Solitary Man (The Smith Brothers Book 3)

by Sherilee Gray

  I was still deep inside her when she went pliant, when her muffled cries stopped and her grip loosened. I took my hand away and kissed her swollen lips. Riley curled her arms around my neck, and I wrapped her in mine, rolling to my side, taking her with me.

  We stayed like that for a long time, kissing, stroking, holding each other.

  I didn’t know how it happened so fast, but I was in so deep with Riley that I hated even letting her go to the bathroom without me. Had to stop myself from trailing her up the stairs just so I could keep my arms around her and my mouth on hers.

  This could only mean one thing, and it terrified the hell out of me. It was too soon. I could still lose her. But there was no mistaking it.

  I’d fallen in love with my sweet, little wife.

  9

  Riley

  I woke and stretched, yawning wide, then opened my eyes.

  Cash was standing by our bed, a mug of hot chocolate in his hand and an odd look on his face.

  I blinked up at him. “Good morning.”

  He’d kept me up late. It had been like that the last two weeks. My husband was insatiable. Not that I minded in the least, but unlike him, I found it harder to spring out of bed in the morning. Often by the time I woke, he’d been out working on the property or in the workshop for several hours.

  He handed me my hot chocolate, and I took a sip, letting the caffeine do its thing.

  “You had a bad dream last night,” he said, eyes boring into mine.

  I froze. “Did I?”

  He made a rumbly sound. “You’ve had a few.”

  I’d been so sure he’d slept through them. God, I wasn’t ready to talk about it with Cash. I didn’t want to ruin the present by bringing up the past, not now when we were still finding our feet as a couple. “Huh, weird,” I said, probably unconvincingly.

  He watched me for several long seconds more, and I smiled up at him and took another sip of my drink. He frowned, but then his wide shoulders relaxed.

  “Come on,” he finally said, thankfully dropping the topic. “Wanna show you something.”

  I did as he asked. I was in pj shorts that I’d tugged on after Cash had made me come three times and a tank. It was cool, so I slipped on the long, sloppy cardigan I’d been using like a robe and shoved my feet in my Ugg boots and took his hand.

  He let me.

  He always let me. Cash never initiated the hand holding, but he didn’t seem to mind when I laced my fingers with his. I thought—hoped—he liked it as much as me.

  Cash led me down the hall to the door that led to the new extension at the back of the house. He opened it, and we walked in. We had walls, a roof, and he’d laid the floorboards in the last few weeks. There was still a lot to do before it would be useable, but it was already pretty awesome.

  He led me to the door on the left. It was my favorite room. It had a spectacular view of the mountains, but I could also see Cash’s barn/workshop out the window.

  The door swung open, and I froze at the threshold.

  While we’d spent every night together, we had our own things to do during the day. Cash did what Cash did, and I wrote. I had a deadline to meet, and I’d been hiding away in the bedroom, working on my book, then usually I’d make dinner. Sometimes Cash would.

  Which was why I’d had no idea that he’d been working on this room.

  I twisted to look at him, and he was watching me, his color high, hands moving restlessly at his sides.

  “How did you find the time to do all this?” I whispered.

  The floor was polished, the walls painted a beautiful duck-egg blue. There was a huge bookshelf against one wall and a desk…the most exquisite desk I’d ever seen, sitting in the middle of the room. My laptop was on it, along with all my notebooks and journals.

  “Will it do?” he asked.

  I opened my mouth, closed it, trying to find the right words.

  He shoved his fingers through his hair. “You get a sore back sitting on the bed or at the kitchen table. Can tell in the evenings.”

  I nodded.

  “So…” He motioned to the desk again.

  “You made it?”

  He nodded.

  “And the bookshelf?”

  He nodded again.

  “For me?”

  Another nod.

  “You did all of this…for me?”

  He didn’t nod this time, he just stared at me.

