Right Amount of Wrong: A Standalone Romance

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Right Amount of Wrong: A Standalone Romance Page 11

by Bijou Hunter


  “You weren’t actually locked in,” he stubbornly points out.

  “Really, Gunnar? You think that makes it okay? I didn’t leave because I thought I could die. You told me that guy might come after me.”

  “I know, but I don’t know how to fix what I did.”

  “You deserve to lose me. You shouldn’t be rewarded for your lies. You see that, right?”

  Gunnar nods slightly, but I’m not buying his sad sack routine.

  “You don’t think you did anything wrong, do you?”

  Turning to me in the car, he sighs. “I knew the entire time it was a weird, wrong way to force you to get to know me. I knew that, but I also knew you and I were special together, and you needed to give me a chance.”

  Crossing my arms, I glance back at the house and wonder if Champagne is spying on me.

  “Can we drive somewhere?”

  “Where do you want to go?”

  “Somewhere quiet where no one can watch us.”

  Gunnar looks ready to ask another question but shifts the SUV into drive instead. I lean my head against the window and watch him.

  “Your mom is really nice.”

  Smiling easier now, Gunnar nods. “Yeah, she is.”

  “She told me to tell you to be patient.”

  “I will be.”

  “How long will you wait?”

  “However long you need. What else am I going to do? I need Vidalia Cornish, and there’s only one of you.”

  I smile like a big dope. Gunnar’s scent relaxes me, and I’ve missed his presence. Back at the double-wide, I always knew he was nearby. I’d often find myself smiling just thinking of him.

  Forgiving him feels both right and wrong. I mean I want him, and he wants me. I know he did wrong. He does too but doesn’t care. The question is how much I care and what I’m willing to do to punish him?

  Gunnar parks on a quiet street not far from his club’s bar. Before he can turn off the car, I’ve opened the door and climbed out.

  “Open the back doors and join me.”

  Gunnar is frowning when I shut the door on him. I hear the locks click, and I open the door. Once in the back seat, I pull off my wet jacket and drop it on the floor.

  “I’m a man, and probably not such a smart one,” Gunnar says, joining me in the back. “As a dumb man, I’m assuming we’re back here so we can fool around.”

  “Your dumb man brain would be correct,” I say, tugging up my nightgown and turning so I can straddle his strong legs. “I missed you.”

  His fingers are under my nightgown before my lips find his. Gunnar caresses my back, teasing my spine and awakening the heat between my legs.

  “You fucked up,” I whisper and grind my slit against his erection. “You’re still on my naughty list, but you’re working your way onto the nice one.”

  “I’ll do whatever you want and give you whatever you need,” he says, pressing his forehead against mine. “Just don’t pull the cold shoulder act again.”

  Cupping his face, I stare into Gunnar’s eyes. Even in the dark SUV, I see their panic.

  “Nothing about you and me is healthy, but I don’t care. I’d rather be happy than healthy, and you make me happy.”

  “I’ll never lie to you again,” he whispers against my lips.

  “Yes, you will. I’ll probably lie too, but we’ll figure everything out.”

  His lips cover mine, and I drink in the man I’ve craved for days. Damp clothes struggle to tear free from our warming bodies, but my panties tear effortlessly in Gunnar’s frantic hand. I don’t think of condoms, not with my forever guy. I only want to feel him inside me.

  Despite my arousal, I struggle with his size. His cock feels massive between my legs, but I won’t be denied. I lift my nightgown and press Gunnar’s hands on my breasts.

  “Do you like my nipples?” I ask him in a rough voice.

  “They taste like candy.”

  “Make them hard, and you can suck them all night long.”

  Gunnar’s hips lift, instinctively seeking more of my heat. Moving slow and steady, I work more of him into my body. Gunnar rolls my tender nipples between his rough fingers, and I feel my entire body light up. Without even trying, my pussy welcomes more of his flesh until I’m completely full.

  “Fuck,” I groan, leaning my head back against the headrest. “I can’t believe my first and only lover is so damn massive.”

