Not Husband Material

by Violet Paige

  When I could hold myself back no longer, I let my tongue out and ran it along the slit of her pussy, from bottom to top. Her taste was sweet and familiar. It made my mouth water and my heart pound faster.

  My massive frame wanted nothing more than to ram into her and start fucking, but I held myself back. She was by no means a fragile woman, but she needed a delicate touch.

  My wife deserved nothing less, even if she was temporary.

  The second time my tongue ran up her and dove deeper, she moved her hands to my head, lacing her fingers through my hair and pressing me as much as she could to her pussy. She wanted so much, so fast, but I took my time.

  My tongue explored every inch of her at a slow, meandering pace until she was squirming along with the rhythm, begging me with her hips to give her more.

  I got her pussy soaking wet between my tongue and her honey that started wetting my face. Her heady scent grew stronger each time my tongue darted out, and I started to hear soft moaning coming from her.

  She was good and ready, but I wanted to drive her all the way before I entered her. I brought my tongue to her clit and hit it with the tip of my tongue, then again, and again, until I had a steady pace going.

  Her sighs grew longer as I felt her tensing up. Her breathing was hard, and when I glanced up at her, I saw her face cherry-red.

  My cock was so hard I thought it was going to pop out of my pants, but I kept licking her pussy and driving her closer and closer to the edge.

  Finally, as my tongue lavished her clit with attention and lingered on it for nearly half a second with each stroke, I felt her seize up and clench my head with her thighs. She tightened her fingers and tossed her head back, and she brought one hand to her mouth to cover it and muffle the sharp cry as she came, hard.

  I wasted no time.

  While she was still coming, I stood up and let my cock spring free from my pants.

  I pulled her forward and grabbed her hips, flipping her over and bending her over the table just like I promised her I would. Without hesitation, she braced her arms and arched her back to push her ass up at me. Her instincts made me want her all the more.

  The next moment, I took hold of her and penetrated her.

  The new feeling of this angle was incredible. I felt her tighter than ever on me, and it was even easier to pull her up just the way I wanted and start bucking into her. She was so slick that I would have thought we’d been doing foreplay all afternoon.

  I rocked back and forth into her, my heavy, virile balls swinging under us with each thrust. My cock pulsed inside her, and after barely a minute, I felt her insides start to tense up again. She was panting in front of me, and as she started to come again, she desperately grabbed a cloth napkin from the other end of the table and stuffed it in her mouth to keep from screaming at the sensation.

  I felt her shuddering on my cock, and it made my own body groan with pleasure. I reached down and took a fistfull of her hair and held her back as if she was on a leash. She drew in a sharp breath as my cock ground against her g-spot, and I didn’t hold back.

  Back and forth, my bucking rhythm only got harder and faster. I was starting to sweat in my suit, and I didn’t care. She was my wife, and I was going to take her as long and as hard as I wanted, as long as she wanted more.

  And every time she adjusted herself to push her hips up a little more, her whimpering moans begging for it, I knew she wanted all I had to give. That was what made her special.

  Well, one of the many, many things.

  I had thought about doing this with a donor. Someone who’d come with no strings attached. But Haley’s strings were the kind I wanted to get tangled up in and never get out.

  She pushed herself up on her elbows and shoved her ass as far back as I’d let it go. Every time those soft cheeks pressed into me, it drove me into a frenzy. I couldn’t get enough of her. No other woman could affect me like this, and I’d had them all over the world.

  She was so sweet to me that I never wanted to let her go, even though everything in my body was ready to let go.

  “Come inside me, Chase,” she begged me, “please, God, I want us to come together.”

  There wasn’t much inside me that wanted to wait. The wet slapping of my cock in her pussy was music to my ears, but the sound of her coming was the only thing that could be sweeter. I started hitting her g-spot hard and fast.

  The dark, swollen crown of my cock was thick and bulging, and I could feel every inch of her insides that it slid through and pressed against. I’d never felt closer to anyone in my life, and I was going to ride it to the messy end.