  “Cash, it’s…it’s beautiful. All of it.” I put my mug on top of one of my notebooks, turned, and flew at him. He caught me instantly, and I hugged him tight, peppering his face with kisses. “I love it. I love it so much.”

  His deep chuckles vibrated against my chest, and I loved that, too. He carried me to the desk and set my butt on the varnished top.

  “Glad,” he said gruffly.

  There was an old, worn leather chair behind it. It looked well loved. “Where did you find the chair?” I ran my fingers over the buttery soft leather.

  “It was my mom’s.”

  His expression was carefully blank. Always keeping his feelings locked away. The only time I got more out of him was when we were naked. It bothered me. I’d been here for three weeks now. No, that wasn’t that long, but I assumed after he felt more comfortable around me, he’d start to share, even just a little.

  I rested my hand on his chest. “Thank you, I’m honored you’d let me use it.”

  “It’s yours,” he said just as gruffly.

  He stood back and let me climb down and try it out. Oh yes, it was incredibly comfortable and the perfect height for the desk.

  I flipped my laptop open.

  He moved my drink closer to me, and I quickly grabbed the notebook and put it under it. No way did I want mug rings on my gorgeous desk. I smiled up at him.

  His amazing blue eyes scanned my face. “I’ve got some work to do.”

  “Okay,” I said. I didn’t want him to go, but instead of saying that, I said, “No one’s ever done anything like this for me. Not ever.”

  My parents had occasionally sent me gifts from their travels, but they didn’t know me, had never known me. There’d been no love, no meaning behind the things they sent. Just a way to assuage their guilt.

  His nostrils flared and his chest expanded, then he dipped his chin and walked out.

  I took in my beautiful new office and blinked rapidly. So much thought had gone into every detail.

  I looked back to my laptop, opened my work in progress, and started to write. When I was in the city, I’d struggled. Stress and fear had made it impossible to get the words down. But here, with Cash, they were flowing.

  I glanced up from my work and did a double take at the time. I’d been at it for three hours. There was a muffin and a cup of tea beside me, and the heater had been turned on in the corner of the room. I’d been so in the zone, I hadn’t even noticed Cash walk in. I glanced out the window. He was walking across the field, back to his workshop.

  I took a bite out of my muffin. I’d made them yesterday. They weren’t half bad. I was no culinary goddess, but at least I was improving. While I sipped my drink, I filed away my notebooks in the bottom drawer, grinning to myself when I found the emails Cash and I had exchanged, the ones I’d printed off. I’d planned to scrapbook them before I came, a memento for us both, but hadn’t gotten around to it.

  I put them in the drawer as well.

  After a bathroom break, I got back to work, reading over the last few paragraphs I’d written. I’d finish this draft by the end of the week at this rate.

  A repetitive sound had me lifting my head a while later. I glanced at the time. 3 p.m. Another three hours had ticked by. I’d been sitting here in my fabulous, new office nearly all day. And I’d been so engrossed in my work, I still hadn’t gotten out of my pj’s.

  The plate that had my muffin on it was empty, so was the tea. So I’d obviously finished them during my writing frenzy. The repetitive sound, loud and jarring, came again and had me looking out the w
indow. The chair squeaked in the silent room, and I kind of froze, my mouth dropping open at the sight before me.

  Cash was outside the barn. His shirt was off, and he was wielding an ax like a marauding Viking. His expression was harsh, focused, as he brought the ax down on an innocent chunk of wood, cleaving it in two with one brutal whack. His bare chest glistened with sweat despite the cooler temperature. He scooped the chunks of wood off the ground and tossed them onto a pile against the barn wall, and the thick slabs of muscles in his arms, chest, and stomach danced in a way that made my mouth water.

  Cash had a warrior’s body, his muscles built from years of hard physical labor—thick and heavy, wrapped around his large, solid frame. He was a sight to see.

  I couldn’t take my eyes off him. I sat there for a long time, watching as he worked his way through that pile of wood, splitting it so we’d have a fire over the winter. So he could keep us warm. And that brutal, fierce expression never left his face once.

