His Holiday Girlfriend: Fake Love, Real Christmas

SURPRISE, SURPRISE

Emma's POV

"Next stop, Westbridge station," the announcement rang. The train rumbled to a stop just as I opened my eyes. This was my stop.

I must have drifted off again. I blinked a few times as the soft headlight caught my eyes. At my feet, my suitcases stood, then I reached for them, pulling them out of the way. People rushed out of the train and I wasn't about to join them.

Finally stepping out of the train, I entered the only available taxi I had seen. I could feel my stomach churning with a new feeling as we sped through the streets.

The streets were beautifully adorned with different colours of light. Mistletoes were placed in front of most buildings. Everywhere smelt of Christmas, and a small smile escaped my lips.

I felt my stomach churning again, and I knew it wasn't just about the holiday. This Christmas would be my last as a single lady. My boyfriend, Declan, would be introducing me to his family members after three years of being together.

This was after I gave him my life savings and resigned from my job as a customer care representative at a small PR company. Where my former boss had refused to keep his hands to himself whenever he was around me.

'This is what love does, right?' I smiled, rubbing my sweaty palms together.

The taxi screeched to a halt before the building where Declan lived. Handing him a little cash, I hurled my bags into the building.

Inside the lobby was decorated with a small mistletoe that had been used more than once. For the last 2 years, I've spent my Christmas holiday with Declan, and I've always seen it there.

"Hi Emma, welcome again," a cheery, but familiar voice burst from behind the desk.

"Hello, Carly. Thanks. Just in time for Christmas." I replied in a soft tone, as I returned her smile.

"Merry Christmas in advance," her voice followed behind me.

"Same to you, too." I half screamed as I stepped into the elevator.

She didn't need to ask who I was here to see, as I've become a regular visitor in this building for the past three years.

When the elevator got to Declan's floor, the new feeling inside my stomach returned. Pushing it aside, I walked towards his door.

My brows met in surprise when I tried to slip in my keys but found out that the door was open. Declan isn't supposed to be home. He had told me he'd be working late today.

That was why I arrived three days earlier, to surprise him. Pushing the door, I entered quietly. But as I was about to take off my boots I heard a moan, then a grunt.

It was Declan's voice. My mind raced with thousands of thoughts. Standing before his door, I didn't even realise how I had gotten there, and I pushed it open.

On the bed, Declan was butt naked, backing me, humping a lady. My eyes widened in shock and my heart beat raced up. My eyes caught the blonde-haired lady under him.

It was Fiona, his work colleague. From where I stood, I could see prints of fingers on her pale skin which obviously belonged to Declan. He held her blonde hair, which was in contrast to my red hair, with one hand while the other teased her nipples simultaneously.

"Ughh, Clanny. Right there. Yeah." Fiona's loud moans covered the room.

"Louder, scream some more," Declan grunted as he rammed into her. Fiona's moans got louder and I knew she was about to reach her climax.

My eyes widened in shock at his words. He'd always taunted me for being loud, saying it would disturb his neighbours. Hearing Fiona scream, my moan was just a whisper.

I felt my eyes closing in dizziness while my hands trembled. My phone fell to the floor, announcing my presence to them.

Declan jerked, turning to the door. His eyes widened, but returned back to normal almost immediately.

"Emma, I didn't know you were going to come earlier." He said in a raspy tone, as if I had interrupted him while playing his favourite game. They remained in that position.

Tilting my head back, I stared at him. "That's all you have to say?" The words came out as a question instead of a statement.

"That's because he has nothing to say to you," Fiona said from under him, her eyes moving from my head to toe.

She pulled the sheets and tried to cover her nakedness as I fixed my gaze on her. But part of her breast was still open to my view.

"You should have known that you were something... temporary." She continued. "His mother would never accept you as her daughter-in-law. You're not from our country."

My chest felt heavy and I took a deep breath. I'd asked Declan several times if his mother was in support of our relationship, but he'd always found a way to shove me aside with the topic.

"When were you going to tell me?" I asked Declan as my voice cracked, returning my gaze to him.

He stared at me with remorse or shame in his eyes. That was all I needed to know his answer. He was never going to tell me.

"After all I did for you. Giving you my life savings and resigning from my job so we could plan our lives together." I yelled all restraint in me breaking.

