Happily Ever After: A Contemporary Romance Boxed Set

by Piper Rayne

  I glance over at the clock on the nightstand. Three A.M. Okay. I’m still in my clothes. I need to change and maybe brush my teeth. My throat still feels scratchy, but I can tell it’s better.

  Man, it’s been a long time since I’ve had a reaction like that. If ever. I usually don’t have to worry too much. The things I’m allergic to are pretty distinct, and I know ahead of time. I wouldn’t have thought to put cinnamon in a chocolate cake. But fuck, before my throat started closing up, it was one of the best cakes that I’ve ever eaten. Point blank.

  The man certainly knew how to cook. And the success of his business couldn’t be denied. After tonight, I certainly couldn’t argue that he was here solely to steal Granny’s or to scam me.

  I sit up and freeze. Brandon is in the chair that I have on the opposite side of the room, completely asleep. Jack is sprawled on his chest, passed out too. I have to pause and process the shock that’s rolling through me right now.

  He’s still here.

  Oh fuck, I am in so much trouble. The memory swims to the surface of what I said to him right before I couldn’t keep my eyes open. I like you and I don’t know what to do about it.

  It was the truth. I did like him. I’d been fighting that attraction and the instant connection and lust I felt because I was afraid of what he could do to me. To my life, that was already in shambles. But as much as I hated to admit it, Dorothy was right. I would never be happy if I held on to everything that happened, and while all the stuff that had happened was utter bullshit, it shouldn’t get in the way of me trying to find something new.

  Especially when that new person was here, snuggling with my cat, after taking care of me in the middle of a drug-induced hangover. Technically that had been his fault to begin with, but I still didn’t mind. And clearly Jack approved of him.

  Time to woman up.

  Moving slowly so I don’t make much noise, I get out of bed, slowly pick Jack up off Brandon’s chest, and move him to the bed I bought for him. It sits in my window, not that he ever uses it. He liked to sleep with me, and every other night I was very okay with that. But for now, he needed to be in his own bed.

  He’s so deeply asleep that he barely even moves as I picked him up. Jack is part of my happiness too. From the moment I’d heard his little cries, he’d sunk his claws into my heart and not let go. Now I can’t imagine living here without the tiny patter of feet running behind me wherever I am.

  Since Brandon is asleep, I take the chance to look at him. Really look at him. He’s just as hot while he’s sleeping—of course he is. And yet it’s different seeing someone when they’re asleep. They’re relaxed and don’t have the same defenses that they do when they’re awake. No pretenses. Just who they are.

  Leaning closer to him, I kiss him softly. He startles awake before realizing that it’s me and relaxing. He makes a sound that sends heat flooding through my veins before pulling away. “You’re awake.”

  “I am.”

  I climb into his lap, straddling his legs and kissing him again. Brandon’s arms fall around me like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And it feels like that. Easy and right. Not to mention that his lips send sparkling, sunny light through my body.

  “You should be resting,” he says. “Since you almost died.”

  “I’m still here. Seizing the moment.”

  He chuckles, “Ellie.”

  “Brandon.” Nerves swim in my gut, because I’m about to take a leap and I’m not entirely sure if he’ll be there to catch me. “I’m only going back to bed if you come with me.”

  Even in the dim light of my room I can see the way his eyes darken. And we’re so close that I feel him harden through his jeans. “Are you sure?” His voice is low and rough. It runs down my spine and makes me shiver.

  “I’m sure.”

  Brandon kisses me, and this time there’s determined intent behind it. He stands, taking me with him and carrying me to my bed. We tumble onto it together, his lips already on my skin where my shirt is falling off my shoulder. Fuck, I love the way it feels.

  “Ellie,” he says. “Before we do this—”

  “What?”

  He stares at me. “I just want you to know that this has nothing to do with business. Tell me to fuck off and never set foot in Granny’s again, and I would still be right here. This is about me and you.”

  Yesterday I might not have believed him. Now I did. “I know.”

