Tee It Up: A Wilder Brothers Romance

by Megan Hetherington

  I trust him. With everything. After he saved me that day and actually, all of his actions since our first date, have proved that he is honest, reliable and caring.

  Those three character traits I declared I wanted in a man, he’s shown me time and time again. Just like he said he would.

  But even so. No ribbon.

  When he texts from the airport I pop the casserole in the oven and when I hear AJ’s truck crunch across the driveway I light the candles I’ve set on the dining table. When AJ beeps the horn and speeds away down the street, I move to the hall.

  I considered setting myself out like Samantha in “Sex and the City” adorned with sushi for a joke. Then I remembered she ended up eating it herself when her date stood her up. So, without tempting fate, and without a particular fondness of sushi, I decide a casserole is the way to go.

  The sexy underwear is hidden under my dress just in case Johnson’s tired out from his first championship win in over two years.

  My heart soars when the front door clicks open and I lay eyes on him. He drops his duffel on the floor and I rush into his arms.

  “Congratulations.” I fling my arms around his neck and he spins me around.

  “I’ve missed you, babe,” he purrs in my ear.

  “Missed you too. Hope you ate none of that plastic food on the airplane?”

  “I’m guessing the correct answer to that is, no?”

  “You guessed right.”

  “You’re not going to make me wait long though, are you, babe?”

  “No, it’s ready whenever you are.”

  “I didn’t mean dinner.”

  “Neither did I.” I pull on the tie that keeps my dress wrapped together at the waist and it parts to reveal my sexy lingerie.

  Johnson’s mouth falls open.

  Silently he reaches out, grabbing hold of each side of my lace covered waist and pulls me roughly into his body.

  “Good,” he growls, “because I’m ravenous.”

  He dips his head onto my neck and kisses all the way up the side; the sensation sending warm pulses down to my pussy.

  I cross one leg over the other and push my thigh up onto his groin. The size of his erection making me gasp.

  His tongue wets across my cheek and forces its way in between my lips and teeth. He claims my mouth, in a way that is light years from those early kisses, when restraint was his middle name.

  Breaking the union of our mouths, he asks, “Shall we go eat?”

  “Thought you’d never ask,” I taunt.

  With his lips still pressed against mine he walks me backwards and in to the living room.

  As we pass the kitchen, I attempt to pull away from him, pushing my palms onto his chest.

  “Casserole?” I joke.

  “Nope.” He shakes his head.

  “How about a drink then? Beer perhaps?”

  “Absolutely not,” he rumbles back. “I made a pledge to always make love to you when I’m sober. So, I can remember everything about it.”

  I release the pressure of my hands and let his chest close against mine. He eventually stops walking me backwards when I hit the side of the sofa.

  “So I can remember, every last kiss.”

  He trails kisses from the end of my nose, across my aching lips, over my chin and down my neck.

  “Every single lick.”

  He tongues a line down my chest and in between my cleavage.

  “Every darn tweak.”

  He pushes a hand into my bra and rolls a nipple in between his finger and thumb.

  “Every slow rub.”

  His other hand grazes across my stomach and down onto my mound, cupping it and rubbing the heel of his palm up and down the middle.

  His thumb pulls my panties aside and his longest finger pushes into my heat.

  “Every. Fucking. Wet. Hot. Stroke.”

  Twisting and curling his finger in just the right place.

  I fumble with the zipper on his pants, hardly able to concentrate from the hot way he is ravishing me.

  “Johnson. I can’t…” My ability to speak falters when he drops to his knees, pushing me back onto the seat cushions and putting his mouth onto my pussy.

  “Don’t worry about it. I will be down here for a while, anyway.”

  .

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Johnson

  The acrid smell of the burnt-out candles, melted down the glass holders pervades the air, but it doesn’t detract in the slightest from the delicious smell from my bowl of casserole.

  Eating dinner on the sofa in my boxers with my girlfriend next to me in sexy lingerie is a definite first.

  Usually my anxieties about perfection in such a situation would have taken over, requiring us to eat at the dining table. But not tonight. Because this is the new perfect.

  “So, I’ve come up with an idea.” She sets her fork down in her bowl.

  “Okay, I’m listening.” And regarding the twinkle of excitement in her eyes.

  “Obviously I need to find a job.”

  I resist rolling my eyes because she need not find a job. Not because of money anyhow. Although I understand she has a career and wants to remain fulfilled, I worry she will put herself in danger again.

  “Go on.” My response as non-committal as I can make it.

  “But I can’t get passed that awful incident with Dale Simmons.”

  I place my bowl down on the low table in front of me, so I’m ready to pull her into my arms at the slightest hint of distress.

