Fake Marriage (Contemporary Romance Box Set) Page 8

  Her cleft rubbed over my painfully hard dick. It was then I realized I didn’t have a condom.

  “Fuck.” I stilled.

  “Don’t stop.” Her pussy teased my cock head.

  I gripped her hips. “I don’t have a condom.”

  She stopped and looked at me. “I’m on the pill. I have been since… Well, a long time.” Her expression suggested there was a story there, but that could wait.

  “I’m healthy, Sinclair. I’d never hurt you.” That was a stupid thing to say because I had hurt her.

  She took the head of my dick inside her. “I trust you. Do you trust me?”

  “With everything I’ve got.” Those weren’t just words either. Even after what I’d done to her, I knew she was a good woman. She was a person of honesty and integrity.

  She sank down over me and holy fuck was she tight. Stars burst behind my eyes as pleasure sparked through my entire body. I was going to come any minute.

  “Wait.” I wrapped my arm around her to keep her from riding me.

  “What’s wrong?” Her hands gripped my shoulders. Even holding her still, her pussy massaged my dick and it was fucking awesome.

  “I don’t want to come too fast,” I panted as I worked to get my libido under control.

  “Coming is the point.”

  I grinned up at her. “Kiss me first.”

  She shook her head like she thought I was nuts, but thankfully, she did as I asked, her lips fusing to mine. I continued to hold her still, pouring everything I had into that kiss.

  How many times had I imagined this moment or one like it when I was alone in the desert? Or even in my shower, seeking release? And now here she was. Sinclair in the flesh. Her body wrapped around mine bringing me mind-boggling pleasure.

  I worked to inventory everything about this moment. The taste of her lips. The feel of her hands roaming my body. The tightness of her pussy squeezing in a dizzying rhythm around my dick. I wanted to remember this forever. It was possible this was the last time we’d be like this and I wanted to emblaze every aspect of this moment onto my brain.

  I slid my thumb between our bodies and flicked it over her clit. She gasped and her pussy gripped me tighter, making my brain nearly explode.

  “Come on me, Sinclair. I want to feel you come.” Gritting my teeth, I rubbed her clit as she rocked back and forth over my cock.

  She still made those mewing sounds as she made her ascent toward pleasure. I watched her face, loving how beautiful it was as her release approached.

  “Oh God, Wyatt…” She tried to pull out of my grip to ride me, but I knew I’d never last and tonight, I was going to give her two orgasms. This might have been our one and only night together, and I was going to make damn sure she never forgot it. Yes, I was selfish and arrogant, but my goal was to ruin any other man for her. She might move on, but she’d always remember that Wyatt Jones was the only man who could fully satisfy her.

  12

  Sinclair

  The last dick I’d had inside me was Wyatt’s. He was the only man I’d ever been with. Not that I hadn’t ever been open to meeting someone new because I had been. That was why I went on the pill after Alyssa was born. I didn’t want to risk another unplanned pregnancy. Not that I wasn’t happy to be Alyssa’s mother. She was a gift. In fact, believing I’d never see Wyatt again, she was a living reminder of the love I’d had for him.

  But a few years ago, I realized that it was possible I’d never meet anyone new. The few men who showed interest, like Mayor Valentine, just didn’t do it for me. So, for the last ten years, when I felt the urge, I took a bath, had some wine, and would take care of orgasms all on my own.

  But now, I was getting the real thing and it was even better than I remembered. Wyatt’s body was like chiseled granite. His dick was still long and hard. I could feel every ridge of it as I rocked against his thumb rubbing my clit.

  “I need to come,” I gasped as I tried to get loose of his arm banding around me. I needed to feel his cock sliding in and out. But he held me close.

  “I’m going to give you two orgasms tonight,” he said. His voice was rough, like he was holding back. “Give me the first one, Sinclair.” He dipped his head and sucked my nipple into his mouth as he continued to rub my hard clit. His dick pulsed inside me and I was off like a rocket.

  I cried out as pleasure broke through, flooding through my body. I rocked and convulsed, moaning as my orgasm careened through me.