  “I am the only man you’ll ever need,” he says and places his hands on my hips to guide me.

  I hold onto his shoulders and follow his lead. Staring into Gunnar’s eyes, I watch him watching me. We aren’t fucking as much as making promises. He crossed lines he shouldn’t have, and I walked away when my fears became too painful. That was the past. This raw moment is the beginning of our future.

  “I love you,” I tell him, moving faster and taking control. “I can’t survive without you.”

  Gunnar nods, unable to explain how much he needed to hear those words. When he finally speaks, all he can say is, “I don’t care if I’m obsessed. You’re worth it.”

  Wrapping my arms around his neck, I grind down on his cock. We both groan from the pressure of my tight pussy tightening around his size. I know he’ll come soon and fill me with his seed.

  Spilling his cum into my welcoming pussy, Gunnar moans my name like I’m both his savior and the end of him. I hold him tightly, comforting him in the way he’s always so willing to do for me.

  “I love you,” I whisper into his ear. “I belong with you.”

  Gunnar nuzzles his head against my shoulder and exhales three days’ worth of worry. I stroke his head and promise I’m his. I might never understand how such a powerful man can fall apart with me, but his desperation mirrors my own, and I’ll be forever grateful for his persistence.

  23

  Ogre

  ⊱✿ ✿⊰

  I haven’t been home since the day I tricked Vidalia into coming with me. My place is a studio with a view of a gas station. My bed has never been made in the entire time I’ve lived here. The sink is full of coffee cups but no plates because I never eat at home.

  If I had any idea Vidalia might walk into my place, I’d have hired someone to scrub it from top to bottom. Instead, I open the door and wait for her to think I’m a slob.

  “We’ll need a bigger place,” Vidalia says, entering the apartment. “I don’t have many things, but pets take space, and you said we could get them, right?”

  Her words are like music. The certainty behind them makes me wonder if she’s drunk, though.

  “What changed?” I ask after locking the door. “You left suddenly, ignored me for days, and now you’re ready to live together.”

  Vidalia shoves a pair of jeans off my bed and sits down. “I’ve been good and done the right things in life. I’ve never been reckless. The night I met you was the first time I’d gotten drunk. One taste of the wrong choice led me into your arms. Your stunt to get me alone was all kinds of wrong, but I was happier than I’ve ever been before. I realize now for me that embracing the wrong choice, you know, like moving in with someone I just met, is the right choice.”

  “So,” I mumble and think over her words, “you’re saying I’m a wrong choice?”

  “Wouldn’t you agree? What kind of right choice man would lie like you did?”

  “And you’re settling for the bad guy?”

  “Gunnar, you ought to be thinking about getting laid now that I’m alone in your place and I’m not wearing panties.”

  Kicking at the floor. I sigh. “I don’t like you thinking I’m a bad choice.”

  “Why, though? You’re a biker in a criminal biker club. You beat people up for a living. You used to fight guys in a frigging cage. You are not the nice boy next door, but that’s okay because I’m not the nice girl next door I pretend to be. I have more fun doing the wrong things. My mom got boring when she fell in love, but I’ve gotten immensely more interesting since meeting you.”

  I scrat
ch my jaw, considering everything she’s saying. Is she embracing the idea of us out of desperation or a last fling before she goes straight? I’ve heard of women hooking up with men like me for the wrong reasons, but I’ve never heard of them so excited about making the wrong choice.

  “What if I go down on you?” I ask, flopping on the bed and nearly bouncing her off. “I could help with the tenderness.”

  Vidalia kicks off her damp shoes and then pulls off her nightgown. “No.”

  “How come?”

  “I’m nervous. Can’t you give me one of your dry shirts and cuddle with me until I feel comfortable?”

  “Wait,” I say, bolting off the bed and hurrying to the closet where I find a T-shirt big enough for her to wear as a dress. “I’ll get you a towel for your hair.”

