Rich Soldier: The Dirty Thirty Pledge Book 2

by Wylder, Penny

  He looks up from the plans and pins me with a cool gaze. "I hired Wallace because he's strong and capable and has construction experience. Is that a problem?"

  "Of course it's a problem," I hiss, glancing back to make sure that Wallace is occupied on the roof before I continue. "You decided to hire the man that broke my heart and ruined my life to work for us without telling me. I would consider that a problem. It bothers me that you didn't think to even ask if I would be okay with it."

  "You want to take over this company, Tia? Then you need to let this go. If you can’t get over a high school grudge, then you're certainly not going to be able to handle it when clients back out of projects unexpectedly and leave you to handle the mess. Or when suppliers stab you in the back with last minute price changes. Someone running a company needs to be absolutely stable, and you're not showing that right now.

  “Wallace is a good man. Prove to me that you're as strong as I think you are, and work with him. You went through something, but he went through something too. It's not too hard to see that if you're looking for it."

  I take a step back, really not expecting that kind of response. My father has always been on my side and totally encouraging. This is...different. "I wouldn't say that this is a high school grudge."

  "No, you wouldn't," he says, and it's not unkind. "It was a heartbreak. But eventually you have to move on from that. Not everyone gets closure. Some people never will, and you have to be stronger than that."

  I sigh. "Are you planning on keeping him on permanently?"

  "I told him that we'd keep him on for the duration of the projects, and that we'd see after that."

  "Okay."

  There's a moment of silence before my dad gives me a small smile. "You gonna be all right?"

  I scowl at him. "I'll be fine."

  "Good. Then I'm gonna head over to the greenhouse site and take some measurements. See if I can get the supplies dropped there by the end of the day so primary work can start tomorrow."

  "Okay."

  I take his place looking at the plans. It's not a particularly complicated job, it's just a big one. There are a couple of pitfalls, but nothing that I don't think we can avoid. The guys seem to be moving at a good pace, and the few stripping off the old roof seem to be almost there. I can keep myself busy. I don’t have to interact. If my father wants me to hold myself above this, I think that I can. No reason he can work here without me engaging.

  Or so I think.

  The day seems to slip by quickly, and yet it doesn’t. Everywhere I turn, Wallace is there. He's brushing by me to pick up an extra hammer, smiling at me whenever our eyes meet, and in the normal course of conversation is just...flirty. It makes me even more aware of him, how much bigger and built he is than when we were together, the way his shirt rides up when he lifts his arms to show a glimpse of perfectly toned stomach.

  Every time I notice, my irritation at myself grows. First the dreams, where I woke up wet and gasping and wanting more, and now this. He's practically shoving his hotness down my throat, and it makes me angry. Even the thought of him shoving it down my throat makes me angrier because now I'm imagining being on my knees with him, looking up and watching his pleasure because of me.

  I climb down the ladder and grab a soda from the cooler, standing a few yards away. I need to cool off. Why is he doing this? Is he trying to make me mad? Is he just trying to flirt? Is he trying to get some kind of revenge? Because two can play at that game, I know. If he’s going to frustrate me within an inch of my sexual sanity, I can push right back.

  He's there on the roof now, and I watch as he hammers new shingles, his whole body moving in powerful unison. I shiver, tingles rolling down my spine and gathering at my core. Damn it. I can't stop the way I'm reacting, but I'll just have to push through it. Why couldn't this have been different? Why did he have to disappear? Just thinking about it makes my heart ache. We were supposed to go to the movies together. Something so simple, and he never showed. I knew that he was going to go to bootcamp. We talked about it, how we would write letters and call and try to see each other.

  But he never came back. It was like he turned into a ghost. The only reason that I knew he wasn't dead was that the whole town found out that he left his father a note saying that he was joining the army. And that was that. He was gone. No warning, weeks early, without so much as a goodbye.

  It's been years, and I know that something like that really shouldn't hurt after all this time. But I can still feel the hole of those emotions in my chest, so deep that it has ragged edges. I loved Wallace. We were so deeply in love that I couldn't imagine any other person holding a place in my heart. They say you never forget your first love, and I guess that's true. What they don't say is that if your first love hurts you, you never forget that either.

