Rent-A Husband

by Everly Ashton

  I unpause the show I was watching but see and hear none of it. I’m too wrapped up in my thoughts.

  What do I say to him? “I’ll call you in August to talk about the wedding”? That feels rude and awkward. Say nothing at all? That seems worse somehow. Ask if he wants to be friends? God, what am I, seven years old on the playground? Tell him I’m attracted to him and see what he says? Absolutely not.

  I’m so deep in thought that I don’t hear him come up beside me, so I startle when I notice him. My hand flies to my chest. “Oh jeez. You scared me.”

  “Sorry about that.” He rubs his palm along the back of his neck.

  “All packed up?” I stand from the couch.

  He motions toward the door where his toolbox sits. “Yeah.”

  “Well, thanks again for all of your help with the bathroom. It really turned out great.”

  “Of course. If you have anything else come up at the house, be sure to give me a call.”

  We awkwardly stand there for a moment and I shift my weight. It’s now or never. Put up or shut up.

  But I can’t bring myself to tell him how I feel. Which is if he walks out that door and I don’t see or talk to him again until the wedding, I’ll feel as though something is missing in my life.

  “All right. I’m gonna head out. Got an early morning.”

  “I’ll see you out.”

  I follow him to the door, where he picks up his toolbox and puts his other hand on the doorknob.

  “Let me know the details for the wedding,” he says, looking at me over his shoulder. He looks as though he wants to say something more but doesn’t. Instead he opens the door and steps outside.

  “Will do.” Great parting words. Such a wordsmith I am.

  I close the door behind him and let my forehead fall against it. Why didn’t I say anything?

  Because you’re chickenshit.

  My internal bitch isn’t wrong. The idea of confessing my feelings for him and being rejected is more than I can handle. I was relying on him to make a move if he’s interested and he didn’t, so I guess that’s all there is to know about that subject.

  I straighten up off the door and turn to go back in the living room when there’s a knock at the door. My forehead wrinkles and I swing the door open, surprised to find Lucas standing there. Before I can say anything, he steps inside and cups my face in his palms.

  “I couldn’t leave without this,” he says in a husky voice.

  He presses his lips to mine and I sink into his kiss, losing myself just like the first time.

  Twenty-Four

  Lucas

  Camila parts her lips and wraps her arms around my neck, melting into me as our tongues meet. It’s been weeks since the first time I kissed her and I swear to God I’ve thought of that kiss every hour since. It’s been a special sort of hell I’ve put myself through, but I had to finish the job first.

  I felt awkward as fuck when I was leaving. Packing up my toolbox, I realized for the first time that I no longer had any viable excuse to see her—at least until the end of August. I’d taken for granted the fact that I would be with her several times a week. No longer would she offer me a beer when I was finished working on the bathroom for the night, nor would we sit around shooting the shit. I wouldn’t be taking her to an event where we had to play the part of a romantic couple for a couple months.

  As I sat in my truck, about to turn the key in the ignition, I realized that it’s now or never. If I didn’t act on my attraction to her now, I never would. And it felt like a regret I’d always carry with me. Even though I’m afraid to hurt her, the pull toward her is impossible to resist.

  When I exited my truck and stalked toward her front door, I told myself that I could figure out some way to make it work. Some way to make sure work was handled and the business was growing and also have a relationship—if she was into it.

  I was pretty sure she was based on the signals I’d been getting, but a guy can never be one-hundred-percent sure.

  I hadn’t planned on kissing her when I reached her door, but there she was and the look of relief on her face when she saw me told me I hadn’t been making up her attraction. She wanted me as much as I wanted her.

  I step us back into the house, our lips still touching, and kick her front door closed. Then I cup her ass and she groans. Our tongues fight for supremacy until she gives in and follows my lead. My dick is like a steel pipe in my pants, and she must be able to feel it. I pull back from our kiss and rest my forehead on hers, trying to control myself.

  “Where is this going?” I murmur.

