Pretend Love Romance by Penny Wylder
Clayton
I have to get out of the house. There is no way that I have the self-control to watch Rachel soaking naked in my tub. I know that if I stay, I will haul her back out of it in record time and drag her back to the bed because fuck. I already want more of her. Thankfully there’s a whole ranch out my front door that needs my attention.
Through all the chores and taking the horses back across the ranch to the stable, I’ve been half-hard. I obviously didn’t shower, so her cinnamon scent is still on me, in my nose, in my thoughts.
I throw myself into tasks to keep myself away from the house. The stables—we have five of them—need new coats of paint. And I spend my afternoon making sure that those walls are vibrant. I don’t finish them all—there is too much surface area for that—but I make a good dent. And handling the tall rollers gives my shoulders a good workout.
The sun is starting to set when my stomach growls. Has Rachel eaten? There’s some food in my fridge, but I mainly eat in the staff dining hall. She probably doesn’t even know where that is.
A surge of guilt pinches my stomach. I needed some space away from her, but I’ve also essentially trapped her in my house. I don’t doubt that Rachel is bold enough to take what she wants, but there is also something soft and vulnerable about her. Something that appeals to me, and that I want to dig deeper into and explore.
On the way back to my house, I stop by the main lodge to talk with Jenna, the woman who runs check-ins and the concierge services for the resort. She smiles when I come in. “Hey, Clayton.”
“Hey,” I say. “There’s a woman who arrived earlier today. Did she have luggage?” She didn’t have any suitcases when she met me at the barn, but I find it hard to believe that she’d show up here without any luggage at a ll.
“Sure did,” she says with a smile. “I was wondering when she was going to come back for it.”
“I’ll take it.”
Jenna grins. “Is she who I think she is?”
I fight not to roll my eyes. When there was first a problem with the will, I called a staff meeting and told everyone about it. I didn’t have much information at the time, but I wasn’t about to go into a meeting blind and then come back with news that they were all being evicted and losing their jobs.
But that also meant that when I came back, I had to tell them that they were safe…and why.
I’d gotten some good-natured teasing about my stranger wife from people, but all in all, it wasn’t too bad. They were grateful that I’d been willing to do that to ensure security for the ranch, and grateful to Rachel—though they didn’t know her—for being willing to let the ranch stay in my hands.
I admitted privately to Jenna what happened. She is the only one that knows everything, but the rest know enough. So when Rachel showed up asking for me, I’m not surprised that Jenna jumped to the correct conclusion. Everyone else we encountered on our ride probably thought she was a guest or just a visitor. But Jenna knows better.
I smile with closed lips. “Yeah.”
Her grin is so wide I’m worried that it’s going to split open her face. “That’s so exciting! She seems really nice. Why is she here?”
Sighing, I say, “We haven’t really gotten that far yet.”
“Gotcha.” A conspiratorial wink.
I shake my head. “Please don’t spread it around. This is strange enough as it is without having an audience.”
Her face grows serious. “Of course, Clayton. I just want to see you happy.”
“And you think that my fake wife is the way for that to happen?” I raise an eyebrow.
She shrugs. “Maybe.”
I laugh in spite of myself. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Jenna wheels out a large suitcase and hands me a messenger bag from behind the desk. Not bad. “You want a cart?”
“I got it,” I say, shaking my head. The suitcase isn’t that heavy to begin with, and there are maintained paths between the main house and Roscoe House.
Jenna shoots one last knowing glance at me as I head out with Rachel’s luggage, and I pick up the debate again about food. Do I want to tell her where the staff hall is? Is that what she is? Staff? What else would she be?
The image of her beneath me, lost in her orgasm as I plowed into her, fills my mind, and I shiver even though the evening is warm. That same unbridled lust takes hold of me. I want that all the time. Forever. I don’t have to know the ins and outs of her to know that something deep down in my soul recognizes this woman as mine. And that’s what I want.
I want her to be my wife. Not by a half-measure or dancing around each other. My actual wife.
A future spins out in my head. Rachel staying here on the ranch with me, starting a true family so that the ranch will be passed down for even more generations. Outgrowing Roscoe House and building a new one out on the bluff that overlooks the entire property. And in that vision there’s so much of her. Of her wild hair and her smile and nights filled with panting and desperate passion.