  Wallace slides down the ladder and grabs a bottle of water from the cooler. He raises a hand to me and smiles before he takes the cap off and pours some of it over his head like he's in a fucking commercial. Shit. I feel like I'm melting, and it's not from the heat. I never thought that I'd be uncomfortably wet like this in the middle of the work day, but here we are.

  He knows what he's doing too, the bastard. The cheeky grin he aims at me while drinking some water says enough to me. Pushing my buttons, trying to get under my skin enough to give him a second chance. Maybe he's just trying to do it to drive me crazy. Well, I can play that game, and I will. If I have to be uncomfortably aroused at work, so does he.

  I grab a bottle of water for myself, bending down right in front of him, making sure he gets a clear shot of my ass. He forgets that I know him too, and he's always been an ass man. When I right myself his eyes are a little glazed, and I smirk at him. "Back to work," I say lightly before going back up the ladder with another batch of shingles.

  It's a battle from there. I make sure that Wallace has a good view of me working and I brush by him unnecessarily to reach for tools whenever I can. He gives me slow smiles and subtle muscle flexes and stares that are melting my underwear beneath my clothes. I hate how much it's affecting me, like no matter how much is between us, my body doesn't care. It wants him anyway.

  The work we do is a lot, but it's not enough to get it done by the end of the day. "I can give you guys overtime if you stay to get it done," I tell the crew, but none of them can. Some of them have other commitments, and I know a couple of them don't take overtime because they're afraid of regular hours getting cut.

  "I can." The voice comes from behind me, and of course it's Wallace. “You don’t even have to pay me.”

  I smile, but it's not real. I'm hiding my nerves. "Great. We'll see if we can get a bit more done. We'll just have to get it finished in the morning, I guess. See you guys later,” I tell the rest of the crew, as I grab my hammer and return to the roof. After a full day of flirting back and forth, I'm not sure what's going to happen when we're alone. This isn't something I planned for. But it's summer, and there's at least a couple hours of daylight left before work actually has to stop.

  Oddly enough, the flirting fades. Not entirely, because I can't stop sneaking glances out of the corner of my eye, and Wallace keeps catching me doing it, but it's not as hard or as fast as it's been the whole day, and we work in silence. Until I need more supplies, and I need to climb down to get more, and Wallace climbs down too. He follows me around the side of the house to where the supplies are, and when I reach out for them, he catches my arm and pulls me against him.

  I didn't see it coming.

  That’s a lie. I very much saw it coming, and I didn't stop it.

  And then he has me pinned against the side of the house and his lips are on mine, and my body is pure fire. God, this feels so good, the culmination of the whole day of flirting and so much better than even my dreams made me imagine it would be. It's at once familiar and brand new. And then it's gone.

  Wallace pulls back, breathless, looking me in the eye. "You've been teasing me all day."

  "Me?" I say, that anger
pushing up into my chest. "You started it. That water thing? Casually brushing by me whenever you needed something?"

  He groans and kisses me again. "You're not innocent," he growls against my lips. "You kept showing me your ass, staring at me, and you did your fair share of brushing."

  I kiss him back, pulling him closer even though the anger burning in my veins tells me to push him away, but I don't. “We’re going to fuck, but I want to be clear that I still hate you," I say, biting at his lips and pushing my hips into his, where I can feel how hard he is.

  "Noted."

  And the kiss changes into something truly feral. The siding of the house creaks behind me as he pushes me against it, and I fumble with his belt, trying to get it open as fast as he's trying to undo mine. The condom slips on faster than I can take a breath and he shoves my pants over my hips, lifting me so he can settle between my legs before taking me in one brutal stroke.

  I gasp, and he freezes. I do too. He's inside me now, and it's amazing. Time seems to come to a stop for a moment as we look at each other. We have a choice here. We can stop, pull back, and deal with the consequences. Or we can keep going and deal with an entirely different set of consequences. And then he's fucking me.