  If she doesn’t want to have sex, I’m one-hundred-percent cool with that, but I need to back away now or I’m going to be hard for the next twenty-four hours with no relief.

  “My bedroom,” she whispers.

  I crush my lips to hers then pick her up to straddle my waist. She groans when she comes in contact with my hard length, and I squeeze her ass cheeks and walk us toward the back of the house and her bedroom.

  I don’t even bother to look around at the room. My sole focus is this beautiful woman as I lean down and place her on the bed. Her chest heaves with big breaths and her hair is sprawled all around her head as she looks at me, waiting for my next move.

  The first thing I do is remove my shirt because I want to feel her skin touch mine. I’ve had months of barriers between us, and I don’t want them anymore. Her gaze drifts over my bare chest and she bites her lower lip. I’ll take that as a sign that she likes what she sees.

  “Scoot up the bed.” I motion with my hand then remove my shoes, socks, and pants so that all that remains is my boxer briefs. “Your turn.”

  I grin as I crawl up the mattress toward her. Her lids get heavier the closer I get, and it builds my masculine pride. I hook my hands in the waistband of her shorts and tug them down, while she quickly removes her shirt. She’s left in a matching blue lace bra and panties.

  My cock hardens and strains against the cotton of my boxer briefs. Camila’s eyes flare and her tongue licks her bottom lip when she notices.

  I groan. This woman has no idea what she does to me. Crawling my way up her body, I lean in and suck her nipple through the sheer lace of her bra. Her hands dive into my hair and she arches her back for more, which I gladly deliver before moving to her other nipple. I pull at that one with my teeth then soothe the burn with my tongue.

  I draw back to her mewl of a protest and gaze down at her. Her hair is spread out around her and her lips are swollen, her back arched as though her body is begging for more of my touch. She looks wanton, and I squeeze the end of my cock for some relief.

  Next I unhook her bra in the front—god, I love these kind of bras—and peel the lace off to the side, not bothering to remove the delicate fabric completely. Camila holds her breath as I slowly, ever so gently bring my mouth to her bare nipple. She finally exhales when I trace a pattern over the tight bud and her hands lock in my hair again.

  Eventually I trail a path from her breasts down past her navel. When I reach her mound, I inhale deeply, making eye contact with her. I watch as her cheeks pinken.

  “You smell sweet,” I say, hooking my fingers around the lace and tugging her underwear down her long legs, then tossing it somewhere behind me. “I’ve wanted to know what you taste like since we met, Camila.”

  Her mouth drops open a bit. Before I can get distracted thinking about all the things I could do with that open mouth of hers, I force her legs open with my hands and nestle my face between her thighs, spreading her lips with my thumbs to reveal her glistening pink pussy.

  My tongue swipes from her entrance up to her clit, and I hum in the back of my throat at her taste—pure perfection and aphrodisiac at once. Camila moans when I reach her clit, so I spend some time using the end of my tongue to flick it then apply pressure. When I push two fingers into her, she contracts around them and her hand flies into my hair, pulling hard.

  I relish the reaction I’m rewarded with, so I do more
of the same until I can tell that she’s closer. Her eyes squeeze shut and her back arches up off of the mattress as I bring her close then back away over and over again. Her moans become pleading and she begs me to let her come. I grin at her.

  “Please, Lucas, I’ll do anything.”

  The note of desperation in her voice is my undoing, so I give her what she wants, playing her clit as though it’s an instrument I mastered decades ago while fucking her with my fingers. Her body tightens and her walls clench around my fingers. She cries out, practically ripping my hair from the roots while she comes.

  It’s a beautiful sight and I allow myself a minute to commit it to memory, sorry that I waited this long to have it.

  Twenty-Five

  Camila

  It takes me a minute to get my bearings given that I feel as if I’ve been catapulted into space and fallen back to earth.

  I don’t know what that was. I’ve never had an orgasm that intense. One that was so all-consuming I lost myself for a moment. Is this what it’s supposed to be like?

