Wild Irish Envy (Copperline #2)

  A story of chances lost, opportunities gained, and the fight for love through guilt ~ Shell

  Holy wow Sibylla is an amazing writer and this one was just fantastic ~ Clare

  The best Irish fella I've ever read ;) ~ Ruth

  Denny is a wanker......... However the more you read the more you realise he can be as smooth as a pint of Guinness ~ Odette

  Omg I do believe this one is my fav!! Oh how I love Denny!! ~ Sada

  This book was so well written between the Irish and English wording you are crying and laughing at the same time ~ Kim

  Denny is the best dang wanker in the history of wankers!! ~ Lisa

  © 2015, Sibylla Matilde

  Siby@SibyllaMatilde.com

  Cover photography: Sara Eirew Photographer

  Cover models: Stephanie Lambert and Rémi Desgagné

  ISBN: 1511412629

  ISBN-13: 978-1511412629

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from Sibylla Matilde.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. With the exception of the original material written by the author, all songs, song titles, and lyrics contained in this book are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.

  To Denny, thank you for being a wanker. And

  to my Pimp Shell who bagsied him.

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Epilogue

  Songs that inspired Wild Irish Envy

  Acknowledgements

  Other Novels by Siby

  About Siby

  Stalk Siby

  a good spit: (phr) not very far

  A-one: (phr) good job; well done

  arse: (n) backside; bum

  arseways: (a) messed up

  as sick as a small hospital: (phr) very ill

  barney dillons: (n) shillings; money

  bap: (n) bread bun

  bean-jacks: (n) ladies toilet

  bird: (n) girl generally; or girlfriend

  bits and bobs: (phr) an odd assortment of anything

  black pudding: (n) sausage made from blood, meat, fat, oatmeal, and bread or potato fillers

  bleedin’: (a) strengthening adjective; used liberally

  bloke: (n) man; male person

  bloody: (a) strengthening adjective; used liberally

  bog off: (phr) go away

  bollocks: (n) testicles; also used as an exclamation

  bolloxed: (a) very drunk

  boot: (n) trunk; cargo area of a car

  busker: (n) a street performer

  cacks: (n) underwear

  can’t be arsed: (phr) to be seriously lacking motivation

  car park: (n) parking lot

  cheesed off: (a) angry

  chubbed up: (phr) having an erection

  clink: (n) jail

  coddle: (n) a one-pot Irish dish commonly consisting of roughly sliced pork sausages and rashers with sliced potatoes and onions

  craic: (n) fun time and good conversation (pronounced ‘crack’)

  crisps: (n) potato chips

  culchie: (n) a city dweller’s name for a country person

  da: (n) father

  dodgy: (n) suspect

  dollybird: (n) a woman who is all dressed up to the nines

  donkey’s years: (n) a very; very long time

  dosser: (n) layabout; useless; lazy person

  d’yaknowhwatimeanlike: (phr) do you know what I mean?

  Dub: (n) someone from Dublin

  eejit: (n) idiot

  feck: (n) used instead of the other f-word

  feckin’ Jaysus: (phr) invocation of Christ’s name in an incredulous and unbelieving manner

  fella: (n) male person; also used for boyfriend, husband, partner

  fierce: (a) very

  fine thing: (n)

  fine bit of stuff: (n) admiring comment on member of opposite sex

  fluthered: (a) drunk

  footie: (n) football (i.e., soccer)

  fuckhead: (n) derisory term denoting a total feckin’ gobshite, moron, or other malodious form scum

  get up on a stiff breeze: (phr) easily aroused

  give her the business: (phr) have sexual intercourse with

  gob: (n) mouth

  gobshite: (n) idiot; exclamation of disapproval at anyone or anything

  gobsmacked: (a) very surprised

  gossún: (n) child

  grand day for the ducks: (phr) pissing rain

  he’d shag a crack in a plate: (phr) will feck damn near anyone

  hi: can come at the beginning or the end of any sentence; really has no meaning whatsoever hi!

  hoor: (n) woman of loose morals

  hooring: (v) being slutty and sleeping around

  howya: greeting

  horse it in: (phr) to sexually ravage

  jacks: (n) toilet

  Jaysus: (phr) Jesus; common expression of disbelief or despair

  Jaysus bleedin’ ting: (phr) some infernal source of consternation that causes untold grief

  johnny: (n) condom

  knackered: (v) very tired

  knickers: (n) ladies’ underwear

  knockers: (n) breasts

  knocking knickers: (phr) having sex

  lift: (n) elevator

  loo: (n) toilet

  lorry: (n) a truck, especially a large one

  ma: (n) mother

  manky: (a) filthy dirty

  nob: (n) penis

  not worth a shite to me: (phr) used when someone offers you something which is of no practical value

