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

by Jamie Knight

  “Hen party?” Amy asked, her brow wrinkling.

  “I guess that’s what you Americans call a bachelorette party,” Ciara explained. “I’ll be right back.”

  With no effort and little influence from gravity, Ciara hopped down from the stool and went to the bartender. The bartender led her to the manager, and that meeting of minds followed with Ciara being led to a room in the back.

  The song that had been playing, some dreamy, mystic thing by a traditional vocalist, the sort of music usually heard in gift shops and on relaxation CDs, came to an abrupt halt. Then rock music with folky elements filled the air instead.

  “Much better,” Ciara beamed, reclaiming her stool. “There’s more to Irish music than U2 and wispy wind chimes.”

  “To a wonderful wedding!” Nicole said, raising her recently arrived bottle of Guinness.

  “Yes. And to the happy union of Gavin and Maggie, may they last a thousand years,” Ciara said, raising her most recent Jell-O shot.

  We tapped our feet to the beat and downed several more shots.

  “I love you so much,” Maggie said to me, with tipsy sincerity.

  My best friend was a lightweight and was known to get drunk after one glass of wine. We all took her in a group hug, bonded for life over common links and expensive drinks.

  Ciara was included in the action despite having just arrived in the country the day before. She was part of Gavin’s past, and Maggie loved Gavin, so it was a six-degrees of separation sort of thing, with very few degrees between.

  Thinking of Gavin made me think of Sean. Not only the fact that he wasn’t here, but also about what he might have been like before. Ciara had probably known him for years, being a friend of the family and all.

  I could think of few better sources for info on him than her. I just had to figure out how to ask her about him without seeming like too much of a stalker.

  “I love Gavin so much,” Maggie announced, for the fourth or fifth time that night.

  “We know, we know,” I said playfully.

  In truth, I really wasn’t one to be throwing stones, having just recently acquired a lovely glass house. I might have been less vocal about it, but my attraction to Sean seemed similar to Maggie’s stated one to Gavin, though hers was, admittedly, based on a whole lot more.

  They’d been together a while and knew one another inside out. But even in the very beginning, it had been fast and furious.

  A punk-sounding song with flutes and violins blasted over the speakers.

  “That’s Irish?” Amy asked, her nose wrinkling in distaste.

  “It is,” Ciara confirmed.

  “The singer, he sounds— odd.”

  “He’s Serbian,” Ciara explained. “The band is called the Orthodox Celts. They spearheaded an underground scene of Serbian-made Celtic music back in the 90s.”

  “And that’s authentic, is it?” Nicole asked, pointedly, her inner lawyer coming out full force.

  “If their heart is in it, aye. This music is real because it’s done with love.”

  Ciara placed a hand on her heart and nodded in time to the beat.

  Even Nicole, who made quite a good living through arguing, couldn’t argue with her on that. I never would have taken Ciara for the sentimental type, which just went to show how people could surprise you.

  After a while we decided that a change in scenery was in order. Leaving the car at McGinty’s, we went to the next pub, which, as it happened, was right across the street.

  There wasn’t much of a plan as to how we would get home, but an Uber seemed most likely. Or, if we were too drunk or sleepy by then, Gavin would probably come pick us up. No way he would risk his bride-to-be possibly not making it home the night before her wedding.

  There were even more people here than there had been at McGinty’s, the St. Patrick’s Day crowd apparently getting an early start. It probably also helped that this second pub had karaoke and high-alcohol Irish beer. A beautiful example of cultural exchange.

  Before we could blink, Ciara was gone. We spotted her over at the signup table for karaoke, charming the pants off the guy running the machine. She came back to us with a wide smile lifting her lips.

  “What did you do?” Nicole asked, almost like an accusation.

  “I got us on the list. Maggie, I’m going to need your help when I go up. It’s kind of a duet.”

  “What’s the song?” Maggie asked, her eyes glassy and happy.

  “‘Fairytale of New York.’ Who cares if it isn’t Christmas?” Ciara’s grin bordered on evil, “Then I have all of us doing ‘I Don’t Like Mondays.’”

