Happily Ever After: A Contemporary Romance Boxed Set

by Piper Rayne

  My dress is now bunched in the seam of my lap while he strokes my thighs, softly, up and down. Then, he tugs the fabric up, gently easing it from under me, then expertly lifting it over my head. I’m now completely exposed in just my bra and undies.

  I brace myself for some kind of comment, like Shea’s Oh my God, you’re big, followed by a lustful squeeze the first time we fully made out. But Caleb leans back in for a kiss—a tender one, as if he knows these struggles. He strokes down my arm, which gives me a violent case of goose bumps.

  “Come here, doll,” he murmurs, and urges me to lay down. Flat on my back, with the bright stars twinkling above us, my mind starts to empty. Caleb kisses me while his fingers explore, starting with my shoulder, then down my arm, then up and down my thigh. I squirm a little because he’s missed all my tingly places. Is he doing it on purpose to get me even more excited?

  He pulls back, wearing a salacious grin, then dives in to kiss the crook of my shoulder. A zing of energy explodes everywhere, forcing my stomach muscles to clench.

  He chuckles but doesn’t stop, kissing down the top of my chest, sliding the edge of my bra strap to kiss beneath it.

  My breathing quickens. I caress his shoulder as he lowers further, his wet lips making my skin jump like it’s a live thing, with a mind of its own. If it had a voice it would be saying kiss me, lick me, bite me.

  Maybe he can hear this secret language because he brushes his lips over my now-aching nipple. I try to hold in my gasp, but it escapes through my teeth. Caleb caresses my other breast while continuing with his mouth on the first, wrapping his lips around me, then grazing with his teeth.

  “I want to touch you,” he says, moving back to the other breast.

  “Yes,” I breathe, arching my back when he slides his hand there to unclasp the bra.

  The kind I wear has four rows of tight hooks in the back, but I shouldn’t have worried because in one deft flick, Caleb releases them and slides the bra from my arms.

  An ache electrifies my breasts now that there’s nothing between us. I’m still arching to him when he lowers his lips, his hands coming under to cradle and caress my skin while his tongue flicks and swirls. My fingers grip clumps of the flannel as he sucks me inside his mouth, his tongue caressing in a way that makes my toes curl.

  Oh. My. God.

  Within minutes I’m squirming and panting. He attends to each breast with such focus, his fingers and tongue stroking, teasing, tasting. Hot blood is thumping painfully between my legs now, and the ache to feel Caleb is so intense I have to bite my lip to keep from begging him to touch me.

  I’ve only dated two guys in my life, and though we fooled around some, I’m no expert, but neither of them turned me on even half as much as this. I’m like a rocket, engines gearing up for liftoff.

  Caleb gently squeezes my breasts together, alternating licks between each one, a soft groan rumbling from the back of his throat.

  He kisses the underside of one, and I flinch because he’s found the welt.

  Caleb leans back to inspect my skin. “Ouch,” he says with a concerned gaze.

  “It’s nothing,” I say quickly, reaching down to caress his shoulder.

  His eyes darken. “Doesn’t look like nothing. What’s it from?”

  I shrug it off. “My anatomy,” I reply.

  He gives me a confused look, but instead of dwelling on something so very unsexy, I roll on top of his chest.

  His eyes go wide for an instant, and then he’s pulling my face to his for a kiss.

  “Fuck, you feel good,” he groans, shifting my frame slightly so that my thighs fit inside the V made by his. The firm ridge of his erection presses against my pelvis, but the base of him presses into the exact spot where I’m pulsing.

  He’s hard. Unyielding.

  I shudder. Back home, only two of my nerd herd friends have done it: Hannah and Charlie. Hannah’s steady is in college, so they did it on like their second date. She said her first time sucked. She was nervous and he was really excited, but since then it’s gotten better. Charlie told me it hurt so bad she had to stop, and the guy got pissed.

  Caleb caresses down my bare back to the edge of my panties. His fingers slip underneath, and he strokes over my butt. Startled, I press my hips into his. He strokes me in circles, his thumb dragging slowly around and around. Then he cups me softly and tugs me against him.

