One Night Bride by Marika Ray
10
Remington
“I always arrive at just the right time,” I said breezily, reaching the living room as the kitchen timer went off, signaling the lasagna was done. I lifted my nose in the air. “And there’s French bread too. You’re making it hard to live without you, Mom.”
Mom let me steal a kiss on her cheek as she headed to the oven, but then elbowed me out of the way. She still wasn’t happy I’d gone off and gotten married without going the normal route of an engagement. If she only knew the truth, she’d be so furious I wouldn’t have to worry about handing the ranch to Ruger. She’d disinherit me altogether.
Seeing Ruger talking to my wife over by the couch, I quickly headed in that direction. Ruger could keep his filthy hands—and his conversation—to himself.
“Telling Esme all about our childhood, huh?” I murmured, sliding my arm around Esme’s waist and pulling her into me. She stayed stiff as a board for a second, before melting into me. Because she liked the feel of me or because of our ruse, I wasn’t sure. I preferred to believe the former.
Ruger smirked. “Just telling her all the reasons she chose the wrong Roth brother.”
I snorted, while thinking my plan to act married for real in front of my family was the best idea I’d had in ages. “She prefers a man, not a man-boy.” Ruger was only three years younger than me, and at twenty-five was hardly a boy, but I made a point to always tease him. It’s what big brothers did.
“Time to eat, boys,” Mom called out from the dining room.
Ruger dashed over like he had a hole in his leg that needed to be filled with Mom’s home cooking. Killam thundered down the stairs, his hair wet from the shower and following his nose to the food. I steered Esme in the direction of the table as well, taking my time though so she’d have to stay right by my side. I wouldn’t give her much space the whole time we were here. She gave me a side-eyed look I ignored. If we were married for real, I’d be all over her. Anything less would raise suspicion with my family.
Right as we got to the table, and I was about to pull out a chair for her right next to where I always sat, she stepped on my toes with her heel, grinding down and pasting a bright smile on her face. I couldn’t even yelp despite the pain.
Two could play that game.
She sat down and I took the seat next to her, making sure I offered her a portion before me. When we all had our food and began to eat, I let my hand slide over to her thigh. A few inches north and I could make her dinner far more pleasurable. Esme took a bite of lasagna, put her fork down, and reached under the table to stab me with her nails.
I sucked in a breath.
“Did you find a place in Tahoe?” Mom asked nonchalantly.
I knew there was nothing casual about that question. She and Dad hated that I wanted to leave the ranch. We’d had one too many arguments about it in the past. They just couldn’t understand why I didn’t want a successful ranch handed to me. I wasn’t being an ungrateful son; I just wanted to chart my own course. But now wasn’t the time to argue. Not with Esme here for the first time.
“I did, but time will tell if that actually happens.” I left it at that.
“So, tell us how it all happened in Tahoe, Rem,” Dad said from the head of the table, clearly referring to Esme and me.
I snatched my hand back from the she-cat and wrapped my arm around her shoulders. Pulling her into me, I placed a kiss on the side of her forehead.
“We met at the restaurant downstairs in the hotel. Esme was so smitten, she ditched the bachelorette party she was with to have dinner with me. Of course, I wined and dined her with the most expensive things on the menu.” I smirked as Mom sighed dreamily.
Esme snorted. The only thing I’d treated her to was my cock and a cold bathroom wall.
“And the rest is history!” Esme cut in with a brilliant smile I knew was fake. “So, Killam, how did you come to meet the Roths?”
Killam’s fork clanged on his plate. Poor kid. He was seventeen, and even though he’d grown into a good-looking guy, he didn’t know what to do with the ladies quite yet. Esme bringing the whole table’s attention to him had to be nerve wracking.
“Um.” He cleared his throat. “I was nine when I met Rem. He caught me trying to steal a lady’s shopping bag. Told me he wouldn’t turn me in if I came by the ranch three days a week and did some work for the Roths.” He shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal when we all knew it was. “Moved in last year when I turned sixteen.”
I held my breath, hoping Esme wouldn’t ask a bunch of questions. Killam hated talking about his parental situation. No one would want to talk about something so painful and scary. Her face softened, and she gave him a genuine smile this time.
“Sometimes the best family is the one you choose, not the one you’re born into.”
Killam gave her a nod, and the conversation moved away, turning into story time, which happened to feature a bunch of exaggerated stories about me growing up. I gave as good as I got though, lighting up Ruger and Killam next. Mom and Dad laughed, clearly enjoying having all three of us boys back together. I didn’t spend nearly enough time around the family dinner table as I used to, always having something to do or someplace to be. I saw Ruger and Killam working on the ranch during the day, but rarely gave them my free time.
