It Started with a Bang by Piper James

Chapter Sixteen

Ryder

“What an asshole,” I murmured for the billionth time since Annabelle dropped me off in front of my room last night.

I’d hardly slept, that scene with her dad playing over and over in my mind. I’d known he was a jerk based on the fact that Belle felt the need to marry a stranger just to get him off her back, but seeing the man in action made me realize I’d had no idea just how awful he really was.

As if his misogyny wasn’t bad enough, he’d thrown her physical appearance into the mix, outright admitting he thought she wasn’t attractive enough to snag a man without her money being the main motivator.

Was he fucking crazy? Most people didn’t see their children as sexual beings, yet Jaxson Parker had assessed his own daughter in that way and found her lacking. The man was disgusting. And obviously blind.

Belle was gorgeous with those bright blue eyes and shiny blonde hair swishing around her shoulders. Her round curves revved my motor like nothing else, and if I was being honest with myself, I wanted nothing more than to bury my cock deep inside her. I wanted to feel her ass in my hands again. I wanted to taste every inch of her to see if it tasted as good as her lips.

And all of that made this whole situation even more confusing and fucked up than it already was. Because this whole relationship was a ruse. There would be no sex. No kneading. No tasting. Unless, of course, it was for someone else’s benefit, like when I kissed her in the ocean.

Well, it had started that way. It was a show for the photographers. But about three seconds into it, I’d forgotten all about the paparazzi. I was consumed by the feel of her wrapped around me, her tongue chasing mine while I rubbed her against my cock.

Then, after her Dad’s invasion yesterday morning, I’d admitted to her just how real it had felt to me. I didn’t have a choice. Not after seeing how his disparagements affected her. I needed her to know how wrong he was, and that I found her sexy as hell. Luckily, she didn’t bring it up again.

Because if she did, I didn’t know if I’d be able to restrain myself from proving just how much I’d meant it. From running my tongue all over her body, tasting every inch of her before using it to make her come. My mouth watered at the thought, and I climbed from the bed with a curse.

“Stop it, asshole,” I muttered, chastising myself.

I turned on the shower, stripping out of my clothes as I waited for it to heat up. As soon as it was warm enough to be comfortable, I climbed inside and let the water pound against my back. Squirting some body wash into my palms, I rubbed them across my chest and down my abdomen. My dick was still throbbing with need after thinking about making Belle come with my mouth, so I wrapped my soapy fingers around it and began to stroke.

I tried like hell to keep my mind clear as I pumped my hand, but images of Belle kept sneaking in past my defenses. The kiss at the bar. The sight of her in that blue bathing suit. Her body wrapped around mine in the water, our mouths melded as she rubbed herself against me.

I pumped faster as new fantasies flooded my thoughts. Belle, dropping to her knees in front of me to take me in her mouth. Sucking and licking as my hands tangled in her hair. Me, pulling away from her to flip her around and dive into her from behind. I could almost feel her hot pussy squeezing my dick, and a tension built inside me, spreading from my head to my feet.

I came with a growl, my entire body shuddering as wave after wave of my orgasm washed over me. Releasing my grip on my cock, I braced both hands against the shower wall, letting my head hang between them as I tried to catch my breath.

Fuck. That was…good. Very good.

And that was not good.

Belle was counting on me to make this arrangement between us work. And after meeting her father, I finally understood why she would go to such lengths to trick him. I’d barely met the man, and within the first thirty seconds, I could tell he was an unyielding asshole. He wanted a man to be in charge of his company. Was he so clueless that he thought Annabelle would let a man, husband or not, dictate her choices? Professionally or personally?

I’d known her for like five minutes, and I knew her better than that.

So the last thing I wanted was to mess up all her plans by throwing sex into the mix. As much as I craved her, I knew I needed to keep my hands to myself. For her sake, and mine. Because I had a feeling that once I took Annabelle Parker to bed, I’d never want her to leave.

By the time I got out of the shower and dressed, my brothers were pounding on my door. I’d managed to sneak into my room yesterday without any of them seeing me, and surprisingly, no one knocked to get the scoop on my beach weekend. It seemed my luck had run out, and when I opened the door, all three of them were waiting on the other side of the threshold.

“Come on in,” I deadpanned when Noah shoved his way past me with a mumbled greeting.

“Morning,” Chase said as he filed in, and Ethan simply nodded.

“How did it go?” Noah asked, making himself comfortable as he stretched out across my bed. “Did you get any?”

“Shut the hell up, man,” I said, pushing the motel room door closed with a sigh. “It’s not like that.”

“Oh, those articles we saw online beg to differ,” Chase cut in with a shit-eating grin.

“Staged,” I said. “The photogs found us, so we made the best of it.”

“Didn’t look staged to me,” Noah said. “Looked pretty fucking real, actually.”

“Shut up, Noah,” Ethan said, his voice as quiet as usual. “If Ryder says it wasn’t real, it wasn’t real.”