  Her panting grew faster, and I knew she was close. I kept up my speed and thrust time and time again, holding her hips up and spearing her hard and fast, over and over until she bit down on her napkin again and started to clench her whole body up.

  At that moment, I looked down at her and let myself utterly release.

  A thick, husky moan left my chest while a ragged sigh of delight left hers, and we came together, my thick come filling her deep, tight pussy with pearly fluid. I didn’t stop thrusting. I bucked into her wildly and hard, and the orgasm was so intense that I felt my powerful legs go weak and nearly buckle.

  When it was over, the smell of our musk was in the air, and we were overwhelmed and exhausted, but so, so satisfied.

  I slowly drew my cock out and flipped her over. Her face was blushing furiously, and she was panting as if she’d just run a marathon. I bent down and licked the honey from her pussy and closed her legs, smiling down at her as she looked up at me.

  “I think this deal’s getting better and better,” my thick voice rumbled.

  Once I had dropped Haley off, it was only a few hours before I was back on my jet, this time on my own and headed to Chicago.

  Of course, in that time, I managed to fit in a little more than just a goodbye kiss for my wife. If it were up to me, I would just keep her with me at all times, impaled on my cock and riding me as hard as she wanted to, but she had business of her own to handle.

  Once I was comfortable in my seat, I opened my laptop and started a conference call with my attorney. He was expecting me, but I’d only given him a few minutes’ notice. It was no surprise to me when he looked a little rushed when his face appeared on the screen.

  “Afternoon, Mr. Hawthorne,” he greeted me with a tight smirk. The nice thing about working with attorneys is that they were usually jaded enough not to try kissing your ass every few seconds.

  “Good to see you, George,” I replied.

  “So, I hear you’ve got some news for me. Another dozen resorts to snatch up last minute?”

  “Better. I just got married.”

  My attorney froze for a moment, then looked up from the folder he was skimming. “Beg pardon?”

  “Yep. Married man now.” I held up my wedding banded finger with a cocky smile. “Proud husband of Mrs. Haley Hawthorne.”

  “Haley-” he started, arching an eyebrow. “That’s not Haley Simmons, is it?”

  I grinned. He stared back at me, not even sure what level of shock to react with.

  “Now, Mr. Hawthorne, as your attorney, I-”

  “Can start getting together some divorce papers, because this marriage is going terribly,” I finished for him, sitting back in my chair. “Changed my mind just now, in fact. I can’t stand to look at her. Biggest mistake of my life, we haven’t stopped fighting since the wedding night, and so on and so on.”

  He narrowed his eyes at me, but I waited for him to open his mouth to speak before I interrupted again.

  “I know it will be a full year before we can actually file for a consensual divorce, but in the meantime, I want to make clear that she will be in full control of the Peppertree Resort I just purchased. Sort out the paperwork for that, and then get the divorce papers ready for next year. I want you to include that the Peppertree goes to her in the divorce, along with any and all funds she needs to finish any renovations on the place that she hasn�
��t completed by that time. Those are the terms she and I have agreed to.”

  My attorney was slowly nodding by the time I was halfway through my speech, typing out a few notes on another screen. “Understood, Mr. Hawthorne. Now, I am...familiar with these kinds of divorces,” he went on carefully, guarding his words. “You’re not paying me to question your methods, but are you absolutely sure that your ‘wife’ will agree to these terms? There’s a lot of ground for her to make this ugly, if relations between the two of you turn ‘more’ sour.”

  “George, one of the reasons I like you so much is that you have total faith in my decisions, or at least, you don’t speak up when you don’t. Let’s keep that trend up.”

  He opened his mouth to protest, but just raised his eyebrows and held up a hand. “Say no more.”

  “I don’t plan to. Have a nice day, George.” I turned off the call and leaned back, picking up my glass of scotch and taking a drink with a smile on my lips.

  All that was left to do now was wait...and figure out how to survive my time away from the best sex I’d had in my life.

