Thousand Yard Bride

by Nora Flite

  I was frozen to the spot. My tongue weighed as much as a gravestone.

  "Jo," he said firmly. Whenever he said my name, my lips tingled like I'd been playing a harmonica. "I know we haven't had a real chance to discuss this fucked up thing we're doing, but I've got a sense that you think I'm playing with you. I'm not. Even if this marriage is forced or fake or whatever you want to call it, I'm still obsessed with you."

  Obsessed. What a word. It stamped onto my soul and stayed there.

  The amber in his irises was dark like burnt caramel. I wondered if he'd taste like candy. Breathing out, I said, "You don't know me."

  Between us, he clasped my fingers tighter. "But I will."

  The car had stopped but I couldn't tell because my entire world had gone still. Everything had shrunk to a pinpoint that contained Hunter and only Hunter. With his hair fixed into place and his clothes sharply ironed, he was as clean-cut as a prince.

  A prince that ruled the world with his football skills.

  His smiles.

  And his stupidly perfect cock.

  "You just turned really red," he whispered on my cheek. There was sin living in his quirking lips. "Are you thinking dirty thoughts about me?"

  The car door opened; I flew right out of it, saying, "Nope. Just trying not to laugh at you." It was an ugly lie and the grin he wore said he didn't buy it. Fluffing my dress, I looked up at the mansion stretching over me.

  The bottom half was all pale stones, the rest a dove-grey turning yellow from the shining lamps in the trees and grass. Up and down the block there were expensive cars parked; I expected to find a valet, had to remind myself this was a house party and not a Gala at some museum.

  Hunter moved beside me, wrapping his elbow with mine like it was second nature. He tugged me—I stumbled, still off balance with my ankle. The brace was hidden by the long layers, and if anything, I still walked better than I did when wearing tall heels.

  "This is gorgeous," I said in a hushed tone.

  "Wait till you see the inside."

  I started to respond—walking through the front doors sucked my voice away. I’d gone through a portal to another universe. To the right, the foyer opened up into a grand ballroom which led out to the veranda. To the left was the formal dining room. Everything was marble with gilded gold. Oil paintings and tapestries adorned the walls. I thought places like this only existed in storybooks or on British television.

  Victoria and Hunter Sr. approached us as we entered. Both of them were dressed to the nines—she in her dignified pearl and turquoise gown, and him in a black suit that matched his son's, though Hunter wore it better.

  I suddenly found myself wishing that I'd watched more Downton Abbey or had taken an etiquette class. Everyone in the room looked so proper in their finery. I was an imposter here.

  “Jo, you look lovely,” Victoria said.

  “Thanks—er, thank you so much,” I responded.

  Her husband offered me a smile crafted from plastic. I was sure it had taken years of practice to pull off such a fond look for a person he must hate. "Good to see you, future daughter-in-law."

  Hunter squeezed my hand. It infused me with courage, and I said, "I'm glad for the chance to get to know you better."

  His eyes said he knew I was lying. My smile said I was just doing what he wanted.

  Victoria eyed us both, then she snatched my wrist and freed me from her son. "Come along, I have so many people to introduce you to." As she whisked me away from Hunter, I tossed a look at him that said Help me.

  His tiny shrug made it clear I was on my own.

  Victoria marched me into the ballroom, introducing me to all kinds of socialites and dignitaries. I'd never remember any of them. I tried to keep a smile on my face but I felt entirely out of my element. This was nothing like working a room for a client.

  I'm the one who needs a P.R. rep to keep me afloat, ugh. Every time I tried to escape to look for Lanie—or any of my coworkers I'd coerced into signing my guest list last minute—Victoria would summon me to meet someone else. I finally convinced her that I had to find the ‘powder room.’

  Stumbling into one of the many bathrooms, I yanked out my phone and texted my sister.

  Me: Are you here?

  Lanie: Cute guys. Rich guys. Best party.

  I rolled my eyes, telling her to meet me in the bathroom. Seconds later, someone rapped their knuckles joyfully on the wood. In a rush I yanked my sister inside, terrified Victoria would spot me and parade me around again.