I felt a little shitty as my youngest brother came to my defense, because while I wasn’t lying, I also wasn’t telling the whole truth. That kiss had started as a ruse, but had ended up being so much more.

“Tell us everything,” Noah said, ignoring Ethan’s reprimand as he rubbed his palms together. “Every dirty detail.”

I shot him a glare, then slumped down into a chair. I told them about the house, finding common ground with Belle, the whole “kiss scene” in the water, and finally, Jaxson Parker’s unwelcome appearance. All three of them reacted the same way I did when I told them what he said about Belle. We were all in agreement—the man was a giant douche, and Belle was hot as hell.

And I ignored the tiny stab of jealousy that spiked through me when my brothers talked about Belle and her level of hotness.

“So, what are you going to do?” Ethan asked once I finished speaking.

“Simple,” I said. “I’m going to marry her.”

* * *

As I walkedup the steps to Annabelle’s home—my home for the next year—I was uncharacteristically nervous. Not because I was moving in with a woman I barely knew, but because of the small box tucked into the front pocket of my jeans.

I’d swung by the tiny jewelry store downtown, determined to buy Annabelle a proper engagement ring. I knew this whole thing was fake, and she could buy herself the ring of her choice to sell our deception, but there was some part of me that needed to be the one to give it to her. And no, I did not analyze that need as I walked into the store and told the clerk I needed to see the diamonds.

The selection was pitiably small. In a town the size of Red River, there weren’t a lot of engagements happening regularly. And when someone did get engaged, they usually couldn’t afford anything more than a half-carat or so.

I curbed my disappointment, selecting a small, round solitaire set in a white gold band. Its simplicity appealed to me, and its small price tag would go along with Belle’s misconception that I was in this because I needed the money.

I still hadn’t told her about my own wealth, and not because I was trying to trick her. I wasn’t. But if I told her I wasn’t doing this for the money, that I didn’t need it, she’d start to question why I was doing it. And that was a question I wasn’t prepared to answer—because saying I just wanted to help her didn’t really ring true, and I wasn’t ready to slice myself open and evaluate my true motives.

The house was a large ranch-style home with a long wooden porch that held several rocking chairs. The structure faced the east, so I assumed those chairs had seen some spectacular sunrises. I could imagine Belle sitting there, steaming mug of coffee in hand, just enjoying the peaceful mornings.

Shaking off the vision, I lifted my fist and took a deep breath. Before I could knock, though, the door swung open. Annabelle stood there, a wide smile on her face. Reaching through the doorway, she wrapped her fingers around my wrist and pulled me inside.

“Come on in,” she said, releasing me.

I could still feel the burn of her fingers on my wrist as I took my first look around. Rustic décor, soft, muted colors, lots of exposed wood—her home was even more inviting than the beach house was. And the smell…a pleasing mix of cedar and cinnamon tickled my nose, making me wish it were winter so there’d be a fire roaring in the large hearth.

“I’ll show you around,” Belle said, “then I’ll let you get settled in your room.”

She gave me the grand tour—which only took about five minutes. The cozy house had four bedrooms, all decorated in shades of beige, brown, and blue. The kitchen had state of the art appliances, butcher block countertops, and a walk-in pantry the size of my motel room. There were three-and-a-half baths, with two of the bedrooms being masters. It was to one of these Belle led me once I’d seen the rest of the house.

“This is your room. If there’s anything you don’t like, just let me know, and I can change it.”

“It’s fine,” I said. When her brow twitched, I quickly added, “It’s perfect, actually. The whole house is. I love the architecture.”

“Thanks,” she said, her cheeks turning a pretty shade of pink. “I had a hand in designing this place, and I knew exactly what I wanted.”

“And you always get what you want?” popped out of my mouth before I could stop it.

Luckily, she didn’t take offense. She only smiled, a secret smile that intrigued me like nothing else, and told me she’d let me settle in before spinning around and walking away. The sound of a door opening and closing echoed from the other side of the house, in the direction of the kitchen.

I heard a shout from Belle, then the sound of nails scrabbling across the wood floors. I spun toward the door just in time to see a small horse gallop into my bedroom. Before I knew what was happening, I was on my back on the floor with the giant beast on my chest. A sandpaper tongue scraped across my face, making me laugh.

“Thanos! No! Bad boy.”

Annabelle’s voice rang out as her footsteps pounded toward me. She grunted and groaned, pulling the beast’s weight off me. I sat up, wiping a hand down my wet face as I took in the sight before me. Annabelle, looking somehow angry and remorseful at the same time, holding the collar of one of the biggest dogs I’d ever seen.

“I’m so sorry, Ryder. I put him out in the yard so you could settle in before meeting him. I didn’t intend for your introduction to go like that.”

Thanos, obviously named for his wrinkled face and chin, was a large French Mastiff with a glossy brown coat and huge green eyes. He was panting excitedly, pulling against Belle’s hold on his collar. I climbed to my feet and moved toward them.

“It’s okay,” I said, squatting down in front of the beast. “He just took me by surprise. Didn’t you, boy?”