  Rushing to the bathroom, I dig through my linen closet and search for a non-stained towel. I finally give up and grab whatever’s closest. By the time I return to the main room, Vidalia is wearing my shirt and nothing else. Resting on her back with her knees swinging in the air, she gives me a delicious view of her lack of panties.

  I crawl onto the bed and help her wrap her long hair in the towel. “One of the club’s old ladies is a realtor. She can help us find a new place.”

  Vidalia takes my hand and places it on her stomach. “What do you see for our future? Is it full of insane hopes or are there things we can actually have?”

  “I only see you. You’re what I want.”

  “What if you stop wanting me?” she asks and then throws up her hand. “No, don’t answer that. Those kinds of worries are for the right thinking Vi. She isn’t running the show anymore. The wrong thinking Vi is, and she’s jumping into this relationship with both feet.”

  My lips caress her temple, and I inhale her chilled scent. Wrapping her in my arms, I want to warm us both while also keeping her from running if her mind changes again. Vidalia probably knows what I’m doing because she reaches up to tenderly scratch my scalp. Her touch is so gentle that my concerns disappear.

  “You’re going to make a great mama one day,” I whisper after turning off the light and covering us with blankets.

  Vidalia closes her eyes and smiles. “I can see that. I see our babies playing with Heidi’s. Oh, but what if they’re allergic to pets like Reg and my mom?”

  “Who is asking that question? Right thinking or wrong thinking Vidalia?”

  “Yeah, I shouldn’t worry about every possible thing. I’ll embrace what I do know, which is that I love you.”

  Vidalia Cornish loves me. For the first time since I met her, I know she understands how she’s mine, and it’s the greatest fucking feeling in the world.

  24

  Vidalia

  ⊱✿ ✿⊰

  Reg sits on the front porch, watching his kids blow bubbles. Neo and Princess wave at me, but they’re too busy fighting over who has the bigger bubbles to care about my return. Reg can barely acknowledge me with his blue-eyed gaze locked on Gunnar.

  “Reg, this is Gunnar. He’s the guy I’m moving in with.”

  “Well, that was quick,” my brother says, shaking Gunnar’s hand.

  “Do you know where my old suitcase is?”

  “Somewhere in the garage probably.”

  Thinking of the mess I’d have to climb through to find a battered piece of luggage; I shake my head. “No way am I spending an hour digging around for it. I’ll pack up with garbage bags.”

  “What do you do for a living?” Reg asks Gunnar.

  “I’m the accountant for my family’s business.”

  Laughing is the wrong move, but his silly answer sends me into hysterics. Gunnar only smirks while I disappear inside. I hear him asking Reg about the air conditioning business. Men have their way of feeling out each other. With women, we’re a bit blunter.

  “Who the fuck is this guy?” Champagne asks, leaning against the door jamb and rubbing her baby bump.

  “He helped me out, and we’re moving in together.”

  “I never looked at you as selfish, Vi, but you’re putting us in a bad place.”

  “How do you figure?” I ask, shoving my clothes into a garbage bag.

  “How do you think? I finally decide to keep one,” she says, patting her gut, “because I thought we were financially stable. Now you’re up and leaving us with less income. It’s not like I can get rid of it at this point.”

  Frowning at her, I shake my head. “If you weren’t married to my brother and the mother of my niece and nephew, I don’t think I’d like you at all.”

  “Is that why you’re bailing on the family when we need you?”

  Her words ought to sting. I’ve spent years wanting to be useful, but wrong thinking Vi won’t be deterred from wanting something for herself.

  “I’ll still be around to babysit, but I can’t keep living here so that you can have my rent. Besides, this room isn’t big enough for four people. With me gone, there’ll be more room for the kids, and you’ll only miss out on a few hundred a month anyway.”

  “Explain something. I get you want out of the house. But why did you hook up with the first roughneck you meet, but when I introduced you to nice guys, you didn’t want to date. What’s that about?”

  “Champagne,” I ask, holding her gaze, “is there something you want besides to make me feel guilty for leaving?”

  “You should feel guilty.”