  18

  Haley

  Now that I was back at the Peppertree, it almost felt as if nothing had changed. Upon walking into the resort with my suitcase, I went straight upstairs to my suite, got cleaned up, put on my usual casual-professional style of clothing, pulled my hair back into a short ponytail, and got ready to get to work. Before heading downstairs to check in with my employees and do a walk-through, as usual, I decided it was probably a good idea to see what all I had missed.

  I sat down at my desk and opened my email. There were several emails from the bank, from my lawyers. A couple emails from the Vegas chapel, with photos of the wedding. I had to laugh at one of the photos. I had the most panic-stricken look on my face as I clutched the cheap, last-second bouquet handed to me approximately fifteen seconds before I walked down the aisle. It was a pretty fitting photograph for the moment, since I had been both excited and scared out of my mind.

  Then I sat down to check my work voicemail messages, wincing as I pressed the play button. I had a pretty strong feeling there were going to be some lengthy ones. I kept my cell phone number pretty private, only sharing it with friends and family, of which I had very few. The first messages were from confused employees, who had all received emails from the lawyers, as well, informing them that the Peppertree was coming under new management, and that their positions may or not be terminated or altered in the upcoming weeks. I cradled my face in my hands, my head pounding already.

  “Fantastic. That’s just what they need. A lawyer cryptically warning them that they might lose their jobs at any second,” I groaned. For people so caught up with the nitty-gritty details, these lawyers sure seemed to lack common sense.

  “Ms. Simmons, this is Lauren. I-I’m a line cook in the lodge restaurant, if you don’t remember me. I received a very worrisome email from someone named Jim Foster who says he’s an attorney,” sobbed one of the female employees from the kitchen staff. “It says I might get fired. I’m really confused and scared. Did I do something wrong? Is this because I spilled that wine on a customer a week ago? I promise it was an accident. I can do better, I swear. What’s going on? I asked Marco from the cleaning staff where to find you and he said you were gone. What does that mean? Where did you go? Everyone’s calling you but you’re not answering--”

  Beep. The rest of her message was cut off. The next message began.

  “Hey, Ms. Simmons. This is Marco Ruiz, and I’m calling because my staff are all freaking out over these emails the lawyers sent us. I’m sure it was probably just some kind of bad mix-up, but I wanted to talk to you and get the story straight so my employees can relax. Some of them are threatening to quit before you can fire them, but I’m doing my best to keep everybody calm. Please call me back as soon as you can. Thanks.”

  Beep.

  “Is it true? Haley, this is Kat. Please pick up. I heard something from one of the maids about you running off to Las Vegas with some guy? The guy who was staying in that special Presidential suite? She’s just making that up, right? I told her to stop spreading stupid rumors but she swore on her grandmother’s life that it’s true. And then I got that email from Mr. Foster and I got worried. Can you just answer and tell me what’s happening? Did the bank finally screw us over like you thought they might? Please answer me.”

  Beep. I listened to about fifteen or sixteen messages, all from my employees, begging to know if their jobs were in danger and if I had absconded out of state. Just when I had finished playing through every painful second of recordings, there was a sharp knock at the door. I hurried across the room and opened the door to see a couple of the maids standing there with dubious expressions on their faces.

  “So it’s tru.! You’re back from Vegas!” exclaimed one of them. The other, who was a little older, nudged her in the ribs.

  “Tanya, we weren’t supposed to mention that,” she said through gritted teeth. Then, looking at me, she added, “Did you sell the Peppertree? Are we all going to lose out jobs?”

  “No, Kendra,” I sighed. I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Nobody’s losing their job, okay? Everything is fine. There have been some… legal changes, but nothing you all should worry about. I promise. Just carry on like normal, please.”

  “But what about that awful email we all got?” chirped Tanya.

  “That was a mistake on Mr. Foster’s part. I will definitely talk to him about that. He should not have involved all of you,” I assured her.

  “But the newspaper this morning said some guy bought the Peppertree,” Kendra protested. “And it wasn’t a tabloid. It was the real news.”

  “It’s complicated,” I told her. “It’s not what you think. Either way, it won’t affect you at all, I swear.”