  Lanie laughed, flying to the mirror to fix her hair. “This party is great! I just got the phone number of some kind of hot captain of industry or something. I don't even know his name. Francis or Frackis or something ridiculous."

  “Glad you’re having fun. I have no idea what I’m doing.”

  “You’re doing just fine. That dress is doing most of the work for you, sis. But where’s your faithful betrothed?”

  Leaning against the glass shower door, I sighed. “I don't even know. His mother has been blocking me in all night."

  “Jo, you need to make more of an effort. I know the whole situation is totally weird but just remember how hot he is."

  Laughing, I palmed my forehead. I couldn't even be that annoyed about her reasoning. It was so Lanie. "Uh huh. Go on."

  Using her reflection, she applied more lipstick. "It’s called being optimistic. Sure you have to marry him, but he's great in bed, isn't he? Didn't you say that? I think you said that.”

  “You’re gross, and a little drunk.”

  "It's only been three drinks. I can't turn those waiters with their fancy trays down!"

  Tapping my fingers on my arm, I said, “There's more to marriage than sex."

  "Sure. Saving your career is a bonus."

  Making a face, I hung my head. "Your honesty burns."

  "You're welcome." She tugged at her dress, making her cleavage stand out. "Ready to go back out there?”

  “Nope,” I said.

  “Thought so. Come on, Jo.”

  Lanie pulled me back out into the fray, back toward the ballroom. To my relief, Hunter and Reese intercepted us. “You must be Lanie,” Reese said.

  “That’s me. Sister of the bride."

  “You look stunning. A real lady in red,” he said, turning up the charm.

  She fluffed up with pride, her eyelids drooping as she swayed closer to the fit man in his suit. Hunter and I shared a look. “You aren’t so bad yourself," Lanie purred.

  I guess this meant Mister Captain of Industry was already forgotten.

  And I guess I was, too, because when Hunter pulled me into a corner away from them, they didn't even glance my way.

  We were alone in the hallway, voices murmuring in the distance and mixing with the music. His eyes flashed, his hand leaving mine and resting on the wall by my ear, cutting me off from being rescued.

  My heart swam up into my throat. "Hey," I said, "What's up?"

  His stare roamed over me, pausing on my lips. As he stared, I became conscious of how dry my mouth was. I licked my bottom lip; he breathed out softly. "I was going to warn you about my dad and his toasts, but now I've got other things on my mind."

  His knee touched mine. Hunter bent his elbow, his shadow weighing on me just before the light contact of his chest did. The air in my lungs washed away. Heat spread down my stomach and between my thighs.

  Why the hell did I react to him so easily?

  It infuriated me.

  I never wanted it to end.

  "Wait," I whispered, then louder, "What toast?"

  Hunter waited a beat—like he was debating not answering me and doing something else with his lips. Leaning back, he didn't hide his regret. He hadn't wanted to stop, but my reminder had made him. "He's a jackass, thinks he's funny. I wanted you to know that before you heard him going off."

  I didn’t know what he meant by that but it didn’t take long for me to find out. I heard the clinking of glasses downstairs, the music cutting sho
rt. "Come on," I said, shoving around him. Hunter followed me to the ballroom where a spotlight landed on us like we were fugitives running from the law.

  I jumped back, one arm raised nervously. Mr. Daniels was standing in his shiny tux in the middle of the room, Victoria was nearby. I could tell by her worried expression that she shared Hunter’s fear regarding the toast.

  Mr. Daniels cleared his throat. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for coming out to this rather spur-of-the-moment event, but you know that's how Hunter Junior can be." That brought out a polite wave of laughter, everyone watching us closely. I started to sweat. "Can you imagine how surprised I was when he announced that he and Joanne had been dating under our noses?” He let out a loud guffaw. "Dating. He was worried the news would scare me, like he'd forgotten every other wild headline I'd endured."

  I looked around the crowd to see everyone’s awkward smiles. Clearly I wasn’t the only one who felt uncomfortable. I caught sight of Lanie in the crowd—she wasn't impressed by this display at all. If anything, she was horrified.

  Deep down, I thought, Now you see why this isn't so easy. Look at this family and what I'm marrying into.