  “Fuck yeah…fuck yeah… God, you come so hard.”

  I let out shuddering breaths as the orgasm subsided. He said he’d give me two, which wasn’t something he’d done before. I wasn’t sure my heart, lungs and pussy could take another one.

  I guessed he learned some skills in the ten years he’d been gone. I hated the idea that he’d been with other women, but he was a man after all. A sexy man at that. It probably hadn’t been hard to find a willing woman when he had the urge.

  His head rested on my chest as he took in a few deep breaths. His dick felt gargantuan inside me. It had to be painful for him.

  “I’ve had a fantasy,” he murmured against my chest.

  “Oh?”

  He looked up at me, his hands kneading my nipples again. And goodness, if my pussy didn’t flare to life again.

  “Of you riding me under this oak tree.”

  “I’d have just done that if you’d let me.”

  He sucked one nipple deep into his mouth and then let it go with a wet pop. “I’m going to let you now. But you have to come on me again. I want you to take me over.”

  He lay back and slid both his hands up my thighs. He pushed them open, using his thumb to rub my clit again, and the other thumb rubbed along the inside of my pussy lips. His dick twitched and pulsed inside me.

  “Touch your tits.”

  I’d never done that in front of him before and I felt a little self-conscious.

  It must have shown in my face because he said, “Do you ever touch yourself?”

  I nodded.

  “Do you touch your tits?”

  “Yes.” Feeling more confident, I slid my hands up over my belly to cup my breasts.

  “What do you think about?” he asked, his thumbs still rubbing, his dick still pulsing.

  “You.”

  “What am I doing?”

  “Fucking me.”

  He groaned.

  I pinched my nipples and I felt it straight to my center. “I need to ride you, Wyatt.”

  “Do what you want, Sinclair. Take me to heaven, baby.”

  I rose up on my knees and then lowered down. I wanted to take my time, but each time I rode him, the need to pick up the pace increased exponentially.

  “Oh God…” I leaned forward, pressing my hands on his chest as I let my body take over and do what it wanted. I was wild with need, riding him hard and fast, my pussy coiling tighter and tighter around him.

  “Yes…more…faster…baby… Fuck, I’m gonna come.” His fingers gripped my hips tight as he urged me to move faster. His hips bucked up, our bodies slamming together.

  I cried out as he thrust up and everything in my body exploded. My pussy clamped down tight, exquisite pleasure radiated out until I was high on it.

  A low feral growl tore from Wyatt’s mouth as he thrust up again and warmth filled my body.

  “Fuck, keep moving…keep moving…”

  My thighs burned, but I did as he asked, riding him, drawing out his orgasm until, after a final thrust, his body went boneless underneath me.

  I was spent as well, collapsing on his chest where I could feel his speeding heartbeat. For a moment, it was ten years ago, and Wyatt and I were cementing our love with our bodies. But as quickly as the memory flashed, reality set in.

  I just fucked my daughter’s father.

  I just fucked the man I never told he was a father.

  What was I doing? I’d gotten caught up in the moment. I suspected the booze hadn’t helped. My heart had gone out to him to hear his
story. I suspected things hadn’t been great at home, but I never realized there’d been domestic abuse. Why hadn’t he told me he was afraid his father would send him to jail when he came that night to run away? Then again, maybe it was better that he hadn’t. If I’d gone with him, where would we be? He said once he joined the military he was gone a lot, so Alyssa and I would have been left alone in a strange place.

  Still, I hurt for the boy and young man he’d been. I’d only meant to offer comfort, but once I kissed him, my body demanded more. And now here I was, naked under the oak tree in a more precarious situation than I’d been in before.

  I couldn’t get involved with him. Not again. It would just complicate everything. If it was just me, I might take the risk, but I had Alyssa to think about. I could survive if Wyatt ran off again, but would Alyssa if she knew and loved him? She often spoke about not having a father, what would it do to her to know her father couldn’t handle it and ran off?

