Lucky This Isn't Real: MacBride Brothers Series St. Patrick's Day Fake Fiance Romance

by Jamie Knight

  “I know what you mean,” I said, easily able to think of a few actors I knew only by their character names but who seemed to be in every second or third thing I saw.

  “I actually wouldn’t mind being one of those,” he remarked.

  “You don’t want to be famous?” I asked. “But you said your show could be as big as Friends. Isn’t that what every actor dreams of?”

  “There are all sorts of fame, sweetheart.”

  “I guess so, yeah,” I said, never having thought about it that way.

  I suppose being well known as a character actor still counted as being pretty famous— even if no one ever remembered your actual name.

  I wasn’t quite sure what he meant by the “sweetheart,” though. He hadn’t been in Hollywood long enough for it to really be a showbiz thing.

  Was it possible he was already calling me by a pet name? I dearly hoped that was the case.

  Quick as it was, I was really falling for him. And not just because of the big, comfy couch and mind-altering sex. He was perfect and chivalrous and unaffected by bullshit.

  The movie ended, and I sat up with a start, realizing that I had already been dozing on his shoulder. He kissed me, bringing me immediately to full consciousness.

  “I should go to bed,” I said with a yawn and a stretch.

  “Yeah, baby!” he said, doing his best attempt at an Austin Powers impression.

  I laughed and gave him a playful swat.

  “I mean for sleep. I promised my therapist that I’d work on my sleep routine. Apparently, it’s vital for living a healthy life.”

  “Truthfully, I’ve always thought therapy was a bit of a scam. Better to go to the pub and talk to the bartender. Less expensive and about as effective.”

  My eyebrows shot up at that remark.

  “Really? What were you doing at the professional building then, smart guy?”

  “Seeing my lawyer about getting my work visa extended. It was a lot easier after I got contracted on to the show. The producers were quite keen to keep me in the country.”

  “My therapist is quite good, really,” I said, feeling very bristly and defensive.

  “Really?” Gavin asked, cocking an eyebrow.

  “Yeah, I mean, she’s not at all like the stereotype. For starters, she’s French. Listening to her is actually pretty relaxing. And she really knows her stuff. Like, I think she reads neurology journals and is familiar with all the current research. It isn’t some silly dream interpretation crap. She really tries to help, like on a deep level.”

  “Whoa, okay, sorry.” He held his hands up. “I didn’t mean that all therapists are con artists. It isn’t really right for me, but if it helps you, then, of course, you should do it.”

  “You don’t need to talk to anyone about anything?” I asked.

  “Not anything that I would want to,” he said cryptically.

  I couldn’t help but feel like a bit of a weak loser, having to see a therapist for my problems, which he only knew the surface of.

  No one really knew about my dad. Not even Dr. Benoit. Not really. I’d mentioned him once or twice but never went into detail.

  “I admire people who can open up,” Gavin said, smoothing my hair behind my ear. “That’s never really been me, though.”

  He didn’t say any more on the subject, but I could sense the hurt under his words. Like there was something much deeper that he wasn’t telling me.

  Not that I was one to talk about deep, dark secrets. I wondered if maybe his family was as screwed up as mine.

  “Let’s get you off to sleep, then,” he said, scooping me up and carrying me into his bedroom. “Therapist’s orders.”

  His bedroom was also huge and nicely decorated with track lighting illuminating the entire area. I held onto him as he carried me over to his bed.

  “Therapy can be really helpful,” I explained again as he lowered me onto the bed.

  He shrugged and gently pulled off my shirt, unveiling my bare boobs. I instinctively covered them as he took down my yoga pants.

  “I—”

  “Lie back and relax,” he said.

  I obeyed, lying down on my back, stiff as a board, wondering what he had planned for me. Part of me wanted to fuck again but I really did need to sleep.

  “Turn around.”

  I obeyed, wondering if he was going to try anal. It was a notion that filled me with both excitement and fear, so much so that I softly trembled.

