Solitary Man (The Smith Brothers Book 3)

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Solitary Man (The Smith Brothers Book 3) Page 4

by Sherilee Gray


  “Tell me what to do,” he choked out.

  “Rub across it now. Yes…yes, like that.” I was close, and I wanted him to come with me. “Am I…is this how you like it?” I asked him, wanting him to feel as good as me.

  He thrust into my hand faster. “Do anything. You can do anything to me.”

  He rubbed me more firmly, picking up the pace, and I gasped for breath as pleasure built higher inside me, until I couldn’t take it another moment. I threw my head back and cried out, coming against his fingers.

  Cash stiffened, then jerked in my hand, groaning deep.

  His face contorted with pleasure, with awe, as he came for me. His wide chest heaved, and he yanked me forward, plastering me against his chest, holding me so tight I could barely breathe, but I didn’t care. What we’d just done was incredible.

  “Did I…did I make you feel good?” he asked after a while of us both trying to catch our breath.

  I nuzzled his chest. “Yes, you were perfect.”

  He rolled to his back, taking me with him, so I was plastered against his side. “I just want to take care of you, Riley.”

  Then his breathing evened out.

  A moment later he was fast asleep.

  I smiled against his side. I wanted to take care of him as well.

  4

  Cash

  I glanced at the house again. What was Riley doing right now? Something I’d been asking myself all day—the last few days. I scowled and hefted another plank of wood onto my shoulder. What had she done to me? I had a constant ache in my gut and a weird feeling in my chest.

  I wanted to be inside the house with her. I’d brought her here for a lot of reasons: So I wasn’t alone anymore. To make my life easier, better. So I could get more done around the place. So far, I’d barely done any of the things I needed to do around the property.

  How could I when all I could think about was what we’d done in bed three nights ago? The way she’d touched me and let me touch her. Her sweet, hushed words in the darkness, the little noises she made when I used my fingers on her to bring her to orgasm.

  The feel of her tight opening against the tip of my finger. I’d wanted to plunge inside so badly. A shudder wracked through me. She said we’d fit together just fine, but I wasn’t so sure. What if I hurt her? She was so small. And what I wanted to do to her, the way I wanted to take her—

  I clenched my fists and shook my head, trying to dislodge the images in my head of her under me, my hands holding her down while I slammed into her curvy little frame. What the hell is wrong with you?

  Christ in heaven, I needed to stay the hell away from her. At least until I could gather some control. I needed to treat her with care, with respect. Not force her to endure my raw, unschooled hunger for her.

  No, I hadn’t been with a woman before, but I’d been imaging what it would be like for a long time. Someone to talk with, eat with, share a life with. Someone to sate this burning lust deep inside me.

  So many nights I’d lain in bed, feverish with hunger, cock in hand, feeling so incredibly lonely, so desperate for another person to touch me. Someone to help relieve the unrelenting ache between my thighs. Someone to just…hold me. It had gotten so bad, the loneliness had nearly broken me.

  Until I finally did what Beau had suggested during one of my deliveries to their homestead.

  Advertise for a wife, like he had.

  I’d used the computer at the general store and started my search. Since I’d needed Landon’s laptop, I’d had to share what I was doing. He’d ended up helping me communicate with Riley. I didn’t have a computer, so I’d call him via satellite phone, he’d read me her emails, and I’d tell him what to reply with.

  It was awkward and time consuming, but it was worth it.

  Now I had my perfect, little wife. So beautiful and sweet. I wanted to protect and look after her. And fuck her so hard the walls would shake. If I took her like I desperately wanted to, she’d never look at me the same again. She’d probably run from me and never look back.

  I couldn’t have that.

  I finally had everything I wanted.

  I couldn’t lose her. Not now.

  Which was why I was getting up before she woke and climbing into bed after she was asleep.

  I’d had her here less than a week, and I was already ruining everything.

  I glanced at the house again and bit back a curse as a wave of lust hit me so strong I had to lock my knees. She was inside. In my house. Mine.