  Mr. Daniels continued, “And what about his bride-to-be? Isn’t she lovely? One day she’s a nobody and tomorrow she'll be on every magazine cover. Can you imagine that? I bet everyone would love to get as famous so quickly!"

  Hunter snatched the microphone from his father’s hand. There were a few gasps from the audience; his father went beet red, eyebrows furrowing tightly.

  But Hunter just flashed his award winning grin and turned his back on him. “Thanks, Dad, but since I know Jo just a little bit better than you, maybe I should take over.” He winked at me, and I smiled the way everyone expected me to.

  Except it was a real smile.

  Hunter said, “I want to tell you guys what a hardworking and driven woman she is. Jo’s going to make me a better person. In fact, she’s already changed my life more than you can even imagine.”

  His eyes warmed, his hand motioning for me. Nervously, I took my place next to him in the middle of the room. I looked out at the crowd, out at everyone watching us. This was a room full of pretend people all clawing at each other to reach the top.

  I stood among them, acting like an equal—like I belonged.

  But I didn't.

  However, standing next to Hunter, I didn't feel . . . alone. We were perched there as if we were on the one solid rock in the middle of the ocean.

  Hunter took my hand, lifting it to show off the ring. Again, I wondered if he was acting or if this was real for him. I hated not knowing. “Let’s hear it for the future Mrs. Daniels!”

  Just then I felt my stomach turn on me. I could sense that I had to run to the bathroom or else I’d puke all over the ballroom floor. I squealed, “Excuse me!” as I elbowed my way through the crowd, barely making it in time to the bathroom to throw up. I wanted to stay in there for the rest of the night. I was humiliated.

  I was staring at my tear-stained face in the mirror when Hunter slipped into the room holding a ginger ale. “I just wanted to give you this—for your stomach. I also wanted to see if you were OK. You honestly did great out there. Look at it this way, it could have been worse. You could have puked on Dad during his asshole speech. Actually, that might have been the way to go.”

  I laughed, my throat burning. I drank from the glass eagerly. “Thanks, Hunter. You really aren’t anything like him, are you?”

  “I try not to be. Hey, let me take you home. We showed off enough for everyone already."

  “Yeah,” I answered. “I’d like that.”

  Before Hunter and I left, I looked around for Lanie. I couldn't find her in the crowd of socialites, so I sent her a text.

  Me: Heading home. You cool on your own?

  Lanie: Think I’m gonna stay. Food’s not half bad! Canapes everywhere! Om nom nom nom.

  The ride from the sprawling estate to my humble neighborhood felt more comfortable in Hunter's car instead of the limo. The fresh air through the open windows made my nausea mostly go away. However, the wind forced my hair out of its up-do. I pulled the pins out as there was no use in trying to keep it out of my face.

  Hunter glanced at me, then back at the road. “You look really pretty with your hair down, Jo.” His sincere expression turned into a mischievous smile. “Hot, actually.”

  Touching my stomach, I said, "Seeing me throwing up didn't ruin it for you?"

  "Are you asking if I'm into pregnant chicks?"

  He was trying to be light. So of course, I had to go and ruin it. "I'm asking if it made it real for you yet."

  The car swerved, my stomach floating away with the rush of it. Hunter's car kicked up dirt on the side of the road; I jerked against my seat belt at the sudden stop. There was nothing around us but trees. Nothing on the stretch of road for the headlights to illuminate.

  Nothing to distract me from how intensely he was looking my way.

  "You're trying to scare me off," he said, biting the words into chunks. "Is that it?"

  "Hunter—"

  "You won't." He paused, never blinking as he forced me to lock our eyes. "You can't. It's not even possible. What I don't get is why you'd even try. Isn't the whole point of this charade to keep our futures safe?"

  Charade. It was an ugly word. A real word. Hunter had cut me to the quick and pulled out the black and bitter truth of our little game. Good, I thought sullenly. Fine. That's the way it has to be. At least he's honest. "You're right. I'll quit being so difficult."

  "Difficult," he spat, scratching at his head. He was scowling and he was still fucking beautiful while he did it. "I don't think you're hearing a word I'm saying."

