Homewrecker (Into the Flames #1)

by Cat Mason

  “Shhh,” I whisper, shooing her with a slap to her ass. “She’ll hear you.”

  Lynsey arches her brow, “Do you think that I give two rabid fucks if that twatswat hears one goddamn thing I have to say?” Waving in her direction, Lyn smiles at her before chuckling. “She has no staying power. We all know that ever since Ivy walked out on Dix before their wedding, he hasn’t tapped a piece more than once.”

  “Except me,” I whisper looking down at my hands remembering the look on Dixon’s face when he had to tell everyone that the wedding was off. You never forget the look on someone’s face when their world is going up in flames. After that, Dixon became harder, colder, especially to people outside of our group. He was still that playful, raunchy guy we all knew, but Ivy ripped at scars that were left from losing his parents. The heart he kept hidden from most people because he had lost so much growing up, was now completely removed from his chest, never to be seen again.

  Lynsey nods. “Yeah, but you’re safe.”

  “Safe?” I ask, not sure what the hell she means by safe. I’m his friend. Married to his best friend. Hell, they grew up like fucking brothers after Dixon’s parents were killed.

  “It’s not like he has to worry about his heart getting involved, you’re already in love with Gunnar.” Tapping my nose with her finger, she winks. “That makes you safe.”

  The thought echoes loudly in my head. Nothing about any of this situation is safe, but God knows I can’t turn away now. I hate that I crave things from both men. Both set me ablaze in ways that I’d sooner give up breathing than do without. I compartmentalize the parts of me that belong to Gunnar when I’m with Dixon and feel nothing but the inferno he instills in me. Then with Gunnar’s touch, I feel it differently, it burns to my very soul and soaks into every fiber of my being. I can’t begin to understand the need for both men, but I know that I feel it growing more and more every day. It’s also pulling me in two in some sick and twisted game of tug of war.

  “Let’s see what we have here.” The woman who was talking to Ava says, spinning me in the chair to face the mirror, knocking Lynsey away. Her hands comb through my hair, and she smiles. “You will look marvelous when I’m done with you, my purple streaked diva. Nothing better to put sass in your step than some bright color.”

  “I can think of something,” Lyn says a bit too loud, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “Dream on sister, because you’re never gonna get it!” Mark sings, doubling over in laughter in front of the rack of expensive shampoos.

  “I’ll make you eat those words along with a bag of dicks, you whorey little butt slut,” Lynsey snaps, glaring daggers in his direction. Mark’s eyes shoot straight to the floor as her words silence him.

  “They do this a lot?” the stylist asks, slipping a cape over me and securing it around my neck.

  I giggle, shaking my head. “This is nothing, just wait until they really get started.”

  Closing my eyes, I relax and chit chat with the stylist, who is named Haven, as she sections off my hair and begins applying the color. When I open them again, I see Lynsey and Mark walking out of the salon doors and heading up the hallway. The assholes have gotten bored with me and my hair intervention and left me, probably to get facials while they talk more shit.

  Traitors.

  ***

  Once my hair is streaked fabulously purple and Lynsey and Mark come back from God knows where, we head for the parking lot. After I drop them off, I head home to get dressed for my night with Gunnar. Of course, not before they tell me again how important it is for me to let a digit slip while I blow my husband’s mind later tonight as a thank you. After flipping them off, and blushing a horrible shade of red, I head home, fully prepared to take my time getting ready so that I look flawless for whatever he has planned.

  Stepping into the house, I stop dead in my tracks. Red and pink rose petals trail through the living room and down the hall. Dropping my bag to the chair, I smile. “Babe?” I yell, looking around, even though I know his truck isn’t in the driveway.

  Following the trail of petals, I stop in the doorway and cover my gaping mouth with one hand as I take in the bedroom. Flameless candles are flickering all over the room and there are flowers everywhere. A beautiful black strapless dress and a pair of silver peep toes sit beside a pink bag on the bed with a post it note stuck on the front. Walking over, I remove the note and read.

  Babe,

  Wear this and be ready at seven.

  Love, G.

