Sinful Ever After (Romance Collection)

by Vivian Wood

  Sure enough, a few minutes later he pops his head into the library with a grin.

  “Anal?” he asks, wiggling his brows.

  I roll my eyes. “I’ll consider it. I’m willing to try it. But you have to make me really like it.”

  He steps into the room fully, smirking. Wandering over to me, Aiden grabs me by the waist and pulls me against him, grinding his erection against my hip. And god help me, I love it, though it makes me blush. “I have a plan. It involves fingers and tongues and maybe a butt plug first.” He grins evilly. “I don’t see any way you won’t fucking love it.”

  I roll my eyes. “You are the worst. Do you know that?”

  He looks down at me, eyes sparkling with mischief. “I’m aware.”

  Pushing him back a half step, I shake my head. “You came in here to help me, didn’t you?”

  “Sure.” He shrugs. “Whatever you want, I’m yours.”

  My heart flutters. I realize that he’s not talking about what I want him to be talking about, but still. I would kill for him to say that about our relationship.

  Drawing in a breath, I point up to the box. It’s wedged halfway in, sticking out from the rest of the bookshelf like a sore thumb. “I need you to get that down.”

  Aiden purses his lips, then climbs the ladder. He pulls the box free like it’s nothing, holding it under one arm as he brings it back down. Then he bows as he presents it to me.

  “My lady,” he says. “Careful, it’s heavy.”

  I look around. “Put it down on the table, will you? I want you to be here to open it.”

  He carries it over to the table, clearing off stacks of paper to make room for it. I follow, my curiosity piqued. The box is about the size of a legal pad, and less than twelve inches tall.

  Aiden clears off the covering of dust with one hand, stilling as he looks down at the box. I see what he sees a few seconds later.

  “Property of Thomas Morgan,” I read in a quiet voice. I look up at Aiden with wide eyes. “Does that mean… I mean, that’s your father, I think.”

  He isn’t listening to me, though. He is undoing the simple lock at the back of the box and lifting the wooden lid. His breath leaves him in a whoosh. My eyebrows rise.

  Inside the box, there is a thick padded envelope marked “Aiden”.

  “Oh my god,” I breathe. I glance up at him.

  He just looks like his mind is completely blown. “My dad knew about me,” Aiden mutters.

  “It seems so,” I say, for the sake of saying something.

  Aiden exhales a shaky breath. I move closer to him, slipping my arm around his waist and hugging him. He accepts the embrace wordlessly, taking a moment to look away and bury his face in my hair.

  “Do you… do you want to be alone while you open it?” I ask.

  He shakes his head, his fingers tightening on my hip. “No,” he says. “I want you here.”

  Although his face is blank, I’m sure that underneath that there is an ocean of feeling. The slight tremor in his hands as he picks up the envelope with his name on it is proof of that. There is a second envelope labeled “Carter” underneath, but Aiden’s attention is riveted on his own envelope.

  He opens it, upending the contents inside the box. A ring rolls out first, then a whole stack of papers. He picks up the ring between his thumb and forefinger, examining it; it’s delicate, made of gold, set with a large pink stone.

  We both stare at it for a long moment. An engagement ring, maybe? Setting that aside, Aiden shuffles through the papers. There are several stock certificates inside, a short stack of baby pictures that seem to be of Aiden, and a letter.

  Aiden lifts the letter up, clearing his throat.

  “Aiden,” he reads aloud. Then he takes a deep breath. He doesn’t read the letter, but he does hold it up so that I can read along.

  If you are reading this, it means I have passed away. I hope I got the chance to know you first — but if not, know that letting you go in the first place — letting your mother go — was not my choice. I lacked the free will to do what I wished, being married to Sandra when I met Anna.

  I hope that the man that raised you did right by you, more than I ever could.

  I am deeply, deeply sorry. I hope you and Anna both know that.