"I didn't ask you to." He said.

My vision blurred as he said those words. The tears I'd been trying not to shed fell without control. I picked up my phone and ran out of his room.

Squeezing my face, I dropped my glass on the table. I quickly put the lime into my mouth to numb the effect of the whisky I was drinking.

I couldn't remember how I'd left Declan's building, but I found myself in a dim bar a few blocks away from his building.

"Fill up my glass again." I half screamed at the bartender, my voice fading away as the music box blared loudly around me.

I had lost count of how many glasses I had taken. My plan was to drink 2 or 3 glasses and face my reality.

"Is everything alright?" The bartender asked, filling up my glass.

"Yeah," I replied, nodding. "The restroom please?" I asked, struggling to stand on my feet.

The bartender pointed to a corner that my eyes vaguely caught. Without looking at the inscription on the door, I pulled it open and walked in.

I had walked in with the hope of crying some more or breaking anything. But I stopped dead in my tracks because a man was standing at the urinal.

A very tall, broad-shouldered man with tattooed arms. He was in the middle of zipping his jeans. His head snapped at me; he had sharp, grey eyes.

I had just entered the men's restroom. "Oh my God. Sorry. I'm so... sorry," I stuttered then I turned to leave. Instead, hot tears erupted through my eyes, and I started sobbing.

"Are you okay?" The stranger asked slowly.

"You can guess."

He hesitated, but walked towards me. "Do you want me to beat someone or buy you a drink?"

A broken laugh escaped me. "Is it both an option?"

He barely smiled, but his gaze was steady. "Rough night?"

"You could say that." I felt my voice crack. "I just walked in on my boyfriend having sex with someone else in the bed we picked together."

I saw his jaw tighten. "Oof. That's worse than rough."

A beat passed in silence as we both stared at each other. Then an idea came into my head. What's the best way to get over a cheating partner if not to get f**ked by a random, hot stranger you meet in the wrong restroom?

I stretched my hand. "Emma."

NOT THE CHRISTMAS I PLANNED

Emma's POV

The drive to the stranger's house was in a blur. We'd had a few more drinks, and I couldn't keep my hands to myself. I'd found myself giggling and laughing like a teenager who was having a fun time with her crush.

In his car, my fingers trailed his body and stopped when I reached his groin.

"Uhhh," I moaned as I felt his huge bulge beneath his trousers. Biting my lower lip, I squeezed it while staring into his eyes.

I saw his eyes close for a beat, and a groan escaped his mouth. Taking it as my cue, I pulled down his zip, freeing his huge c**k. My eyes widened at his size. He was at least twice Declan's size.

I started by stroking his huge shaft, squeezing it intermittently. My heart raced as his c**k grew in size as I stroked it. Then I felt his right hand roam my thigh to my chest, grabbing my breast in a squeeze.

A moan escaped my lips, and my grip on his c**k tightened, and I stroked him faster. He pulled my head down on him, he filled my mouth, and I gagged.

"Fuck," I heard him mutter as I sucked him.

When we arrived at his house, he carried me up the staircase, and my back crashed on a soft mattress. It only took a matter of seconds for my clothes to leave my body. And his eyes, hands and mouth ravaged my body.

I woke up to silence with no unfamiliar man sprawled next to me or pulling me back under the covers. The bed still smelled like him, and his woodsy cologne filled the room.

My thighs ached, my nipples felt like they'd been worshipped all night. I felt my entire muscle scream with pain like I'd done five marathons on my back. I winced, covering my face with my hand as last night's memories returned.

The way his wet tongue had teased my skin. How I'd screamed multiple times with pure ecstasy and how my legs had trembled when I'd climaxed.

God, how many did we...?

I blinked at the ceiling, remembering the sinful way he'd kissed me like he wanted to ruin me, which he did exactly that. I'd climbed him like I was auditioning for the best horse rider of the year.

Every corner in the room had been a perfect place for different positions. I had even given him a drunken blow job in the car and several other times.

A corner of his bed was wet, I'd squirted multiple times. Oh goodness me! I made a total mess of his room.

Shaking my head, I dragged the covers over me and sat up. I quickly spotted my bra on the lamp, and my dress was thrown in a corner of his room. It took me a minute to find my underwear.