  Pinning up my hair, I take a long bath, making sure to take my time pampering my entire body. After brushing out my hair, I curl it into loose spirals, loving the way the purple offsets the brown. I apply my make-up, being sure to make my eyes pop along with adding a sheer gloss to my lips, knowing that Gunnar loves it.

  Pulling the contents from the bag, I slip into the pale pink lace lingerie before pulling on the dress and stepping into the shoes. Standing in front of the full length mirror beside my vanity, I give myself a once over.

  “You look beautiful,” Gunnar says, stepping into the doorway. “Wow, your hair.”

  “You like it?” I ask, looking at him in the reflection of the mirror.

  “I do,” Gunnar says, closing the distance. “Wow, I just, wow. I didn’t expect it, but damn, it’s sexy as hell.” My eyes rake up his body, taking in his blue dress shirt tucked into the waistband of his dark wash jeans. His arms wrap around my middle when he reaches me. Brushing the hair off to expose my neck, he runs his lips along my bare shoulder, pressing kisses along my skin until he reaches my ear. “Happy anniversary, baby.”

  Turning in his embrace, I wrap my arms around his neck then brush my lips over his. “Happy anniversary. Today has been perfect.”

  “That’s just the beginning,” he murmurs against my lips. “I’ve planned an entire night, just the two of us.” Releasing his hold on me, Gunnar takes my hand and leads me from the room. When I expect him to lead me towards the door to the garage, he heads for the patio, confusing me.

  Stopping, he slides open the door before gesturing me to step out in front of him onto the deck. The sun is beginning to set and the entire deck is lit up with more flameless candles. The patio table is set for two with pasta, salad, and bread, and two glasses sit beside an iced bottle of my favorite white wine. I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes at how much effort he has put into the day. Emotion overwhelms me and he must sense it because he wraps an arm around me, pulling me to him. “I wanted to do something special for us tonight. Different,” he emphasizes, brushing his fingers over my cheek. “You put so much of your heart into everything you do, baby. I know that the last few weeks have been crazy for us with school starting and the team scandal shit, and you’ve been my rock. It’s been a rocky patch lately, and I know that is partially on me because I’m preoccupied. That’s why when I started planning for today, all I could think of was showing you the gratitude that I can’t express because words simply aren’t enough to measure how much I love you. That’s the gift I wanted to give you.”

  Tears pool in my eyes again, emotion clogging my throat at the beautiful gesture Gunnar has made. Brushing his thumb beneath my eyes, he catches a tear. Looking down at me, he wraps his arms around me, pulling me flush against his chest. “Hungry?”

  I nod. Gunnar presses his lips to mine quickly before leading me to the table and pulling out my chair. Sitting down, I cross one leg over the other while he pours me a glass of wine before taking the chair beside me.

  Between bites of food, Gunnar and I talk about the day. Once I’ve told him all about the spa, he tells me about fishing with the guys. Reaching over, he grabs a small glass dish and sets it between us. Picking up a spoon, he cracks the caramel glazed crust revealing a rich chocolate tart that has my mouth watering. Lifting a bite to my mouth, he slips it past my parted lips.

  “Mmmm,” I moan when the delicious dessert hits my taste buds.

  Setting down the spoon, Gunnar cups my face in
his hands and takes my mouth with his. His fingers slide into my hair, slipping through the spirals as he holds me to him. “I really need to feel you, baby.” His words have my entire body convulsing, desire coursing through my veins.

  I nod against his lips, not wanting to break the contact. His arms wrap around me as stands, pulling me to my feet. Hoisting me into his arms as if I weighed nothing, he carries me into the house. My lips move along his jaw, my body cradled against his as he moves purposefully down the hallway. I feel safe and secure in his arms, loved and beautiful. His hands roam my body, his fingers brushing over my thighs, pushing my dress up over my ass.

  Gunnar looks up, his eyes meeting mine before going to the mirror. “Beautiful,” he whispers, staring at my ass encased in the pale pink lace thong. Settling me on my feet, Gunnar walks around me, stopping to brush the hair off my neck. His lips run along my shoulder, his hands running up my bare arms slowly. I watch every touch, every brush of his lips in the mirror, frozen in place.

