Single Dad Next Door: A Fake Marriage Romance Page 11

  His hands snap me out of my thoughts. Big, strong, calloused hands exploring my body reverently. The heavy, fast hunger of our kisses seems to have subsided. Now he moves his hands and eyes over me inch by inch, as if in wonder. His touch leaves a wake of tingling pleasure behind, and his eyes burn hot paths across my skin, heightening my arousal with every passing second.

  He presses my legs apart and I can feel the cool air against my hot opening. I’m embarrassed by how wet I already am for him. More wet than I’ve ever been. Hotter than I’ve ever been. My core clenches with need, clit throbbing and aching for friction. For release.

  He doesn’t make me wait.

  He slides a hand up my inner thigh and finds the heat of my core, spreading my wetness until his fingers glide effortlessly across me. Within seconds, I realize he’s not just good with his hands. He’s a master. I can’t even tell exactly what’s he’s doing, but it feels like heaven. Somehow he’s simultaneously curling two fingers against my G-spot and circling my clit with his thumb and forefinger.

  I’ve never found being fingered very appealing because guys before him always managed to make it seem like they were digging for spare change. Reid couldn’t be more different. His fingers are magic. Not even a minute into his attentions, and I feel the building pressure of release threatening to come at any moment. I push it back, not wanting him to see how quickly he can bring me to climax.

  He kisses a hot path up my chest, neck, behind my ear, and finally to my waiting lips. All the while his fingers move blindingly against me, drawing more pleasure from me than I knew I was capable of feeling. The weight of his body on top of me feels good. Comforting. Protective. I claw my fingers into his hard back, probably leaving red lines, but not caring.

  “You’re so good,” I groan into his neck.

  “You like having your fiancé’s fingers in your pussy?” he asks through gritted teeth.

  My fiancé. Why does it sound less like a game now when he says it? Why is he dangling it in front of me? And why the hell is the idea so tantalizing?

  “Yes,” I say. “God. Yes.”

  He pulls his hand away from me, leaving me feeling empty and hollow in his absence. My entire body is on overdrive. My skin tingles from head to toe. My core is throbbing, almost physically hurting from how badly I need it to be filled by him. Reid moves me with confident hands, positioning me so I’m straddling his face as he lays on his back. I don’t even spare a thought of embarrassment for having my ass right in his face.

  With most guys, I would worry they might spot some imperfection in my most private places and be turned off. With Reid? He’s a different creature entirely. I can’t explain how I know it, but there’s no shame with a man like Reid. There’s no hiding. He consumes. He devours. And right now, he wants me. There’s no imperfection in his eyes. I’m the object of his desire. Knowing that give me such a sense of freedom and arousal. It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt. I can be free with him. Here. Now. I can be myself, I can let go. I can surrender, for once.

  I get my first real look at his cock and I actually put a hand to my mouth in shock. “Oh my God,” I say.

  Reid responds by gripping my hips and pulling me down so I’m sitting on his face. His tongue and mouth are just as talented as his fingers, maybe more so. I gasp, falling forward, right above his cock. I grip it at the base, marveling at how thick and big it is. I was too drunk to remember our first time, and I barely got a glimpse of his cock the second time. Now I’m not surprised I was a little sore the following day.

  I’ve never really been aroused by the idea of giving a blowjob, but like everything else, it’s different with Reid. Even though his tongue is doing sinful things between my legs, making me weak, I want nothing more than to take his cock as far into my mouth as I can. My hands feel so small around it as I start stroking, resting my elbows on his hard stomach and using both hands to stroke its length. I love how he shudders at my touch. When I kiss a slow path from the base of his cock to the head, he sucks in a quick breath, tongue motionless inside me until I plunge the velvety head of his cock inside my mouth, swirling my tongue around the sensitive rim.

  He grunts something into my pussy, but I can’t make it out.

  My attention shifts between the explosion of pleasure between my legs and the job of pleasing him as well as I can. I work my hands up and down his cock, sucking, kissing, and moving my lips across him. I lose myself in the motions, focusing more and more of my attention on holding back the climax begging to crash over me. I hold it back just to prove I can. I may be turned on by the idea of surrendering to him and letting him do what he wants with me, but I want to prove I can hold my own with him as well.