  “If you really need my rent money, why can’t you and Diamond open a daycare and watch a few kids? Just one of them at eighty a week will give you as much as I was. Or one of you could get a job.”

  “Bitch,” Champagne hisses. “We took you in when your mom threw you out.”

  “Reg helped me because he’s my brother. You only agreed because you got money for having me here. First from Mom and then me. Did you think I’d live here forever and be your permanent babysitter?”

  Muttering “bitch” again, Champagne walks away while I finish packing. I’m surprised by how everything I own fits into two garbage bags. Despite realizing how little I possess and the burn of Champagne’s bad attitude, I wear a smile when I walk outside.

  “All ready,” I announce.

  Reg is back in his chair, nodding at whatever Gunnar’s saying.

  “Everything okay inside?” my brother asks.

  “Your wife isn’t my biggest fan.”

  Rolling his eyes, Reg sips his beer. “She’s pissed you shared gossip with Fern and not her.”

  “I barely told Fern anything, so assume most of what she shares is bullshit.”

  “Doesn’t matter to me either way,” Reg says, and I believe him. “I’m not interested in gossip about my little sister.”

  “I’ll be staying at Gunnar’s place until we get something bigger.”

  “Are you still going to work at Walmart?”

  “Yes.”

  Gunnar immediately adds, “For now.”

  Taking my bags from me, he says a quick goodbye to Reg. Once he shoves the bags into the SUV, I tell my brother, “We’re having dinner with his family tonight.”

  Reg studies me from the shaded spot under the porch. I wonder if he’s worried about me standing in the sun.

  “You always have a place if you need one,” he finally says.

  “And I’ll help out whenever I can like with babysitting.”

  “You’ll still come around.”

  Reg’s words are meant to comfort his worries more than mine. I smile reassuringly and then tap his foot with mine.

  “I’ll send you our new address soon.”

  Reg nods again, and we share another quiet moment. We didn’t grow up close like some siblings, but Reg was always there when I needed him, and I did my best to make things easy on him. I can’t help wondering what we’ll share now that I’m no longer dependent on him.

  Can I create a closeness with Reg like Gunnar has with Heidi, or are we bound to be the kind of family that only bonds during holidays?

  ⊱✿ ✿⊰

  On
ly days after I move out of the house, I already feel like a new person. This new Vidalia waits for Tawny and Heidi to pick her up for lunch while Gunnar is out riding with Jox and a few club guys. I suspect “riding” is code for them breaking a law or two, but I don’t ask the specifics. No reason to put Gunnar in the tough spot between sharing dangerous info or having to lie.

  Climbing into the back seat of Heidi’s red SUV, I adjust my pale blue skirt. I’ve never enjoyed wearing them before, but that was the old Vi. These days, I’ll give everything a second chance.

  “Any news on the rental front?” Tawny asks once we’re stopped at a light.

  “Gunnar wants a place in your neighborhood, but there isn’t much available.”

  “You might want to consider buying land and a double-wide of your own. Probably be cheaper than finding a place out that way.”

  I only shrug because Gunnar has a very specific idea of where he wants to live. Besides bigger than his studio apartment, I’m open to pretty much anything.

  Tawny finds a spot in the crowded parking lot of the Tex-Mex restaurant. I haven’t eaten a burrito or taco in nearly a decade. The last time gave me food poisoning, and I forever connected that type of food with nearly crapping myself to death.

  We are seated quickly despite the crowd, and Heidi immediately wants to order.

  “Give Vi a chance to look over the menu,” Tawny mumbles while glancing around.

  “Sorry,” Heidi tells me. “I’m hungrier than shit since I started a diet.”

  “You look great,” I quickly say.

  “I’m trying to lose some ass fat. Only like five pounds but if I eat a tiny bit less, my stomach freaks the fuck out. I’m taking a few hours off from eating healthy.”

  “I tried that carb diet once. It wasn’t bad for like a week. Then I got mean, and my skin broke out. If I was going to look like crap on a diet, it defeated the purpose of depriving myself.”

 

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