  He brought the ax down hard again, and I squirmed in my seat. Watching had made me hot and wet and aching. I always wanted him. Every night he had me, hard and unyielding. His body taking mine like he thought it was the last time. Rough-skinned hands moving my body where he wanted it. Deep, hungry kisses. I couldn’t get enough of Cash’s brand of loving.

  He swung the ax once more, burying it in the large block he split the logs on, then he scooped up his shirt and started across the field. I turned back to my laptop and tried to focus, to get back into the scene I’d been writing, but the ache between my thighs was unrelenting.

  The front door opening and closing reached me and had my heart racing faster. It did that a lot around Cash. Just knowing he was near. And I still hadn’t gotten used to that gorgeous blue gaze. His eyes made my belly squirm every time he aimed them at me. God, all he had to do was look at me and I’d give him anything he wanted.

  My breath quickened at the thump of his boots coming down the hall. The door opened and there he was, still shirtless, chest glistening, brow furrowed, beautiful blue eyes on me.

  “You need something?”

  I licked my lips. “You don’t have to come all the way inside and ask me that. I can fend for myself. Though, thank you for the muffin and the tea. I probably would have forgotten to eat if you hadn’t brought them to me. I was so caught up in writing, I didn’t even notice.”

  His hands went to his hips. “I know.”

  His gaze didn’t waver.

  Having a husband who was a man of few words could be difficult at times. Like now. He was waiting for an answer, and I wasn’t exactly sure what the question was. “Um…no, I don’t need anything.”

  “You were watching me.”

  I flushed. Ridiculous with the things we’d done to each other, but still, getting caught perving at my new husband shirtless and chopping wood made me blush. Not much I could to about that.

  I squirmed in my seat, and it squeaked again.

  Cash’s frown deepened, and he moved around the desk and crouched beside me, turning the seat with me in it to inspect it.

  I shifted one leg to the side to give him room while he did this, as he moved his hand over smooth wood. And that just turned me on more.

  “I’ll fix it. Stop the noise.”

  “Thanks,” I whispered, my voice husky from having him so close.

  When his eyes lifted, they went right between my legs.

  My massive husband stilled, then huffed out a breath before raising one of his hands, going right to the scrap of fabric covering me. He hooked his finger in it and yanked it aside.

  I wasn’t wearing any panties underneath, since I’d just pulled on the shorts after we’d had sex during the night. I flushed, imagining how swollen and wet and pink I probably looked from all my squirming while watching him work.

  His nostrils flared and his gaze lifted to mine, eyes filled with heat. “How did this happen, wife?”

  I shivered. I loved him like this. Craved it. “I was watching my husband chop wood with his shirt off. It’s all your fault. I started to have all these…thoughts,” I said shakily. “So really, it’s your responsibility to make it better.”

  His gaze moved down my body, then back up, slowly, hungrily. “Yeah, it is,” he said roughly.

  He stayed on his knees but lifted from his crouch, hands going to the arms of the chair, boxing me in. “What thoughts?”

  I trembled harder, so turned on now, so wet, it was almost embarrassing. “I…I…”

  “Tell me,” he rumbled.

  Those blue eyes were locked on mine, looking deep, drawing me in until all I saw was Cash. “I imagined you coming in here like this…bending me over my lovely new desk and taking me from behind.”

  His big body shuddered. “Imagined doing the same thing while I made it.”

  “You did?” I asked, sounding as breathless as I felt.

  He dipped his chin, then gripped my hips and jerked me forward so I was balanced on the edge of the seat. He hooked one long, thick finger around the fabric between my legs and pulled it aside again. “So wet.”

  My heart raced faster. “Yes.”

  “All for me?”

  “Yes.”

  He dipped his head and breathed deeply, then growled like a ravenous beast. His hands gripped my butt, holding firm, and he moved in, dragging his tongue through the center of me.