  He groans as the ridge in his shorts grinds into my hip.

  He urges my chest up. My heavy breasts swing free. He grasps me gently and draws one and then the other into his mouth. The pressure of his hard shaft against where I’m throbbing coupled with his slippery, sensual tongue starts a fire in my belly. I start to grind against him in little pulses, urged on by the way he’s rolling against me too.

  This must send some kind of signal because he rolls me to my back and quickly unzips his shorts, then he’s naked and kissing down my body. I start to shiver again but he doesn’t seem to notice.

  He tugs my underwear off. I force the tension out of my thighs. I’m so turned on right now there’s no way this is going to hurt.

  “Mmm, you want this, don’t you?” Caleb says as he comes back and parts my thighs. He gives me a glance with those smoldering eyes but I’m blushing so hard I can’t speak.

  “Let me make you come,” he says.

  I pinch my lips shut to counter my shock. “Oh, um, that’s okay,” I manage. Shea could never get me there, and I’m not about to lay here all night watching Caleb get frustrated.

  He gives me a curious look.

  “Really,” I say to close the subject. “I want you … the other way.”

  He chuckles, and I get a look at his cock. It’s like a mini version of him, thick and long.

  Freaking heck, this is it. It’s finally happening.

  He kisses up my body, slowly, lingering at my breasts until I’m practically begging him to stop because it’s so intense. He reaches down and caresses my folds, gently. Everything is slippery and full and pulsing and incredible.

  “You sure I can’t take you there first?” he asks, poised above my breasts.

  I nod. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

  His eyes cloud. “You okay?”

  “Yeah,” I reply quickly. “It just … feels so good.”

  He grins, then urges my thighs apart and kneels between them. He pulls a condom from his shorts pocket and rolls it on.

  I try not to stare—he’s much bigger than Shea. Like a lot.

  Then, he kisses up my belly and grips himself, guiding the tip to my center.

  I force a breath through my nose and concentrate on all the sensations of this moment: our fast breaths, the bright stars, the soft flannel, his smooth skin, my hot, needy blood.

  Slowly, he pushes inside, creating a delicious fullness that takes me by complete surprise. He arches out slightly and then in again. This time, I feel a pinch of discomfort.

  Caleb groans. “Fuck, you’re tight.”

  I get scared he’s going to realize what that means and shift my hips. He glides deeper.

  Caleb arches down to kiss me, a deep, firm kiss that makes all rational thought leave my mind.

  His next stroke fills me completely. I gasp because though it’s not painful, it’s … intense.

  “I’ve been thinking about this since that night on the river,” he says in a gruff voice, his hips rolling firmly against mine.

  My world is spinning like a kaleidoscope, but I manage, “Me too.”

  He groans, leaning down to suck on the crook of my shoulder. “This isn’t going to be enough for me,” he says, moving faster. “Stay with me tonight,” he adds.

  Inside me, everything is heating, pulsing. There’s a tingle happening at the base of my core. It’s thrilling, intoxicating.

  “God you feel so fucking good,” he groans, and arches his spine to reach my breasts.

  I gasp as he kisses me there—it’s almost too much.

  “I want you to come,” he says, his voice rough
and needy.

  “Oh, don’t worry about me,” I say in a rush.

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he asks, looking up from between my breasts. “This isn’t a solo flight.”

  “Really, it’s okay,” I say.

  “Fuck,” he groans, clenching his eyes shut, as if in pain. He comes up to kiss me as his hips arch faster, his body pressing firmly into mine. Everything feels so good, and maybe if I had more time, with his lips tugging at my breasts the way they just were, something might happen. But I’m too shy to ask. He’s obviously ready and I’m not about to hold him back.

  With a grunt he arches into me firmly once, twice, then again, hard. It’s so sexy and primal that a pulse of desire coils inside my core.

  As his face clenches tight in pleasure I get a sudden craving. I want this again.