  off his face: (phr) very drunk or high

  off your nut: (phr) crazy

  Pasty: (n) a large, round patéd pie eaten in Northern Ireland… and Butte

  peeler: (n) policeman

  put a Santa hat on it and call it Randal: (phr) messed up; crazy; beyond understanding

  posh: (a) high class

  rashers: (n) pieces of bacon

  relax the cacks: (phr) calm down

  ride: (n) an attractive person or (v) to have sex

  right: (a) very

  rock on: (n) erection

  savage: (a) very severe or excellent

  savage ride: (n) great sex

  scarlet: (a) blushing

  scrubber: (n) female of low morals

  shades: (n) police

  shag: (v) have sex

  shaggin’: (a) the act of having intercourse

  shite: (n) shit

  shlossed: (a) very drunk

  shopping trolley: (n) shopping cart

 
; slagging: (v) teasing or making fun of someone

  slán: goodbye

  snapper: (n) child

  snog: (n) kiss

  sod: (n) chap; fellow

  sod off: (n) leave

  spiteful ride: (n) hard rough sex

  stocious: (a) drunk as a lord

  Taytos: (n) crisps (i.e., potato chips); brand name, but most refer to crisps as Taytos

  throwing a feckin’ moody: (phr) getting upset and angry

  toke: (n) a drag of marijuana

  tosser: (n) wanker

  wank: (n) to masterbate

  wanker: (n) an uninteresting person; usually someone you can’t stand

  what in the Jaysus?: (phr) exclamation

  whatcha goin’ mad for?: (phr) used to irritate someone who is getting angry

  would ya ever just feck off?: (phr) go away and leave me alone

  young wan: (n) a young woman

  you’re grand: (phr) a term to tell someone no or that you are fine

  May, four years ago

  She stood there in the faint haze of dusk. Staring out the window, over the fields before her and the mountains that lined the horizon. Off to the west, the setting sun cast a breathtaking purple-pink glow across her features, lighting the tear tracks down her cheeks.

  I knew I was the last person who should offer her comfort. She was Trent’s girlfriend. Never mind that I saw her first. Never mind that she had once smiled at me and I saw a bit of peace. That I had wanted her before he even knew her.

  I had just never told him that. Or her.

  “Fliss?” I softly said, and she sniffed and quickly wiped her eyes, not looking over at me, but instead dropping her face down and away. Inhaling a steadying breath and straightening a bit, she blinked rapidly to clear the tears from her eyes as she looked again out the window.

  “I’m sorry, Denny,” she finally whispered.

  I took a few steps towards her, touching my fingertips under her tense chin. She resisted the pull for a few seconds, but eventually allowed her face to be drawn up towards me. Her sapphire blue eyes retained their unfocused gaze across the western Montana landscape, watching the last glimmers of sunlight quickly fade away.

  I traced my fingertips along the sweet curve of her jaw, wiping away the trail of wetness down her cheek. This brought her luminous eyes up to mine.

  “Don’t be nice to me,” she breathed in a broken voice. “Not now.”

  I touched my forehead to hers.

  “Fliss…” I murmured, cupping her face in my hands. We stood there, quiet and hurting, for what seemed like forever. The sky darkened slowly, and a faint glimmer of stars began to appear. She gently began to settle into my body and we found a silent refuge for a time in just being close.

  Until I fucked it all up.

  I heard her inhale a broken breath, a faint shudder, and turned my face ever so slightly into hers. My lips brushed along her high cheekbone, feathering over the damp path of her tears. I pressed a tender kiss on her skin, and a faint salty taste lit on my tongue. My hands had slowly moved from her shoulders up to her slender neck, into the thick, dark silk of her hair, coaxing her face up until my kiss touched the corner of her mouth.

  Then everything suddenly changed. Her lips parted, and a faint startled gasp seemed to echo in my mind. For a split second, we stood frozen. Knowing I shouldn’t, but wanting to so badly, I softly touched my lips to hers.

  It was so light that I’m not sure I could have even called it a kiss. Barely contact. An ethereal dusting that echoed with a tender longing.

  But it was tremendous… electric and powerful. Fierce and mighty. Overwhelming.

  The almost-kiss erupted into an irresistible plunder of her lips. A fiery wave of longing and urgency rushed through my veins and seeped through my body. I slanted my mouth over hers, exploring the taste of her with a moan of pure, sensual emotion.

  Fliss’ arms slid up my biceps, sliding over my shoulders as her petite form melted into mine. One of my hands held her face steady, keeping her captive for my kiss, while the other stroked down her torso to wrap around her waist.

  She felt so fragile, small and delicate in my arms, yet I crushed her to me in desperation. That gnawing hunger for her, that eternal longing, flowed through my veins as I deepened our kiss.

  And for a moment, I forgot.

  I forgot who we were, who she was. I forgot Trent. I lost myself in the sweet intoxication of her lips, spurred on by the vicious ache that had consumed me for so long.

  It was her voice, soft and breathless, that brought me back.

  “Denny…” she gasped as I lifted scarcely away to catch a breath.