  “Fuck,” he says breathlessly, pulling away from me. “On your knees, sweetheart. I’m going to fill you so fucking deep you’ll feel it for weeks.”

  I obey, moving off of him and settle on my knees, waiting for him to fill me.

  He moves behind me, sighing deeply. “You’re so fucking sexy. You know that? I could look at that ass all night.”

  “You better hurry up and fuck me,” I say over my shoulder. “I need you inside me. Now.”

  My words light something hot and fiery in his eyes. He bites his lip, smirking as he grips me tight by the hips. He thrusts into me in one smooth motion, driving his cock inside me to the hilt. I gasp, trying to arch my back, but his strong hand presses the small of my back down, forcing me to stay relaxed. His other hand still grips my hip tightly as he starts to find a rhythm inside me.

  “Fuck,” he groans. “Why are we pretending?”

  “What?” I ask as his hips slap against my ass again and again, rocking me forward with each impact. My vision is blurring from the pleasure and I can barely hold myself up on my arms.

  “To be, ugh,” he pauses, holding himself deep inside me and splaying his hand across the smooth skin of my back before slapping my ass hard enough to make me yelp. “To be engaged,” he finishes. “Just fucking marry me for real.”

  My eyes are squeezed shut and I’m gripping the covers like a lifeline. My world is in the entry and withdrawal of his impossibly perfect cock. His words are barely registering. My senses are completely and totally overwhelmed. All I know is I can’t hold back this orgasm any longer. It breaks against me like a tidal wave, crashing through my defenses, flooding my system with perfect and absolute bliss.

  “Yes,” I gasp. “Yes! God, Reid. Yes!”

  He slams into me, cock pulsing as he cums deep inside me.

  15

  Reid

  I stay up most of the night making the ring. My mind keeps replaying the moment. I asked her to marry me for real and she fucking loved it. There’s a nagging doubt in the back of my mind that I should have asked her in a calmer moment, when I could be more sure that she really meant it. That I really meant it. I’ve been pushing things forward with Sandra fast. Maybe too fast. I haven’t even had time to tell her about my grandfather’s will. I’ve seen enough now to know my feelings for her don’t have shit to do with the will. Even if the will said I would lose my garage if I was married with two kids at thirty five, I’d still want this. She’s the one, and I don’t need to spend another minute with her to know that.

  Hell, I knew it before I was willing to admit it to myself. I just need to be straight with her and tell her about the stipulation in my grandfather’s will. She needs to hear it from me, or she’s going to think I’m using her and who knows what kind of future we’ll have then. If I marry her and if she really is pregnant, I know I can keep my shop. And I’ve cooked up a little plan for her to keep her bakery, too, but I still need to iron out the details. Everything will be perfect.

  The ring is just temporary, and I’ll need to send out for a stone, but it’ll do for now. Besides, her parents are expecting to see a ring. Sandra will understand the need for a little bit of rushing. I can get her something more permanent in a few weeks. I look down at the simple ring in my hands. I can hardly believe I’m doing th
is.

  On one hand, I honestly don’t know if Sandra was really accepting my proposal last night or just lost to her pleasure. Everyone in town may think just because I’m strong that I’m stupid, but I’m not. I know she might have just been into the moment. But damn it, I want to marry her. I know it in my heart. In my soul. I want it. I don’t care if that’s stupid or foolish of me. Whether she meant it or not last night, I’m going to find out for sure today.

  Once I get Roman out of bed, we head over to Sandra’s place. I freeze in my tracks as soon as we step outside. Mark’s truck is parked out front. When we reach the front door, I hear voices from inside. Mark’s voice. Shit.

  I let myself and Roman in.

  “...just thought you should know,” says Mark, turning to leave.

  When he turns sideways, I see Sandra’s face for the first time. Her red, tear-stained face.