  Here are some stocks I bought to cover the cost of your education. You should receive an inheritance from my estate — talk to whoever is managing the family trust for that. I’ve also included the ring I bought for your mother, when it looked like my wife Sandra was going to give me my freedom.

  Your brother Carter doesn’t know about you, but I hope you’ll come to love each other. Is that too much to ask?

  Perhaps so.

  With affection,

  Your father Thom

  Aiden drops the letter, sighing. I glance anxiously at his face, but come up against that same kind of mask as before. Whatever he feels, he’s not showing it to me.

  “Hey,” I whisper, pulling on his shirt. When Aiden glances at me, I lick my lips. “I can’t read your face. Tell me what’s going on.”

  He shrugs but when he speaks his voice sounds strained. “I don’t know. I mean… on one hand, I guess it’s nice to know that he knew who I was. Or maybe it isn’t nice, because he could’ve reached out at any time… but he didn't.”

  I just want to burrow against him, to take away the pain I hear in his voice. Nodding, I settle for hugging him a little tighter. He blows out a breath.

  “God, my parents fucking sucked.” He shakes his head. “Anyway, it’s even more complicated than I thought, this mess between my mom and him. And… it just blows that this was all dropped in my lap like this. ‘Here, have this ring that I meant to give your mom.’ I mean… what is that, really?”

  After waiting to see if he has any more complaints, I rise up on my tiptoes and kiss him on the lips. “I’m sorry, Aiden. I’m sorry that this is your legacy. It isn’t fair.”

  His lips turn up at the corners, but his smile lacks warmth. “As the man who raised me used to say, tough shit. Life is unfair.”

  I take his hand, lacing his fingers with mine. “We should go back to your apartment. We’ll put on a record and drink some of that whiskey.” I kiss the back of his hand. “Okay?”

  He nods wordlessly, his attention on the box. “What should I do with Carter’s envelope?”

  Shaking my head, I make a face. “That I don’t know. I mean, probably give it to him. But not until you’re ready to tell him everything.”

  Aiden’s dark eyes come to rest on my face, somber. “You know what’s funny? I hadn’t actually considered telling Carter anything, even though I just read my father’s instructions.”

  My heart hurts for him. He looks so disappointed in everything.

  “Come on.” I tug his hand. “Bring the whole box. You can wait to decide what you are going to do with the contents.”

  Dumping the contents back inside the box, he does exactly that. As he follows me out of the library, I wish I could lift some of the burden from him. I’d do anything to make it easier.

  Who knew that out of the two of us, he’d be the one with a more screwed up life?

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Aiden

  For the next week, I eat, sleep, and breathe Olivia. It took a while to persuade her of my innocence… but eventually, with a lot of growling, I manage to do it. I may have promised Olivia some things, like for instance that I would go down on her until she came ten times.

  It isn’t really any punishment, because she tastes sweet and she likes to be fucked right after she comes against my mouth. She is pretty exacting though. She makes me be completely still while she explores my cock with her lips, which is its own kind of torture.

  We agree to keep working a few hours a day, but aside from that she is all I think about. All I see. And the few hours that I’m working, she’s on my mind.

  What it’s like to kiss her. To hear her breathy moans. What it’s like to be so damn deep inside
her that for a moment, I can barely tell where I end and she begins. I keep expecting to hit that wall, to have had enough of her. But the second I start thinking about that, she does something magical.

  Like sit by my record player, completely fucking naked, and put on the Rolling Stones. She glances over her shoulder just as “Wild Horses” comes on, looking utterly fucking bewitching.

  “This song is sad and hopeful, all at once,” she says softly.

  Man, do I know that exact feeling she’s talking about.

  How can I not feel my heart race for this woman? Wearing nothing and humming along to the beat of the song, she unmans me. And that fact twists me up inside.

  I’m supposed to let her go in a week. And right now, I can’t conceive of that fact.

  It isn’t fair.

  I’m just not ready.