  Caleb rests his body on top mine while our chests rise and fall together. The steady weight of him feels so good. He’s so strong and warm, but his kindness and desire to make me feel good too is just as reassuring.

  “That was so unfair,” he groans.

  With a huff he slides out of me, kissing his way down before flipping over to sit. He slides off the condom, disposing of it in a bandana he pulls from the pocket of his shorts.

  My body pulses with a soft heat. Inside, I’m tingly, yet empty. It’s a strange feeling to have.

  “You’re not gonna pull that on me later tonight,” he says, eyeing me shrewdly.

  “Pull what?” I ask, baffled.

  “Whatever you did that made me come like a freaking fifteen-year-old,” he says, exasperated. He lowers back down next to me and props his head on his elbow.

  “I didn’t do anything,” I protest.

  He wags his finger, chiding me. “Just for that you’re going to come at least twice next time.”

  A tense shiver runs through me. “Oh,” is the only word I can muster.

  But he’s focusing on where he’s caressing up and down my body. “You’re so freaking perfect.”

  Heat creeps up my neck and I want to protest—I’m far from perfect.

  A series of snapping, loud pops erupts from somewhere close by, which seems to break him from his trance. “Maybe we should get back,” he says.

  He hands me my clothes and we dress in silence. “But I meant what I said,” he says, pulling me to stand. “You’ll stay?”

  8

  Caleb

  I’m sure I’m glowing like a goddamn roman candle as we re-enter the party, but I try to keep my cool. Though Lori and I naturally separate—Annika grabs her to play a game of cornhole and the beer tubs need more ice—I don’t take my eyes off her.

  Damn.

  My high from our rooftop fuck slowly fades, but my limbs retain a zippy spark, like I could do a back handspring.

  This isn’t going to be enough for me echoes through my head. Even though it came out a total surprise, I meant it.

  Lori’s soft skin bathed in starlight plays over and over in my mind. That and the way she reacted to my touch. I groan and thankfully, nobody hears me. She totally blind sided me with that whole I’m not girlfriend material thing. Direct and to the point. I love it.

  I’m kicking myself for not insisting I make her come first though. And then to not get her there? I grimace. Pleasing a girl is one thing Caleb Morgan does not fuck up. Later, she’s going to come for me, all right, at least twice, even if it takes me all goddamn night.

  After tending to ice bucket duty, I join my circle of friends, but my eyes fix on Lori. I imagine all the ways I want to touch her, taste her. From where she’s playing with Annika, her laughter rises above the din of conversation and the muted zips and pops of fireworks. I’d like to hear that laugh again, but just for me.

  A little voice in the back of my brain is flashing a warning sign, but I ignore it.

  The party’s winding down and I’m inside taking a leak when I remember the love glove wadded up in my bandana. When I hurry to dispose of it, a red stain stops me in my tracks.

  Like some scientist, I straighten and peer at it in the light. Why is there blood? Fuck, did I hurt her?

  I search through everything that happened, replay every moment. Was I too drunk to notice something like that? I shake my head. I wasn’t drunk.

  I grimace at my reflection. This is totally not cool. I may be a fuckup in a lot of areas of my life, but this is not one of them. I don’t hurt girls. In fact, I would say that I give way more than I get, and that’s the way I like it. Gives me something to hold onto.

  What gets me even worse is that if I hurt her, why didn’t she say anything? And why would she agree to stay if she thought I might do it again?

  I brace my hands on the counter. Think, you bastard.

  In a flash, it all makes sense.

  After washing up and tossing my bandana in the laundry pile, I march out to the party. By now, only a handful of people remain so I instantly spot Lori sitting around the fire pit.

  Her eyes grow wide when I approach. Probably because I’m practically breathing fire.

  “Can I talk to you?” I ask, barely containing my frustration.

  “Okay,” she says, and rises from the bench she’s sharing with Annika, who gives me a suspicious look.

  I lead Lori inside but there’s two people I can’t identify making out on the couch, so I keep walking until we’re standing on the street.

  I wheel on her. “So tonight,” I begin, giving the roof of my house where we were naked only hours ago a quick glance. “Were you … a virgin?”