With my hand back on Esme’s thigh, without the nails digging into my skin this time, I felt a strange type of peace settle over me. This was nice.
Esme made a funny noise. I looked over to see her discreetly yawning into her hand. A quick check of my watch showed it was late. She had to be bored sitting around our table while we reminisced about people and events she didn’t know about.
“Well, honeypoo, it’s about time we headed up. Long day tomorrow.” I put my napkin on the table and got up, helping to pull Esme to her feet. “Mom, do you mind if I skip dishes just this once to get Esme settled in?”
Mom gave me a knowing smile, waving her hands in the air. “Go on, you two. Ruger and Killam have you covered.”
“It was a lovely dinner, thank you,” Esme said graciously, pulling away from me.
I frowned and tried to tug her back, but she was stronger than I anticipated. Instead, she rounded the table and gave both my parents a hug. Dad tapped her shoulder awkwardly, and Mom gave a little sigh. When Esme came back over, they’d both melted right there in their chairs. If the pang in my chest was anything like they were feeling, I understood why they now looked at Esme like she was some kind of angel.
She laced her fingers through mine, and as I led her upstairs to my childhood bedroom, I had a realization that almost made me trip on the stairs.
I was developing feelings.
Like, real, big, love-type feelings.
I could picture a long life of nights just like this one, with Esme and my family. My brothers teasing us. Seeing her smiling face at the table. Her giving me shit and then tugging me away to warm a bed together.
The bedroom was dark, so I turned the light on low. Seeing my room through her eyes was a novel experience. I’d slept on that bed and fantasized of girls. Hid dirty magazines in the back of the closet, thinking Mom wouldn’t find them and being shocked when she always did. Paced the floor and dreamed of a business other than ranching.
“Um, so…” Esme turned in a circle, biting that lip of hers and making me hard just to look at her. “There’s only one bed.”
My brain went fuzzy and all I focused on was her. We’d already shared a bed, so I didn’t really see what the problem was, but I could see she obviously had an issue with it.
I stepped up close to her, putting my hands on her tiny waist. Her gaze flew to mine and I saw desire in those chocolatey-brown pools. Fuck. I wanted her. Badly.
“Please don’t attack my naked body when I’m sleeping, okay?”
Her mouth flew open and her eyes flashed. I liked that look better than worry. “Please! More like you’re going to attack me!”
I shrugged, moving her out of the way to get to the bathroom behind her. “At least you’re so mad you didn’t even balk at the fact that I sleep naked.” I moved swiftly into the bathroom and shut the door in the nick of time.
A loud thunk against the wood had me thinking she’d just thrown one of my own boots at me. I grinned, happier than I’d been in a long time. When I came out—with boxers on, unfortunately—she was already tucked into bed, wrapped in the comforter like a mummy. The lump of her body was teetering precariously off the edge of the bed.
This fucking grin wouldn’t leave my face.
I slid into bed, reaching down to squeeze the shit out of my dick. He was thinking he was about to get lucky again. My arms itched to reach out and pull Esme to me. To bury my nose in her hair and breathe her in. To keep pretending that this was all real. Somehow I drifted off to sleep with the scent of Esme all around me, but not touching me, and my erection permanent.
I woke with the first ray of sun, my body tuned to farm hours whether I liked it or not. Something tickled my nose. I swiped the hair away, only to find my other arm out of commission with a human barnacle glued to my side. I looked down to find Esme blowing a puff of air against my chest as she slept half on top of me.
Fuck, I liked that.
She was warm, and soft, and exquisitely beautiful. She could be so fierce and tough in the daytime, snapping at me, giving orders to her assistants, and keeping me on my toes…when she wasn’t stepping on them. Seeing her innocent and relaxed was a tempting peek into the real Esme. The twenty-four-year-old who still had her entire life ahead of her.
Shit, now my erection was the thing of legends, rock hard and pulsing with a desperate need to be inside this woman. To know her intimately all over again, this time with my ring on her finger. She stirred, maybe from hearing the thunder of my heart below her ear. I froze, anticipating her reaction. She might freak and roll right out of bed. I wasn’t awake when she left my bed in Tahoe, so I wasn’t sure if she’d been horrified or reluctant.
From my vantage point, I saw her eyelids blinking her awake. Her fingers jumped where they lay on my chest, then they began to slide back and forth, exploring my skin. I felt her touch all the way to the tips of my toes, the sensation doing absolutely nothing to dull the erection. Her fingers slid south, tracing the lines of my stomach before they swooped down to the waistband of the boxers I’d worn to bed to keep her from freaking out.