  Man, I’ve been missing out.

  I’m still pulling hard on Lucas’s hair and I release it. “I’m so sorry.”

  He chuckles and sits back on his feet, wiping his glistening mouth and chin with the back of his hand. The image makes my core clench again, and even though I’ve just been completely satisfied, I’m once again desperate and needy for him. There’s something so carnal about what he did that it makes me want him with a ferocity I didn’t know I was capable of.

  “Better than I imagined,” he says with absolutely no self-consciousness, so I try to act like the adult I’m supposed to be and smile at him, though I feel the heat in my cheeks.

  He must notice because he chuckles.

  I want to do for him what he did for me, so I sit up, sliding my bra down my arms and tossing it aside. “I think you need to lose the boxer briefs.”

  He gives me a lopsided grin, stands from the bed, and slides them down his legs, revealing a very large, very erect dick. My mouth literally waters when I see it, and though I didn’t think it was possible, I grow even more wet between my legs.

  He’s perfection, standing at the end of my bed with his long, lean-muscled body, abs that ripple, and that V thing that is so damn hot and leads to the main event. He has a bit of a farmer’s tan from his time spent working outdoors, and when he runs his hand through his ruffled hair, his biceps clench.

  He crawls back up the bed, and when he almost reaches me, I push on his chest so that he’s sitting back on his heels. Lucas exhales roughly when I drop down to my hands and knees in front of him, making my intention known.

  Giving head has never been high on my list of things I want to do in bed, but it’s somehow different with Lucas. I find myself wanting to please him and hear my name fall from his lips. Wanting to know what he tastes like, what he feels like under my tongue.

  So I lean forward and lick him from the base to the tip in one fell swoop. He groans like he’s both enjoying it and like it’s torture. When I close my mouth over the mushroom tip, his eyes close and his head falls back, his hand diving into my hair. I wrap one hand around the base and pump a few times while I work him with my mouth. But it’s only a minute or so before he’s urging me up off of him. I look at him questioningly.

  “The only thing I want more than your mouth on me right now is to be inside you, and if I let you do that much longer, it’s not going to happen.” His rueful grin makes me smile.

  “Do you have a condom?” I ask. I got tested right after Elijah and I split, given that he was messing around on me, and I haven’t been with anyone since, so I know I’m clean. But better safe than sorry.

  “I do.” He climbs off the bed and riffles through his clothing on the floor until he finds his wallet. He pulls out the small plastic wrapper.

  I watch, riveted, while he opens the package, holds the base of his dick, and rolls the latex over the length.

  When he’s done, he stares at me sprawled across the bed. “Damn, Camila, I want you so much.” He sets one knee on the edge of the bed. “I’ve wanted you since we met.”

  His words make me reach to pull him over me, but he shakes his head with a lopsided grin and settles on the bed with his back against my upholstered headboard.

  “I want to watch you ride me,” he says in a deep voice. He takes my hand, pulling me toward him so that I’m straddling his legs.

  Lucas captures one of my nipples in his mouth, biting down slightly then swirling his tongue. A moan of pleasure escapes me, then another one when his fingers slide between my folds, grazing over my clit. I pump my hips, desperate for him.

  “Still so wet for me.” He straightens up and cups my face with one hand while his other holds the base of his cock.

  I position him at my entrance and sink down, unable to take him all in in one thrust. Our eyes are locked and never waver as I continue to work myself down until I reach his base. We breathe each other in while I take a moment to get used to his size. I’m stretched around him, but it’s not painful—in fact, I’ve never felt this full in my life. It’s not long before I have to move, otherwise I’ll go insane.

  I ride him while he plays with my breasts, pinching my nipples between his fingers and laving them with his tongue. His eyes feel almost predatory as I work him, as if I’m his or something, and it only makes me increase my pace.

  His hands drop to my waist and he works me up and down on his cock, so I lean back and let my hands rest on his calves. It stretches me and changes the angle that he hits me inside, and my orgasm builds.