  I remember when we had sex a long time ago, it was hot but also sweet. We were so in love that we took our time to savor each other and make sure that the other got what they needed and every part of them felt appreciated.

  This isn't like that.

  Wallace slams into me with wild abandon, and I can feel that I'll have scratches on my back from the wall behind me, even through my clothes. But it's everything I want. I want to hit him and scratch him and punch him but I don't want him to stop. His cock is sweet, sweet friction, slamming in so deep that I see stars with every thrust, and I'm biting my lip to keep quiet.

  I don't remember him being this big. Maybe, like every part of his ripped body, his cock got bigger too. I didn't think it was possible, or maybe I just have a bad memory, but he's filling me up and touching every part of me. I think I'd have a hard time taking him if I weren't so slick from a full day of his teasing.

  His hands find my ass and lift me up so I'm higher, my knees straddling his waist and the bulk of his body pinning me to the wall as he fucks me. And then his lips find my neck. Sucking, licking, biting until I'm moaning and I can't keep it down. Grinding against me, I explode in a flash of light. I've been so ready for this, my body lets go. I didn't have time to burn off any of the sexual energy from my dreams, and everything today was just fuel. I'm tinder, and my orgasm is a wildfire. It roars through me, burning bright and fierce before exploding again into a bigger climax, and I think I scream. I'm clinging to him for what I think might be my life, and he grunts in my ear, fucking his way to his own climax.

  His face is pressed into my neck when he comes, shaking as he holds me, and we breathe together for a moment before he puts me down. We stare at each other, neither knowing what to say. This feels like it was inevitable, and yet, I'm not sure either of us wanted it to happen this way.

  I'm suddenly aware that I'm covered in sweat and sex, and that I want more. But that can't be here.

  "Follow me," I say, pulling up my pants and grabbing my keys.

  Wallace grabs his keys too. "Where are we going?"

  "My place."

  * * *

  This is probably really stupid. I have every reason to hate Wallace. Or if I don't have a reason to hate him, then I certainly have grounds never to talk to him again. I think any person in the world would agree with me. But I can't get him out of my head, and so I'm going with my gut. I have no idea if I'm going to regret this tomorrow, but right now, this is what I want. I'm not going to question it.

  Neither of us says a word as he follows me up the steps and inside. I don't give him a tour, instead I start stripping the moment that I enter the house. I don't look back to see if he's following me because I know he is. We're not going to the bedroom either. Not yet. Instead I walk into my bathroom—one of my favorite places in my house and a room that I designed myself—and into my giant shower.

  Wallace doesn't hesitate to join me when I turn on the water. But that's when I get my first glance of Wallace. All of Wallace. He takes my breath and I have to stop and stare. I felt that he was built, and I knew he was big, but seeing it is an entirely different experience. He's chiseled. I reach out, running my fingers down the grooves in his stomach to his hips, and drag my gaze lower to where his cock juts out from his body. It's thick and proud and almost certainly bigger than when I saw him last.

  He's perfect, damn him. Hating him would be so much easier if he'd shriveled up and had acne or become...someone who wasn't Wallace.

  Stepping forward, he joins me under the flow of the water. "What do you want?" he asks. And I can interpret the question a million different ways given our history and our situation. All of those possibilities are spinning in my mind as I look up at him, watch his hair grow wet and slick, watch the water catch the grooves of his body and emphasize just how goddamn beautiful he is.

  So I choose the only possibility I can face. "To not talk right now. To just be with each other. Feel good. Together."

  He doesn’t say anything, he just kisses me again, showing me that he got the message and he understands that this is what we both need. Warm water soaks into my hair and runs in rivulets down my face and around our lips. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but when he reaches out for my washcloth and lathers it with body wash, that's not it.

  Turning me so my back is against his chest, he washes me. Slow movements and sensual strokes, all while I can feel his cock pressed against my ass, hot and insistent. One arm wraps around my waist while the other soaps my breasts, and he groans. In my ear, he whispers, "No more words than this. Once I get you out onto that bed, you're mine."