My beautiful wife.
But is that something that she wants? I still don’t know why she’s really here. I don’t quite buy the reasoning that she’s here on a vacation. It doesn’t add up. But I’m hesitant to ask. I don’t want that vision in my head to shatter.
But at the same time, if it’s going to fall to pieces, it’s better that it does it sooner rather than later, so I don’t have to grieve it.
The house is quiet, and the guest room door is shut. I leave her suitcase and bag by her door and head into my bedroom for a shower. The bed is still a mess, and Rachel’s clothes are still scattered across the floor. So she’s definitely here. Is she all right?
I rush through a shower, tossing on new clothes that aren’t drenched in sweat and smeared with paint. When I step into the hallway, her bags are still by the door.
Knocking softly, I don’t hear anything. There’s an unsettled panic in my gut, and I open the door to make sure that she’s all right.
She’s there all right, sprawled across the bed in nothing but a towel, asleep. I lose my grip on the door at the sight, and my hand keeps going, bumping into the wall. Rachel startles awake, sitting up and gasping, and then groaning. Her face contorts in pain. “Fuck.”
I chuckle even though I’m sure she doesn’t find it remotely funny. “I’m sorry I woke you.”
She blinks. “What time is it?”
“Dinner time.”
“Shit, I didn’t mean to sleep that long.”
I fight off my grin, loving the idea that I fucked her into exhaustion. “Lay back down,” I tell her. “I’ll help you with the stiffness.”
Slipping back into my room for a moment, I grab the small tub of salve that I use for aches and pains. It’s menthol and goes deep. It’ll help her get moving again, especially after today. On gut instinct, I take off the t-shirt that I’d put on, and toss it on the bed.
When I get back to her room, she’s lying face down under the towel, head tucked into her pillow. I could get lost in the way her hair is flying across the sheets and across her back.
She feels the bed shift when I sit next to her. “Is it always this painful?”
“For first timers, yes. It gets better though as your muscles get used to it.”
Rachel laughs, voice muffled by the pillow. “Sounds a little bit like losing your virginity.”
That makes me truly laugh, the sound echoing off the walls. “Yeah, I guess so.” I unscrew the cap of the jar. “This morning everything was fast, and I know that we have a lot to talk about. I want to make sure that everything between us is what you want. This is a cream that will help with the pain, but I’ll have to touch you.”
She stiffens, but doesn’t lift her head. My hand is practically aching with the need to reach out and stroke down her legs, but I don’t move. Finally she turns her head toward me, mouth visible below the mane of hair. “Do you want to touch me?”
“Very much,” I say. There’s no hiding the rawness in my voice.
Rachel lets out a shuddering breath. “Good. Touch away.”
I start gently with the back of her legs, dabbing on the cream and smoothing the skin and digging into the muscles . I slowly move up to the edge of the towel, and even though I’ve already seen her perfect ass, I want to see more. I want to see everything.
Rubbing my hands between her thighs, I work the muscles there, knowing that those will be the sorest. I try and fail to ignore the heat coming from her pussy. We need to take this slow.
“You all right with me moving the towel?”
She doesn’t answer me, instead she pulls it off herself and tosses it off the bed. Slowly, so slowly, I massage her ass, watching her breath deepen and listening to her groan as I work in the cream and hit the sore spots.
Rachel’s hands dig into the comforter, and I’d much rather they be grabbing the sheets for an entirely different reason. Up her back, stroking my fingers along her ribs and up to her neck where I brush her hair away. I’m almost stretched out completely over her again, just like this morning.
I dip my head down so I can whisper in her ear. “I wanted you like this the first time you walked through that conference room door. You were an absolute force of nature, and nothing like what I expected.”
With a moan, Rachel twists beneath me and pulls me down to kiss her. A hot, open kiss that has my blood roaring in my veins. Again I feel that urge to consume her, to take her. But this delicate thing between us needs more gentleness than that.
She’s reaching down between us and undoing my belt. I whisper the words against her cheek. “We did hard and fast; now we’re going to go long and slow. And then, we’re going to talk a little.”
Rachel’s eyes flare with need. “Okay.”
“Okay.”
So I sink down her body and start my plan to make every part of this woman mine.
