Pretend Love Romance by Penny Wylder
Clayton
The sight in front of me is not the one that I expected to find this early in the morning. Hell, I didn’t expect to see it ever again, and my gut twists up at the burst of strange pleasure and hope.
My not-quite wife is standing in front of me. She’s leaning up against the fence by the barn, blue jeans so tight I have no trouble seeing every curve of her gorgeous ass and what look like brand new cowboy boots.
Internally, I chuckle. Her feet will be blistering by morning. Boots aren’t the easiest shoes to break in, especially if you’re not used to wearing them. Hell, she’ll be lucky if she can walk in the morning.
There are other ways I’d like to help her not be able to walk.
The thought comes out of nowhere, and yet I can’t exactly say that I’m surprised. I had to walk away from this woman the second that we got married because I knew that if I didn’t, I wouldn’t have let her go.
That kiss haunted me in ways that it shouldn’t, and that I can’t describe. But now she’s here on the ranch, looking even more delicious than on our wedding day last week. And she’s spotted me.
“Can’t say that I ever thought I’d see a city girl like you in a place like this.”
She smiles, and I feel like I’ve been hit by a bolt of lightning. My wife—that sounds strange to my mind—hadn’t really smiled during our first meeting. But that made sense. It was a whirlwind of a meeting, and there frankly wasn’t too much to smile about.
But this lights up her face. In the sun, her dark hair has tints of red in it, and again I have that urge to weave my fingers through it and see what it would feel like to kiss her again. The first kiss already imprinted on me in a way that I’ll never forget, the second one might wreck me.
“Thought I’d take a vacation and come see what I sacrificed any future married life for.”
I raise one eyebrow. Does she realize that she’s not the only one that did that? We both did. I don’t like the sarcasm in her tone. It rubs at my skin like sandpaper. For one brief moment I hoped that this would be a happy reunion of sorts. But of course not.
“You should have called first,” I say. “None of the guest cabins are open.”
A slow smirk. “Last I checked, I still owned this place. Or half of it, I guess, if I’m splitting it with you. So I’ll just stay with you.”
My pulse is suddenly thundering in my ears and I’m honestly not sure if it’s because I’m aroused by the thought of her sleeping so close to me, or the fact that she’s thinks she can just stroll in here and get whatever the hell that she wants. Like she owns the place. Shit!
“But I actually would love a tour of the place if you have the time,” she continues. “Like I said, I want to see what I’m saving by signing my life over to you.”
Glancing at her hand, I see that she’s actually wearing the wedding ring that Katie bought for her, and I pause. I’m not wearing mine. I didn’t think it really mattered—the papers are signed. But seeing the ring on her finger makes me wonder. Should I be wearing it? Why the hell do I like seeing it on her finger so much?
I’m reminded of the fact that she changed her tune when she heard about the people that lived here. I’d been thinking it was selfishness and wanting the security of what we’re paying her, buy now I consider there’s a chance that I misjudged her. That she’s actually curious out the ranch.
Might as well give her the benefit of the doubt. If it goes badly, I can always ask her to leave. “Best way to have a tour is on horseback. You ever been on a horse before?”
There’s a flash of uncertainty on her face. “No. But that won’t stop me.”
I smile. “All right then.” Leading her into the stable, I take her over to where Blue is resting, already saddled in preparation for guest rides later this afternoon. “This is Blue. She’s our gentlest horse. We usually save her for kids, or older people. She’ll be perfect for you.”
For a moment, Rachel looks at me like she’s wondering if I’m insulting her. I’m not. This is the simple truth. She finally nods and lets me help her up into the saddle. She doesn’t seem entirely comfortable, but she’s doing okay. I give her the basic commands on how to lead the horse before pulling Blue out of the stall and grabbing my own horse.
Exo has been my horse for years, and even though he’s starting to get up in years, he’s still fierce and fast. There’s nothing like taking him into one of our open fields and letting him run.
“Let’s go,” I say. “It’s not a short tour.”
The ranch is way bigger than she’s bargained for, and it’s going to take forever, especially with the terrible posture that she has on the horse. It’s so bad that it actually makes me smile and erases a touch of my lingering annoyance.
I start out toward the cattle fields. We won’t wander all the way through them, but they’re impressive from afar. We have over three thousand cattle that we manage, and her face is shocked when she sees the sheer amount of them. “Yeah,” I say. “You don’t realize how many three thousand is until you see them all.”
“No kidding,” she says quietly, squirming in the saddle. “And this is part of the local economy you were talking about.”