  She was mine.

  Growling, I dragged a hand down my beard. I’d woken early this morning with her plastered to my side—her arm flung over my stomach, her knee bent, thigh over mine, her face pressed against my ribs—and a cock so stiff I’d barely stopped myself from rolling her to her back, shoving her thighs wide, and stuffing her full.

  Which was why for the third morning in a row, I’d gently shifted away from her and snuck out before she woke, busying myself milling wood for the house extension. Riley hadn’t sought me out. Not once.

  I was confused and angry with myself. I didn’t know what to do.

  My stomach rumbled. I’d barely eaten, and I was tired. I wanted her. I wanted to make things right between us. How did I do that?

  My stomach rumbled again. It was getting late. The sun lower in the sky. Time to eat. You need to go inside. You’re making everything worse.

  I couldn’t avoid her anymore. What kind of a man avoids his wife?

  One with no self-control.

  Somehow, I had to ignore the rough need I had for her. Not easy with her in my bed every night, curled up beside me, wrapping herself around me even in sleep.

  Though, two of those nights, she’d woken with a scream, and as soon as I’d muttered what I hoped were soothing words, she’d curled into me and gone back to sleep.

  I didn’t know what caused her distress, but I liked that I was there to comfort her.

  It was the sweetest torture.

  I adjusted the planks of wood on my shoulder and headed for the house, carrying them around the back, ready to use in the morning. I was hot, sweaty, hungry, and desperate to see Riley when I walked in. To try to make amends for the way I’d been behaving.

  But when I stomped in, she wasn’t in the living room or the kitchen. I strode to the bedroom, then the bathroom.

  She wasn’t there, either.

  I stood there, looking around my small cottage like I expected her to appear out of nowhere.

  Every muscle in my body locked tight. Has she left? Has she left me?

  I ran out the door, searching the fields around the house—

  A foot poked out from behind a tree.

  My heart kicked into action, and I strode toward it—her—with what felt like a boulder in my throat, gut in knots. Of course, she hadn’t left.

  She has no way to leave.

  I shook that thought away.

  She married you. She wants to be here.

  Still, that moment of fear that she’d fled from me had me barking out her name, “Riley.”

  Her foot jolted, then her head appeared around the side of the tree. “God, Cash, you startled me.”

  I’d startled her? She’d scared the hell out of me. “What’re you doing out here?” I inwardly winced at the growl in my voice but couldn’t seem to stop myself.

  She frowned and lifted the laptop on her lap. “I was writing.”

  I dragged in a rough breath, feeling like an idiot, my heart still not calm, and there was no reining it in. “I’m hungry.”

  What the hell is wrong with you?

  Riley’s mouth opened. Closed. “Um, I’m sorry, I didn’t think…I…” She stood so quickly she nearly fell over. My hand shot out, steadying her, and just that tiny bit of contact with her warm, smooth skin against my palm and I was fighting not to snatch her up, shove down her pants, and take her against the tree she’d been hiding behind.

  I pulled my hand back and shook my head. “I didn’t mean…”

/>   “No, you’re right. You’ve been outside working all day. And I guess that was part of the deal, right? Me cooking the evening meals.”

  The deal?

  I hated that. This wasn’t some deal. She was my wife.

  I couldn’t have messed this whole thing up more if I’d tried. “Riley…”

  “Sorry, when I write I can get caught up and lose track of time. And honestly, since I haven’t seen you in days, I didn’t think... I’ll make something now, while you clean up.”

  She wasn’t looking at me. Why wasn’t she looking at me. “Riley?”

  But she was already striding back toward the house, shoulders stiff, chin high, and even with my total lack of experience with people, I didn’t miss she was angry. Maybe even hurt.

  Her round bottom twitched in her jeans as she walked up the steps and into the house, and I cursed loudly. I hadn’t thought this through, any of it. Only about myself. My comfort. My feelings. I’d wanted someone to look after me, keep me company. Someone to share my nights with, to slake this burning lust inside me that…hell, that had started to scare me.

