh…happy birthday…to meeeeeeee!”

  Jackie added her thumb to the action, gently massaging the clit until Abigail cried out and collapsed onto the bed, her eyes closed and her mouth agape. Then she turned off the device and withdrew it completely, lowering her head one more time to plant a kiss on the smooth skin beside the blond mound of pubic hair. “I couldn’t tell for sure, but I believe you liked that.”

  “If we do that again, I may not live to be twenty-eight.” Abigail still hadn’t caught her breath. “Let me see that.”

  Jackie handed her the toy and smiled with satisfaction. “It’s called the Bumble Beam. Can you guess why?”

  Abigail examined her birthday gift, playing with the button to turn on the light and vibration. “You done good, Jackie. I think we have a new best friend.”

  “It came last week while you were over at Rosemary’s. If Joe Dean had any idea what kind of stuff came in those little brown boxes, no telling what he’d do.”

  “He’d probably have to go to church every night for a week.”

  “I’m sure we aren’t the only ones in Sumter getting packages from TheraToys. He’s probably seen it all.” Jackie took the toy and set it on the nightstand. “So has it been a nice birthday?”

  “The best. But it’s not over, lady. I don’t believe you’ve given me my other present.”

  “Now what could that be?” Jackie was pretty sure she knew, but she loved it when Abigail asked for what she wanted.

  “How much did you enjoy the Bumble Beam?” Abigail stretched her arm toward Jackie’s center and swiped a finger through the slickness. “Just as I thought.”

  “Watching you come gets me every time.”

  “I think you’re going to have to let me taste that.” Abigail scooted down a few inches and fluffed up the pillow beneath her neck.

  Jackie leaned over to deliver a deep kiss. “I love you, you know. I don’t care how old you get.”

  “I’ll always be younger than you.”

  “I’ll make sure Beth saves you a spot in the nursing home.”

  “I’m saving you a spot right here at the end of my tongue.” Abigail gestured for Jackie to straddle her.

  Jackie crawled up the bed on her knees, grasping the headboard as she lowered herself to Abigail’s waiting lips. “Is this what you want?”

  “Mmmmm,” Abigail mumbled. She snaked her hands beneath Jackie’s thighs to cup her bottom, squeezing the cheeks as she pulled them toward her face in rhythm.

  Jackie smiled to herself as she noted the position of Abigail’s left hand—directly over the heart-shaped tattoo that bore her name in the center. Abigail had protested the tattoo at first. They had been together only a year at the time and she couldn’t believe that Jackie had done something so permanent without even talking to her about it. But her fascination with seeing her name on Jackie’s butt was unmistakable, no matter what she said.

  Closing her eyes, Jackie gave in to the feel of Abigail’s eager tongue working her center. She wouldn’t last long, especially if—“Oh, yeah!” Three fingers filled her and she ground her hips downward to pull them in. After just a few thrusts, she was teetering on the edge. “Ready or not…here I come!” She gripped the headboard tightly to support herself as she climaxed, barely mindful that suffocating her lover with her vulva would be a regrettable end to their birthday celebration…and also difficult to explain to the paramedics.

  Abigail delivered noisy wet kisses to the insides of Jackie’s thighs as she pulled away. “Now my birthday is complete. I got everything I wanted.”

  Jackie settled beside her and nuzzled her neck. “And I have everything I want every day.”

  Their afterglow was cut short by the sound of scratching at the bedroom door.

  “That’s so creepy,” Abigail said. “It’s like they know the moment we finish.”

  “I thi
nk it’s just Wally that knows. Then he calls a meeting and makes an announcement.” Jackie got up and started for the door.

  “Wait! Remember what happened to the Hot Rod.”

  “Oh, yeah.” Jackie paused to drop the Bumble Beam in the drawer of the nightstand before opening the door to the four waiting dogs. “Not in my spot!”

  “Too late.” Abigail pulled the covers over her face as the dogs bounded onto the bed, greeting her as though she had been gone for days.

  “Go on. Get down to the foot of the bed.”

  The two beagles, Mo and Molly, complied, but not Wally. A sizable shepherd mix with floppy ears, he staked his claim to Jackie’s space, even dropping his head on her pillow. Sweet Pea, a black and white puffball of questionable breeding, waited quivering by the bed for Jackie to lift her.