  As soon as his hands touched my back, his intentions were made clear, and I relaxed, releasing a soft sigh as he lovingly massaged me, not even trying to touch me anywhere but on my back and my neck.

  It only took a few minutes before I found myself drifting off to sweet, happy sleep.

  Chapter Eleven – Gavin

  In the morning, I kissed the back of Maggie’s neck, making her stir.

  I had ended up spooning her sometime during the night. It hadn’t really been a plan, and I hoped she wouldn’t mind.

  I’d loved fucking her and sensed that she had loved it, too. I didn’t want to push it too far, but I didn’t want to let her out of my sight for a second.

  How was it possible that someone I barely knew could have such a potent effect on me?

  I hadn’t avoided relationships in the past, but I hadn’t sought them out, either. I preferred to leave before things got too serious, but something about Maggie made me want to stick around.

  Maggie turned to face me.

  She nuzzled her cheek against my chest and sighed happily.

  “Hey,” she said.

  “Hey,” I said back, kissing the top of her head.

  “I need a shower,” she said.

  “Me too. My shower’s big enough for two. Care if I join you?”

  “Okay,” she said, without hesitation.

  She rolled out of bed and sauntered stark naked from the bed to the bathroom. I got the feeling she was getting really comfortable with me, and I loved that feeling. Almost as much as I loved looking at her curves without any clothes covering them up.

  I kicked off my sweats and t-shirt and followed her into the bathroom.

  “This is amazing!” she gushed, as I helped her up over the side of the soaker tub, into the fully tiled shower— the tiles arranged in a fresco image of an ancient Greek public bath.

  “It’s not the worst,” I said with a grin.

  “And that’s not the only amazing thing,” she said, glancing down at my rapidly hardening cock.

  “I think we have time for a quickie, don’t you?”

  She flicked the tip of her tongue along her lower lip.

  “I think we do.”

  “I could use some special magic before my audition. It could bring me luck, after all.”

  “Do you know anything about the ancient art of sex magick?” Maggie asked.

  “A bit, aye.”

  I did. Eoin had been getting into it and telling me some of the interesting things he was learning from his school friends, to which I always had to respond that he should not be talking to me about that kind of thing.

  I’d never really thought about trying it, but if it made her happy, I saw no reason not to infer I knew about it. It wasn’t really a lie.

  What felt more like a lie was step-dancing around the true extent of my messed-up family history last night. I had alluded to the fact that I didn’t have anything to talk about with a therapist. That wasn’t true, but there was nothing that I felt comfortable revealing.

  Was there really much of a difference between lying and dishonesty by omission?

  What wasn’t a lie was that I was falling for Maggie— hook, line, and sinker.

  It still felt weird, falling in love so fast, but I really couldn’t deny the honest truth.

  “This is a really nice shower,” Maggie remarked.

  “Uh-huh. We’d better put it to good use.”

  “We’d better.”

  She turned around and bent over, her hands braced against the ti
led wall, and the warm water from the designer rainfall showerhead lashed down over her beautiful, naked form. Without a word, I got on my knees behind her, gently spreading her folds.

  Taking a moment just to appreciate the sheer beauty of her tight, pink pussy, I then, as gently as possible, ran my tongue down the length of her, dragging a long, loud moan from deep in her soul. It was one that grew louder with each light pass of my tongue over her sweet, delicate lips.

  Going a bit harder, I kept lapping, well aware that the pussy was pressure-sensitive instead of friction-sensitive. I really loved pleasuring her in this position. There was enough of an angle to put pressure on her clit and G-spot as I did.

  When Maggie got close to orgasm, I pulled back a little, letting her settle a bit before going back in earnest, licking in hard, circular motions while working a finger inside her.

  She started shaking so hard I thought she might collapse, so I braced my other hand on her hip in case I had to keep her from falling.