  “I don’t think I’m nearly drunk enough for that,” Amy opined.

  “That can be easily remedied,” I said.

  Five more shots later and Maggie and Ciara were up on the stage, belting out my favorite Christmas song in surprisingly stable voices. I knew Maggie could sing, but Ciara could really bring it, too.

  What Ciara had neglected to tell me, or had at least kept secret, was that between “Fairytale of New York” and “I Don’t Like Mondays,” both drunken sing-along standards, she had something else planned for me.

  “Take Me to Church” by Hozier, who was also Irish, took a different approach. I didn’t know for sure, but I suspected she’d figured out what was happening between Sean and me.

  So many of Hozier’s beautiful lyrics resonated with me on a very deep level. It was honestly a struggle not to tear up as I sang, let alone to keep my voice steady.

  Thank goodness for the lyrics on the screen, or I never would have gotten through it. As it was, I gave a performance that roused a genuine standing ovation from the hushed crowd that had kept chatting through almost every other song.

  A few other people went up before our big finish, so I went to the table with the others. I managed to hold it together right up until I felt the chair’s solid seat under me, then it all came out, and I cried like a drunken, lovesick idiot.

  Without a word, Maggie got a napkin and tried to salvage my mascara while simultaneously comforting me. She had likely guessed at what had happened and was doing her best at damage control.

  “That was amazing,” Ciara said, her plan, if there had been one, apparently working out better than she had hoped.

  “I didn’t know you could do that,” Amy said. “Sing, I mean.”

  “I don’t. I mean, not often, and not for years. I— I’m not really sure where that came from.”

  “I have some ideas,” Maggie said, just loud enough for me to hear, giving me a gentle squeeze.

  “You karaoke drunk yet?” Amy asked Nicole.

  “Almost.”

  “Double gin and tonic,” Amy called to a passing server. “And after I drink that, I’ll be ready.”

  Full of Dutch courage and with nowhere to flee, we took the stage, leaning on each other for support as those famous piano notes started up. With the four of us up there in our green dresses in various shades, Maggie looked like the odd one by comparison.

  It was only when Ciara started dancing around that I realized how silly we must all look, though. Despite our far-from-sober state, we made the best of it, inadvertently starting a sing-along, the entire pub, from customers to staff, going with us, particularly on the chorus, which added a real pep to the ‘tell me why!’ part of the lyrics.

  Gavin showed up around midnight, kissing Maggie as she got into the front seat of his Prius. Through some miracle of physics, Amy, Nicole, Ciara and I managed to squeeze in the back. Sure, Amy was kind of sitting on my lap, but we made it work.

  I was the last one to be dropped off before Gavin and Maggie headed home. She had moved in with him a while ago, spurring me to move to a more affordable place, which wasn’t as bad as I’d feared.

  The new place was actually pretty nice and close to the office, which was a definite plus. I was hardly there anyway, using it mostly for cooking, showering, and sleeping.

  I fell against the door frame, the alcohol taking its ugly t
oll. Pushing myself back into a vaguely upright position, I kicked my shoes off. High heels were definitely more of a hindrance at that moment. I made it into the bedroom, managing to slither out of the maid of honor dress before crashing onto the bed.

  My panties were next, eased down my legs in three different tries, my coordination not what it usually was. Lolling onto my back, I let my legs fall open, liking how the nice, fresh air felt on my skin that had been undercover all day.

  I really did prefer being naked or at least wearing as little as possible. I liked the feeling of not wearing a bra and would go without panties if I thought I could get away with it.

  Sometimes I would fantasize about wearing a loose, flowing, cotton dress with nothing under it. I promised myself I would try it this coming summer, pretty sure I would love it if I could get past the initial fear and embarrassment.

  I thought about Sean seeing me that way. His eyes gliding over my body, silhouetted by the sun shining through the white cotton. The more I thought about it, the more excited I got, nearly reaching the levels I was when he took my arm at the rehearsal.