  “So, I’ve been evaluating how I can continue to consult but in a safer environment. And…,” she hesitates. Probably because she perceives I won’t approve, which is so far away from the truth. If there’s one thing I’ve learnt about relationships, and trust me I’ve come to understand there are several important points I have to observe when in a trusting and equal relationship. But if I had to put one thing up there, it would be respect. Respect for opinions, respect for emotions, the whole shebang. So, whatever she is about to reveal I will respect it.

  “And I may have found a gap in the market that would be perfect for me.”

  She puts her bowl down too.

  “Counselling female sports personalities.”

  I waste no time before giving my response because a resounding, yes, is all that is appropriate. Not only out of respect, but because the idea is sound.

  “That’s a fantastic idea, babe. How can I help you with it?”

  “Perhaps with contacts and also in the early days I was wondering about maybe working from home.” She furrows her brow.

  “Sure…” My initial reaction is tempered by her facial expression. “You do mean home as in here, don’t you?”

  “We haven’t had a discussion on that yet.” Her voice hesitant.

  My heart sinks. The thought of her moving out is knotting my insides in a bad way.

  “Babe, I would love, more than anything for you to call this your home. And for you to work from here. But if it’s a step too far I understand. If you want me to sell this place and move somewhere new together that is perfectly okay too. The only thing I would be unhappy about, and it’s selfish I admit, is not having you with me.”

  The smile on her face starts off small and as it grows wider my heart thuds to prepare for a normal beat when she hopefully tells me she wants that too.

  “No, Johnson.”

  The pain in my chest sears outwards.

  “I could never do that,” she says.

  I go to protest but my mouth is dry and my mind confused as to why the words she is using don’t match up with the look of joy on her face. Is she twisting the final knife of fate for all the wrongdoings I’ve subjected women to?

  “You love this place, Johnson, it is your perfect home.” She reaches out and squeezes my hand in that final act of apology she’s about to give when she attempts to let me down gently. “I could never ask you to leave here.”

  My heart has surely stopped now.

  “So,
yes, if it is okay with you, and I hope this isn’t a step too far for you… I would love to move in here properly and take over your office as my temporary place of work.”

  Every ounce of blood that has drained from my head whooshes back in one ear deafening clap.

  “Jeez, woman!” I grab her upper arms and pull her on top of me. “You had me going for a second there. It’s more than okay. It’s perfect.”

  “Aw, thank you Johnson.” She peppers kisses all over my face. “I promise I won’t touch all your trophies.”

  “I don’t care if you do. In fact, I can relegate them to the garage.”

  The cat comes to see what all the commotion is about, jumping up onto Meredith’s back, before settling down on the arm of the sofa and looking over us like we are children.

  ✽✽✽

  A week later and we’ve got the builders in.

  Two sets.

  One set she’s aware of, installing bookshelves with one of those ladder things that took me an age to source. And also to fit a new door direct from the entrance hall into the office. So she can see clients without them traipsing through our living space.

  The second set I’m about to show her.

  “Close your eyes, Meredith.” I’m walking backwards up the stairs, leading her with both of her hands in mine.

  “Isn’t this dangerous?”

  “No, not at all. I’ve got you.”

  “Well, shouldn’t we should wait until the builders have left for the day before you and me have some alone time?” She chuckles at her inference.

  “No, because the builders will be there too.” I retort.

  “What!” She snaps her eyes open. “I don’t think so! As much as I’ll do anything for you, Johnson Wilder, I draw a line at that!”

  Above us on the landing, a builder scoots his head back into the guest bedroom, shocked by her remark.

  “No.” I chuckle, “I knew you would think that. Come on, trust me. Close your eyes.”

  She flutters her eyelids shut and blows out a breath. “You’d better not be duping me here.”

  “As if.”

  I lead her into the guest room and take hold of her shoulders, pointing her toward the newly sectioned off wall.

  “Here you go. Everything in this relationship is equal now.”

  She opens her eyes and gasps at the transformation of a whole room decked out for her. There’s a wall lined with mirrors, a dressing table and a closet even bigger than mine.

  She claps her hands. “But this is bigger than your closet. How can that be equal?”

  “Believe me Meredith, it is.”

  Epilogue

  Meredith

  Johnson seems at ease stood at the font holding little Adar, whose delectably cute feet are kicking from under the christening gown.

  The mother and father, weary from a succession of sleepless nights, watch on with gratuitous caution. Their choice of god-father obvious but nonetheless meaningful.

  There was probably a time that Johnson’s status was justifiably questioned, but that time has passed. He is now, and forever will be, revered as the head of the Wilder family.

  To have saved himself from the brink of self-destruction is no mean feat and one their father has not managed to achieve. That earns Johnson his place at the head of the table, and more.

  Each brother has their own tribulations, but not all have mastered them.

  Blane had a charmed life, or so he thought, riding the crest of a social media storm. Only to have to re-design it from the core when it was blown apart. All with the help of the beautiful Yasmin, of course, who has given new meaning to his life in a way only a woman can.