I nod. “Not only do we have beef cattle that we sell for meat on a rotational basis, but we have a huge dairy export to the local towns. And everything on-site that we feed our guests is grown here and locally sourced.”
That makes her face light up, and suddenly she’s looking at everything around her differently and absorbing the details. I’m not sure what made the switch flip, but I like the way she’s gazing around now. Like this is more than just a piece of land.
I bring her along the border of our grazing lands toward the more public side of the property, going slow so that she and Blue can keep up. Rachel isn’t a particularly good rider, but then again, for someone who’s never been on a horse before, she’s not doing too badly.
For the first time since I can remember, I actually want to be riding Exo. I can’t stop sneaking glancing at the way Rachel’s hips are rocking as she rides, and I have to admit that my wife is hot. And right now, I’m thinking that I’d like to be riding behind her to feel that motion.
Man, I’ve never been this jealous of a horse before.
Images plague my brain—what it would be like if she rode me like that. Shit. Now I’m hard. Never a comfortable situation when you’re riding.
But Rachel is oblivious to my pain, actively taking in the beauty around her and commenting on it. She stops at some of the better overlooks and takes pictures with her phone.
“This is where the resort officially starts,” I say as we ride past the lake. “We’re a fully functioning vacation destination. On-site restaurant and recreation, shuttles to and from local tourist spots, and pick up from the Jackson airport if necessary.”
“This really is beautiful,” Rachel says, a little wistfully.
“Thanks.” At the very least, I hope that she thinks it was worth it.
We move through the grounds that are perfectly landscaped with guest cabins nestled close enough to feel homey but far enough apart to give our guests privacy. “We offer everything from lake swimming and fishing to more traditional camp activities like craft classes, horseback riding, and even archery.”
Rachel grins. “Maybe I’ll have to try that.”
“Maybe.”
The tour is almost finished, even though I don’t want to be. This has been surprisingly nice. We ride between a carefully curated line of ponderosa pines. This is the border of the staff camp, where everyone who lives on the ranch makes their home, and where my own house is.
Roscoe House. It used to belong to Evelyn, but as she got older, she wanted a place on a single level and a smaller blueprint, so she gave the house to me. It’s gorgeous. Small, but elegant.
“This is nice,” Rachel says as we stop in front of it. “Who lives here?”
“I do,” I say, dropping down from Exo’s back and tying him to the hitching post. I take the reins from her and do the same to Blue.
“Oh.”
“Come on down,” I say, reaching for her hand to help her. “You’ll probably be a little stiff.”
Rachel rolls her eyes. “I’ll be fine.” She swings her legs over and drops down, only for her legs to completely give out. She stumbles into me. I catch her on instinct, getting a whiff of her sweet scent. Cinnamon and sugar and a hint of citrus. “Whoa.”
I scoop her up into my arms, steadfastly ignoring the fact that she fits perfectly against me as if she were made to be there. And the fact that her curves are perfect and soft and making me even harder than I already was. “I warned you,” I say softly.
“Yeah.” She’s a little breathless.
Carrying her up to the house, I pause at the doorway. This isn’t exactly what I expected, but I can’t put her down just to make her walk through the doorway. I glance down at Rachel, and the pink on her cheeks tells me that she’s very aware of what’s happening here too.
And so I open the door and carry my not-quite wife across the threshold of my house. Where she’s going to be staying, so, so close to me.
I carry her up the stairs and into the guest room where I put her down on the bed. She winces, and inhales a sharp breath. “You’re in a lot of pain?”
“It’s fine.”
“Shit,” I mutter under my breath. “If you were in pain, you should have told me. We could have finished the tour another time.” We rode for over an hour.
Her eyes land on me with fire in them. Rachel struggles to get her boots off. I lean over in a silent offer to help her, but she yanks her foot away. “I can take off my own shoes, thank you,” she hisses at me. She finally wriggles her feet free and throws the boots into the corner of the room “I wasn’t exactly sure if you were going to kick me off the property the minute the tour stopped,” she says, “so I wanted to finish. Besides, I can handle more than you think for a city girl.”
“That’s not the point,” I say, pacing the room. “You think you’re in pain now? Just wait until tomorrow. We may not have gotten off to the best start, Rachel, but that doesn’t mean that I want to see my wife in pain.”
The silence echoes after my voice fades. I hadn’t realized how loud I was speaking. And I can’t interpret the look on Rachel’s face. Her eyes are still all heat and flame, while her expression is uncertainty.
“Is that what I am?” she asks quietly, and I notice the way her eyes slip down my body, like she’s drinking me in.
“Am what?”
“Your wife.”
Everything goes still. Longing and want and desperate lust spring to life all over again. “Of course,” I say. “We signed the papers.”