  Maybe if I just don’t return to working for the National Park Service, I can still see Olivia discreetly. Grayson would never have to know…

  At least that’s what I am fantasizing about while I’m putting new gutters on the staff apartments.

  Is it possible? Maybe.

  Is it likely? Not a chance in hell.

  Not for me. Not for Olivia, the woman who’s my girlfriend in all but name.

  Maybe making Grayson hate me would be worth it, if I got Olivia in exchange. It would be terrible of course, but…

  Man, but then I would like… have to be her boyfriend or something. Like actually ask her. She’d have to agree. Then I would be spoken for.

  No more going home with the bartenders after closing down a wedding. No more wild nights when I wake up with someone random in a bed that’s not mine.

  Would that be worth it?

  I know in my heart that it would.

  “Hey! What the hell?”

  I am pulled out of my thoughts by Carter’s angry shout. I look up from where I am weed whacking near the main house. Turning the weed whacker off, I watch as he storms across the yard towards me.

  “Did you just use that thing over by my car?” he demands to know, pointing to the other side of the yard.

  I scrunch up my face. “An hour ago, yeah.”

  His face contorts. “Well you hit some rocks into the passenger side door! Do you realize how much that’s going to cost to repair?”

  I look past him, rolling my eyes. “It’s covered by your insurance.”

  “That’s not the point!” he seethes. “I’m going to have to take the deductible out of your paycheck, you know?”

  Setting the weed whacker down, I fold my arms across my chest. “I haven’t actually gotten a paycheck in a month.”

  That stops him in his tracks. “What? Why didn’t you say anything?”

  Because I’ve been a little busy burying my nose between your archivist’s legs, I think. But I just purse my lips. “I’m not here for the money, man.”

  Carter scowls. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? What else would you be here for?”

  Fuck it. I was going to try to think of a better way to tell the family that I might be one of them, but Carter is working my last nerve right now. I take a deep breath.

  “I think I’m a Morgan, dude. I came here to do research about the family. Find out what’s going on. Maybe take a paternity test while I’m at it.”

  Carter looks entirely disbelieving. “I’m sorry, you what? You’re fucking crazy.”

  “Really? You don’t think that I look exactly like you? Thomas Morgan was my father. I have proof. That means that I’m your half-brother.”

  He grits his teeth, leaning toward me. “You’re insane.”

  “Really?” I level a flat look at him. “Because I took a sample of some hair I found in your hairbrush. I added my sample as comparison, and shipped them off to a lab in Seattle. And that’s not even addressing the fact that Olivia found letters addressed to both of us, each of his sons.”

  For a second, he looks like I’ve just smacked him in the face. Then he grimaces and turns red.

  “Okay,” he says, shaking his head. “You’re done here. I don't understand what kind of scheme you have cooked up—”

  I narrow my eyes. “What scheme? Hanging out here, posing as the unpaid help?”

  That seems to push him over the edge. “You’re fired. Effective immediately. Get your stuff out of the staff apartments and get the fuck off of this property.”

  I snort. “I’d like to see you make me.”

  “I don't have to. My family is one of the biggest donors to the Clallam County sheriff department. I place one call and they will come out here and arrest you, for no reason other than I want them to.” He sneers. “The only reason I’m not calling them yet is that I don't want Aunt Margaret to realize that she hired such a fortune-seeking piece of trash.”

  I glare at him, my fists bunching. “And when I get the paternity test back? What will you do then? You can’t ignore me forever.”

  He finally loses whatever scrap of patience he had left. “I said get out! Go get your shit right fucking now!” he thunders.

  I can’t hear him. I respond instinctively to the tone of his voice, swiftly punching him right in the face. He groans but doesn’t give; he comes right back with a surprising force for someone that has obviously lived such a privileged life. I knock his knees out, sending us both sprawling to the ground.

  We grapple and throw a couple more punches before he finds his footing once more. He is breathing raggedly, his expression furious.