  Pulling the zipper of my dress down, Gunnar lets it fall to my feet on the floor, his eyes hungrily taking in my body. Unfastening my bra, he lets it fall to the floor before cupping my breasts in his hands. His eyes meet mine in the mirror as he nuzzles my neck. My eyes follow the fingers of one hand as they move across my skin slipping into the front of my panties and sliding through my wetness.

  Gunnar circles my clit, his teeth nipping at my earlobe making me moan. His arm wraps firmly around my chest, holding me to him while he continues his slow, methodical movements against my clit. I roll my hips, pressing against his hand wanting more friction, wanting the intensity to match the heat in his eyes.

  “Open wider for me,” he says, adjusting his stance. His tone is harsher than usual, gruffer and almost intimidating if I didn’t know Gunnar like I do. It’s fucking hot.

  I spread my legs farther apart allowing him to slip two fingers inside me. I gasp when they slide in and out slowly, his thumb brushes over my clit as he grinds his rock hard erection into my ass. I’m teetering on the edge of climax, but I don’t want it this way. “I need you, Gunnar,” I moan, wanting to touch him. Needing his skin against mine. Now.

  Covering his hand with mine, I try to halt his movements. I don’t want to come this way, I want to feel him inside me when I do. I want to strip him down and run my hands and mouth all over his body until neither of us can stand it anymore. Then I want to lower myself onto his cock and ride him until we are both left gasping for breath and shattering into a thousand pieces.

  “Jesus, Kennedy,” Gunnar says, almost growling. “That’s fuckin’ hot.”

  Did I say that out loud?

  The low growl from him could be one of the sexiest sounds I have ever heard. His control is teetering on the edge, I can see it in his eyes. Could Lynsey and Mark be right? Is it possible for me to push the boundaries enough to send Gunnar over the edge and get him to stop holding back?

  When his hand slips free of my body, I turn and face him. My eyes draw from his feet up to his face, slowly taking him in. Taking a deep breath, I cup his cock through his jeans causing him to hiss out a breath. My fingers move slowly up his body, making a trail along the buttons of his dress shirt. “My turn,” I whisper. Brushing my lips over the hollow of his throat, I notice how ragged his breathing is.

  My lips press against his chest with every button I free, kissing the bare skin before kneeling in front of him and popping the button of his jeans. Sliding the zipper down, I look up at Gunnar through my lashes and wet my lips with my tongue. He doesn’t move, just watches me and every move that I make as I free his erection from the tight confines of his jeans. I grab his shirt and pull, making it fall to the floor behind him. After tugging his jeans and boxers down his legs I splay my hands on his thighs and push, silently urging him to lie back on the bed. The moment his back hits the mattress, I yank his clothes free and throw them across the room. Gunnar’s eyes stay locked on me, watching every move that I make. When I run my fingers along the inside of his thighs, his cock jerks causing me to lick my lips again.

  Pushing up on my knees, I run my tongue up the length of his shaft. He moans, throwing his arm behind his head so he can watch me. “Damn that feels good, baby.”

  Flexing my fingers into his hips, I take him into my mouth slowly. Humming around him, I swallow when the tip hits the back of my throat. He tenses immediately, and I feel him holding back. It hurts me that he doesn’t let go with me, as if he doesn’t feel comfortable with me. At the same time it pisses me off but I don’t know how to tell him.

  Sliding my hands under his ass, I grip it hard, digging in my nails. Gunnar groans loudly, his hips jerk causing him to plunge deeper into my mouth, almost gagging me and he freezes. Pulling back, I look up at him. “Don’t hold back from me, Gunnar.”

  Wrapping my fingers around the base when I take him back into my mouth, I stroke in rhythm with the movement of my head. I am determined to make him lose his mind, even if it only happens this once. I need to know that I am not crazy, that there is more passion and fire lying beneath the surface that he keeps hidden from me, and it’s not just something I’m imagining. My tongue flattens against his length as I go down, coming back up to flick over the head of his cock while rolling his balls in my hand. He writhes beneath me, arching his back and thrusting his hips for more. I love it. Watching him lose control, seeing what I do to him, it’s fucking sexy. I’m greedy because I want more, seeing him like this has me wanting to find his breaking point more than ever.