Slipping into last night's clothes, I padded barefoot into the hallway. The place was surprisingly nice. I hadn't noticed it when we entered last night.

The faint sound of a voice pulled me toward the kitchen. I pushed at the door and peeked in. I froze.

There he was, shirtless, standing in navy joggers and holding a mug in one hand and his phone in the other. His back was to me. He had broad shoulders and tanned skin with a faint scratch mark under his shoulder.

I felt my cheeks heat up; the mark had probably been created by me.

"I know I said I'd bring someone, but obviously that's not happening. I don't have a girlfriend." He said into the phone and paused.

"Yeah, Patrick, I know how my mom is. She'll give me hell, but I can't just pull a girl out of nowhere."

'Maybe he's talking to his friend,' I reasoned, but stayed still.

"I'm not skipping Christmas. I already promised her."

I stood frozen, my heart beating faster. 'So... he needs a girlfriend? Interesting.'

He turned just as he hung up the call, and his eyes locked with mine.

"Oh " He set the phone down. "You're awake."

Holy hell, he's still shirtless. My brain blanked again. I tried not to look at his abs. But I failed.

I knew this man had been inside me. Five different positions last night, but now that I was sober and facing him in the morning light?

He was stupid hot. His light brown hair was in a messy bedhead style, a sharp jaw, a chest with little hair and toned abs that belonged to someone who worked with his hands.

"You okay?" He asked, breaking the silence.

"Mo... morning," I stuttered and stepped inside.

He walked over to the counter and poured coffee into another mug. "You want some?"

"Desperately." I nodded.

He handed me the mug, and as I took it, our fingers brushed. I stared at him for a moment and a ridiculous idea formed in my head. The crazy, reckless, very me kind of idea.

"So," I said slowly, leaning on the doorframe. "I didn't quite catch your name last night."

His brows rose. I quickly raised a finger. "In my defence, when you told me I was a little... preoccupied with you."

He chuckled, that same low, rumbling sound that had my toes curl last night. "Liam. Liam O'Connor."

"Emma Walsh," I said, giving a little mock curtsy. "Nice to meet you... again."

"I heard your call," I said in a low tone.

I noticed his muscles tense, but he relaxed immediately. "Right."

"You need a girlfriend. And I need a distraction."

"You want to be my fake girlfriend?" He asked, raising a brow.

I nodded before speaking. "Your family wants someone. I'm someone."

I paused, taking a sip of the coffee, letting it warm my throat. "You take me with you for Christmas. We pretend to be madly in love. Everyone's happy."

"You barely know me." He countered.

I shrugged. "You were inside me almost throughout the night. Feels like a fast track introduction."

He choked on his own sip, laughing. "Jesus."

"Come on," I said, leaning on the counter. "I need to get the hell out of London. I have nowhere to go, and I'd rather not spend my Christmas crying over a man who used my savings to screw someone else. Plus... you already promised your mom."

Liam stared at me, his grey eyes piercing into me. "You're serious."

"Completely."

He crossed his arms, staring thoughtfully at me. "You do know this would involve lying to my whole family throughout the year?"

"Yup."

"And staying in the same house as me."

"Worked out fine last night," I said with a cheeky smile.

"You're insane," he said, rubbing a hand on his face.

"I've been told so before," I said, rolling my eyes. "Is that a yes?"

A beat passed. "Alright. Let's do it."

LOVING SANTA'S GIFT

Emma's POV

The next few days passed in a hazy blur. I'd gone back to Declan's apartment the other day after Liam ravaged my body again, fully prepared to snatch my suitcase and ghost him forever.

But fate had other plans. I bumped into both him and Fiona at the lobby. She clung to his arm like a trophy and they both froze when they saw me.

I didn't say a word. I simply smiled, kept walking and dragged my suitcase behind me with a silent pride. Declan didn't even try to stop me and that stung more than I'd expected.

But that pain didn't last long. Because back at Liam's house, the real distraction began.

I woke up that morning to warm lips wrapped around my nipple and a strong hand sliding between my thighs.

A sharp moan left my throat. "Liam..."

"Good morning to you too," he murmured against my skin, his voice deep and rough from sleep.