  Perhaps it was unfair to think Wyatt could do that, but he’d done it once before and I wouldn’t put Alyssa through that. I couldn’t quite bring myself to call what just happened a mistake, but it couldn’t happen again. It couldn’t lead to his thinking we could rekindle what we lost, even as my heart ached to have just that.

  I moved off him, reaching for my clothes. “I should get home.”

  He watched me as I pulled my shirt on and then buttoned it up. Finally, he joined me, slipping on his jeans and tugging on his t-shirt.

  “Thank you for the ride home.” I started walking to the house, worried he’d follow me there. When I reached the corner, I turned and saw him getting into his truck. A part of me was hurt that he hadn’t said anything. That he hadn’t followed me. But of course, this was better. What I needed to feel was relieved that he was letting this go.

  I hid in the shadows as he drove off, and then went up the porch steps, checking to make sure my clothing didn’t look like I’d taken it off to fuck Wyatt by the river, and then walked inside.

  “Hi, Mama,” Alyssa said, sitting on the floor by the coffee table. She had paper and colored pencils out for drawing what she always drew; a horse. She looked up at me and I saw the green eyes that Wyatt had given her.

  “Hey, baby. How was your day?”

  “Good. Me and Grandma planted a bunch of vegetables in the garden today.” Alyssa held up her paper. “Look what I made.”

  “It’s lovely.” I went over and kissed her on the head. “Where’s your grandma?”

  “She’s making dinner. I already set the table.” She pulled out another piece of paper and started on a new drawing.

  “Is Grandpa home yet?

  “Yep. He’s changing.”

  The door from the kitchen swung open. “Oh, there you are, Sinclair.” My mother looked at her watch. “You’re late. Is everything okay?”

  “Everything is fine. Is there something I can do to help with supper?”

  My mother brushed her hands down her apron. “No. As soon as your dad is down, supper will be ready.”

  Within five minutes, we were seated around the table having chicken, potatoes and green beans.

  “What made you late?” my mother asked, handing my father the bowl of roasted potatoes.

  “I had a drink with Trina.”

  “Did you see Ryder? How's he doing?” my father asked. The family really only saw Ryder on Sundays for our regular family dinner.

  “He’s the same.” I debated on whether I should tell them about Wyatt. I decided it would be weird if they found out later that I’d been there when Wyatt showed up at Salvation Station and didn’t say anything. “Wyatt Jones came in.”

  My mother stopped mid-fork full of green beans. “Really? Oh, Peggy must be so happy to have him home.”

  I had no idea.

  “Did he come to take over the farm?” my father asked.

  “Yes, but his is one that Stark and Associates has targeted to buy.”

  My mother’s face turned sad. “Are they selling? I wouldn’t blame them. Frank let it go for so long and I know it was hard for her.”

  “Wyatt says no. He wants to fight it. He hired a lawyer.” I looked down in case my face made a distasteful expression at the idea of him spending time with Jeannette again. Stupid, I knew, considering I didn’t want Wyatt. Well I did, but I shouldn’t.

  “Good for him. I always thought he had a good head on his shoulders despite his father. I suppose I don’t blame him for running off the way he did.”

  I frowned. “Did you know he was abused?”

  My mother cast a glance at my father. It was one of those looks that said it was impolite to gossip about other people’s business.

  My father shrugged. “I think it’s a well-known secret that Peggy was abused. I couldn’t say about Wyatt.”

  “Why didn’t anyone do anything?” I was horrified that people would know Peggy was being hit and didn’t do anything to stop it.

  “She didn’t want it.” My mother looked at my daughter. “Did you tell your mom what we did today?” That effectively cut off the discussion.

  I remembered Wyatt telling me his mother got mad at him when he tried to protect her, it was probable that she hadn’t wanted help.

  “Yep. Who’s Wyatt?” Alyssa asked.

  It was the first time I’d ever heard her say her father’s name, and guilt lanced through me at what I was doing.

  “He was your uncle Ryder’s best buddy growing up,” my father said. “One day he hightailed it out of town and no one knew what happened to him.”