  I stop Mark with a raised finger and a warning look. I turn to Roman, controlling my voice as much as I can. “Can you run back to the house and grab daddy’s jacket, Bud? I forgot it.”

  “Sure!” says Roman.

  He scurries outside and I advance on Mark. I grip his dress shirt and pin him to the wall. “What the fuck did you do to her?”

  Mark looks down his nose at me, somehow managing to look like he thinks he’s superior even when I could break his teeth and there’s nothing he could do about it. “I just told her the truth, big brother.”

  I let him go, feeling a stabbing pain in my chest. “Get out,” I say to him.

  “I was already leaving, asshole. Enjoy.”

  The door slams behind him and I’m left facing Sandra, who’s eyes are brimming with tears. “You can get out too,” she says, voice thick with emotion.

  “Sandra…”

  “Leave!” she screams, throwing a vase towards me. It narrowly misses my head and smashes against the wall.

  I step outside, fingering the ring in my pocket and finding Roman hustling toward me, breathless and hoisting my jacket over his head like some kind of prize. “Come on, Bud. Miss Sandra isn’t feeling well. We gotta let her rest.”

  His face falls and he steps in beside me. “Should we get her some soup?”

  “Nah, Bud. I don’t think she wants company right now.”

  “What about Alfred and Collette?” asks Roman.

  “I’m going to pay them a visit and let them know how she’s feeling. I’ll call Lyla and drop you off at her place. Okay?”

  “Okay,” says Roman.

  An hour later I’m knocking on the door of the bed and breakfast Alfred and Collette rented out for themselves. Alfred opens the door. He’s already dressed sharply with a velvety robe and some strange, puffy scarf draped around his neck and tucked inside the robe.

  “Reid! So good to see you,” he says, reaching out and shaking my hand while clasping my forearm with his other hand, like we’re old buds.

  I’m wearing the goofy getup of his kind. A dress shirt, dress pants, hair slicked to the side. I feel like a dressed up monkey, but whether Sandra wants me in her life or not, it’s worth it for her. I’ll play whatever game I have to. I’ll embarrass myself as much as I have to. I just don’t want her to get hurt, and I know how much her parents opinion of her matters, even if she won’t admit it to herself.

  “I came by to let you know that my dear Sandra isn’t feeling up to snuff today.”

  Alfred makes a face, nodding and clapping my shoulder. “Well, women these days don’t have the constitutions they used to.”

  I force a smile. “I imagine not. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that you may not want to pay her a visit until the coast is clear.” I glance over my shoulder and make a show of looking discreet. “It’s like World War III over there. Wouldn’t want to muck up the Italian leather on your shoes, right?”

  Alfred leans conspiratorially close, chuckling and nudging me. “Certainly not! You’ll let me know when we can pay another visit though, won’t you? Collette was charmed by you and that boy of yours. She has been talking about you two all day.”

  I smile. “I’ll let you know as soon as it’s safe. ”

  I just wish I knew when it would be safe.

  16

  Sandra

  Jennifer and Lauren are over, doing their best to comfort me. To be honest though, the Cheetos and ice cream are doing a much better job of it than they are.

  “You don’t think the Cheetos kind of, I don’t know, clash with the ice cream?” asks Lauren.

  “No,” I say, popping a big, fat, puffy cheeto into my mouth and following it with a spoon of Rocky Road ice cream. Rocky Road. How appropriate. Except the road I’m on is more like a cliff. And I’ve already driven over the edge.

  “Men are assholes,” says Jennifer.

  “Obviously,” agrees Lauren.

  “And Reid Riggins is the king of them,” I add. “But what am I supposed to do if he comes back?”

  “You gouge the eyes and kick for the crotch,” says Lauren simply.

  Jennifer and I laugh.

  “He’s not a sexual predator,” I say. “He’s just a selfish, cold-hearted, manipulative asshole.”

  “Jeez, don’t hold anything back,” says Jennifer. “Is he really that bad? I mean, I know this isn’t what you want to hear right now, but did you ask him if that was why he proposed? You know, the whole contract thing?”

