“No, no, please,” she begged, her mouth finding mine urgently.
I couldn’t refuse. I stilled, staying inside of her during the final flutters of her climax before I pulled out. Then I let myself savor it, a slow, delicious ride, the hot wetness of her body coating me with every stroke, easing my way to go deep. I flexed my hips to strike the spot in her core that made her go wild. Already I knew it well, knew how to stroke inside so the curve of my big cock gave it to her the way she needed it. A sharp cry and she came again, shock in her face as she bucked against me. With the first hard pulse of her orgasm, I emptied into her womb with a jerk of my hips and a spike of pleasure I felt down to the soles of my feet.
“I think we should live here now,” she laughed shakily, our bodies still joined, as I lay atop her, slick with sweat. I tasted the curve of her neck, mouthing it as she wriggled with pleasure beneath me.
“So we just stay on the couch and make love all the time? I could get on board with that,” I said. I sat up and held her against me. “I need to make sure you’re okay.”
“Oh, honey, I’m better than okay. The only way I could feel better is if I never had to leave your arms.”
“The only time you’re leaving my arms is when we test drive a new, safer vehicle for you. Otherwise, I may have someone attach you to my side. I’m on the board of directors at St. Francis Hospital. I bet there’s a staff surgeon who could do the job,” I teased.
“I mean it, don’t let me go. I only feel safe when I’m in your arms right now. I won’t always be a wimp, but that scared me really badly. Tomorrow I’ll realize it was no big deal, but tonight I need you so much,” she said, her voice sounding tearful again.
“Come here, baby,” I said, kissing her again. “I’ve got you.”
Something had changed between us. I knew as soon as she said she needed me, as soon as I called her ‘baby.’ Something had shifted from sexy fun and friendship to something deeper and a little terrifying. Because I might need her just as much, and I wasn’t a man who needed anything.
12
Allie
I’d be lying if I said things didn’t change after the wreck. He was always hugging me, holding me, reaching for my hand. I would wake in the night with his hands on my body, his cock already at my slit, needing me. If I was afraid and shaky after the accident, he was possessive, protective, even needy. Somehow it made him even more physical with me. As if he could fuck the fear out of existence, as if he could keep me alive and safe and close to him by constantly touching me, kissing me. I’d be brushing my teeth before bed when he’d knock at the bathroom door. When I told him to come on in, he’d be on his knees, bending me over the sink and eating me out. I had more orgasms the week after that car wreck than I’d ever had in my whole life before, and I bet he could say the same. It was like he thought he could protect me by never letting me out of his sight, out of his bed.
For my part, I wanted him inside me all the time. The first time I had to go back to work after the wreck, buckled into my shiny new vehicle with the dual side air bags, I was trembling and nervous. His answer had been to have me call in sick and spend the afternoon making love to me in our bed, slow and sweet. Even when I’d just had him, I wanted more. I was guilty of the greediest lust with him. Nothing would comfort me after a bad dream except his voice in my ear as he slid his heavy cock into my already wet core. Nothing else drove away the nightmares and made me whole again. When I woke up crying, dreaming that he never found me, that he would never come for me, Raul cradled me in his arms and held me. He kissed me so softly it could break my heart. I told him again and again that I need him.
“I’m here. I’d never leave you,” he said roughly into my mouth as we kissed. I wished I could have believed him, but I knew there was some part of him that always held back from me. I wondered if it was from losing his parents so young or if it had to do with the ex-girlfriend he’d mentioned one night in conversation, the one who’d cheated on him. Mostly, I blamed her. I hated her for that, for ruining things for him forever. For making part of him unreachable to me, because she’d hurt him so badly. I knew we had a deal, that our marriage had a three-year expiration date, but I knew in my heart that I wanted more than that. I wanted Raul Santiago with no end in sight. I was just too chicken shit to admit it yet. But I would fall asleep in his arms every night hoping he’d start to love me, even if it was only a little bit.
