Big Man's Bride (A Small Town Romance)

by Penny Wylder

  Ally moans. “Here is fine.”

  Unbuckling my belt, I pull out my cock, already straining in my pants. “The condoms are upstairs.”

  “I took my pill,” she said. “Do it.”

  I slam up into her, dragging her hips down onto mine, using my new knowledge of her body to hit her exactly where she likes it. “You know what you have to do when we’re like this, Ally.”

  Her eyes are wild, already glazed with pleasure. She shakes her head, not understanding. I wrap my hand around the back of her neck and pull her down for a kiss. She tastes sweet like honey and whiskey, and that flavor of just her that I’ve come to crave like nothing else.

  “You’re going to beg me,” I say against her lips.

  “Never.”

  Thrusting up into her, she’s so wet that I know I’m not going to be able to make this last very long for either of us. “You will.”

  “No,” she says, but her voice is already wavering. I gather her wrists together behind her back, holding them in one of mine as I find her clit with the other. She’ll be begging me in seconds. It’s one of the things I love about Ally, that our chemistry is explosive, and I know how to make her scream, make her come, and I don’t think I’ve ever gotten so much enjoyment out of giving pleasure to anyone.

  I love seeing her so lost that she can’t speak or breathe.

  “Oh fuck,” she moans, her head falling forward onto my shoulder. “Yes. I don’t care. Please make me come.”

  “What was that?”

  “I’m begging you,” she says, voice strained. “Make me come. And then come inside me.”

  Another thing I love about her. She knows exactly how to serve it right back to me. I go blind with lust, fucking her harder, both of us careening toward the edge. “I need to feel your heat, Caleb.” Her words are at my ear. “Make me come and then fill me up, please.” That last word turns into a moan that shifts into a cry as she’s on the edge, holding back until the last second.

  I drive home and press down on her clit, sending over the edge. Ally screams, her voice echoing off the back of the house and down toward the river. I’m only a second behind her, sharp pleasure blasting through my body and into hers as I come. It’s one of the best orgasms that I’ve ever had.

  Her pussy squeezes me in the aftershocks, perfect and hot and so much better without any barrier between us.

  Releasing her wrists, I wrap my arms around her as we breathe together. I think I might love this woman. Honestly and completely.

  The thought stops everything else and it feels like time stands still. It makes sense, and yet it still comes as a shock. I’m in love with Ally.

  She laughs, drawing my attention back to her and the moment. “Well, if we’re not seen around town, at the very least I’m going to be heard.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “When you asked me to do this with you, part of the conditions were that we were seen around town. But other than me going to work and us going to the hardware store, we haven’t done anything particularly notable or visible.”

  She’s right. We haven’t. It kind of slipped my mind because we had fallen into such a nice rhythm that I didn’t want to leave. And we’ve gotten comfortable enough that I hadn’t thought much about meeting my family, even though we are booked on a flight to the Hamptons two days from now.

  Ally is going to hate my family. Aside from the things I’ve already told her, she’ll think they are rich snobs. Because they are, even if I actively fight against the image. It’s a little bit a part of me too.

  But they will hate her, too. Here I am, fully in love with her. This smart, funny, gorgeous woman that I can see by my side for the rest of my life, and the minute she shows up in the sundresses that drive me wild with wanting, and the plain sandals she likes to wear instead of thousand-dollar high heels, they will eat her alive.

  And the minute she sees that, all of her previous assumptions will be confirmed. She’ll go back to thinking what she thought of me the first day we met. That I’m an entitled prick that cares about nothing other than money.

  I hold her closer, praying that I can make her see that I’m different before that happens. Hoping somehow the clock will stop and we never have to board that flight to New York.

  11

  Ally

  Caleb and I drifted off on the loveseat on the back deck after we fucked. When I woke up in the middle of the night, he was gone. He threw a blanket over me, but he left me. And the next morning, something is off. I can’t put my finger on it, but Caleb has subtly changed. It puts a current of anxiety under my skin.