I scratched his head and behind his ears and was rewarded with another attack of his tongue against my face. Belle must’ve released him, because he pushed forward, knocking me off my heels and back onto my ass. I barked out a laugh as he tried to climb into my lap.

“Well, I guess this means he likes you,” Belle said, chuckling.

“I like him, too,” I chuffed in that voice all dog lovers use while scratching his sides. “Isn’t that right, Thanos? We’re going to be best friends.”

Belle laughed again as she wrapped her hand around the dog’s collar and pulled him away from me. “I’m going to feed this big guy. Speaking of food, I ordered dinner. I hope you’re hungry.”

“Starving,” I confirmed.

“Good. Meet me in the kitchen when you’re done settling in.”

She clucked her tongue and told Thanos to come, and he fell into step beside her as she left the room, his tail wagging happily behind him. I stared at the empty doorway for a moment, images of the three of us—Belle, Thanos, and me—walking along the wooded trails that surrounded the house. Long car rides, his huge tongue lolling out as he shoved his head through the open window. Cuddling on the couch together, watching a movie.

Some emotion tickled the back of my mind, making me distinctly uncomfortable with that train of thought. It felt like longing, yet I knew rationally that this whole situation was temporary. I needed to remember that before I got too comfortable.

I pulled the ring box from my pocket and flipped open the lid. The diamond may have been small, but it was exquisitely cut. Even in the dim light of the setting sun shining through the window, it sparkled and shined. Snapping it closed, I shoved the box back into my pocket and finished unpacking.

When I entered the kitchen, the sight that met me nearly took my breath away. Annabelle was barefoot, dancing around the kitchen to a pop song with a peppy beat that played from a speaker on the counter. She was flipping open the lids of two pizza boxes as she danced, then leaned over one and inhaled deeply. Plucking a pepperoni from one of the pies, she popped it into her mouth before snagging another and tossing it to Thanos, who sat obediently beside her.

The same feeling I had earlier washed over me, and I cleared my throat in an attempt to shake it off. Belle startled, her body freezing mid-sway as her eyes darted up to meet mine.

“Astara, off,” she said, and the music cut off abruptly. A pink blush stained her cheeks as she smiled brightly at me. “I hope you like pizza.”

“Does anyone not like pizza?” I asked, the life returning to my body as I stepped forward.

“Good,” she said. “I don’t know if I could marry you if you didn’t.”

She shot me a flirty wink, and my tongue swelled in my mouth. What the fuck was wrong with me? Shaking my head, I cleared my throat again and moved to the opposite side of the kitchen island. I felt safer with the blockade between us.

“I got one pepperoni and one sausage and mushroom. I wasn’t sure what you liked,” she said, offering me a plastic plate and a napkin.

“I like pretty much everything, except pineapple. Pineapple on pizza is disgusting.”

“On that, we agree,” she said, smiling. “Gosh, we have so much in common, we should totally get married!”

Laughter fluttered out of her as she made her way to the table with a full plate and a bottle of beer. She’d already opened one for me, too, and I picked it up and chugged half of it. Loading up my own plate, I carried it and my beer over to the table, taking the seat across from her.

“Speaking of,” I said, swallowing thickly, “I have something for you.”

I pulled the box from my pocket, my heart pounding in my chest as I placed it on the table in front of her. I silently cursed myself for being nervous, reminding myself—yet again—that this wasn’t real. But if she hated the ring…

My internal monologue cut off when I realized Belle had frozen in her seat. She was staring at the box with wide eyes, her torso leaning back as if she were afraid the box would bite her. Her anxiety did wonders to calm mine.

“It’s not going to attack you, Belle. Just open it,” I said, my voice filled with soft humor.

She snapped out of it at the sound of my voice, and nervous laughter tittered out of her as she slowly picked up the box. Her fingertips brushed over the soft velvet like she was trying to drag the moment out, and my fucking nerves started ratcheting back up.

When she finally flipped open the lid, her nostrils flared. Her eyes went round, glassy blue saucers that didn’t blink for an unnaturally long stretch of time.

“I hope you like it,” I said, my words fast and furious. “I thought, if you’re agreeable, we could fly to Vegas for the weekend. Of course, if you want a real wedding with your family and friends, we could—”

“No,” she said, cutting me off as she finally blinked and looked away from the ring. “Vegas is perfect, actually. Are you available this weekend?”

She plucked the ring from the box and slid it onto her finger. It looked…good on her. Really good.

She picked up a slice of pizza and bit into it, completely shedding whatever catatonic state she’d been trapped in. Like that whole moment had never happened.

Maybe it didn’t. Maybe I imagined it. Maybe she was simply surprised that I’d bought a ring. Or she was disappointed by the size of the diamond.

Whatever the case, the moment was gone, and we were back to business, as usual.

“Sure. This weekend works for me,” I said.

“Great,” she replied. “I’ll take care of the details.

“Great,” I repeated back to her, wondering why she refused to meet my gaze.

And why the fact that she wouldn’t look at me seemed to matter so much.