We built a routine after my accident. I was definitely the more spontaneous one, but for Raul’s peace of mind, I stuck to a predictable schedule. If I was going out for lattes after work with some friends, I let him know so he wouldn’t worry. He knew exactly when to expect me at home. I noticed that on the days I stayed at the ranch, he found ways to arrange his schedule to include me. By nine in the morning, he’d find me out by the pool with my coffee and ask if I wanted to go for a ride to check out something on the ranch he needed to monitor or help with an injured animal. Most of the time, Dori trotted along behind us, a regular ranch hand himself.
Pablo had taken the promotion to lead foreman and handled practically everything in managing day-to-day operations of Santeria, but he had to take the occasional break to give Kirby shit about how he was running the stables since he took over. We’d go to Pablo’s new office, then head out on the horses, to do whatever Raul’s tasks were for the day side by side.
One time we even scrubbed out buckets in a supply shed. Every other Wednesday, we thinned out some vegetables in the kitchen garden and ran them out to a church soup kitchen with some Santeria beef for their evening meal, and we stayed to help serve it. I loved standing beside Raul and spooning potatoes, onions and carrots onto the plates beside the generous slabs of roast beef he sliced. It felt so good to reach out and help people, to donate our time and the work of our hands as well as the produce of the ranch. He’d lean down and whisper something to make me laugh, and I’d stand on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. Those were some of my favorite times.
We were definitely closer than we had been, spending more time together, and texting each other when we were apart. He always reached for my hand now and made sure to call and let me know if he was running late. Raul was considerate, but more personal as well. He brought me peonies and fresh dental chews for the dogs if he went into town. He got the low fat, slow churned ice cream I liked that had the good fudge ripple in it and asked the cook to add macaroni and cheese to the menu rotation for me. We watched movies together, and some nights we just sat by the fire pit together listening to music while the stars came out.
He liked it when I wore a pair of Santi boots—he’d given me one in every style, but his favorites were the high heeled tall ones. So I wore them around the house a lot, even if I just had on a knit sundress or a pair of shorts and a tank top. He couldn’t keep his hands off me when I wore those. Which was probably why I liked them so much. Once I even put on a wide brown Santi belt over my white sundress and brought him a beer out on the patio. The next thing I knew, I was bent over the umbrella table. He was gripping me by the belt with my skirt flipped up, his cock inside me heavy and thick. He pulled me back onto his erection by my belt, the backs of my thighs colliding with his jeans. I rocked against him, moaning, laughter behind my moans because I’d managed to seduce him with no more effort than it took to put on a belt. Secretly I loved being taken from behind, the way he mastered my body and made me come like it was his job.
We’d jumped into the pool after that, our clothes in a messy pile on the table. The water was cool and sleek on our fevered sweaty skin. I had looped my arms around his neck, my legs working to tread water as he moved me into the deep end. He kissed me while I clung to him and thought this was the happiest it was possible to be. I knew not to ask him for a romantic declaration. His actions spoke louder, showed me how he cared for me and protected me, cherished and satisfied my body.
I was mostly content to live that way, to be his partner and companion. For weeks I told myself that the reassuring routine was to su
pport Raul who had been so anxious after my accident, but when I found out he was going to travel for work, it was jarring. I already knew I had some feelings for him, but I thought I’d done a good job keeping them in check. Until he mentioned going to Italy alone. Then I felt like a child deprived of a treat. No morning horseback rides or dog walks together, no more Wednesdays at the soup kitchen or Sunday night action movie binges with caramel corn and fooling around under the cashmere blanket. It was like all the light went out. My charmed life felt bleak all at once.
There was no way to tell him, to whine that I needed him at home. That he made me feel safe and wanted, and that I wouldn’t let him go at the end of three years without a fight. It would cause a panic and break the terms of our deal. Friends and lovers for a few years and then no mess or drama. So I should keep my drama to myself until I could get over it. Except facing weeks without him made me feel like crying.