  We’re both sweating and panting as my insides tighten, the humming sensation between my thighs ratcheting up another level. Lucas lets one hand drop from my waist and brings his thumb to my clit, watching me with half drawn eyes while he applies pressure and moves his digit in circles.

  I gasp as everything in me tenses then releases. Lucas’s hand comes around the back of my neck and pulls me into him, his tongue diving into my mouth as I cry out in ecstasy, and I ride out my orgasm while he whispers endearments against my skin.

  His hand pushes through the hair at the back of my head. “Fuck, Camila, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen when you come.”

  I pull away so I can look at him. “Now I want to see what you look like when you come.”

  My orgasm must be giving me confidence I didn’t know I had because even though it’s true, that’s not something I would typically ever say to my partner.

  But after the words have left my mouth, Lucas’s expression darkens and becomes more determined. Without warning, he flips us so that I’m on my back and he’s over me. And then he’s thrusting inside me.

  “Yes,” I whimper, still sensitive from my orgasm. “Yes, harder.”

  He must have been holding back because when I ask for it harder, he slams into me. And god, does it feel amazing to be the thing this man can’t get enough of. He slams into me in a staccato-like beat until he sets a steady pace, driving in and out of me.

  “Fuck, yes,” he says, looking down to where we’re joined. “Yes, Cami, yes.”

  The sound of my nickname on his tongue does something to me, and suddenly I’m tightening around him again, close to another climax.

  He changes his angle for a few thrusts, and that’s all it takes to send me spinning into space again. I come once more on a ragged cry. Lucas follows me, coming and holding himself inside me with one long groan before he collapses on me, careful not to make me take all his weight.

  We lie there for a moment, trying to gain our breath, before Lucas rolls over and off of me, pushing a hand through his sweaty hair. “That was…”

  “Yeah,” is all I manage to say.

  He sits up. “I better go take care of this.” He motions to the condom, then rises from the bed and leaves the room. I watch his solid ass flex as he goes.

  Now that I’m alone in bed, the gravity of what we just did floats to the surface. A question presses at my lip
s from the inside, but I’m not sure whether or not I should voice it. But by the time he returns a minute later and lies down beside me in bed, I know it’s now or never.

  I gather up my nerve and just blurt it out. “So, what exactly does this mean?”

  Lucas blinks a couple of times and stares at me.

  Twenty-Six

  Camila

  It’s not a question I want to ask, but one I desperately need the answer to so that I can set my expectations from the get-go. If this was a one-time thing, I can deal with that, but I need to know now.

  He rolls us over so that I’m on my back and he’s leaning his head on his hand, sprawled beside me on his side. “What do you want it to mean?”

  I shake my head. “Oh no. I asked first, so you have to answer.”

  A deep chuckle rumbles through his chest. “Well, I know I like you. I enjoy spending time with you.” He trails his finger from my temple down across my jawline. “I really liked what we just did.”

  I laugh and bring my hand up to run it through his hair. “Same.”

  “I’d like to explore where this could go for us, but my focus right now has to be my business. We’re at a critical spot in trying to scale the business.”

  I do everything I can not to betray my disappointment, but I’m not sure if I succeed. “Oh, that makes sense. Sure.”

  He looks at me for moment, and though I don’t know what he’s thinking, I’m sure he’s rolling something around in his mind. “But I don’t want to let you go. Do you think there’s some way we could make this work given what I just said?”

  Hope is like a seedling springing its first roots inside my chest. “I think we could try it and see. I don’t need all your attention twenty-four seven, Lucas. And I like that you have your own thing going on and have goals for yourself. I want to be the same.”

  I mean it. I gave everything to Elijah, to the point where I lost myself and stopped doing things that meant something to me. So when he so abruptly set me aside, I was left with nothing—not even the woman I was before we got together. That experience taught me a lesson. In my next relationship, I don’t want to be two halves that make a whole. I want us to be two wholes who choose to come together.