  “Good,” he says. “Now I’m going to do everything that I’ve been thinking about. Because you, Ellie Thompson, have been driving me fucking insane.”

  “Oh really? How?”

  He drew his lips across my jaw and down my neck. Across my skin and to the edge of my shirt. I don’t want anything between us, suddenly working to get my shirt off as quickly as possible. Brandon helps, looking down at me when I tossed my shirt aside.

  I’d intentionally dressed poorly for the dinner. To make him see that I wasn’t taking it seriously. And that included boring underwear. The bra that I had on was simple and black. And yet the way that Brandon was looking down at me made me feel like I was wearing the world’s sexiest lingerie.

  “By making me wonder what you look like under all these clothes,” he says softly. “By making me wonder what you taste like. By dancing into my dreams and making me hard as a fucking rock when I wake up.”

  As he speaks the last words he rocks his hips into mine, illustrating how hard he is now.

  His lips continue their journey downward to the edge of my bra, and that disappears too so he’s suddenly tasting my skin, mouth brushing across my nipples and making them hard.

  I arch into him, goosebumps rolling across me. It’s been so long since I felt like this—like the world was at the edge of my fingertips and that a single touch from a person was all I needed.

  Brandon’s mouth closes over my nipple, pulling a moan from me. He’s all heat and fire, tongue swirling and moving and tasting before he moves to my other breast and repeats it all. Back and forth until my nipples are so hard they nearly ache. Until the faintest brush of his teeth makes me shudder with need.

  He doesn’t move on right away either. The way someone else—the way Chris would have. I don’t want to think about him right now, but I can’t help it. In the beginning, it was like this. But that quickly faded into something standard and satisfactory for me. He always seemed to have a good time. But this…

  I’d missed this.

  Missed the feeling of light and breathless tension from the unknown of being with someone for the first time. And the hope that you would make something magical.

  Brandon presses a kiss directly to the center of my chest. “One more time,” he says. “Are you sure that you’re okay and that you want this?”

  “I said yes.”

  He makes sure that our faces are close before he speaks again. “I know you did. But I want to make sure. You were just in the hospital. The last thing I want is for you to wake up with regrets.”

  I smile at him, slowly running my hands up through his hair. “I promise,” I say. “No regrets for something that I wanted the first time I saw you out of a suit.”

  He groans and his mouth falls on mine, absolutely consuming me. The feelings he pulls out of my body with just a kiss are fucking unreal. And when he sinks back to my body to resume his journey downwards, I feel like completely out of control.

  Brandon reaches my hips, and together we work to get the yoga pants off my body. The panties come off too, and I don’t expect the reaction that I have. It’s anxiety. Brandon is the first since everything happened, and I didn’t realize that I would feel this…vulnerable.

  “Brandon,” I say, and he looks up at me. He must see something there because he pulls back and pulls his shirt over his head.

  Everything that I imagined about him is true. He has a body to kill for, honed by care and hours of hopefully kneading bread and other vigorous activities I’m sure that I’d enjoy watching.

  He’s watch
ing me carefully, taking in all of me. I can’t breathe. My heart is pounding in my chest.

  Leaning down, Brandon kisses low on my stomach, waking up butterflies of pleasure. “Do you trust me?”

  Did I?

  The question hangs for a long moment in my mind. I could tell him I changed my mind—that I didn’t want to do this. But I did. And as hard as it was for me to admit it, I did trust him. He was willing to walk away from everything just for me, and that meant everything.

  “Yes,” I breathe the word.

  “Then let me.”

  He doesn’t finish the sentence. Doesn’t have to. Let him make me feel. Let him in. Let him do this.

  The first brush of his lips on my clit banishes all my fears and worry as the chemistry that drew us together explodes between us. Slow, gentle kisses across my skin before he starts to explore me with his tongue.

  And that’s gentle too, but no one could say that he’s not thorough. Brandon licks every inch of me. Slowly. Deliberately. Until my thighs are shaking and my breath is coming in gasps. And every second I expect him to stop. That he’ll move on to the main act, having done his duty. But he doesn’t.