Rachel tilts up her chin in a challenge. “Then prove it.”
My brain doesn’t have time to process what she’s asking, or to stop and tell my body what a colossally bad idea this is, because I’m already across to the bed, mouth crashing down on hers. Her moan turns my dick to fucking cement. So hard that it’s going to break if I don’t fuck this woman right the hell now.
Not this woman, my wife. I’m going to fuck my wife. And when I do, it it’s not going to be in the guest room. I pull her up from the bed, not letting her mouth leave mine and I carry her down the hall to my bedroom and drop her on my bed before falling on top of her.
I hadn’t wanted to think about her, even though my thoughts kept straying that way. I tried to ignore the impulse to live in the memory of her lips and stroke my cock until I came seeing a thousand colors, because there was nothing that could come from it but pain.
But while she’s here, in the flesh, I am not strong enough to resist her. I wanted her the moment that she walked into that conference room, and I’m done denying it.
Rachel’s fingers fumble with my shirt tucked into my jeans, pulling it out and over my head, and I let her. She gives a small gasp, eyes going wide at the sight of my body. Her small hands hover just above my skin, but before she can stroke my chest, I grab her hands.
No.
I reach for her shirt, stripping it off and tossing it aside. Her tits are so pretty and pert in a white bra. I can see the outline of her nipples through the thin fabric, and I lick my lips imagining them in my mouth.
I turn her back to me and push her down on the bed. I lie on top of her, grinding my cock into her ass. I wrap myself around her so that my lips are at her ear. “No, no, little wife,” I say, barely recognizing my own voice. “You want to touch my abs you have to earn it.”
She laughs, but it turns into a moan as I grind into her again and rub my hand up and down her side. Her skin is warm and so smooth.
“I think I’m up to that task.”
“We’ll see.” I stand up from the bed and she turns over onto her back, propping herself up on her elbows. I unbutton my pants and drop them down to my ankles. My boxers follow and then I’m standing naked in front of her. I give her a few seconds to take me all in. After she has a good look, she seems to wake up, and scrambles to take off her jeans. Now she’s laid out for me in just her bra and panties, and fuck me, I’ve never seen anything sexier.
I reach over to my nightstand and pull out a condom from the drawer. Before I roll it on, I stroke myself a few times. I’ve never been harder, and I nearly have to bite my lip, I’m already so sensitive. When I do roll it down, I meet her eyes. There’s lust there, but also a challenge.
I kneel on the bed in front of her, and never breaking her gaze, I hook my fingers in the waistband of her panties and pull them down. I watch the goosebumps rise on her skin as the soft satin brushes over her legs. Her hands are up over her breasts, and I move those aside to reach behind her to unhook her bra. I use my knee to pry her legs apart, but they fall open easily. Her face is a mask of anticipation and wonder.
I cannot wait a second more to have her. Pressing the head of my cock to her entrance, I can already feel her fiery heat. Rachel gasps, and I lean down to her, grabbing her wrists in my hands and pinning them above her head. I stretch out over her, feeling every inch of her skin against mine. I push inside her, just an inch. Just barely the tip. “Does my wife want my cock?” I ask.
“Yes.”
I push her hands into the bed as I thrust in, savoring the sound of her groan. She lifts her hips up to meet me, and my vision goes white. Damn she feels so good. So hot and tight. Everything is spinning around us, and every time I call her my wife, my cock jerks.
Every ounce of resentment and frustration that’s warred with lust and desire flows out of me, but I’m not the only one. I slam home, thrusting deep and hard, not giving her a chance to adjust, and Rachel doesn’t flinch, she’s so wet. She squeezes down on my cock with her perfect pussy.
It feels like everything is brand new. Every sensation and burst of pleasure is better than anything that I’ve felt before, and I want more. I pull almost all the way out, reveling in feeling every inch of her, and then slowly fuck her again. I thrust in and out, slowly, and when I’m buried balls deep, I grind up into her, hitting her clit before I drag back out. My body is telling me to go faster, but the look on Rachels’ face is one that I want to remember always, so I keep the pace slow. Rachel looks like she’s drugged, in the best possible way.
“Is that all you’ve got? Husband?” Rachel says, voice rough.
I laugh. She doesn’t know what she’s asking for. When I pull out again, I stop at the tip, and pump into her just like that. “Ahhh,” I say, trying to control my voice but having a hard time at it, “you want more?” It’s excruciating to stop fucking her, but I’m a gentleman, and I’ll give the lady what she wants.
I grab her by her ribs, and I flip her over. I gather her hair in my fist and pull her head back. My mouth skirts over her pale, long neck before I take her again.