  I arched against his mouth, crying out—his tongue against my aching flesh was pure heaven. His fingers flexed against my butt cheeks, digging deep, holding me against his mouth. Holding me immobile. There was no wriggle room, no escape from him. He licked me, sucked me, played with me until I was fisting his hair and whimpering.

  “I-I’m going to…”

  His mouth was gone, right before I went over the peak. I cried out, an anguished sound. So achy and desperate for him to make me come. But I didn’t have time to voice my protest because Cash lifted me out of the seat, spun be around, and bent me over the desk. My shorts were torn down my legs a moment later.

  I felt him right behind me, yanking open his jeans.

  His foot went between mine, forcing my legs wider, then the head of his cock was at my opening. He paused and ran his hands over my bare cheeks, and I arched, lifting my ass higher, desperate for him to take me.

  He grunted his approval and thrust in. All the way. Filling me to the root.

  I bucked against him and screamed out, my hands flying to the edge of the desk in front of me and gripping on tight as he dragged his cock almost all the way out and slammed back in. One hand was at my hip, the other sliding to the back of my neck, holding me down as he pounded into me over and over again.

  “My wife wants to be fucked over her desk? That’s what I’ll give her.”

  I gasped and cried out. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

  “Jesus, look at you,” he said, and his voice broke. “So beautiful. The way you take my cock, Riley. Next time you need me like this, you come and get me.”

  “Oh, please. Please. Please, Cash,” I chanted, not knowing what I was begging for, just needing more, more of everything, more of Cash. Always more.

  He bent over me, and one of his hands covered one of my own at the edge of the desk, the other sliding underneath, across my hips, and tugged me back from the edge of the desk.

  His mouth went to my ear. “Can’t get enough of my cock, can you, Riley?”

  “No.”

  “You want it harder, don’t you? Deeper?”

  I sobbed. “Yes. Yes, I need it.”

  “I’ll always give you what you need, wife. Always.”

  Then with a grunt, he gave me what I asked for, fucking me harder, deeper, and I sobbed again. This was amazing. What we had when we were together like this was better than anything I’d ever experienced. But I needed more. I needed Cash to let me see him. Really see him. I wanted what was in his heart.

  And I wanted to make that heart mine.

  I just wasn’t sure he was capable of giving
it to me. If he’d ever open up. If he’d ever let me in.

  Then thinking was impossible as his hand slid lower, his fingers going between my thighs, working my clit.

  My mouth dropped open, and Cash grabbed my chin, turning my head and taking my mouth in a brutal kiss as I came. I fed him my scream, and he groaned as he pulsed deep inside me, grinding, staying deep, prolonging it for both of us.

  When I finally collapsed on the desk, Cash carefully slid from me, lifted me from my prone position, and swung me up into his arms.

  I rested my head against his chest, too weak to wrap my arms around him. But it didn’t matter; Cash had me. He carried me through the house and into the bathroom, and he kept me in his arms as he turned on the shower. While it warmed up, he stripped us both, then stepped inside.

  He held me to him as he lathered me with soap, as he gently washed my hair. Every now and then he’d caress me. His hands sliding over my butt, cupping my breasts, between my legs, pressing kisses to my shoulders, the top of my head, my hand, wherever he could reach.

  “You said your last hug…from your mom was ten years ago. Is that when you lost them, your parents?” I don’t know why I asked, maybe because right then I was feeling so close to him and I wanted to try for that “more” I so desperately needed. He hadn’t really talked about them at all since I’d moved here.

  He stilled behind me.

  “Cash?”

  He cleared his throat.

  “If it’s too painful…”

  “Yeah,” he said abruptly.

  Pain sliced through me. “That’s awful. God, I’m sorry. Losing them in a car crash like that, while they were so far away in the city, must have been incredibly hard. But you never mentioned when it happened, and I…I want to know more. More about you. How long you’d been here without them.” I tried to turn to face him, but he wouldn’t let me.

  “You know how they died?”