Smiling, I forced myself to be upbeat, “So how long will you be gone?”
“I’ll be gone for at least two weeks. Pablo will take care of everything on Santeria, and I’m sure the clinic will keep you busy. Maybe your sisters can come stay a few days,” he suggested very practically. I still felt disappointed and a little sad.
“Okay, so a couple of weeks, right?” I said trying to seem cheerful. “This is to do with the restructuring, right?”
“Yes, I’ve undertaken a massive redo of the leather goods company, and I have to be there to oversee the transition, explain a few things to the directors, and make sure things start off smoothly. I think this is going to make the business less top-heavy and more efficient in the long run, combining a couple of divisions and streamlining the executive suite.”
“You’re cutting some executives?”
“Let’s say they’re being reassigned where they can be more useful. I’m not firing anyone, I’m just giving them a chance to prove themselves valuable as we go forward,” he said.
So he was testing them. I was no fool—there were some luxury goods execs in Italy who were about to get their asses handed to them by my cowboy husband. He had a gleam in his eye like he was going to enjoy it. I wished I could be there to see it and I wished he’d ask me to go with him.
We hadn’t taken a honeymoon. I still worked part time at the clinic, but I had a number of vacation days built up from my full-time tenure there. He might think I preferred to stay in Texas, spend time with my sisters and my dogs, hang out at the clinic more. I did love my job. I just—I bit down on my tongue intentionally to stop the rest of that sentence.
I’d have to think about that later, when I wasn’t face to face with so much handsomeness. I put a smile back on my face like nothing had happened.
“I’m going to miss you,” I said.
“Good,” he grinned that wicked grin, “but the time will fly by.”
“Probably. I’ll keep busy,” I promised.
All the while I was silently willing him to invite me to come along. Italy would be beautiful and interesting, and I’d love to have him show me new things, introduce me to another culture and way of living, make love in another time zone. It would be so romantic. There was nothing keeping me in Texas. I could miss my part time job—I’d covered for other techs often enough. But he didn’t ask me.
There were a dozen reasons why he wouldn’t. It was a business trip not a vacation, so he’d be at an office most of the time. He wouldn’t have time to entertain me. It wasn’t an actual honeymoon, and the fact was that we were in a fake marriage of convenience, so a romantic honeymoon wasn’t exactly required.
I had a job and family in Texas. I had shown little to no interest in traveling during the time he’d known me. He knew I loved the ranch and probably thought I’d want to stay there. All of that was perfectly reasonable. Still, it hurt my feelings that Raul didn’t think to ask me to accompany him. It should’ve at least occurred to him that it would be more fun to have me along. He’d said as much in Fort Worth when we went to the charity gala. That everything was better with me there. I’d cherished the way he said those words to me, the kind of loving thing a husband would say if any of this were real.
The fact that I felt a pang at the idea of his absence, that I longed, actually longed to go with him was exactly why I shouldn’t ask. I was an independent woman, happy in her life before Raul Santiago walked into it. While my life was even better with him in it, I was no lonesome street urchin who had no idea what to do with myself. It was a matter of pride now to stay behind and be perfectly cheerful and content while he was an ocean away. I didn’t need a fake husband, and I didn’t need a European vacation if I had to beg for it. After I got my settlement, I could probably vacation anywhere I wanted, some fancy villa on an Italian lake like George Clooney had. I’d rent one of those, and even bring the dogs. I’d take my sisters along. We’d go eat pasta and buy expensive shoes and whatever else rich people did in Italy. Watching my pretend husband restructure a corporation wasn’t exactly a luxury spa trip anyway. Who needed it?
“Are you okay?” he said.
Apparently, I’d been standing there staring at him for a while, thinking all of it through.
“Oh, yeah, I’m good,” I said. “I was just trying to remember if I gave Dori his heartworm pill this month yet.”
“You gave it to him on the third. It’s on the calendar in the kitchen,” he said.
