Sinful Ever After (Romance Collection)

by Vivian Wood

  There aren’t enough eye rolls in the world to express how I feel about the guy. Seeing him touch Rachel was almost enough to make me snap. I feel like that says a little more about my feelings for Rachel than about any quality of Clay’s, but I digress.

  The feeling of jealousy slides through my stomach like a cold knife. It makes me realize that I’m not over Rachel. I still feel some type of way about her, no matter what I’ve been telling myself.

  I hear footsteps in the woods, coming towards me. Sitting up, I wait. Although I am thousands of miles away from the desert, there is something reminiscent about waiting and watching that makes me uncomfortable. My muscles clench, tensing up for a fight.

  But then I see Rachel, stalking toward me with a determined look on her face. At first I start listing to myself the things that she could be mad about. Namely that I kissed her a few days ago and I have been trying not to bring that conversation up… ever.

  She tosses her head as she storms up to me. “I need to talk to you in private,” she says through clenched teeth.

  Fuck. She’s going to want to talk about that kiss. Fuck.

  She lifts her eyebrows, shooting an annoyed glance over her shoulder. I clamber out of my hammock, bringing myself to my full height. Her brown eyes take in my full form, a little hesitation on her face. She bites her lip for a second and a crease forms between her brows.

  Then Rachel jerks her head. “Come on. This way.”

  She sets off in the opposite direction of the camp, moving so quickly that I have to nearly trot to keep up. I have to admire that in her, because she’s all but flat-out running. A smile creeps onto my face as I watch her little body in motion.

  We walk a few minutes away and then she suddenly whirls around.

  “I need you.”

  My whole body perks up. “You need me?”

  She sucks her bottom lip in between her teeth again. I like the deep shade of pink that she turns.

  “Yes.” She hesitates. “I need you to pretend we are having sex, to drive Clay away. I mean, we would fake it, obviously, but…”

  That is just not what I expected her to say. My eyebrows shoot up. “What?”

  “I need you to help me fool Clay. Just… I need him gone. Please?”

  She pins me with a beseeching look, one that I have never been able to say no to. I feel my resistance sliding away.

  “Okay…” I agree, narrowing my eyes. “I need a little more than that.”

  She can’t even meet my gaze. “No, it’s just… I need it to be really, really believable. He already thinks we’re doing something together up here in the mountains, so…”

  Her blush deepens. I would crack up at how embarrassed she is, but this affects me too.

  “I don't know, Rachel…”

  She looks up and catches me gaze, locking me in place. “Don’t you think you owe me at least one favor?”

  The ferocity of her statement takes me breath away. Now I’m the one who can’t meet her gaze. I let my eyes slide down and away.

  She’s right, of course. There is so much that I owe her for. I can’t even begin to set the course right again, but I can do this. It’s a decent start.

  “All right.”

  She looks a little surprised. “All right?”

  I rub the back of my neck and nod. “Yes.”

  “Oh.” She straightens her back. “I mean… great. That’s what I wanted.”

  “Good.” I fidget. “Great.”

  “Umm.” She blushes again. “Do you think maybe we should establish some ground rules, considering our history?”

  There is nothing I want to do less, honestly. “I think as long as it’s fake, we should be okay. Right?”

  She sucks in a breath and looks me in the eye. “You think so?”

  I shrug. “We’re both adults, Rachel. We should be able to fake having sex without it getting messy.”

  She blows out her breath in a stream. “Yeah. I mean… we don't have to start right now, do we?”

  “No.” I fold my arms across my chest. “We can start after dinner, if you want. It would give us both the opportunity to shower.”

  She gives me a vague smile. “Are you saying that I smell bad?”

  I shrug again, playing stoic. “I’ve smelled worse.”

  Rachel rolls her eyes. “I would argue with you, but I’m absolutely certain that I need to bathe. I’ll see you in a couple of hours?”

  Her slightly embarrassed expression makes me crack a smile.

  “Yep. Be prepared to have an instant boyfriend.”