  She stayed upright, just barely, as she shook and trembled with a massive orgasm. I got up and held her, kissing her gently as she came down.

  There was no getting around it: I was falling for her, and I fully intended to show her how I felt.

  When she was ready, I bent her over again and gently stroked my cock against her tender and engorged opening.

  Maggie jerked as I eased the head of my dick inside her sweet, tight, wet little pussy. She took in a sharp breath and let it slowly out, a tremble going through her.

  “You okay, darlin’?” I asked, stroking her lower back.

  “God, yes! You feel really fucking good. Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.”

  I penetrated her channel until my throbbing shaft was halfway in. Then, taking her firmly by the hips, I moved deeper into her.

  I loved working her tight pussy, feeling it squeeze me back, not wanting to let me go. It was nice to feel so welcome and wanted.

  Maggie came first, trembling against me as the waves of pleasure rippled through her gorgeous, curvy body. Her inner muscles worked me hard, spasming all around my shaft.

  Easing out, I grabbed my cock near the head to keep from coming too soon. I pulled out.

  “Turn around,” I instructed her.

  Maggie turned to face me. She got on her knees to accept my load.

  I pushed my cock into her mouth, keeping one hand on the back of her head as she sucked the cum out of me, flooding her mouth and her throat.

  I pulled my dick out and gently wiped the drop of cum that was trickling down her chin with my thumb, which I then slid into her mouth.

  Maggie sucked greedily.

  Then I helped her to her feet and kissed her passionately.

  “Real sex might be making me fall for my fake fiancée,” I said as I held her.

  Maggie laughed, seeming to think that I was kidding. I laughed too, not wanting to let on that I was not only serious but that I had actually already fallen for her.

  I buried it, like I had so much else, vowing not to bring it up again until I was sure she felt the same.

  I dried her off, paying special attention to her tits and pussy, and she did the same for me, making sure that my cock was thoroughly dry and ready for the day. She also gave it an impulsive little kiss on the head.

  She asked about the scars on my back, but I brushed her question off by saying they had happened at a different time in my life and were nothing to worry about. She wasn’t happy with that answer, but she accepted it.

  I wasn’t sure if she was falling for me the same way I was for her, but she sure did like my cock, which was certainly a start.

  Leaving her wrapped in a towel, drying her copious amounts of hair, I went to get ready for my audition, checking back in on her on my way out.

  “I have to go, hot stuff. Take your time and eat what you want from the kitchen. Just lock up on your way out.”

  “I don’t have a key.”

  “You do now,” I said and smiled. “Check your phone for the code and app to open the door.”

  The look on her face was so priceless I knew that downloading the app earlier while we were both getting ready had been a risk worth taking.

  She wanted to stay at my place more, and I wanted the same.

  This relationship was already headed in a great direction, and I could only hope for my good luck in it to continue.

  Chapter Twelve – Maggie

  The eggs popped and sizzled in the fancy cast iron skillet. There was a matching one next to it, with some really good-looking bacon that I just couldn’t resist.

  I was glad that Gavin had said I could eat anything I wanted. Our sexathon last night, followed up by this morning’s quickie, had both left me famished.

  It seemed pretty cool that we were already at the “stay as long as you want at my place” stage of our relationship. And even the “here’s the code to my place” stage.

  It wasn’t really a “relationship” since we hadn’t talked about it, but to me, it felt as if it was, even though that didn’t make a whole lot of sense.

  We really hadn’t known each other that long. We had been aware of each other’s existence for a week, and there hadn’t been any real contact between when we met at the professional building and when Gavin came to pick me up for the engagement party.

  We were really little more than strangers when you thought about it— even calling us friends would be pushing it— and our relationship was supposed to be fake, a ruse to fool Kenny and Raquel and make them jealous and let them know that they couldn’t kick me around anymore. That I was better than that.

  If I couldn’t be sure of anything else, it was that. They had tried to destroy me with their affair, and dammit, they had gotten close, but I wasn’t going to let them do that to me.