  Her eyes widen, then she chews her lip and looks away. Finally, she nods.

  I rub the back of my neck. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Her shoulders lift and drop in a one-second shrug, her gaze focused on the ground.

  I huff a giant sigh.

  “I didn’t want it to be a big deal,” she finally says.

  I try to reel in my emotions. “But it is a big deal.”

  “See?” she says, her head snapping up. “I was right. Would you have slept with me if I’d told you?”

  I frown. “Yeah. But I would have done things differently.”

  She crosses her arms. “Like what?”

  I grab onto her arm and it’s all I can do not to shake her. “Everything.”

  Heat flashes in her eyes.

  I need to stay mad at this girl. I don’t like being lied to. It reminds me too much of Delaney and the shit show she made of my life.

  “I’m sorry,” she says, looking pained. She hugs herself and gazes up at the stars, as if yearning to escape there.

  “It was supposed to happen at prom,” she says. “I…had everything ready.”

  A handful of the partygoers exit my house.

  I nod up the gravel road. “Let’s go for a walk,” I say because this sounds like a story. “There’s a playground up there. We’ll have it to ourselves.”

  Lori falls in next to me and we climb the gradual rise, the gravel crunching under our feet. We reach the top of the hill, which faces the broad plain that leads up to the mountains, but it’s so dark they’re a jagged, black cutout against the bright stars.

  “Halfway through the night, I found my date making out with the class slut.”

  I sigh, but I don’t think Lori hears it. “Jeez, Lori. That sucks.”

  We reach the edge of the playground, the swing set glinting in the muted glow from a streetlight. I step onto the cool grass, which wets my exposed toes.

  “Were you guys serious?” I ask. I’m still pissed, but my protective side is pegged. I would definitely enjoy kicking this guy’s ass.

  We each sit on a swing. “Yeah. Four months.”

  “I’m sorry, Lori, that’s shitty.”

  “The ironic thing?” she says with a bitter edge to her tone, “He was with someone else because he was tired of waiting.”

  I’m reading her loud and clear now, and it sucks, what happened. “So, I was your revenge fuck?”

  She spins to m
e, her eyes wide with shock, but then she sees my grin. “Wait, are you teasing me?”

  I shrug. “Maybe. Would you like me to?”

  Conflicting emotions battle for dominance on her face. Then, she bites her lip, and it’s all I can do not to pull her into my arms and kiss her.

  “I just wish you’d told me,” I say, tugging on a pinch of her dress.

  She rocks back and forth on her swing, pivoting on her heels. “You’re right.”

  “Did I hurt you?” I ask, bracing myself for her reply.

  “No,” she says, her eyes wide with surprise.

  A breath of relief empties my lungs. “Okay, good.”

  “It’s sweet that you care,” she says.

  I scoff. “Of course, I care.” I raise an eyebrow. “I’m a regular softie.”

  She smiles. “Totally didn’t expect that.”

  I tap my fist into my chest and gasp like she’s wounded me. “A guy can’t win these days,” I groan. “If I’m nice, girls think I’m a limp dick. If I come on strong, I’m a possessive asshole.”

  “Why not just be yourself, and let the cards fall where they may?” she says, lifting an eyebrow.

  I give her a look. “Speaking from experience, Adventure Girl?”

  She glances away—ha! Busted.

  “You wanna tell me about that?” I ask.

  “Tell you about what?” she replies, looking away.

  “Don’t get me wrong, that thing your forehead does when you decide to do something is fucking adorable.”

  “What little thing my eyebrow does?” she asks, her eyes flashing.

  I laugh, then point at where her brow is pointed like Captain Spock’s. “There.”

  “Ugh,” she groans in frustration.

  I reach for her hand. “Sorry to tease you.”

  “Is it really?” she asks, softly.

  “Is it what?”

  “Adorable.”

  I grab her face and kiss her, a soft, tender kiss that ignites my blood. “Yes,” I say. “Now tell me what you’re so goddamn determined about.”

  She smiles, and I release her.