  My hand moved down between my legs and lightly grazed my tender folds, even that gentle touch bringing a gasp from deep inside. I wasn’t a virgin, not quite, though I wasn’t super experienced either and still fairly young at only twenty-four. My pussy was still as tender and pink as when I first had had sex. I’d lost my virginity at twenty and hadn’t seen much action since.

  The experience of my first time left me just a bit shocked. It wasn’t until the second time, a couple years later, that I understood what sex could really be, but by then, I was headlong into building a career and didn’t really have time for love. That was, in no small part, why I was so surprised by the impact that Sean had had on me.

  I’d wanted him like I’d never wanted a man before. I ached to give myself to him entirely and do whatever he asked. I wanted to pleasure him in any way I could, trusting he would do the same for me.

  It was nuts, but I suspected the feeling was mutual. Had I invited him back to my place, I knew he would have accepted, and we would have had lots of beautiful sex, free of nervousness or regrets. I chose my friends, as I should have done, but that didn’t quell the fire burning in me for Sean. One which had returned with a vengeance.

  It became clear that just stroking my folds and brushing my fingers over my clit wasn’t going to do it. As good as it felt, it wasn’t going to make me climax. For that, I was going to have to use my fingers.

  Taking a slow, deep breath, I eased two fingers inside my channel, wishing I’d invested in a good vibrator. It would have made things so much easier.

  As soon as my wetted fingers entered my pussy, lightly grazing my clit as they pushed in, I was transported to the meadow I always thought of when I’d dream about going almost completely naked.

  I’d seen one like it in Europe somewhere and thought it looked perfect. It was almost as though I could feel the soft grass under my bare feet, a gentle breeze playing at the loose material of my dress, making my nipples hard. I could see them stand out against the thin white cloth.

  The hem came down to my knees but still, I hiked up the dress far enough to get my hand up under it as I was stroking my palm lightly up my inner thigh to tenderly cup my smooth, bare pussy. A soft sigh escaped my lips at first contact, one echoed in real life as I gently fingered myself.

  In my mind, the figure of a man was in the distance but getting ever closer. Feeling a pang of shame, I dropped the hem of my dress and blushed furiously. It never occurred to me to try and run. I needed to stay and face the consequences. To accept my punishment if any were to come.

  All fears fled when I saw him. The man in my fantasy was Sean. Had it always been him?

  His blue eyes were soft and full of both love and desire. He wasn’t going to punish me but free me. He would give me what I’d wanted for so long.

  Looking me straight in the eye, Sean picked up the hem of my dress, lifting it up even further than I had, and tucked his hand up under it, taking hold of my pussy. It felt right. My pussy was for him— all for him, to do with as he wished.

  “I’m yours,” I said, my voice coming out as a whisper.

  “Always.”

  He kissed me, soft and warm, as his fingers slipped inside, fitting snugly into my warm, tight cunt. Moving almost imperceptibly, he stroked me in a soft ‘come here’ motion, stimulating my clit and g-spot at the same time while also working my tender pussy.

  Wrapping a strong arm around my waist for support, he went harder, finger fucking me to an orgasm so intense my knees buckled. Holding me to him, strong and true, Sean eased me down, laying me gently on the soft grass, the sun embracing me with its warmth.

  He was gentle as we kissed, keeping his mouth closed at first until I got used to it. The intimacy was closer than anything I’d had in a while. I needed to learn how to kiss again, and he was fine to wait.

  When I was ready, we both opened our mouths, our tongues coming together in sweet, succulent synergy, the feeling so strong I actually started to suck on his. Sean was patient with me, stroking my hair as I did so.

  He stroked the outside of my pussy, getting me even more excited. Kissing his way down my neck to my chest, most of it left bare by the neckline of my dress, he moved between my legs.

  Gently easing my thighs apart, Sean ran his tongue down the length of my trembling labia, making me nearly scream with pleasure. Pure joy jolted through me, only getting stronger with each successive lick, gaining in intensity each time.

  It felt like he might swallow me whole, taking a few attempted mouthfuls of my cunt, every time resigning himself to licking and sucking on my clit.