  My dad used to say I was like a willow.

  I might bend, but I would never break.

  Which didn’t help much with Gavin.

  I really did feel like I was starting to fall in love with him, but I had no idea if he felt the same. He had said that thing in the shower, but that could have been just a joke or maybe pillow talk, so to speak. He had laughed, but only after I had.

  It was possible that he had been serious and didn’t want to admit it. I wasn’t sure that I did either. Not even to myself. It seemed really big and scary. Kenny was the only boyfriend I’d ever had, and look how that had ended.

  Was it really possible to find another love so quickly?

  To fall in love in the blink of an eye?

  What did that mean about my previous relationship?

  That I didn’t really love Kenny, I supposed.

  It was surprising to consider, but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. It was really romantic, at least early on, but it wasn’t really love.

  I was just too young and innocent to see it. I had no indication that Kenny ever really loved me, either.

  He tried to woo me, alright, but that could just have been so that he could have my body. Dad would have kicked his ass if he’d been around. He wasn’t a violent man, but he was really big and wouldn’t have taken too kindly to someone in his thirties exploiting his teenage daughter.

  My mind spun, and I was beginning to feel sick. I needed to leave and get some air. I turned off the stove, threw away the food, and cleaned up before I went into the bedroom to get my clothes.

  While I was in there, I noticed that the bed was unmade. Unable to leave a chore undone, I threw on my clothes and started making it. I had just tucked the last corner when I heard a knock on the front door.

  I figured it was Gavin’s housekeeper. He was certainly rich enough to have one, and, being a bachelor, it made sense that he would. I wondered why she didn’t have her own code, but then figured that maybe she had forgotten it.

  I grabbed my purse, planning to leave once I let her in, and opened the door. It wasn’t the housekeeper. Instead, a guy who looked an awful lot like Gavin stood in the threshold.

  He w
as a couple years younger than me and had the same MacBride height and coloring. For a second, I thought the kid might be Gavin’s son, but then I did the math, and it seemed very unlikely.

  “Hello there,” he said, his Irish accent unmissable.

  His eyes didn’t meet mine. They were too busy ogling my tits.

  I couldn’t really blame the kid. To a teenage guy like him, I was sure they would be pretty mesmerizing.

  I sort of doubted he had seen many like them, at least not in real life, and I wasn’t even wearing a bra. He could no doubt see my nipples pressed up against the thin material of my shirt.

  I ignored his innocent staring and tried to get to the matter at hand.

  “Where’s Gavin?” he inquired of my boobs.

  “He’s not here. May I ask who you are?”

  “Eoin,” he said, as if suddenly remembering his manners, and then he looked up at my eyes. “Eoin MacBride. I’m Gavin’s youngest brother.”

  “Number six?” I asked.

  “Aye. Did he tell ye about me?”

  “Kind of. I mean, he said he had five brothers.”

  “You’re one up on me then, ‘cause he never told me he had a smokin’ hot girlfriend.”

  I blushed a bit at the compliment. No one but Kenny had used those exact words to describe me, and I now suspected he had had an agenda. Eoin had no reason to lie and was clearly speaking the impulsive truth.

  Except maybe for the girlfriend bit. I still wasn’t too sure of that one but saw no reason to overcomplicate things.

  “I guess not, and thank you, Eoin. My name’s Maggie.”

  “Pleasure to meet you, Maggie.”

  “What brings you by?” I asked. “Gavin didn’t mention any of his brothers were in L.A. like him.”

  “I wasn’t. I-I came all the way from Ireland. I had to. I really need to talk to Gavin, but I think he’s screening my calls. I used the money he sent me to pay for the flight. Our dad is in a bad way.”

  “Oh no. What happened?” I asked, my fingertips flying to my lips.

  He took a small step back, as if clearly shocked that I didn’t know anything about his father.