  “What did happen to him? Do you know, Sinclair?” my mother asked.

  “He joined the military, but didn’t re-enlist when his mother told him his father left and the farm was struggling.”

  “So, he’s home to stay. I’m so glad for Peggy.”

  “Let’s just hope he and Ryder don’t go getting into trouble again. I swear those boys were like hellions,” Dad added.

  “What’s a hellion?” Alyssa asked.

  “Troublemakers.” I nodded to her plate. “Eat your green beans.”

  She made a face. “Green stuff is never yummy.”

  “But it’s good for you,” my mother told her.

  “Here, put more butter on it. Butter makes everything palatable,” my father said, handing Alyssa the plate with the butter from a local dairy.

  “What’s palatable?” she asked, cutting a square.

  “Easy to eat,” I said.

  “We should invite Peggy and Wyatt for Sunday dinner,” my mother said.

  I choked on the water I was sipping.

  “Are you okay?” my father asked.

  Alyssa patted my back.

  “Wrong pipe,” I managed. In that moment, I realized just how complicated my life had become. If Wyatt stayed, he’d be a part of the community. We’d see him everywhere. I wouldn’t be able to avoid him. My conscience told me I shouldn’t avoid him. In fact, it said I should drive over to his place and tell him the truth right now. But my car was downtown because I’d had too much to drink to drive home. I’d have to catch a ride to work with my dad tomorrow when he went to work running the store.

  I knew that was a lame excuse, but as I watched Alyssa spread copious amounts of butter on her green beans, I knew I had to protect her from heartache. If Stark got his way and took the Jones’ farm, I couldn’t imagine Wyatt hanging around. It was one thing to leave me, but I wouldn’t let Alyssa feel the pain of rejection and abandonment.

  13

  Wyatt

  That night at the oak tree, moving inside of Sinclair felt like a dream. Like one of the many I’d had since leaving Salvation. Now, days later, I was back to jerking off to the image of Sinclair riding my dick in my morning shower, and working the ranch all day.

  I was still waiting for Jeannette to complete paperwork to start the process of securing me as the owner of the farm, but luckily, none of Stark’s letters or goons had shown up.

  In the afternoon, I headed out to the farmin
g cooperative store to buy some new feeders and buckets. I didn’t think my father had ever replaced the ones he inherited. I also picked up a couple of new bedding forks and some saddle soap.

  “Now that Julie is gone and not teaching riding, I think I might have to sell my ponies.” I overheard Jasper Long saying to another man who seemed familiar but I couldn’t place. I’d known Jasper forever as most people in Salvation did. His family had been around about as long as mine had in Salvation. His daughter Julie had been a few years behind me in school.

  “How’s the farm doing?” the other man asked.

  “We’re hanging in there. Wish the price of soybeans would go up, but I think we’ll be alright. I tell ya’, farming isn’t what it used to be though. Used to be people supported family farms.”

  “I’ve actually been considering selling to Stark,” the other man said. “If he succeeds in building a prison, our land value will go down and I can’t afford that.”

  I picked up the saddle soap and headed up the aisle toward the two men.

  “Well look what the wind blew back into town,” Jasper said when he saw me.

  I smiled, feeling good that he remembered me. “Hi, Mr. Long. How are you?”

  “Oh, I can’t complain…Well, I could. Sam, you remember Frank Jones? This is his son Wyatt. Where you been, boy?”

  “Military.”

  “What branch?” Sam asked.

  “Army. Special Forces.”

  Jasper whistled. “Good for you. You done your country and Salvation proud. You home to take over the farm from your dad?”

  I nodded. “That’s the plan.”

  “Has Stark been stalking you to sell?” Sam asked.

  “He has. He doesn’t seem to take no for an answer though.”

  “He’s a wily one.” Jasper nodded. “How are you going to fight it?”

  “The mayor’s office is putting together some sort of-”

  Sam rolled his eyes. “They don’t give a shit about us. I wouldn’t put it past Valentine or any of them to be getting some sort of kickback from Stark.”