  I shiver, ignoring the many possible meanings of his words beyond sex. But I believe him. Once he takes control, he'll give me pleasure, even at the expense of his own. And that's not what tonight is about. Not for me. Tonight is about both of us releasing this tension that's between us.

  The image of myself on my knees before him nearly undid me this afternoon, and even through the water I can feel myself grow wet with arousal, and I see the surprise on his face when I turn and sink to the floor. I don't let him protest, immediately sucking him between my lips. He's so thick, I'll never be able to take him all. My mouth is already full and I'm barely halfway down his shaft, but he doesn't seem to mind. His hands are in my hair, fingers grasping, and his head is thrown back in ecstasy. Good.

  I tease him with my tongue, working my mouth up and down him as best I can, drawing little patterns and stroking him. And when I pull back and suck the head of his cock, he groans, and the muscles in his stomach ripple. I use my hands too, sealing them around his shaft and moving them with my mouth, hoping to give the illusion that I'm taking more of him than I am. He's just too big for me, even though I take him as deep as I possibly can, until he's touching the back of my throat and I don't think I'll ever be able to take more.

  His breath has gone shallow, and I know he's close, and so I don't hold back. I work my mouth up and down his cock in fast, even strokes, making sure to focus on his head, teasing the most sensitive part until he's thrusting his hips, so close that he's saying yes and cursing under his breath. And then he cries out, the sound echoing in the shower, and he comes.

  It floods into my mouth, hot and sweet, and I let it fill my mouth until it runs down my face. I let him see me take it, watch me as I swallow him. His eyes are so dark with lust that he looks different, and I'm so wet that I would do this again right now just to see the look on his face. He doesn't let me get that far.

  In seconds I'm up and out of the shower. He's wrapped a towel around me, so I'm not so wet I'll soak the bed. And then we're there. He's got me underneath him, and it's so achingly familiar that for a moment, my breath catches in my chest. I missed this. It’s not something that I ever let myself wish f
or because the need was too strong and too deep. But now that I’m here, I feel it. It’s too much.

  Pushing the thought aside because I can’t deal with that right now, I watch as he gives my body a long, slow appraisal. He takes in every part of me. Every detail. He takes so long that it makes me blush. And when his eyes return to mine, they're still dark, but softer. He kisses me, and I moan, letting his tongue invade my lips, feeling the heat and penetration that reminds me of the other things he can do. Will do.

  His mouth slides from my lips down my neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps and fire, taking his time. Our true urgency was spent back at the construction site, and now we slow down. Wallace licks along my collarbone to my shoulder, and I'm left wondering how it's possible that a touch on my collarbone can leave me squirming like this.

  He's slow as he drifts his mouth down across my chest, lazily exploring my skin. He said that I was his, and I can't even say no. I'm tired of fighting, tired of being angry. This feels so good, and while he wants to give me pleasure, I'm going to let him.

  Capturing one nipple in his mouth, I groan as his tongue flicks across my skin, making it even harder. Wallace has gotten better since the last time that we had sex. The way he teases me, drawing me in and out, toying in circles and flicks and sucks has me on edge and breathless and I get the feeling that we've barely even started.

  I think I could come just from this, the way he's teasing me is sinking straight through me to my core, building up that fire that hasn't seemed to go out since I saw him yesterday. And just when I think I might burst, he switches to my other breast, resetting the momentum of my body like he's conducting an orchestra. Holy shit. I must say that out loud because he chuckles with my nipple between his lips, eyes flicking up to mine with a flash of searing heat. Then he goes back to those tantalizing touches of his tongue without missing a beat.

  He teases my nipples until I'm writhing under him, arching up into his naked body and begging for more. He finally gives it to me, slipping his arms under my body and holding me close while he explores me with his mouth. The hollow between my breasts and the sensitive skin underneath. My stomach and the lines of my ribs that make me gasp on the edge of pleasure and being tickled. My belly button. My hipbones, another place I never thought would be so sensitive. And then he skips my pussy entirely, making me cover my face with my hands and groan in frustration.