  “Come on, Sweet Pea. You’re the only one that doesn’t hog the bed.” She placed her in her favorite spot between their pillows. “Wally, down.”

  The mutt’s only response was a grunt.

  “I get to sleep next to Abigail,” she said sharply, pointing to the rug.

  Reluctantly, the dog rose and jumped off the bed, taking up his position on the rug beside her. When Jackie stretched out into her spot, she draped an arm off the bed to scratch his belly until he rolled onto his side.

  With the dogs finally settled, the cat parade began. Three felines slinked into the bedroom to take up their watch for the night. Tao, tan and black with Burmese features, perched atop the desk on Abigail’s side, ready to pounce should a toe move beneath the blanket. Mango, a big orange tabby, settled at Abigail’s feet opposite the beagles, while Clementine, a one-eyed Persian with long white hair, curled up near Abigail’s head, resting her paws on the pillow.

  “Happy birthday, Abigail. I love you.”

  “I love you too, Jackie.”

  “Sleep well. You too, Mo…and Molly…and Wally…and Sweet Pea…and Tao…and Clementine…and Mango.”

  “And John Boy…and Mary Ellen…”

  ***

  Abigail stretched out to silence the alarm. Five thirty came too early most days, thanks to the nocturnal escapades of the animals that lined their bed. She had awakened last night no fewer than a half dozen times to push the beagles over toward Jackie’s side, and once to pry Tao’s claws from her foot. As always, Jackie slept through the commotion, impervious to the nightly critter shuffling.

  “Out.” That was the magic word for all seven animals. For the dogs, it meant their release into the fenced-in backyard. For the cats, it meant getting rid of the dogs long enough to eat in peace.

  Abigail stumbled to the back door and opened it, coaxing the timid Sweet Pea to follow the others outside into the cold morning air. Then she continued to the kitchen, where the three felines began singing for their breakfast. She collected their bowls from the counter, shaking her head. “I’m going to start feeding Jackie on the floor with the rest of you. Maybe then she’ll take a hint.”

  She filled their bowls and set them in three corners of the kitchen floor. Next was her own bowl, from which she plucked a stray cat hair before pouring it full of cereal. She leaned against the counter and ate as the coffee ran through the automatic drip.

  Mango finished breakfast first and twined through her legs to brush his coat.

  “You do that just to irritate me, don’t you, furball? You know I don’t like cats.” Despite her words, she set her cereal bowl on the counter and stooped to scratch under his chin. He twisted his head all around to satisfy his itch. “Especially cats that pin me to the bed so I can’t move. If I liked you, you probably wouldn’t do that.”

  Mango followed her into the small bathroom and waited patiently for her to finish her shower so he could lick the tub from top to bottom. His morning routine complete, he then climbed to the highest part of the couch and settled in his favorite spot, a cat-shaped indentation lined with layers of his orange fur.

  Abigail blew dry her short, curly black hair and tiptoed back into the bedroom to get dressed. It was hard sometimes not to be irrationally jealous of Jackie, who slept each day until seven. By that time, Abigail would be sewing labels in Tshirts down at the textile plant. It was a job she had held for six years, ever since high school graduation. One of these days—if she ever got through the program at Sumter Community College—she wanted to work in a radiology clinic. The career counselor made it sound like a job she’d really like, and the money was twice what she made at the plant.

  “Hey, sweetie.” She sat on the edge of the bed and pulled back Jackie’s hair so she could nuzzle her ear. “I gotta go.”

  “Where’s my kiss?” Jackie turned slightly and presented her puckered lips.

  Abigail delivered smooches to both the lips and forehead. “The dogs are out. You want me to let Sweet Pea back in?” The smallest dog seemed to crave more individual attention, but was too shy to assert herself.

  “Yeah,” Jackie mumbled as she burrowed back into the blankets.

  Abigail grabbed her hooded sweatshirt and pulled it over her head. “I’ll call you later. I have to pick up AJ this afternoon. You want to meet us for dinner?” It wasn’t necessary to spell out the details—Leon’s, where Abigail’s mother worked, was the only place they ever went when they ate out.

  “’Kay.”