  Now it’s Miles’ turn. Used to being one half of a pair. He’s now on his own and being half of nothing isn’t enough to thrive in this world.

  I study him, there on his own. A beautiful copy of his twin, but the sadness in his eyes belies his appearance which is schooled to convince everyone he is a care free spirit, not to be tied down to anyone or anything.

  However, it’s not my place to counsel, that would overstep my position. I’m here as one of two sisters the Wilder boys and their mother have extended their loving arms to include.

  Johnson winks over at me and I go to his side.

  “Suits you,” I murmur in his ear.

  “Here.” He carefully passes the baby into my arms, swathing the white cotton blanket around his bare arms. “Let’s see if it suits you too.”

  “No Johnson. I can’t.” The fragility of any baby enough to give me palpitations.

  The small family group on the other side of the font all smiling at me, stops my protestations.

  “Of course you can, Meredith,” Johnson whispers, “and you know how I like to practice. We can start this afternoon if you like. I’m sure there is a particular technique to becoming pregnant, which will need testing over and over again.”

  “I can’t possibly. I’ve got work to catch up on.”

  But I recognise the wickedness in Johnson’s eyes and I’m not the slightest bit shocked when he reveals. “Hmm. That’s got me thinking. Did I ever tell you how when I first came to see you I had visions of fucking you over your desk? Well now your desk is in our home I think we should make that fantasy come true.”

  “Shhh.” I hiss at him, pulling the baby into my bosom and placing a palm over his ear. “Adar doesn’t need to hear you say such things.”

  Johnson chuckles.

  The End

  Author Profile

  I’m a wife and mum who loves losing myself in romantic fantasy. Writing is my passion and I do it listening music and drinking coffee (who am I kidding, more likely to be red wine). I also love to travel and places I've been often pop up in my books. When I've got a deadline to meet, I can usually be found gardening or watching historical romance films.

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  Other books:

  Angel Duet:

  Falling for his Angel

  Loving his Angel

  Standalone:

  Into The Light

  Novella:

  Love on an Island

  A Wilder Brothers Romance Series:

  Pump It Up

  Ramp It Up (read on for first chapter)

  Paint It Up

  Chapter One –

  Ramp It Up

  Miles Wilder

  Stood alone on top of a mountain ridge, about to drop a cliff, is as exhilarating as it gets. Nothing beats this high and believe me, I’ve tried. Every summer I test it all, from extreme biking to hang gliding to surfing. And none of them come close.

  Today, the high-altitude blasts are brutal; forcing excessive air into my lungs and making me gasp with each intake. With a padded finger and thumb, I hitch up my neck warmer onto my battered face, scrubbing at my top lip when breath from my nose wets the fleecy fabric. Then, I focus my hearing on the expected shrill of the starter horn.

  My heart thuds when I sense I’m close to shuffling my waxed board onto the glassy strip which will send me racing downhill at over one hundred miles per hour. And I don’t need to bore you with the science behind it, even though it was the only physics lesson I understood, Newton’s the guy and five g is the measure.

  I look over my home terrain, familiar with every ridge and crevice like the contours on my dick. But I accept I can’t be complacent. Because every now and then nature decides to stick its middle finger up and with an extra breath of wind and an additional smattering of snow the line of the run changes.

  Case in point today. Mother nature has shown up. Big
time.

  This last hour, I’ve watched ten other contestants stand where I am now. Each mis-judging the way today’s run will pan out. And that makes me smile. Because this is my mountain and despite the unpredictable conditions I could board blindfolded and still make it to the bottom.

  If you think I’m arrogant, then you’re very much mistaken. The reverence I feel for this mountain is unrivalled. Every cell in my being screams this could be my last few minutes on this planet and that’s what gets me. Every goddamn time. That sense of knowing it could all be over, and then doing it anyway.

  So here goes. I pull down my goggles, rocking them into position and take my last breath. Or the last breath I expect to fully control for the next three hundred seconds, anyway.

  Five minutes later, when I skim out into the finishing enclosure, my heart is beating out of my chest and my throat hoarse from excitement.

  My ten-tooth smile, revealed when I pull down the snow encrusted snood, is all natural, and reflected back to me by my crew who are stood in a semi-circle awaiting my descent.

  Krista is in the middle of the arc, jumping up and down and thumping together her mittened hands. I push the goggles on to my head and hook my arm around her neck so I can pull her in close.

  “That was awesome, Miles.” She throws her padded arms around my back.

  “A total buzz.” I agree, showing her how much of one with my lips, before the rest of the crew stop me by pummeling my arms and rubbing my head in their usual congratulatory fashion.

  “You fucking owned that dude!” Jay screams into my face.

  We all wait for the last entrant to finish his descent. He takes a line similar to mine, but without as much daring he is forced to make a number of butt checks which slow down his overall time. Thankfully, he gets down safely though.