  "I am. You nailed it, Mister King of Diamonds." Hunter flinched but I ignored my rusty-guilt-tasting tongue. "This is a charade. Fake. I'll go back to smiling and pretending I'm in love, just like you are."

  I was ready for him to snap at me. To frown or shout or drive us off without a word.

  I wasn't ready for him to cup my cheeks and yank me towards him. He didn't kiss me, he just crushed our noses together, his voice burning me like an iron I'd left too long in the fire. "You think it's pretend? Fuck, Jo. If it was pretend that'd make it so much easier."

  The fire spread, turning my lungs to dust.

  He said, "None of this should have happened. We shouldn't have hooked up but we did. You shouldn't have gotten pregnant but you did. It's all messed up, we're being pulled by our strings just so we can keep going forward. I get that you hate it." He hesitated, then gathered himself and stared me down. "I wish I could hate it. But I don't. I want you as much now as I did at the start, and a forced marriage may disgust you, I get that—but I can't lie."

  "Don't," I begged, terrified of hearing this—of what it would do to me.

  Our lips brushed; my heart and my belly convulsed. "I love this. The ring, the baby, us . . . and you."

  I could see nothing but him, then nothing at all. The string between us pulled, I breathed in, leaning forward to taste his stupid honest mouth because how could he do this? How could he say he loved me?

  Hunter gripped the hair on my neck—needles ricocheted up my spine. "Tell me you love me," he growled. "Tell me this isn't all a game for you."

  It hit me then, the fact that he'd been thinking the same things about me that I was about him. We'd both thought the other was in this for self-preservation.

  I ignored the pain of my hair tearing as I pressed forward to tangle my lips on his. I was lightheaded from the moment—the energy of our brutally honest hearts.

  I'd thought sleeping with Hunter Daniels was the biggest mistake of my life.

  Loving him was even worse.

  10

  Hunter

  I'd gone and let it out. I'd pretty much admitted it without even knowing why.

  I could blame how great her breasts looked in that sweetheart dress, or how her lips had this little dip in the center that begged me to kiss it a
nd feel the groove. I knew the truth was that I was becoming hooked.

  I just . . . couldn't explain why.

  So I didn't try.

  Ripping my jacket off, I pushed Jo deeper into the car seat. The glove box balanced her shoulders, her hair sticking to the fogging window. I could see the hollow of her throat shudder from my nearness. Fuck, that was powerful.

  Using all my deliberate patience, I reached behind and worked down the zipper of her dress. Jo pressed her palms to my shoulders; steadying herself, not stopping me.

  "Wait," she breathed out. "A condom—"

  My laugh was wicked. "Now? Are you kidding?"

  Her eyes flashed. In the heat of everything, I think she'd forgotten she was already pregnant. It was the first time I'd ever fucked someone where that wasn't a possible worry. It thrilled me, knowing she had my baby in her. It was twisted and strange and again, I didn't get it, but this dark, deep, ancient bit of me saw her and thought, Mine.

  This woman is mine.

  Spreading her pussy wide with my fingers, I grunted as my cock entered her. She was so tight it was near painful—instead, it drove me wilder. Jo was caught up, too, her nails slicing up my back as she ground her hips upwards.

  She met me fully on, fucking me before I finished my first stroke. "Eager girl," I gasped, bracing my arm on the car window. We were cramped in the front seats, neither of us caring enough to stop.

  "More," she groaned, her lips making a pretty "O" shape.

  "You'll get more, believe me." Gritting my teeth until my jaw ached, I stretched her out with another roll of my hips. Heat swirled up my cock, my balls trembling—tensing. I'd been with plenty of women; none of them were like Jo.

  She was eager . . . real. She wanted me as much as I wanted her, and knowing that spun me in a cycle that encouraged me further. Again, I pumped into her. Again, she shivered and milked my cock.

  Squeezing her ass, I ran my thumb over her puckered hole. Every muscle in her body became steel, her whimper making my dick swell. "Not there," she urged.

  "No?" Chuckling, I stroked her asshole and kept sliding into her warm pussy. "Just like this, a little tease. I won't go in."