I’m inside her before she can open her mouth to say another word. Animal possession roars inside me. She dared me to prove it, and I will. I fuck her, pinned to the bed, my fist tangled in her hair. I fuck her so hard the bed moves on the hardwood floor. My face is close to hers, my mouth at her ear. Rachel’s eyes are locked on mine, drenched with lust and pleasure. Exactly the look I love on a woman’s face when I’m inside her. My hand slips to her neck, and I can feel her pulse fluttering under my fingertips.
There’s a deep, feral part of me that wants to punish her for all the grief she’s caused me. But I also want to make her scream my name so loudly that the whole ranch hears that she’s mine.
Leaning down, I brush my mouth where her neck meets her shoulder. I’m acting on instinct now. Driving deep as I drag my teeth over her pulse. I’m not squeezing, and I never would, but she can feel the danger. She gasps when I bite down, thrusting harder as I mark her, claim her. Mine.
“I’ve got more than enough for you, wife,” I say. Shit, that word feels good in my mouth. I can’t stop saying it. Can’t stop pushing deeper into her pussy. “More than you’ll ever be able to handle.”
She reaches one hand behind her, and her fingernails dig into my skin. I relish the tinge of pain. “You have no idea what I can handle.”
“Let’s find out.”
And then I really fuck her. I thought I had been, but it’s nothing like this. Raw. Animal. Primal. The sound that builds in my throat is one that I’ve never made before, and one long cry comes from Rachel. I need to see her, so I pull out for a second to flip her on to her back, and then enter again. She’s no longer scratching me, she’s clinging to me now, holding on for dear life as I fuck her. One hand stays on her neck, needing to feel her heartbeat, and I brace the other on the headboard, using it do drive into her, and drive the bed into the damn wall.
Every movement of my hips grinds down into her clit, and I see it—feel it—when she falls into ecstasy. Her legs go limp on either side of me, and her whole body shakes, her pussy squeezing down on me like a vise as she screams.
I can’t hold myself back, white hot pleasure blazes through me as I drive myself to the hilt and hold myself there, filling up the condom as the waves wrack my body until I’m entirely spent.
It takes long minutes before I can see again, and it feels like waking up from a dream, tangled in limbs and smelling of sex and glowing in pleasure and barely remembering how I got here.
Slowly, I release my hand from her neck, dragging my hand down her chest intentionally. She makes a sound that makes me freeze when I untangle from her. It’s one of pain. A sound that she meant to hide but couldn’t.
“Shit,” I say again. “I shouldn’t have done that. Not after the ride.”
She smirks, even though I can see the pain in her eyes. “Just a different kind of ride.”
“I should have known better,” I laugh softly.
“I dared you,” she says. I raise an eyebrow, and she doesn’t look away. “I don’t regret it.”
Gently, I slip away from her. “Don’t move.” Knowing what I do of the woman in my bed, I don’t actually expect her to listen, but I’m not sure that she’s even able to stand at this rate.
In my bathroom, I throw the used condom into the trash and splash some cold water on my face. I fill the tub with hot water and dissolve a few cups of Epsom salt. Ranch life is hard, and soreness is a part of it, but she doesn’t know that, and I made it worse because I couldn’t control myself.
“You fall in?” she calls to me.
“You wish,” I tell her as I walk back out. I’m still naked, and so is she. I pause when I exit the bathroom, giving her the total view, and I drink her in, too.
She’s perfect. Pale and curvy and utterly sexy. Her hair is wild, spread across my pillows. I know that when I go to sleep tonight that I’m going to smell her, and my mouth waters at the thought. I wonder if she tastes as good as she smells?
I reach out a hand to her and say, “Get up.”
“Ready for round two?” she says, smirking.
I smirk back. “Always. But you’re not. Now come on now, just listen to me. Out of bed.”
Rachel frowns, crosses her arms over her chest, and makes a little hmph sound in her throat. I resist the urge to pin her down and fuck her all over again.
Instead, I lift her off the bed, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of her skin on mine. “Where are we going?”
“You need heat,” I say. “And some Epsom salt.”
The surprise when I lower her into the bath is genuine. “You drew me a bath?”
“Is it that hard to believe?”
She blushes. “I guess not.”
“Take your time,” I say softly. “And hopefully tomorrow you won’t feel as bad.”
She looks up at me, and even though we just had easily the best sex of my life, I don’t know whether it’s right to kiss her. I want to, but despite the sex, I still don’t know where we stand.
“Thank you,” she says.
“Any time.” As I head back out into the bedroom to get dressed, I realize that I mean it.