  Every day since the nightmare, he’s done something to draw me toward him. He cleaned out the garden and saved my grandfather’s rose bushes even when I thought they would be lost or dead because of the horrifying overgrowth. He’s left me little gifts and given me little touches that remind me that he’s thinking of me. Caleb is … loving.

  And I’ve carelessly given him pieces of my heart over the past two weeks. Recklessly. And until last night, I’d felt like he’d held them gently and close. Cherishing them in a way that I hadn’t dared hope for.

  But then, after he wrecked me and made me scream for him, he went stiff at the mention that we haven’t gone anywhere or done anything. Like the idea was shocking or horrible.

  Is it really such an awful thing to want to be seen with me? I don’t think it is, given the photographs that the whole country has seen of us getting married and nearly getting naked. But I can’t think of another reason for his reaction.

  Maybe, in spite of everything that we’ve shared, he still thinks of me as nothing but a means to an end. As a means to his money. I’m just the poor girl that he’s duped into helping him.

  My heart rebels against that thought. It doesn’t feel that way between us. It feels like so much more than that. What started off as a tension-filled business arrangement has blossomed into … a life. I’m falling for Caleb Staunton. Hard. And there is basically no way that I’m not going to shatter into a million pieces when we go our separate ways.

  This was always the risk of course, but I thought that it would be easier. I didn’t know how charming he would be or how honest and real. But now, when I look at him, I don’t see the awful rich boy who stole my grandfather’s legacy. I see a man whose first instinct is kindness. Who thinks about me and goes out of his way to try to make me happy.

  God, I am so fucked.

  Standing in the door of our bedroom, I can’t do it. Everything has been so delightfully easy, but I can’t climb into that bed and wait for him to come find me knowing what he thinks of me now. It’s too painful. What is it going to be like with his parents if he doesn’t even want to be seen with me at a restaurant in Nashville? No. I need to start distancing myself so that I’m not just a broken shell at the end of this.

  Even though I want to stay. I’ve grown used to the comfort and warmth of Caleb’s body as I sleep. The easy way he throws his arm over me like I belong there. Like I belong to him.

  Caleb likes to touch me even when he doesn’t realize that he is doing it. When he’s completely asleep, his thumb moves in tiny circles on my skin. I find that touch soothing. Or when he reached for me and pulls me into his embrace in the middle of the dream.

  He hasn’t had any other nightmares since I started sleeping in his room, and I wonder if it’s because I’m there by his side if he reaches out for me. The idea that I make him feel safe sends warm tendrils down through my body.

  I cut off the feeling. I can’t let myself indulge in it if he doesn’t feel the same way. No chance in hell.

  So I change into my pajamas and go to the guest room, which feels painfully empty and lonely even with the new furniture we’ve moved in and the homey touches that I tried to add.

  Even the bed feels colder in comparison to the one in the master bedroom, but I know that I’m projecting that a little bit. This is for the best. It is. I left Caleb downstairs reading and he promised that he’d
come up soon, but he will see, and hopefully understand.

  Turning off the bedside lamp, I turn away from the door and the light shining beneath it like a beacon back to the warmth and safety of everything that I want, and I try to drift off.

  Every thought that surfaces, I brush it away and just let myself sink into sleep. But it doesn’t come easily. Finally, after what feels like hours—though I’m sure isn’t—I can feel it. My mind and body sink it sleep, and I am so relieved.

  A sudden noise makes my heart pound, and I sit up as the bedroom door opens roughly. I’m disoriented. Maybe I was asleep for a second. But all I see is Caleb, silhouetted in the door. Flipping on the lamp, I see the devastated expression on his face.

  He’s breathing hard, trying to fight off some kind of panic. His eyes look hollow like they looked that night—the way they look whenever he’s fully overcome with memories. I can’t send him away. Not when he’s looking at me like that.