  “I don't know who you think you are, or who you claim to be. But until you can prove it, I don't want to see your fucking face around here anymore.” He spits on the ground, touching his bloodied lip. “Get the fuck out of here, Aiden. Don’t come back.”

  Then he turns, shaking his head, and stalks back up to the main house. I’m left sitting on the ground, staring angrily at where he just went. Behind me, thunder rolls, signaling a change in the weather.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Olivia

  I’m in my apartment emptying most of my dark chocolate into a trash can — it’s all either gone bad. Well, it’s either bad or I’m insane. Either way, I can’t stand the smell of it. I clean the cabinet that it’s in, gagging at the smell.

  How does chocolate even go bad?

  Taking the trash can outside to dump it in the bins beside my apartment, I almost run into a very pissed off looking Aiden. He storms past me, glaring and muttering under his breath.

  I shoot him a glare, hurrying after him as he enters his apartment. He doesn’t say anything; he just goes to the bedroom and roots around.

  “Aiden…” I say, sure that he’s being melodramatic. I lean up against the doorframe of his bedroom, watching as he gets a black duffel bag out from under his bed and starts to hurl things at it. “What are you doing?”

  He shakes his head as he tosses a couple of pairs of shoes toward the duffel bag. “I just got fucking fired. Giving us a week to get out was too long, I guess. And it was my own brother who fired me, no less. Fucking son of a bitch…”

  That makes me stand up a little straighter. “What? Why?”

  Aiden scowls. “From what I can tell, it’s because I told him that we are related.”

  Taking in his anger, I scrunch up my face. “Did you tell him when you were already mad? Because… I mean, not to excuse his actions or anything, but… you aren’t super great at giving big news, I bet.” I suck in my breath when he glares at me. “That came out wrong. What I meant to say is…”

  “I know what you meant,” he sneers, bristling.

  His tone makes my eyes widen. “Hey! I do not deserve to be the target of your outrage, Aiden.”

  That slows down his packing a little. He straightens up, glancing at me. “Yeah.” He scrubs a hand across his face. “Yeah. I’m sorry. I’m just… fucking furious right now.”

  His apology draws me across the threshold of the room. He holds his arm out and I burrow under it, wrapping my arms around his torso. I give him a squeeze and he w
raps his arms around me.

  “It’s going to be okay,” I tell him. “Even if you have to leave this place a little sooner than you planned… which no one says you have to, other than maybe Carter.”

  He blows out a frustrated breath. “It’s not leaving here that I’m worried about. It’s… well, leaving you.”

  My body freezes. I can honestly say that I was so worried about what was going on with Aiden that until this moment, it hadn’t really sunk in. Us… whatever the tentative things that form us are… all of that is dependent on being in this space.

  I’ve never put a lot of thought into what would happen when our time is up here. Or rather, I determinedly did not focus on that intentionally. Fantasies about him whispering I love you endlessly aside, I just… didn’t prepare myself for this moment.

  My eyes mist over. How do I even begin to tell Aiden that?

  “Olivia,” he says, his breath ruffling the hair by my ear. He hooks two fingers beneath my chin and raises my eyes to meet his. “You seem surprised. Come on, you had to have been worried about the end of things between us.”

  I shake my head, my lower lip beginning to wobble. “I didn't,” I say breathlessly.

  When he sees how emotional I am, he takes a step back, then leads me over to the bed. He sits me down, probably trying to gather his thoughts, figure out what he’s going to say to me.

  What are the exact words of his goodbye going to sound like?

  I can’t know. Not yet.

  So I just reach up to him, wordlessly needing him, my hands grabbing his t-shirt as my lips seek his. He sinks down with a sigh, letting me pull him in. We fuck, silent and angry, pushing and pulling and never quite getting enough of each other.

  I thought that there would be a point of saturation with him, of just having enough of Aiden. But if there is a point, I haven’t found it yet. The two months that we’ve had sex haven’t given me enough of being wrapped in his strong arms, his back as wide as a tree trunk, tangled with him as he moans my name.