  I hadn’t thought about her.

  Never about how she’d feel.

  I was a selfish bastard.

  Riley had feelings and emotions. I’d come all over her hand three nights ago, then avoided her. And when I’d finally seen her again properly, to talk to her, I’d demanded she cook me dinner.

  If my cousins Beau and Hank were here, they’d be shaking their heads at me for acting like an idiot.

  I started back toward the house, not knowing what to do or say. I wasn’t used to talking, let alone soothing a woman’s hurt feelings. She had a good reason to be angry at me, and I got the feeling I’d make her angry again over the next few months, since I was a goddamn clueless idiot.

  If she stayed that long.

  The ache in my chest increased.

  I walked into the kitchen. Riley was chopping carrots. Loudly.

  “Riley?”

  “I’ll be as quick as I can, Cash. And sorry, no chocolate cake tonight.”

  Yep, she was angry. No, furious. I frowned. “Cake?”

  “It is your favorite, right? It was remiss of me not to have made you one by now. Please accept my apologies.”

  I frowned harder. When had I mentioned chocolate cake being my favorite?

  I shook away that thought. She sounded different. Her voice was sharper. And I may be clueless and miss a lot, but I knew what sarcasm was. How could I not with Beau as a cousin? I’d screwed up. Badly. I’d been around my cousins and their wives enough to know when a woman was upset.

  I remembered the sounds she made when I used my finger on her clit, when she came for me. She’d been happy then. She’d clung to me, snuggled closer. She’d liked that, too, snuggling. She’d stayed pressed up to me like that all night, had done it every night since, even if she was asleep. She’d smiled at me as well.

  Would that make her happy again now? My gaze dropped to her round bottom, the way the denim hugged tight, the way the seam skated between her rounded cheeks, down farther, curving around between her thighs, along her pussy, and I licked my lips.

  Would she like it if I used my mouth on her there? I’d seen it in movies, read about it in books. My mouth started to water. Or would she be disgusted?

  She opened one of the cupboards under the sink, bending over and pulling out a pot.

  “I know what I want…for dinner.” My face exploded with heat. Had I actually said that out loud?

  She turned to me, eyes flashing, a look on her face my mom had aimed at my dad many times when he’d said something stupid…but then Riley stilled as her gaze moved over my face, when she looked into my eyes.

  “What do you want for dinner?” she asked, and her voice had gone husky.

  My gaze dropped to the juncture of her thighs before I could stop myself, and I didn’t miss her sharp intake of breath.

  Idiot.

  “I’m…I’m sorry,” I bit out.

  She put her knife down and turned to face me properly. “What are you sorry for?”

  I shook my head, trying to find the right words. “This isn’t a deal, Riley.”

  She took a step closer. “No, it’s not. Are you really mad because I lost track of time and didn’t make dinner?”

  I shook my head. “With myself.”

  “For avoiding me for the last three days?”

  I planted my hands on my hips to stop from reaching for her. “Yep.”

  “And you want to apologize?”

  “Yep,” I choked out. Why did I find this so damn hard?

  “And how did you want to do that?” she said, her face pink, her beautiful eyes bright.

  My gaze dipped again before I could stop it, struggling for control. “I-I’ll make dinner,” I said, trying to cover for what I’d almost given away. The dirty things I wanted to do to my perfect, new wife.

  She tilted her head to the side. “No, I don’t think that’s what you had in mind.”

  I swallowed audibly.

  “Tell me, Cash, tell me what it is you really want?”

  I shook my head, feeling cornered. Embarrassed. Ashamed.

  “Have you been thinking about what we did my first night here?” she asked, her lovely round breasts shaking slightly with her quickened breaths.

  I hadn’t seen them bare yet. I hadn’t touched them. An image of them swaying as I pounded into her fired through my head, and it was my turn to suck in a breath.

  “Or something else?” she carried on. “Are you hungry for me, Cash? Is that what you meant?”

  I growled.

  Like an animal.