  I hold my arms out to him, and he comes to me.

  He’s naked, and hot. Almost feverish. So warm in the cold of this bed that it’s absolutely welcome. He’s always welcome.

  The kiss he presses to my lips is harsh and desperate, but it’s not the same as the wild, animal sex that we had in the midst of the nightmare, but it’s also not the sly kisses he uses to seduce me. This is raw. Full of emotion. I can’t help but respond to that emotion and pull him closer.

  This is why I should send him away. I can’t imagine a time when my body won’t sing for him, picking up the song that he chooses and playing the harmony. It’s as natural as breathing. He responds to me, too. It echoes back and forth between us until neither of us remember what the original song was.

  I’m wearing soft pajama bottoms and a camisole, but the camisole is lifted over my head by Caleb, who instantly seals his mouth against my skin. It’s at once fast and slow. Impossible.

  It hits me with sudden clarity that his touch feels like what I was feeling earlier. Needing more, but knowing that we’re running out of time. I should stop this and save us both some pain. But right now, sending him away or telling him to stop touching me would be the most painful thing that I can imagine.

  At the same time, there’s an aching tenderness to the way he’s touching me. Like he’s trying to savor every second before it’s gone. Caleb’s lips brush across my chest and between my breasts, where he pays attention to each one, licking and sucking until my nipples are hard points. Heat is already building under my skin. If he keeps his attention where it is, it’s entirely possible that I’ll come from him playing with my nipples alone. That’s never happened before to me, but there’s a first time for everything.

  He grazes his teeth across one, and I can’t stop the gasp that flies out of my mouth. Dark eyes are drawn to mine for a moment, before he does it again, back and forth until I’m writhing on the bed and on the verge of begging him to keep going.

  When he does move, his lips don’t leave my skin. They draw down the center of my stomach until they reach the barrier of my pants, and he pulls those away too, discarding my panties along with them. One thing I’ve learned, Caleb always prefers me completely naked. As much skin as possible for him to touch and taste.

  I can count on one hand the number of nights I’ve ended up sleeping with any clothes on at all. And now that they’re gone, I feel more comfortable. It’s crazy how quickly something can become a routine.

  The feeling of his lips on my skin makes me question every thought that I’ve had tonight. Every brush of his mouth is filled with what feels like love, but that can’t be, can it?

  Caleb pushes my legs apart and dives between my thighs like he’s a starving man. I’m already wet for him, so ready to let him make me fall into pleasure that only he’s been able to pull out of me. But he doesn’t. His kisses are soft and gentle, so attentive and slow, it feels like he’s memorizing me.

  He seals his mouth over my clit, sucking with soft pulses that pull moans from my throat. I grab his hair and make sure he doesn’t fucking move. It’s too good to let him go anywhere else. I focus on the way his tongue is stroking, over and over and over until I’m at the edge and ready to fall.

  I don’t though. Caleb pulls away, coming up to meet me, lips at my ear. This time stealing my orgasm isn’t a punishment, it’s a plea. “Wait for me.”

  He wants to do this together. The broken tone of his voice isn’t something I ever want to hear again. I nod. And he thrusts in. I don’t tell him that we’re once again ignoring protection, because I don’t care. I want to feel him just like this, bare and inside me with nothing between us, even if this is the last time that I ever get to do that.

  Drawing my legs up, I wrap them around his waist so I can take him deeper. The way he’s pushing in, everything is smooth and even and confident. He knows the way my body works now and which buttons to press to wring out as much ecstasy from my body as possible.

  Caleb kisses me, silently demanding more. Why does it feel like he’s asking for everything? And why do I feel like I might want to give it to him?

  We move together, no words necessary to rise to the end. But he whispers my name against my lips. It’s both a prayer and a plea. Just my name. Asking me to stay.

