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His Holiday Girlfriend: Fake Love, Real Christmas  Novel Cover

His Holiday Girlfriend: Fake Love, Real Christmas

When Emma Walsh catches her boyfriend cheating just days before their holiday getaway, she's left heartbroken, homeless and jobless. Stranded in New York City with nothing but her luggage, she wanders into a bar where one reckless night with a brooding stranger changes everything. Liam O'Connor, an emotionally guarded man who is a brilliant lawyer and a single father, had promised his mother that he would return with his girlfriend. With Christmas fast approaching, he needs a fake girlfriend to survive the holidays back home. And Emma needs a fresh start with a little revenge. The deal is simple: fake smiles, pretend love with no real feelings. But when Emma meets his adorable daughter, bonds with his mother, who is warm-hearted, and starts to notice the cracks in Liam's cold exterior, the difference between real and fake starts to blur. Especially when his ex returns and secrets from the past threaten to uncover everything.  Can two broken hearts find something good under the mistletoe?
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Chapter 6

AFTER THE STORM

Liam's POV

The buzz of my phone in my pocket nearly made me swerve off the road. Glancing down, I saw it was the station calling. 

My stomach sank, a punch of adrenaline hitting me. Orla... Emma... what has happened now? I twisted the throttle, the wind whipping my face as I sped toward the station.

When I skidded into the parking lot, heart hammering, I half expected chaos, my daughter crying, my family shouting, Emma looking frantic. But what I found instead stopped me dead.

They were all sitting there, calm. Too calm. Emma, Siobhán, Orla, and the other girl with her mother were lined up on the bench, as if it were just another afternoon. 

And Orla, my little girl, was chattering non-stop, her tiny face glowing as she recounted the events of the park.

Emma.

Of course, it was Emma. She had stood up for my daughter, my little girl whom I would move heaven and earth to protect. I could see her profile from the door, the way she sat straight-backed, eyes glinting, hands folded neatly in her lap. Not a hint of fear. Not a tremor.

Why the hell did she do it?

Her courage pulled at me in a way I couldn't name. It wasn't just about protecting Orla. She could have walked away, disappeared back into her life, stayed out of this. 

But she hadn't. She had gone headfirst into confrontation, defended my daughter, and faced a stranger and her angry mother without flinching.

I walked up to the officer in charge, my face unreadable. 

"What happened?" My voice was calm, even though the rage behind it was coiling tight in my chest.

"Nothing serious, Mr Liam O'Connor," he said, glancing at Emma and Orla. "Just a little playground disagreement. Emma here... she handled it like a pro."

I didn't move my gaze from her. My daughter's words filled the room, echoing like a trumpet in my mind. 

"Emma stood up for me, Daddy! She's my friend!"

I swallowed. That little girl of mine... her sudden trust in Emma, her excitement in recounting the bravery, it stung me with a pride I couldn't put into words.

The other girl's mother was made to promise she'd caution her child and teach her better. And if something like that repeated again, it would be seen that she wasn't capable of training a child and her child would be taken away from her by the government.

As we left the station, driving through the familiar streets, my mind wouldn't stop replaying the scene. Emma had protected Orla, she had taken on the role of her defender. My thoughts kept drifting to her courage, her composure, and the way she seemed to make even chaos feel manageable.

Through the rear-view mirror, I stole a glance at her. She was unusually quiet, her head was slightly bowed, but there was an edge of something there that I couldn't name, something that made my chest tighten and my hands grip the wheel a little too hard. 

She wasn't afraid of me. Not really. And that made me... want her. I wanted her in a way I hadn't expected, even after the first night, even after everything.

When we got home, Mom practically burst from the kitchen. "Oh, Emma, that was wonderful! Standing up for Orla like that!"

Siobhán had, of course, called my mother and briefed her about the situation. 

"Oh, it was nothing." She replied to my mother, with a smile plastered on her face. 

"Someone needed to put that lady in her place. Her child can't go around making other kids uncomfortable."

I could see the subtle rise of her chest as she breathed, the faint flush on her cheeks. She had been on high alert for the station visit, and now that it was over, the tension lingered like perfume.

Just as Orla was recounting what had happened for the umpteenth time to my mother, I saw Emma walk upstairs quietly. 

Something about her retreat pulled at me, and I followed, silent, watching the way she moved, every step measured, yet fluid, the kind of movement that could hypnotise a man.

In the room, she turned to face me as I leaned in the doorway. 

"Why the sudden disappearance?" My voice was low, calm, but I could feel the tension building between us like a live wire.

"I... needed to rest," she said softly, a slight shrug. "Or a bath. To calm down."

I fixed my gaze on her, studying her expression. Her eyes avoided mine, but her lips had that soft, playful curve that dared me to step closer. 

"For defending my daughter," I said. "Thank you, Emma."

Her eyes flicked up, and for the first time that day, I saw a trace of vulnerability. 

"I thought... you'd be angry. That she was taken to the station because of me."

"Angry?" I stepped closer, watching her body respond subtly, almost instinctively. "You stood up for my daughter. That's... more than I expected." My voice dropped an octave, deliberately edged with desire.