  As expected, the little dog was waiting to be rescued on the top step, shivering against the cold February frost. Abigail scooped her up with one hand before the others could rush the door and sent her down the hall toward the bedroom, where she would whimper until Jackie helped her back into bed.

  Abigail’s car, a thirteen-year-old faded red Ford Escort with over a hundred and forty thousand miles, was parked behind Jackie’s equally ancient black Chevy Silverado pickup. The Escort hated mornings like this, but its run of late had been good—it had started every day this week.

  Click.

  “Shit.”

  Click…rat-tat-tat-tat-tat.

  “Damn it!” She got out and slammed the door.

  The dogs gathered at the fence on the side yard so they could observe the commotion. As she stomped toward the house, they began to bark.

  “Shush!” They had no close neighbors on either side, but Abigail wasn’t in the mood to hear their ruckus. All she wanted was to get to work on time. Howard docked her a whole half-hour when she was ten minutes late.

  “Jackie?” she shouted from the kitchen. “Jackie, I need another jump.” She reached the bedroom, where Sweet Pea was curled up beside the still-slumbering figure. “Jackie, I need you to get up and give me a jump.”

  The long form under the blanket shifted and groaned.

  “Please, honey. I’m going to be late.” She pulled back the covers, a cruel but effective technique for waking her naked lover.

  “I’m up, I’m up.” Jackie reached for her jeans and pulled them on, not bothering with her cotton thong.

  “Here,” Abigail said, handing her a long-sleeved T-shirt. “It’s cold out. You’ll need your jacket too.”

  Jackie shoved her feet into her sneakers and hurriedly tied the laces. “We’ll have to push your car back so I can turn around.”

  “I know. You’d think we’d be smart enough by this time to back the truck in.”

  “You mean I would be smart enough.”

  Abigail shrugged. “Yeah, I guess that’s what I mean.” She returned to the kitchen, where she waited while Jackie went to the bathroom. “Come on, Jackie!”

  “I’m coming!” she said, still zipping her pants as she finally headed for the door. “I can’t believe you’d begrudge me a simple pee,” she said, her voice showing obvious irritation at Abigail’s impatience.

  “I could do this by myself if you had just backed into the carport.”

  “I heard you the first time.”

  Abigail got back in her car, now adding her guilt to all of the other annoyances of the morning. It wasn’t Jackie’s fault her car wouldn’t start. It was the fact that new batteries cost eight
y bucks, money they didn’t have lying around. They had a savings account of almost eight thousand dollars—started three years ago as their down payment on a house—but had made a pact not to touch it, even for emergencies.

  Jackie supplied the push as Abigail steered the car back in neutral. When they were far enough, Abigail released her hood and got out again to wait. Jackie was already in her truck, backing out and turning in the yard so her battery would reach that of the Escort.

  “I’m sorry I snapped at you,” Abigail said as they attached the jumper cables.

  Jackie shot her an undeserved grin. “It’s okay. I know how grumpy you are in the morning.”

  “Especially cold mornings.”

  “Maybe I can run and get you a new battery this weekend. Today’s payday, you know.”

  “You’re good to me, sweetie.”

  “I have to be. Nobody else would put up with my zoo.”

  There was probably a lot of truth to that statement, Abigail thought. Jackie Miller was a lot of things—sweet, generous, incredibly sexy—but her penchant for collecting pets was sometimes a test of their devotion.

  “Okay, give it a crank.”

  Abigail got in and started her car on the first try. She revved the engine as Jackie disconnected the cables. With her door still open, she leaned out. “Thanks, baby. I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  “Sorry I had to get you up.”

  “It’s okay. The dogs will be happy.”

  “See you at dinner.” She closed the door and backed out, waving one last time before she headed off to work.

  ***

  “You sure are a pretty one, Danny Boy.” Jackie brushed the Irish setter’s silky red coat until it shone. She made it her personal mission to present each animal at the shelter in its best possible light. She bathed them, brushed them, and from the moment they arrived, sweet-talked and played with them to improve their dispositions. She felt a personal triumph each time one of her charges found a new home.

  But sometimes, nothing she did was enough. The too-scruffy hounds and the skinny cats with attitude were hard to place, but Jackie had learned to console herself with knowing their last days were good ones. These animals would leave the earth looking their best, and all of them would know a loving, human touch.