  It comes on us at the same moment, a shuddering wave of pleasure that we both feel. It comes crashing down and we cling to each other deeper as it washes over. This isn’t like the other times we’ve had sex. It’s not the wild passion that we’ve shared, or the lazy comfort. This is something that we both need. Visceral and real.

  I love him. I don’t care that I’ll be shattered to a million pieces when he’s gone, I’ll take what I can get. The words are racing past my lips before I can stop them, but I wouldn’t want to anyway.

  “I love you.” It’s nothing but a whisper, but it means the world to me. “I love you. I love you.”

  Caleb’s dark eyes meet mine, sharp and alert in a way they weren’t when he entered the room. He searches my face like he’s looking for the answer to a question that he hasn’t asked. But then … “Are you sure?”

  “Yes,” I say. No hesitation or regret. “I love you.”

  I don’t have a chance to say it again before he captures my lips with his.

  12

  Caleb

  I’m shaking with both adrenaline and exhaustion from the panic I felt and some of the most intimate, satisfying sex that I’ve ever had. Not to mention the fact that Ally she said that she loves me.

  The words bring up unexpected emotions. The words that I’ve heard so few times from anyone. It’s like a dream after thinking the same thing, but I’m still overwhelmed by everything.

  “I don’t know what I thought,” I say. “When I came upstairs and the bedroom was empty, I’ll admit that I panicked. Just… my mind went into overdrive.”

  Her face goes blank for a moment. “I was trying for some distance. After … ”

  “After what?”

  Ally blushes a perfect, delicate pink. “After me mentioning that we hadn’t been seen together. You went stiff and cold and … I thought that you might have been embarrassed. Of us. Of me. And that if you were embarrassed, then you couldn’t possibly feel what I was feeling. And that it would be better to just get some distance now, rather than letting things go too far.”

  I open my mouth to refute her, but she holds a finger to my lips exactly like I did on that first day. “No,” she says, gently smiling. She’s aware of the role reversal as well. “I’m going to talk and you’re going to listen.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I thought that it would be easier this way. But after that…I don’t care. I don’t know if you’re in the same place that I am, or if you ever will be. We’re really different people, but I just want you to know that I’m going to make the most of every moment that I have with you. No matter how it ends.”

  She bites her lip, and her fingers flex on my arms. No matter how confident she sounds, admitting this makes her nervous. “Am I allow
ed to talk now?”

  “Yes,” Ally nods.

  “Good.” I kiss her hard before pressing my forehead against hers. “I don’t know how you could ever think that I would be embarrassed of you.”

  “I don’t know, I just …”

  “I’m just a possessive bastard,” I say, laughing softly. “I like this little bubble we have, here in the house. I guess I just didn’t want to leave. I didn’t want to share you. I fell into this little life we created so deeply that I completely forgot that we were supposed to be going out at all and putting on a show. Because this has felt so real, Ally. But I do want to go out with you. I want to do everything with you, Ally. I’ll take you to concerts and restaurants. The fancy ones and the holes in the wall that only locals know about. I don’t give a fuck about where we go, as long as I’m with you.”

  Running her fingers through my hair, she searches my face. “You had such a bad reaction. What was it about?”

  I sigh. I don’t want to talk about my family, but Ally is it for me. And if I really believe that—and I do—then she’s needs to know everything.

  “I was thinking about my family. You’re going to hate them. They’re exactly the rich, entitled snobs that you think they are, Ally. Exactly who you thought I was when we met. And they’re not exactly going to like you either. It’s not going to be easy. They’re going to judge you, and I was afraid that you’d meet them and think that I was pretending. That I was really just like them, and that you’d go back to thinking that I was just the entitled rich boy. And that would be the thing that made you leave.

  “For what it’s worth,” I say, “I’m hoping I’m wrong. And I’m hoping that they’ll love you.”

  She grins. “I hope that too, but it’s okay if they don’t. I didn’t marry them. I married you. And you said you don’t exactly have plans to see them that often.”