She smiled softly, eyes darting down, then back to mine. The tension between us thickened, almost tangible, a storm coiling around us.

"You deserve a bath, I think," I murmured, voice low, heavy. "You've had quite a morning."

She turned, starting to undress. Even in the soft light, I saw the curve of her back, the sway of her hips, the gentle rise of her breasts as she moved. 

My chest tightened. I could feel the blood rushing through my veins. My body reacted before my mind had a chance to intervene.

I wanted her. Not just for her bravery, but for every inch of her that moved, every glance that held defiance, every smile that dared me to cross the line.

My eyes were fixed on her as I slowly followed her to the bathroom. I paused just inside the door taking in every detail as she stepped gently into the bath filled with steaming water. 

Then she turned to me, her eyes flickering with something daring. The same look that I'd seen in those eyes the first time we met at the club. 

And that was all it took for my restraint to vanish. I stepped into the bath, and took off my shirt, letting the heat between us swell. Looking down, I pressed my lips to hers, soft and teasing at first. 

Immediately, she responded, she opened her mouth, giving way for my tongue to ravage the inside of her mouth. She kisses me ferociously, matching my hunger.

My hands began trailing her body, exploring and tracing the curves of her back. I stopped below her buttocks, squeezing her soft flesh. She responded in kind by arching into me.

Just then, Emma began fondling my nipples simultaneously with her fingers. I could feel my c**k already about to break through my pants. It seemed like she knew and she unbuckled my belt, unzipped my trousers, freeing my c**k.

She stopped kissing me and shifted back, her eyes on my c**k. I noticed something shift in her eyes as she inhaled. 

A small gasp left my lips as she grabbed my c**k, giving it a gentle squeeze. She returned her gaze to me and slowly went to her knees. 

Emma stuck out her tongue, trailing the visible veins. From the top, down to the base. The soft trails left me breathing hard. Without warning, she took me in her mouth and she gagged when she tried to take all my length in at once. 

The few women I've had sex with in the past hadn't dared to talk half of my length in their mouths. But she took more than half of me in. 

Her eyes were still fixed on mine as she started sucking me faster. One of her hands was squeezing my balls while the other was wrapped around the base of my shaft. 

I felt tension build inside of me and my c**k grew larger. I knew that I was near. Immediately, I pulled out of her, my hands grabbed her to her feet and bent her over, her back towards me.

I placed her hands on the edge of the bath and I bent down. Her smooth, shaved p*ssy which was now glistening with her wetness, was staring at me. 

"Ahh, Liam." 

She moaned out the moment the tip of my tongue met her cl*t. The taste was still the same as the first time I had tasted her. I pulled her toward me and her soft a** rubbed on my face. 

I got engaged in sucking her. The more I sucked, the more her juice flowed and the more I licked them up. The tempo of her moans got higher. 

Suddenly, she pulled back, but my hands still held her thigh in place. She looked back at me and asked. 

"The door... my noise?" 

My lips cornered with a small grin. 

"It's moan-proofed," I replied, my voice dripping with humour.

I pulled her back into position and I heard her giggle as I resumed sucking her. Not long later, I noticed her legs were trembling. It started out lightly, but within seconds her legs began to tremble violently. 

I held her in place with one hand while the other went down, stroking my c**k that was in the water. Just like before, water began gushing out from her, and my stroke became faster. 

Just as I exploded into the bath, her trembling stopped. Gasping for air, she stood up and pressed her kiss on mine, kissing me and kicking the remains of her wetness on my lips. 

Emma led me out of the bathroom and back to the room. Her eyes were on me with a subtle, soft look on her face as she pushed me onto the bed. 

She climbed over me, straddling me, her lips made contact with mine again as we kissed faster and hungrier. As we kissed, she rubbed her wet p*ssy on my limp c**k, determined to bring it back to life, which happened in no second. 

Without wasting more time, she pushed my c**k inside her. Taking it one inch at a time while she rode me slowly. 

I remembered that first night we'd spent together, the way she had challenged and driven me to heights I hadn't known existed, the way she had overwhelmed me.

And now, she did it again, in her quiet, subtle way, each touch, each sigh, each whispered word pulling me closer to the edge.

And I couldn't resist. She was fire, a force of nature, and I wanted to consume her in every way I could without fear, without hesitation. 

She leaned in closer, and my lips traced between her neck and her ear. The places that made her shiver and tremble. She pressed against me, a silent plea plastered on her face as her erect nipples made contact with my chest.

Her hands found mine, guiding me to her breast. Every moment was drawn out, deliberately, each touch, each breath, each moan a slow burn that made time meaningless. 

She was more than desire, she was an obsession I didn't want to resist. She drove me wild, like she always did.

She began to slow down. I flipped her onto her back and thrust into her hard, building the tension all over again. I felt her tighten around me, her body pulling me deeper.

When the moment reached its peak, I pulled her close, our bodies pressed together, the room charged with heat, lust, and unspoken need.

Her touch, her scent, her presence consumed me entirely. My mind, my body, my soul-everything centred on her.

Then it all spilled over. I came hard, breathless, holding her as the world narrowed to us. When I finally looked at her face, I knew one thing for certain.

We were far from over.

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