I hissed out a breath and nearly came right there, which would have been an embarrassing performance to say the least. Also similar to how things went growing up in this bedroom, but not the kind of thing I wanted to be doing at twenty-eight years old. Reaching down, I grabbed her wrist and flipped us over, settling between her legs before she had a chance to protest. It took all the willpower I’d ever possessed to keep from grinding my cock against the warm nestle of her body.
“Good morning, honeypoo,” I drawled, loving her sleepy look. She had a red spot on the side of her cheek where she’d been pressed up against me. Her hair wasn’t perfectly styled like usual. She looked sexier for it.
Her lips tilted up in a sweet smile and my dick finally took a back seat. I didn’t care so much about getting in her pants as much as seeing that smile lobbed in my direction every damn day. I leaned down and closed the two-inch gap, pressing my lips to hers to see if they tasted as sweet as they looked. She gasped against my mouth and then launched into the kiss, her hands coming up to sink her fingers into my hair. She tugged, and I groaned. She tangled her tongue with mine and I nearly shot right off the bed.
This was definitely not what I expected when she woke up.
But I’d take full advantage of it and do what I didn’t get a chance to do in Tahoe.
My hands trailed down her torso, lifting the sorry excuse for a tank top that covered her. I cupped her breast and kissed down her neck. Her leg came up to hitch over my waist and she shamelessly lifted her hips to grind against my cock. I fucking loved it. I loved everything about her body, the way she responded to me, and the way she filled out a pant suit. She’d been perfect in a public bathroom and she’d be perfect in my childhood bedroom.
Hitting her breasts, I nipped at her through the cotton with my teeth, leaving a wet spot as her nipples puckered. She moaned, and I shifted lower on her body, pushing the covers back and exposing the pajama shorts she wore.
“Seagulls?” I asked gruffly, more turned on than I thought I’d ever been.
She sucked in a breath, her breasts rising and falling fast like she’d been running a marathon in her dreams. “It’s an Auburn Hill thing.”
I didn’t care. She could have worn little blue aliens on her pajamas and it wouldn’t have changed how I felt about her. Plus, she wasn’t going to be wearing them much longer, anyway. I pulled them down her legs until they bunched around her ankles. My shoulders shoved her thighs apart, and I thanked my broad physique for spreading her wide open for me. A tiny triangle of hair arrowed down to the essence of her, where she was already wet and aching. Hot damn, my girl was wetter than an otter’s pocket for me.
Her fingers, still gripped in my hair, tightened. The pain on my scalp was nothing compared to the sharp ache in my balls. I buried my head in her, licking and kissing and inhaling her to satisfy the ache. Her hips jumped and shifted. I followed wherever she went, reaching out to press my hand down on her stomach. My childhood bed was only so big, and I didn’t want to find myself falling to the floor because she bucked me off. My thumb spread her open and my tongue found a rhythm that had her gasping out my name over and over again.
I kept her right there on the edge, not quite giving her what she wanted. Only because I was a bastard and wanted to keep tasting her. Wanted this moment to never end. The minute real life inserted itself, she’d be back to business Esme, the girl with stilettos and silk blouses and her nose in her computer.
“Remy, please,” she begged, using the nickname only she used.
It was the perfect thing to say. The only thing to make me give her what she wanted. I’d made her beg, which just proved she wanted me too.
I pressed two fingers into her, thrusting insistently as I focused the tip of my tongue on her clit, flicking and tasting until her back arched off the bed and she slammed a pillow over her face to muffle the scream.
Easing up long moments later, I pulled my fingers out of her, making her jump and quiver. I grabbed the pillow and pried it out of her grip, wanting to see her face. Her cheeks blushed pink and her hair lay a tangled mess against my pillow. She was perfection. She blinked up at me.
“Good morning,” she slurred.
Her phone, sitting benignly on the bedside table, began to beep. Loudly. Repeatedly. Annoyingly.
She bit her puffy bottom lip, her eyes already coming into focus and losing that dazed look I quite liked.
I sighed. “You have to get that, don’t you?”
She nodded and grimaced, looking down at the erection I’d have to take care of in the shower, just to make sure I didn’t die from the influx of blood flow that wouldn’t leave.
I leaned down to drop a kiss on her mouth and pushed off the bed. When I came out of the shower—which hadn’t taken care of my little problem, not really—she was already on her computer, dressed, and answering emails. Just looking at her, you couldn’t tell that twenty minutes ago she’d been tossing her head back and forth, begging me to let her come on my face.
I’d have a long day of fixing the fence line to work out my sexual frustrations. As I turned to leave, I noticed her wedding ring sat by itself on the bedside table.
Not on her damn finger where it belonged.
If I slammed the door on my way out, I blamed it on the erection.