  He stays between my legs, working me with his mouth and tongue until I’m almost squirming. Brandon chuckles, the vibrations doing interesting things to me. “For being allergic to cinnamon, you taste a lot like it.”

  “Oh my god, no I don’t.”

  He looks up at me. “You’ve tasted yourself?”

  “No.”

  The smirk he gives me is wicked. “Then you’ll have to take my word on it. Maybe that should be your new nickname. Cinnamon.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “We’ll think about it.”

  I don’t have a chance to respond. He seals his mouth over my clit and sucks, and I no longer have the power of speech. His tongue swirls over me until he finds the spot that makes me jump. And then it’s no longer gentle. It’s relentless.

  Brandon scoops his hands under my hips, and it’s like he’s feasting on me. Never letting up as that bright star of pleasure rises higher inside my core. Long licks that cover me, and him plunging his tongue deep into my pussy, fucking me with it.

  And when he finally moves back to my clit, I’m past the point of no return. He focuses all his attention right there, and I can’t breathe. Over and over again until the bright star explodes through me.

  I don’t make a sound—I can’t. All the air in my body is caught, frozen. I’m taut, every muscle drawn tight like a bow, arching against his mouth for a breathless moment. And then it all comes rushing back in with the second wave of ruthless pleasure.

  “Oh, shit.” I can’t stop moving, thrusting against his mouth and trying to get more, grabbing the blankets just so I have something to hold on to. It lasts for forever and not nearly long enough.

  I drop back into my body with a gasp, breathing hard. God, it’s been a long time since I’ve done that. Holy shit. “You are very good at that,” I say.

  “Better than darts?” He smiles, standing off the bed and stripping off the rest of his clothes.

  And…wow.

  What I can see goes with the rest of him. Cut lines on his hips that drop directly to his cock. Powerful legs that make me very, very sure I’m going to like the view of his ass naked as much as I like it in jeans.

  And as soon as I rechristen the bottom I come back to his dick, cause that’s a work of fucking art. He’s already hard, not bothering to show me how aroused he is. And god, I want him now. I’m still dazed in pleasure, and I want more.

  “What did you say?”

  Brandon laughs, rolling on a condom. “I asked if I was better at eating your pussy than I am at darts.”

  His words shoot straight to my core. “I don’t know. I’ll probably have to evaluate you a couple more times.”

  “That can be arranged,” he whispers against my skin as he crawls up my body. I shiver, overwhelmed by being completely skin on skin.

  Settling between my legs, Brandon locks eyes with me as he pushes in. And in and in. He’s bigger than I thought, and when he’s buried inside me I’m so full that I lose my breath. And he feels so good.

  “You okay?” He asks softly, his voice raw.

  “Yeah.”

  I think I was afraid of this moment. After everything. I didn’t know what it would really be like to let someone in. But I’m glad that it’s him.

  Slowly, Brandon starts to move. A smooth rocking that keeps us locked together and lights me up from within. He kisses me too, never stopping that slow, even movement. And it’s just what I need.

  I get lost in the pleasure, the lazy, even beauty of it. Brandon slips his arms under me, reaching up to tangle his hands in my hair. I’m completely held by him, and I let go. Pleasure builds between us, steady and gorgeous.

  We almost lose our pace. It’s so close, the desperation for more of that delicious feeling faster. But we hold back. Until we’re both shuddering with every stroke. Until my nails are digging into his back and my legs are locked around my hips.

  When we go, we go over together, falling into bliss. It’s like drowning in a silver sea—bright and shining and drenching every part of me in tingling, aching pleasure. And each time we move it lasts a little longer.

  When I’m back, I’m still in Brandon’s arms. He’s so beautiful looking down at me like that, and I feel a little bit of that dizzy, drunken feeling come back. Or maybe that’s just him.

  I’m so sleepy that my eyes are already closing. But that’s not my normal. “I shouldn’t be this sleepy.”