  “Of course it was,” snaps Lauren. “He just shows up and gives her the sex of her life and tricks her into agreeing to his proposal while using his magic penis to persuade her.”

  The anger she manages to infuse into such a ridiculous statement makes Jennifer and I laugh again.

  “It was pretty magical,” I say, smirking.

  “Stop it!” says Lauren. “You’re letting his penis distract you from what’s important here.”

  “What’s that?” I ask, licking my spoon. Trying to convince myself to hate Reid Riggins is both the easiest and the hardest thing in the world, because as soon as my hatred for him reaches a boiling point, it somehow shifts effortlessly into sexual frustration, and all I want to do is dig my fingernails into his back and… well, not do anything that will help the problem at hand.

  “You know what it is,” says Lauren. “You need to move on. Let him see you with some other guy to get him jealous and show him what an idiot he was for trying to play you.”

  “That sounds just as manipulative as what he did,” says Jennifer.

  Lauren gives her a dry look. “That’s kinda the point.”

  “I don’t know,” I say. “The last thing I want right now is to get involved in another relationship.”

  Lauren sighs, moving behind me and massaging me like she’s my coach or something. “Young Sandra, where did I go so wrong in training you?”

  “I’m a few years older than you…”

  “Shut up,” snaps Lauren. “The point is you still have so much to learn. This isn’t about what you want. This is about teaching him a lesson. Guys like him are used to getting away with crap like this. They just wave their big, sexy penises around and everyone acts like nothing happened.”

  “Uh,” says Jennifer, covering a grin with her hand.

  I laugh. “I’m pretty sure it doesn’t work that way.”

  “It basically does,” snaps Lauren. “So we’re going to teach him a lesson.”

  Jennifer narrows her eyes at Lauren. “You seem really, really motivated to get back at Reid. Did he do something to you like, I don’t know, did he strangle your puppy when you were a kid or something?”

  Lauren crosses her arms. “He hurt my friend. I mean, once we get him back and justice has been served and an appropriate mourning period has passed, he’ll be on the market again, too.”

  “Lauren!” says Jennifer, slapping her arm.

  “No,” I say. “It’s okay. He is on the market, as far as I’m concerned. You can have him. I really couldn’t care less about Reid Riggins and his stupid magic penis. I’m totally over him.”

&nb
sp; I spend the new few days trying to come to terms with the emotional whip lash I’ve been through. Just when it seemed like everything was finally going my way, it was snatched away from me. First the bakery, then Reid. Now I feel like I’ve just been going through the motions, waiting for the day to come when my shop gets demolished. And the whole time I’ve had to deal with David Cumberfield’s never-ending phone calls. He hasn’t stopped begging to speak with me since he arrived, so I finally agreed to let him come say what he had to say just to get him to back off.

  He pulls up to my house around six, and I greet him wearing the most conservative clothing I could find. He gets out of his Jaguar with a cocky smirk on his face. His clothes, as usual, are without a crease or wrinkle. His hair is perfectly in place. And, as usual, he looks ridiculous. I don’t know what I ever saw in him, other than an opportunity to please my parents.

  David takes two steps toward me and then freezes, looking to his right. Before I can say a word, I follow David’s gaze and notice Reid storming toward us. He’s not wearing a shirt, and my memory flashes with involuntary images of the last time I was with him, when he took me on the bed. My core clenches just at the thought of him, heating with need. I try to push it all out of my head, but fail. My traitorous body responds to him like no other guy, and there seems to be nothing I can do to stop it.

  “This guy again?” asks David. “You really should build a fence, dear.”

  Reid throws a greasy rag over his shoulder and advances on David, making the height and weight advantage he has over David all the more apparent. “You get back in your fancy fucking Jaguar and leave. If you so much as lay a hand on my fiancée, I’ll fucking break you.”

  “Fiancée?” asks David with a smile of disbelief. “Is he serious?” he asks me.

  Does Reid really think we’re engaged? Even after I called him on his bullshit and the way he was using me. He really thinks I’m going to marry him? It was ridiculous in the first place, even before I caught him in his lie. “No,” I say. “He’s not serious. He’s delusional.”