  The noises he is making spur me on. Sucking him deeper, I slide my thumb over the seam in his balls, easing it over the skin separating them from his asshole. Gunnar rolls his hips up to meet my mouth and groans, losing himself in the feeling. Taking a deep breath I know if I don’t do it this now, I never will. I continue rubbing circles with my thumb and suck my pinky into my mouth alongside of his cock.

  Popping my finger free I look up to see his head thrown back. I run my lips down his length and draw one of his balls into my mouth, making his hips buck again. Before he has a chance to settle back down against the mattress, I move my pinky against his ass and push gently. The muscles contract around my finger as it goes deeper and Gunnar’s hands fly to my hair, holding me in place.

  “Fuck!” he moans loudly, his voice echoing through the room. For a second he loses himself, letting me explore. All of a sudden it’s like a bucket of cold water has been thrown on him, snapping him out of the moment completely. Letting go of my hair, he grabs my hands and pushes me away. “What the fuck, Kennedy!”

  I back off, leaning back on my calves. The tone in his voice hurts more than him pushing me away. “What?” I ask like I don’t what his issue is.

  Jumping off the bed, Gunnar grabs his pants and pulls them back on as fast as he can. “Shit. Since when the fuck do we cross that boundary?”

  Standing up, I rest my hands on my hips. “Since when do we have boundaries, Gunnar?”

  “I guess since you decided you wanted to put things in my ass.” Running his hands through his hair, he sighs in frustration. “Do we need to renew our vows and have that put in? For better or worse, richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, and without sticking things in your husband’s ass.”

  I laugh. I can’t help it. The thought of standing in front of everyone and saying those words is hilarious to me, but based on the look on his face Gunnar doesn’t feel the same way. It’s not that I want to find it funny, but right now I think if I don’t laugh at the issue, I’ll start crying.

  “This is not at all how I saw this going,” I admit. “Tonight was supposed to be about how much we love each other, how we’ve made it ten years as a married couple. Now you’re freaking out about me trying something new.”

  “We’ve made it ten years because we’re open with each other, Kennedy. Maybe if you had talked to me about wanting to try something new, I would have been able to tell you that I will never be up for having something in my ass. Maybe then, instead o
f fighting like idiots, I’d be making love to you right now.”

  I shake my head and grab my robe from the chair next to the bed. After sliding my arms into the sleeves, I tie the sash and kick out of my heels. “Because if I had asked you to try something different you would have shot me down like you are now. I’d rather risk it and find something I never knew I could love, than say no and never know any different.”

  “How would you like it if I just shoved something in your ass?” He leans back against the wall next to the bathroom door. He’s serious. How does he not realize that it’s something I would like?

  Probably because you’ve never told him.

  Walking past him into the bathroom, I grab the door and look back at him before letting how I feel tumble out of my mouth. “Who knows, maybe I’d fucking love it. But someone is too afraid I’ll fucking break! You’re right, Gunnar, you did make tonight different,” I say, spitting the words he spoke on the deck earlier in his face back at him. I know it’s harsh, but I’m hurt. “Although, I doubt I’ll ever forget this, special probably isn’t the word I’ll use to describe it.”

  I slam the door and lock it, effectively cutting off his chance to say anything unless he wants to have a conversation through the wood. Dropping back, I slide down onto the floor and finally let myself cry. In ten years we’ve had our fair share of fights, but nothing has ever resulted in either one of us walking away before it was resolved. What I don’t understand is how someone that is supposed to know every single thing about me and not judge me, doesn’t. While a person that shouldn’t know anything about me in that sense, understands me without me even having to voice my needs.

  This whole situation is not OK with me.

  “So all I get is a text that says ‘I miss your face’. Is that code for ‘come here, I want to fuck you ‘til you scream’?” I hope that’s what it’s code for, because today that is exactly what I need.