  Her eyes narrow even though she doesn’t have anything to argue with me about. She just makes a little hmm noise and tosses her hair, heading back to the camp site. I watch her go, my heart beating loudly against my ribs.

  Yup. I definitely just agreed to her ridiculous plan just because she pulled the hurt baby deer card. It absolutely is a terrible plan and I can already feel the repercussions weighing down on my shoulders.

  But I still feel an immense amount of guilt for leaving Rachel. If she cites the hurt I caused her back then, I would walk barefoot through hot coals for her. I probably would’ve been better off doing that; at least walking on coals would only punish me until the heat blisters faded.

  The effects of having a fake relationship are entirely unknown at this point.

  Fuck.

  Fuck, I’m in this thing now. Not only that, but I’m panicking. Her guilt trip might have been innocently meant, but for me the ramifications are all too real.

  I close my eyes and suck in a breath. I say the words that I need to hear.

  “It is the year 2018.” I suck in another breath. “It is the fifth month, the month of May. It is the fourteenth of the month, a Thursday. I’m currently in the Olympic National Park. My name is Grayson James Sellwood and I am okay.”

  I keep reciting my mantra for the next two hours, through cleaning myself up and meditation practice. As the sun begins to slip lower in the sky, I feel centered enough to begin walking to the camp site.

  As I walk, I give myself a pep talk.

  I can do this. I’ll just concentrate on making the meal and let her do the heavy lifting, “relationship”-wise.

  When I get to the camp site, there is already a meal laid out on a rusty little table that Rachel dragged over from behind the cabins. Three weathered folding camp chairs have been pulled up to the table. Clay is sitting in one, his expression bored.

  Rachel carries three metal drinking mugs over from her cabin, favoring Clay with a look that is nothing short of murderous. When she spots me, she perks up. It’s the strangest feeling ever, after the last ten days of weirdness.

  “Hey you,” she greets me. She sets the mugs down on the table. “Clay brought dinner all the way from Seattle.”

  I pull up one of the chairs to the table, looking at the food. There is a large salad and pasta with red sauce. It looks delicious, no lie. Then again, I haven’t really eaten a full meal today.

  “It’s all growing cold or hot,” Clay criticizes. “We should’ve eaten as soon as I arrived.”

  Rachel ignores him. She scoots her chair closer to mine, shooting me a meaningful smile.

  “It looks great. Isn’t that right, darling?”

  Clay and I both freeze. I fumble for words. “Umm…”

  She smiles wider. “Here, let me serve you.”

  She uses two forks to add a heap of salad to my plate and then spoons several huge piles of pasta next to that. I’m a little baffled by her behavior, but it’s obviously working. Clay is shooting us glares and muttering under his breath.

  I tuck into the meal, more concerned about how delicious the pasta is than Clay’s animosity. Rachel is busy putting on a show, though.

  “Mmm,” she says, taking a bite of the pasta. “I don't know if it’s the fresh air out here or what, but this might be the best pasta I’ve ever had. You’ll have to give me the name so I can go there again, Clay.”

  Clay doesn’t look
pleased to hear that. “Why bother knowing the name of someplace you’ll probably never have time to visit?”

  Her lips lift. “Oh, I don't know about that. You get into the city pretty regularly, right Gray?”

  I’m a little stunned by her casual use of my nickname. “Umm. Yes?”

  A flat-out lie, but it plays into her whole game. She rewards me with a smile.

  “You’ve got a little bit of pasta sauce right there...” She leans in and smears my lower lip with pasta sauce. “Oops. I think I made it worse. Let me try to fix it again…”

  Then she presses her lips to mine, sucking on my lower lip. I taste the salt of the pasta and the tang of tomatoes over her sweet vanilla scent.

  Fuck. I forget that Clay is watching. I forget that I’m hungry for food. For just that second, it feels so good to kiss her that the world around us ceases to exist.

  I freeze for a second, then remember we are supposed to be play acting. So I groan softly and grab the back of her head, deepening the kiss.