“Right. Thanks,” I said absent-mindedly.
I went for a swim in the pool, which usually relaxed me, but I still felt uncomfortable. I shook it off and went to check on one of the barn cats who had a run in with some baling twine and yanked out a claw the day before. I’d been able to bandage her up, but I wanted to keep the wound clean so it would heal. I grabbed my supplies and some tuna from the fridge to attract her.
By the time I had her fixed up and full of contraband tuna, I felt more like myself. Working with animals grounded me and kept me from veering into annoying self-pity. Of all the people in the world, I had probably the least reason to feel sorry for myself. Good job, great family, beautiful home, hot husband, and surrounded by animals I loved. My life was practically perfect, and any feeling of discontent was completely stupid, I scolded myself.
We had dinner together like usual, and Raul updated me on how the herds were progressing with weight gain before giving me some details about his trip.
“Is there anything you want me to bring you back? A Santi belt maybe?” he said.
It was a running joke between us because I had told him once that I couldn’t even afford a belt or purse from his label, and he’d offered me anything and everything they made including items from their vintage collection housed in a small museum adjacent to the showroom in Milan. In addition to all their boots and belts, I was the proud owner of a pair of buttery caramel summer Santi mule sandals already.
“No, I think I’m good, thanks,” I said brightly. “I have a belt, remember?” I reminded him slyly of our liaison on the umbrella table the time I’d worn the belt. He seemed annoyingly immune to the reminder, no flash of lust crossing his handsome features. He was distracted, looking at his phone.
“Look on the website if you get time and send me a screenshot of anything you like. I can ship it to you, so it gets to Santeria before I do.”
“In case I have a luxury leather emergency?” I teased. “I don’t think I’m going to be in dire need of anything before you get back. You said it would only be a couple of weeks.”
“It will likely take at least two weeks. It could be as much as a month depending on how cooperative people are, and how they respond to the situation. I’ll be as tactful as I can, but I’m used to giving orders, and if my orders are questioned…”
“So you should practice saying, ‘explain to me why you think so’ and ‘what alternatives can you suggest’ in Italian?” I said.
“Or I can just say ‘I’m your boss’ in Italian. Which is what I’d prefer.”
“Then it shouldn’t take very long at all, if that
’s how you’re going to handle it, Roadhouse style.”
Raul left two days later. I had offered to take him to the airport, but he was leaving early in the morning on a day I worked, so he decided to have one of the hands drop him off. Before he left, he kissed my forehead. I blinked sleepily at him and saw his expression—not the wicked grin that usually greeted me, but a serious look.
“I’ll miss you, Al,” he said quietly.
I nodded, feeling a lump in my throat and suddenly afraid I’d cry and cling to him and beg him not to go.
“Have a safe trip,” I said and coughed to try to explain away the thickness of my voice.
A quick kiss on my lips and he was gone. I tried to go back to sleep, but it was hopeless. I wanted to text him that I was awake and wished he was still in bed with me, but I thought better of it.
I signed up for extra hours at the clinic and even drove out to spend the night with Megan and take her shopping on the weekend. She worked hard, so it would be fun to spoil her a little. I let her put a bunch of makeup on me at Sephora where she worked, and even bought the eyeliner and lipstick she recommended. She offered me a free facial, but I didn’t want to mess up the makeover she’d done. I took a selfie of us and sent it to Raul. I helped her pick out a couple of new tops for going out and then I bought them for her along with a pair of cute shoes. It was fun to indulge her, especially since it took my mind off trying not to text my husband constantly.
I volunteered at the soup kitchen without him and took a selfie, but I didn’t send it. He was busy and didn’t have time to reply to stuff like that, I told myself, but I felt a little sad about it. I learned how to make his favorite banana pudding from the cook, but I only ate one serving and ended up sending the rest home with the guys on the ranch. I missed him. The house was quiet, the movies were boring, and even the dogs seemed grumpy without him.
Faking It Page 13