  Brandon’s weight disappears from me for a moment, and then he’s back, helping me under the covers and climbing in with me. “On the contrary,” he says. “I think you should be. An allergic reaction, drugs, and sex will take it out of a person. And it’s three in the morning.”

  “Yeah.”

  He pulls me against him, and I settle against his chest, grateful for his warmth. That was perfect. Like our bodies knew exactly what we needed, working together with that explosive chemistry. The last thought I have is that I don’t think either of us will be the same after that. And that’s something that I’m very okay with.

  12

  Brandon

  When I wake up, it takes a moment to realize where I am. And the fact that I have a naked, sleeping woman in my arms.

  Ellie is so relaxed that I don’t dare move. I’ve never really seen her like this. Last night when she was sleeping I didn’t stare at her—there was no chance I was going to be that creepy. But now that she’s pressed up against me I can’t keep my eyes off her.

  Fuck, she’s beautiful.

  And given that it’s the morning I’m so hard that I’m aching. Even if it wasn’t, having felt what it’s like to be inside her, it’ll be difficult to not be hard in her proximity.

  But the more surprising thing is how…right this feels. Of course I wanted it, but this thing that’s stirring deep in my chest isn’t what I expected. Holding Ellie feels like something that I’ve been waiting for but didn’t know that I needed. And I think I’d be perfectly happy if I never left this bed. Just the two of us, like this.

  Ellie takes a deep breath and stretches, freezing suddenly. Her eyes fly open and lock on mine. Her eyes are clear in the morning light. Not dizzy with sex or the aftermath of Benadryl—though the way she’d been so sleepy and nearly drunk had been cute. More importantly, I didn’t see any horror in her eyes, or sudden realizations that she made a mistake.

  “Morning.”

  “Morning,” she whispers. Slowly, her smile grows. “You know what’s nice about running a bar?”

  “Tell me.”

  “I don’t have to be there until the middle of the afternoon.” She reaches between us, fingers stroking down my cock. Shit. I’m light headed with all the blood rushing south.

  “That sounds like an invitation.”

  “Yes.”

  I roll over her, taking control and moving faster than I did
last night. I was afraid of overwhelming her or making her reaction worse. Now I don’t have those fears.

  Ellie’s hair spreads across the pillow in a riot of red like flames poured across the bed. She’s so fucking beautiful. “Where do I start?”

  “You took it easy on me last night,” she says. “You can start by not doing that. Don’t get me wrong, it was what I needed. But I need more now.”

  “I can do that.”

  I sink down to kiss her skin and pain rips into my spine followed by a meow that’s way too loud for the tiny body it’s coming from. “Fuck.” I press my head to Ellie’s shoulder, letting the pain subside for a moment before I feel her shaking.

  She’s laughing.

  Pulling back just far enough to see her face, she’s covering her mouth and absolutely dying. It’s hard to keep my own face straight. Jack is climbing up my back until he reaches my shoulder and peers down at Ellie.

  “How dare you laugh at my pain,” I tell her with mock seriousness.

  “I’m always on Jack’s side.”

  I smirk. “Traitor.”

  She raises an eyebrow. “Are you going to be the one to tell him that he can’t have breakfast?”

  “Of course not. I think we have a special bond after last night.”

  She laughs and pulls the tiny cat off my shoulder.

  “Tell you what. I’ll feed Jack and make you breakfast in bed since dinner was interrupted—and I swear to god there won’t be any cinnamon.”

  “Hmm,” her eyes are sparkling. “I’ll take breakfast, but I don’t want to stay in bed.”

  “I was hoping the staying in bed would encourage restarting this later.”

  Her eyes go dark, making the green shade deepen and draw me in. “Believe me, getting out of bed for breakfast will have nothing to do with that.”

  She laughs at how quickly I scramble from the bed, and I pull on my jeans and nothing else. Cooking last night and cleaning up the kitchen, I’ve got a good idea of what’s in Ellie’s pantry. And she’s got all the perfect ingredients for pancakes.