  I allow my eyes to fall closed, letting the kiss vibrate across my skin. The only places I have contact with her are the back of my hand and my lips, but I feel the movement of her lips reverberating throughout my whole body. My arms and shoulders tighten just a little. I lean closer.

  Seeking. Hungry.

  She makes a quiet noise, the barest moan. It unlocks a primal part of me, makes me pull her closer. My fingers twine in her hair, my lips trail down to her jaw.

  Touching Rachel feels like the most natural thing in the world. At the same time, it is the most dangerous thing I could do right now. I find that spot on her neck, the one that when I touch my lips to it she always whimpers. I suck very lightly.

  The responsive little animal that she is, she makes this soft ‘ohhhh’.

  My hand goes around her body, pulling her closer. Our chairs are between us, leaning awkwardly. But I barely notice them. I’m ravenous all of a sudden for something that wasn’t on the menu until just now.

  Her head falls back, another tiny moan of desire pulled from her lips. Then I feel her lock up and push me away. Opening my eyes, I see her blush bright pink. Her gaze darts to Clay, who I’d honestly forgotten completely.

  He looks pissed.

  “Sorry,” she blurts out. She straightens, pushing me further away. “It’s just that since you already know about Grayson and I, I felt that there was no need to hide it anymore.” Her lips quirk. “I’ve moved on, Clay.”

  Clay sputters, standing up so fast that he knocks his chair backward. “If you two are fucking, there isn’t any point in my being here, is there?”

  She doesn’t beam at his words, but I can tell that she is trying to contain herself. She pushes her hair back out of her face. “I tried to tell you that already.”

  Clay looks at me, a sneer on his lips. “Good luck fucking her. Seriously, she’s as frigid as the polar ice cap.”

  I lean forward, a sneer on my lips. “She’s always hot and wet and eager for me.”

  His nostrils flare. “Maybe you’ll have better luck in that department. And anyway, I doubt you will ever be able to take my place, at least in her family’s eyes.”

  That stings a little, even though it’s nothing but the truth.

  He turns and stalks to his Range Rover, slamming the door and revving the engine before peeling out. Once he’s gone, I look at Rachel.

  She clears her throat and stands up, stacking the dishes. “Do you want the rest of the pasta?”

  “Should we talk about… whatever that was? I mean, you were… and I was…” I adjust how I’m sitting, because now I have this hard-on that won’t go away.

  She just gives a bark of laughter and scoops up the plates. “I will see you tomorrow.”

  With that, she jogs off toward the cabins.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Rachel

  I sigh, lying on the uncomfortable little cot in my tiny cabin. The last couple of days have been an exercise in self-control. I absolutely don't want to talk to Grayson about what happened between us the other day. I definitely don't want to be laying here right now, thinking about how good his lips felt on my neck. Or how they would feel on my breasts or my clit.

  To distract from the fact that I’m sort of coming apart at the seams a little, I set a punishing amount of miles for the two of us to hike the last two days. Enough that I barely made it back to camp before sagging onto this little cot, two days in a row.

  Grayson is on my mind basically all the time. I think about the way he smells, all woodsy and manly. I think about the two kisses we’ve shared recently. I remember how it felt back when we were together and think about how good he could make my body feel now.

  In an attempt to drive those thoughts from my head, I push harder and hike faster. Yet somehow, I can’t sleep.

  I can’t get Grayson out of my head. And I already know from experience that when I do fall asleep, I will dream of him. In my dreams, I lack the flimsy boundaries that I have when I’m awake. So there is every chance that I will wake up with my body throbbing with the very real need that Grayson accidentally seems to have stirred up.

  Blowing out a long breath, I admit it to myself. I don't have to go to sleep to ache with want. I’m not sure what exactly started this, but now the genie is out of the bottle. There is no amount of exercising or meditating on nature that will make my need lessen.

  There are two options I can see to resolve this.

  One, I go crawl into Grayson’s hammock and fuck his brains out. It would be messy and have so many consequences, but in the moment it would be deeply gratifying.

  And I already know that I would be satisfied. I seem to remember that Grayson is hung like a horse. My mouth waters, just thinking about it.