  Her eyes widened, lips parting. Her tongue swiped over her upper lip. “Do you want to use your mouth on me, Cash?”

  I shuddered fiercely enough there was no way Riley missed it. “I’m sorry,” I said again, embarrassed that I didn’t know what to do. What the hell to say.

  “Is that it? Is that what you want? You want to make me come with your mouth?” she asked again, her voice soft, sweet, quietly demanding an answer from me.

  I started to shake my head.

  “Tell me.” There was a desperation in her voice that made me shake harder.

  I was so hard now I hurt. I hurt so bad. I shouldn’t say it. I shouldn’t tell her what I was thinking, but right then I couldn’t stop myself because Riley didn’t look horrified. No, she looked—excited.

  “I…I…” I cleared my tight throat. “I want to tear off those fuck-me jeans, lay you on the dinner table, and feast on your…” I swallowed audibly. “Your…pussy.”

  I stood there, breathing roughly, terrified she’d be disgusted by what I’d said yet desperate for her to want that, too. For her to want my mouth on her.

  Her delicate nostrils flared, and she took another step toward me. “I’m glad you told me, Cash. Now come and get your reward.”

  My control crumpled.

  With a vicious growl, I closed the distance between us, snatched her up into my arms, and strode the four steps to the table. I laid her back in the next breath, my hands tearing open her jeans, then yanking them and her panties down her legs.

  No more panties. Riley should never wear panties. She should always be bare.

  I sat heavily in the chair at the head of the table, gripped her ankles, dragged her toward me, then flung her legs over my shoulders. She laughed, and it sounded like lots of tiny bells, high and joyful.

  I wanted to look up, to see that kind of joy on her beautiful face, but I couldn’t look away from my prize. My reward. She was so pretty, pink and wet. She looked soft, was so incredibly soft there. I couldn’t hold back another moment, and I buried my face where I wanted to be so badly I was certain I’d die if I didn’t taste her.

  She was warm and silky, and salty sweet.

  She was perfect and precious.

  I gripped her thighs harder, and damn near whimpered as I swept my tongue through the center of her, the same place where
she’d guided my fingers last time. I flicked my tongue over the little nub that had made her come for me, her clit, knowing if I moved my tongue over it, if I kissed and licked and sucked, I could make her come again.

  But I wanted to explore first. I traced the delicate, slick folds of her pussy, and worked my way down to her opening, dipping the tip of my tongue inside. Oh God. So good.

  Riley gasped, and her fingers threaded through my hair, fisting. I liked that. And she seemed to be enjoying what I was doing, but I needed to be sure.

  “You like that, darlin’?” I don’t know where the endearment came from, but it felt right.

  She gasped. “Yes…don’t stop.”

  Stop? I never wanted to stop. I wanted to stay right there. My mouth pressed up against her pretty pussy, her taste on my tongue, her scent filling my head. Knowing that I was giving her pleasure filled me with pride. With happiness. Made me even harder, when I thought that was impossible.

  If I could make her feel good like this all the time, maybe she wouldn’t leave me. Maybe she’d stay. Maybe she’d overlook my constant inability to know the right thing to do or say.

  I teased her tight opening again. Releasing one of her rounded thighs, I rested my finger right there, gently circling, pressing against it, sliding over the spot I wanted inside so badly.

  “Please,” Riley gasped.

  “You want me to push inside, darlin’?” I choked out.

  “Yes, God yes.”

  Oh Christ. On a broken curse, I slid my finger into her hot, tight heat and had to drop my other hand between my thighs and squeeze. I groaned as I dragged my finger out and pushed back in, mimicking what I wanted to do with my heavy, throbbing cock. It was like molten steel trying to burst through the front of my pants.

  I was burning up. Burning for her.

  I thrust in and out faster, my tongue sliding over her clit. Riley gripped my hair tighter, crying out, and wiggled her hips, pushing up against my mouth. She wanted more. I slid my finger out and pushed back in with a second one, my breath shuddering out of me when she arched and moaned, spreading her thighs wider.

 

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