  I came hard, shuddering and moaning like nothing on earth with Sean holding me through it all, tenderly stroking my pussy as it happened. As he held me, I could feel something pressing against me.

  Driven by both love and guilt for leaving him in that condition, I liberated his beautiful cock from the prison of his pants, receiving it into my hands as it sprang free. I gave it several tender strokes, pumping him in both hands while softly kissing the head when I could.

  Soon enough, the kisses turned to sucks, my hands moving lower down his shaft as I swallowed the delicious head of his magnificent shaft.

  He moaned deeply as I sucked him, letting me know how much he liked it as well as urging me on. I followed his lead, gaining in both speed and depth according to his response.

  I ended up sucking him hard while half swallowing his considerable size, his head somewhere well behind my gag reflex. It would probably be considered deep throating, but there was so much left to go.

  I could feel his muscles tensing and knew he was about to cum. Moving up on his shaft, giving me more room to swallow it all down, I pumped his cock and massaged his soft, velvety balls with my hands as I sucked him as hard as I could.

  Finally, my efforts were rewarded, bringing up a huge gush of sweet cum from his cock into my mouth, where I swallowed every last drop. Gasping for breath, I collapsed against him, laying my cheek against his belly with my hand still firmly wrapped around his throbbing shaft.

  Gaining a second wind, I turned over onto my back, spreading my legs and opening my pussy with my fingers to ease the way for his cock as he entered me.

  “No, not like that,” he said softly.

  Taking me by the hips, he gently turned me over, so that I was on all fours. He pushed the hem of my dress up over my hips, so it met my lower back.

  He now had full access to my pussy and ass, and I secretly hoped he would take both. First my pussy and then my asshole, filling them with his wonderful cock and then his warm cum as we came together in sweet unison.

  Rather than his cock, he slipped in two fingers, playing and pumping until I had another massive orgasm.

  Despite my impatience to feel him deep inside me, I couldn’t help but appreciate the thought of him making sure I was wet and ready for him. I’d given myself over to him, and
he seemed to know that, but he wasn’t going to abuse that fact, instead making sure that everything we did was good for me too.

  Sean lowered his head and licked me clean, bringing me to another ridiculous climax. Had I not just cum so many times, my pussy would be aching for attention. As it was, it was only a mental longing, but it was no less urgent.

  “Please, fuck me,” I begged, letting him know it really was okay.

  “Anything for you, darlin’,” Sean obliged, easing the flared head between my silken pink pussy lips.

  After a short pause to make sure I was okay, he kept going, stroking my lower back with his free hand as he went.

  “Breathe, Darcy, nice and slow.”

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath through my nose, letting it out slowly through my mouth, feeling every inch as he entered me, his massive cock filling every centimeter I had to spare.

  “Fuck,” I gasped.

  “You okay?”

  “Yes, please, fuck me!”

  Taking me at my word, Sean grabbed hold of my hips, helping to hold my dress in place at the same time, and started to move. My tight pussy slowly adjusted to being filled up so completely.

  He’d only gone in with about half his full length, but I really couldn’t have handled any more. I was thrilled with what I had, as shown by the sounds I made as he deftly fucked me.

  Matching his speed and depth to where I was at any given moment, he never exceeded my limits or went too easy on me for it to stop being fun.

  After what seemed like hours of the most beautiful fucking, and also after I had had a whole bunch of orgasms, a familiar tension entered his cock, and I knew he was about to explode. Carefully easing out of me, he brought his cock around to my mouth and fed me his delicious cum.

  As though reading my mind, Sean assumed the position once more, licking first my pussy and then my asshole as he fingered me at the same time. It wasn’t long before I was more than ready to try anal for the very first time. With a deep breath to keep calm, I stretched out my asshole with both hands and waited for first contact.

  Sean was even more gentle than he’d been entering my pussy, working the head of his cock in, stopping regularly to ask if I was okay. I’d understood the head was the most difficult part. Once that was in, the shaft was a lot easier.