His fingers stroked my c**t expertly, he already knew what made me squirm. We hadn't exactly been keeping things 'fake' in the bedroom. Since I moved into his house, this has become our routine. Me waking up to his mouth, his hands, his thick c**k and sinful body.

A gasp left my mouth when he slid two fingers inside me, curling them in a way that made my legs tremble violently.

"You're already so wet," he said as he brushed his lips against my jaw.

"Maybe because you keep waking me up like this," I managed to say, digging my fingers into his shoulder.

He gave a low chuckle and kissed my stomach. "Complaining?"

"Never," I whispered.

After a few more strokes he went inside me, stretching me in a way that felt almost too much, but just right. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he began with slow and deep thrusts.

God, how did a man like this exist?

He was 34. Ten years older than me. A grown man who knew exactly what he was doing with his hands, mouth and definitely his c**k.

Declan, my ex, was only 27. A man-child who'd barely figured out where the clit was.

Liam, on the other hand, had my body memorised by the second night. And it scared me how much I like it.

He fucked like he had something to prove. Like he wanted to erase every stupid memory of my past. Sometimes he did it slowly, like he was savouring me. Sometimes he lost control and took me roughly against the kitchen counter and the bedroom table.

I wasn't complaining. But I had gone to the clinic two days ago for an emergency contraceptive. I wasn't about to add a surprise baby to my list of 2025 problems.

After we both came hard and tangled in each other, I curled into his sweaty chest.

"You know," I said, breathing fast, "for a lawyer, you're surprisingly good at... this."

He gave a small laugh. "Thanks, I guess? Law and fucking aren't that different. Both require focus, accuracy, and strategy."

"You're ridiculous," I mumbled against his chest.

"And you're like it."

Unfortunately... I did. This was definitely not how I planned my Christmas, but I was loving Santa's gift.

A few hours later, I was sitting in a plane beside Liam with my stomach doing strange flips. Two weeks until Christmas and we were on our way to the Republic of Ireland, Dublin. This was where I'd have spent my holiday with Declan.

He looked relaxed in his hoodie and jeans, scrolling through his phone like this was just another work trip. Meanwhile, I was practically vibrating in my seat, rereading the information about him he'd sent to my phone.

Favourite food: "Mom's shepherd pie."

First pet: "a black sheep named Whisley."

Favourite hiding spot as a kid: "the barn behind their house."

Worst subject: "maths."

The thing he hates the most: "cold tea."

I muttered the facts under my breath like I was preparing for a final exam. Because I was. If I messed this up, I'd embarrass both of us in front of his family.

"You're nervous," Liam said as he gambled sideways at me.

"Nope. I'm completely fine," I lied.

"You're mumbling about sheep." He said, smiling slightly.

"That's because whiskey was a sheep."

"We've got this." He said as his fingers brushed mine between the seats. "Just follow my lead."

I laughed and relaxed a little. "Just don't leave me alone with your mom."

'I won't. Probably."

I shot him a glare and he winked.

The plane landed in Dublin, and the cold December air whipped my hair around. We finally pulled up at his family's house and I wasn't sure what to expect.

It was cosy and full of charm. Twinkling light lined the roof and the white walls. It wasn't flashy, it was big but warm and full of life.

Inside his mother greeted us with a squeal and a hug that nearly knocked me back. Her arms were soft and her perfume reminded me of cinnamon and my late mother.

"You must be Emma!" She gushed. "Oh look at you! You're even prettier than Liam described.

"I blinked. "Oh... thank you." He had talked about me to his mother.

His sister Siobhán hugged me too, and then his uncle cracked a joke about Liam finally bringing home a girl who didn't look like a tax write-off.

They welcomed me as if I belonged there. It was overwhelming. I smiled, taking in a deep breath, trying to keep up with the rush of Irish accents, laughter and the smell of food in the kitchen.

Just then, I heard a tiny voice. "Daddy?"

Everyone turned as a small girl in red boots walked into the living room. Her brown, curly hair bounced as she rubbed her sleepy eyes.

I could feel my heart miss some beats and resume beating faster. She looked like a tiny version of Liam. She had his stormy grey eyes and jawline.

She blinked up at me and then whispered. "Are you my new mommy?"