  It all came raging back to me.

  “Feckin’ hell,” I groaned as I pushed her harshly, shoving her back against the wall. Away from me. She stumbled with the abrupt movement. Her hand, those fingers that had just been tangled in my hair, lifted to cover her mouth in horror at what we’d just done. Fierce anger at my own actions ripped through me, at the realization that my envy had finally taken control.

  I’d finally given in.

  I’d just kissed the girlfriend of one of my best friends.

  And I’d done it at his funeral.

  Present day

  “Oh, yes, fuck me, Denny!” Ruth cried as she slammed down on me again and again. “I’m a dirty little slut. Fuck me harder!”

  Best going away present ever.

  Ruth always seemed to be a bit of a wallflower during parties, even though she was quite stunning with her long, mahogany hair and mysterious dark eyes. She’d caught my attention more than once, but was never alone for long, and I’d never really gotten to her fast enough… until tonight.

  I’d heard from a couple of the fellas that she lit up like the bleedin’ Fourth of July once ya got in her knickers. Granted, all the blokes I hung out with could get up on a stiff breeze, especially Justin. He’d shag a crack in a plate.

  That said, though, Ruth really had turned into quite the firecracker, cursing with words I’ve never even heard before as I gave her the business.

  “Oh, yes, right there. Fuck!” she squealed as I shifted my hips to hit her just right with my Jacob’s ladder piercings. “I’m going to come. Shit! Fuck! Oh yes, fuck my pussy!”

  Then she sorta went off in some kind of garbled speech that practically sounded like some kind of pagan tongue. I heard the occasional ‘pussy’ and ‘cock’ and even let out a ‘goddammitshitfuckhell’ at one point right before she gushed all over me.

  Oh, yeah. She was great craic.

  She lay there straddling me on the couch in the music room with her skirt up around her waist, her bared knockers heaving against my chest. The calamity of my farewell party continued raging in the other room, a pulsing beat almost shaking the windows. They’d probably still heard Ruth swearing over the music, though. She could make a porn star blush.

  “A-one, Ruth,” I murmured, patting her lightly on the arse as she breathed into my neck when we had finished.

  “I don’t know if you’re complimenting me or not with that Irish accent of yours,” she giggled into my shoulder, “but thanks, I think?”

  “It’s a compliment,” I chuckled. “That hit the spot.”

  “Mmm…” she murmured in response, “those piercings of yours hit the spot.”

  She really had been pretty damn good. I wasn’t sure why I had never tried her out before.

  “It’s too bad you have to go,” she said, rising upright to look at me, combing the hair from my eyes. “I’d be interested in doing this again sometime.”

  She was nearing that danger zone, where these fine bits of stuff started getting a little wistful after a good hard shagging. It was like walking a tightrope, requiring the delicate balance of flattery and reality to keep from hurtling to the ground.

  “I’m not sure how long I will be gone, so don’t hold your breath,” I said lightly, imparting the reality to be sure there was no misunderstanding. “Who knows though? I might be
up for another round when I get back.”

  She gave me a shy smile, then lifted up off of me to straighten her skirt, cover her breasts, and find her knickers. I stood as well, slipping off the condom and tossing it before I tucked myself back into my jeans.

  “Well,” Ruth said, once she had gotten herself sorted, “give me a call when you do get back. I’d be willing to go another round with you, too.”

  As she slipped out of the room, my mind turned back to Dublin. This time tomorrow I’d be about halfway there, and I really didn’t know when I would be able to come back. If I’d be able to come back, really. My student visa was hardly valid anymore. I just hoped things with my grandmother, my ‘nanny,’ would get better quickly, although there wasn’t much chance for that. My da had said it didn’t look good.

  I was likely going back for a funeral.

  I sat back down on the couch and scrubbed my hands down over my face. My nanny was the person I missed the most in all of Ireland. There was just something special about her. How ironic that going back to see her one last time would likely keep me there without her around.

  I dropped my hands down to my lap and caught sight of the tattooed lyrics on my forearm.

  Always hungry,

  Craving,

  Desperate and fading,

  A twisted, tortured memory

  Of you

  At least if I got stuck in Dublin, it would solve one problem. I could maybe, just maybe, finally put that ghost to rest. Put the past behind me, release that guilt and regret, and forget about that one girl who had haunted me for years. The one girl I could never have.

  I wondered for a moment if her hair was still that deep crimson red it had been the last time I saw her.

  It was naturally a rich, dark chestnut that lit like a flame in the sun, and it had been that shade when I had kissed her.

  She’d started dying it not long after Trent’s funeral. As much as the color was startling, it fit her. It fit the personality I remembered as much as it fit the wild streak that took hold of her after Trent died. The steampunk, pinup style of clothing she wore. It all at once screamed ‘look at me’ yet also seemed to shield her true persona from the world outside. An artifice that protected her frail soul within.