  “So you didn’t just marry that hot guy who was staying next door?” Tanya piped up, crossing her arms over her chest defiantly. When had my own employees gotten so suspicious of me suddenly? My jaw dropped. How the hell did they know about that?

  “Oh my God. That’s why you went to Vegas,” breathed Kendra. Her eyes went wide.

  “How romantic,” gasped the younger girl. Kendra scoffed.

  “Romantic? Vegas? Please,” she snorted, rolling her eyes. Then she looked right at me, realizing her mistake. Her face went pale. “Oh God. I’m sorry. That was such a bitchy thing to say. I didn’t mean that.”

  “It’s okay,” I laughed. “A Vegas wedding isn’t particularly romantic to me, either, but between you and me… we just couldn’t wait much longer. You know?” I said, lowering my voice to a conspiratorial whisper. Both girls looked utterly enthralled, full to bursting with the fresh, hot gossip I had just granted them.

  “Holy crap, you did marry the hot guy,” Tanya squealed. “Good job, Ms. Simmons!”

  “Yeah, congratulations. We were all drooling over him when he was at the restaurant,” giggled the older girl. “I guess we shouldn’t talk about him like that anymore, though, since he’s your husband now. Swoon.”

  “Mmhmm. Yep. My new husband,” I agreed. I nodded and forced myself to smile even though I was starting to feel awfully guilty. These poor girls were romanticizing the hell out of a situation they knew nothing about, but I couldn’t tell them the truth and risk shattering the illusion. It was better for everyone if they believed the cover story about Chase and I just being so head over heels in love that we needed to get married right away. Never mind the exchange regarding the Peppertree and an heir to the Hawthorne legacy.

  “So now that the cat’s out of the bag, can we talk about it with everyone else?” asked Kendra. Her eyes were gleaming with excitement. I decided to throw her a bone.

  “Sure. Go for it. Just make sure it doesn’t distract from work, okay?” I told her.

  Now that I had listened to all my work voicemails, I figured it was high time to turn my personal cell phone back on. I had turned it off when we were en route to Vegas and kept it off because, to be quite
honest, I was not looking forward to all the concerned phone calls I would inevitably be receiving. And sure enough, as soon as I plugged in my phone and turned it on, the screen flashed and the whole thing vibrated for about six solid minutes with text messages and missed calls.

  “Wonderful,” I mumbled to myself. I grabbed a little bottle of over-the-counter pain medication and popped a few pills. My headache was already raging, and I knew turning on my cell phone and opening myself up to the ridicule, curiosity, and possible anger of those close to me was absolutely going to make it worse. There were about twenty text messages from my mother and ten from my best friend, Beverly. I read through them and my heart nearly stopped when I saw that she had sent me a link.

  I clicked it and a story on an online news site pulled up. “Oh my God,” I breathed, staring at the headline.

  DAUGHTER OF LATE PEPPERTREE OWNER GEOFFREY SIMMONS WEDS REAL ESTATE MOGUL CHASE HAWTHORNE IN RUSHED VEGAS CEREMONY.

  “I am so screwed,” I muttered, scanning through the article.

  The news story focused mainly on Chase, since he was much more famous than my family was. I was grateful for that. Chase was accustomed to his name in the papers. I was not. At least, not these days. When my father was still alive, we were fairly well-known in our region of Colorado, but nowadays I was more or less a nobody, and I rather liked it that way. Of course, now that my name was associated with Chase’s, things were sure to change.

  I was no longer just the unfortunate daughter of Geoffrey Simmons, I was the mysterious new wife of America’s most eligible bachelor, Chase Hawthorne. I gulped, realizing that I would have to brace for the inevitable jealousy and cruelty people can hurl at the girlfriends and wives of attractive, wealthy, well-known men. It was going to be a lifestyle change, for certain. I only hoped I could learn how to handle it.

  My cell phone started ringing at top volume and I nearly jumped out of my skin. “Geez,” I mumbled. “Why am I so damn jumpy?”