  Two, I take care of my own needs. It seems way less appealing, but it wouldn’t leave strings to be cut later.

  I sigh. Obviously I’ll have to do the latter, but the former is just so damned appealing. Pushing the tiny sleep shorts down to my knees, I let my eyes sink closed and summon the image of Grayson.

  In my mind, he’s hovering over me, undressing me in a hurry. His blue eyes are full of desire, his hands trembling with need. He bows before me, kissing a spot just under my navel.

  My fingers find my clit. I’m already soaking wet, my clit blossoming under my fingertips as I begin to stroke myself.

  In my mind, though, it’s Grayson parting my thighs. Burying his face between my legs. Making me groan.

  “Grayson,” I call out hungrily. God, I’m ready to come just thinking about him.

  There is a knock on my door. My eyes fly open. I freeze, my fingers soaked with my own juices.

  “Rachel? Did you call for me?” Grayson asks.

  Oh fuck. I rip my hands away from between my thighs and yank my shorts up.

  “Uhh…” I call. Looking for somewhere to wipe my fingers, I settle on the sleeping bag beneath me. “Just a second.”

  I bounce up to my feet, crossing the tiny cabin. Pulling open the door, I reveal Grayson, looking as brooding as ever. His forehead is wrinkled with concern.

  “Are you okay?” he asks, cocking his head. “You look a little flushed.”

  His comment makes me blush more. “Umm. Yeah. I’m fine. What are you doing by my cabin in the middle of the night?”

  “It’s going to rain. I was moving inside for a few hours.” He shrugs. “Besides, it’s not that late. It’s only eleven p.m.”

  Looking at the sky behind his head, I see that thunderclouds are in fact gathering.

  “I see.” For an awkward moment, I don't know what I’m supposed to do. Then I step back, waving a hand. “Want some company? I won’t bite.”

  Grayson looks at me, hesitating for a heartbeat. Then he blows out a breath. “Yeah, sure.”

  He wedges his large frame by me, careful not to touch me. He casts his gaze around the small space, shrugging and then sitting down in the exact space I was just occupying not two minutes ago. Blushing fu
riously, I sit beside him, refusing to think about what I was doing just a few minutes earlier.

  I pull my legs up, sitting cross-legged. He lounges beside me, dwarfing me. I shoot him a humorless smile.

  We need a nice neutral topic to discuss. Nothing sad and absolutely nothing racy.

  “So… do you usually come inside whenever it rains?”

  He nods. “Yep.”

  Very helpful. “What got you started sleeping outside?”

  He exhales. “I can’t stand to be inside for too long anymore. It makes me… I don’t know, itchy and anxious I guess.”

  My brow furrows. “Really? You weren’t always like that.”

  He scratches his chin. “It’s got to do with the war.”

  “Oh.” I am not quite sure what to say to that, honestly. It feels strange, trying to pull these answers from him. I can feel Grayson’s gaze on me, looking at me critically. What he says takes my breath away.

  “I missed you,” he says softly. I meet his gaze, surprised, but he just continues. “Out here, under all the stars, I thought about you all the time. I thought that it would go away eventually, the missing you. But it never did.”

  He rasps the last bit. I look up at him, my eyes starting to fill with my tears. I want to scream at him. I want to beg him for answers.

  Why, if he missed me so badly, did he keep his distance?

  But I don't do any of that. Instead I just let my head drop.

  What good will answers do me at this point?

  He surprises me again by brushing some strands of my hair back behind my ear. When he speaks, it’s barely a whisper.

  “I dreamed of you. Of your blonde hair. And your smile…” He moves his hand to touch the place where my jaw meets my neck. I suck in breath and stare into his eyes.

  A smile plays across his lips for a second. “I’m sorry. You do know that, don't you?”

  I push myself forward, kissing him fully on the mouth. He freezes for a second then cups my face, kissing me so tenderly that I could cry. His mouth tastes salty, just the way I know the rest of his skin would taste if I peeled away his clothes. His tongue pushes into my mouth, invading and possessing, taking what he wants.