Valentine's Day Kisses : Boxed Set

by Addison Moore

  The mattress shifts beneath me. With each thrust it slips further off the box spring until it eventually hits the wall, and I’m forced to grip the sheets for dear life lest gravity sends me sailing headfirst into the newly formed crevice.

  “Crap!” Wyatt digs into my hips so hard, I want to cry out in pain, in sort of a good way. He seizes—gripping me with the force of ten thousand maniacs. A sweet kiss lands on my ear. His chest is slicked with sweat, yet oddly cold to the touch, most likely from the arctic breeze whipping through the house, reminding us that we’ve managed to piss off Smokey the Bear in the dead of winter. “Did you like that?” He dots my ear with another searing kiss, and the iced air licks it as soon as he pulls away.

  “Nope. I loved that.” I twist until we’re finally facing one another. “I’m sorry I was so darn useless.”

  “What are you talking about?” He presses out a panting grin. “Believe me, I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  I consider this a moment as we snuggle into one another. “I suppose.” Even if it is more of a technicality. I curl up into a ball as I try to press my way into his chest for warmth. “You mind if I spend the night?” Good luck kicking me out if the answer is no. I’m down one melted sequin dress, and I’ve yet to walk home in nothing but heels.

  “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

  Wyatt pulls the covers to our ears, and I give an impish grin.

  “Thank you.” I lean up and offer a tender kiss to this magical man who rocked the bed quite literally.

  We fall asleep with the mattress still on its axis, the two of us exhausted from starting fires and putting them out with our bodies.

  Wyatt James sure knows how to give one darn good time.

  Too bad he’s not my boyfriend. Too bad I could never love him.

  Too bad love sucks so damn much.

  Too bad.

  Wyatt

  The morning light hits my lids, sawing its way into my skull like a rusted razor. My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth as I try to get my bearings. A tangle of blonde hair comes into focus as Marley lies cradled in my arms. The bed is still tipped on its side from last night’s romp and stomp. A dopey smile floats to my face as I stare down at her. Marley’s lips turn up at the corners as if she’s having one hell of a dream, and I don’t have the heart to wake her. Instead, I ease my way off the bed and stumble toward the kitchen.

  “Crap,” I muse as I survey the damage. The windows stare at me wide like toothless smiles without the curtains protectively layered over them. A trail of soot leads from the fireplace to the front door, and it’s freezing as hell out here.

  In the distance, I spot a few ranch hands milling around the corral. I’m pretty sure not one of them wants to see my bare ass, not this early, not with my man parts doing their best to invert from the icy winds. In a panic I shut all the windows, wrapping a blanket around my waist like a kilt. I put together a couple of bowls of cereal and head back to the bedroom before hypothermia sets in.

  “Morning,” Marley chirps, wedged between the wall and the mattress. Her sleepy eyed smile gives her that sexy drugged look that my boxers seems to approve of.

  “Come here, gorgeous.” I lend her a hand and help her upright before pulling the mattress back where it belongs.

  “If what happened last night is your MO, I suggest you nail your furniture to the ground—and maybe entertain fire retarding the place.” She winces and mouths, sorry.

  “After last night, I might have to.” I pull her down to the mattress with me and sink her over my lap. “You up for breakfast?” I distribute my culinary masterpiece. “Due to inclement weather in the kitchen, Sunday brunch will take another seven days to commence. But if you like marshmallow stars, you’re in luck.”

  “Every day, all day.” She dives a heaping spoonful into her mouth, her lips still ruby red. Marley is a natural beauty in the truest sense.

  “I’m glad you’re up for cereal. It’s what I eat regularly and often.”

  “That’s because you’re a bachelor. I bet on good days your diet consists of beer and beef jerky.”

  “It’s beer and donuts, but I’ll give you props for getting close.”

  “You really need a woman in your life.” She takes a spoonful and nods as she swallows it down. “I mean in general. Why hasn’t this happened for you?”

  “Timing was never right.”

  “Well, after those stunts you pulled last night, I’d think the women who’ve had the honor to tilt your mattress would have killed to keep you in their clutches—between their thighs to be specific.” Her lashes hang low a moment as the memory of last night burns her cheeks.

  “So I’m a keeper?”

  “You can pull your weight. I don’t see why not.” She puts the spoon in her mouth and pulls it out slowly. “I’m not sure there are such things as bedroom talents, but, you, my friend, clearly have them. Have you considered giving lessons? I mean not to guys, but I’m positive women from near and far would generously employ you to teach them a thing or two.”

  “No can do. I have my limits. Leasing myself out for cash wouldn’t have exactly made my mother proud.”

  She winces. “I bet you’re right. You think she’d want to see you married with two point five kids?” She sets down her bowl, and I do the same.

  “More than likely. She was a big believer in marriage—married three times. The first time she was eighteen, right out of high school.” I wrap my arms around Marley as my fingers graze down her back. “That lasted six months. Then she waited a couple years before tying the knot with my father. He was gone all the time, and she started drinking which led her to sobering up then becoming a counselor at the place she met the final train wreck of her life.”

  “That’s so sad.” She curls into my chest, and I land a kiss over the top of her head like she was my girlfriend.

  Is she my girlfriend? Sounds like verbiage that should have been written into the contract—although the point of that mockery was to send her in the opposite direction, and, yet, here she is, in my bed. Not that I’m complaining.

  “Why is that sad, Marley?” I drop a kiss to her cheek.

  “Because”—her finger absentmindedly traces over my abs—“it just sounds like she never had that special relationship that everybody dreams of.”

  “Is that something you dream of?” I want her to say yes. I want her to own it. Marley deserves so much more than a hookup—than a contract.

  “Used to,” she whispers warm against my skin. “But I’m tired of trying to forge reality to fit my dreams. Sometimes it doesn’t happen.” Marley glances up—her eyes moist with tears. “It’ll happen for you, though. You’re too good to be true.” Her lips curve up one side. “Plus, it doesn’t hurt that you know how to use your equipment like a boss.” Her hand glides down to said equipment, and she gives a gentle massage as I grow in her hand. “You’re going to make some girl insanely happy.” She averts her eyes. “But, in the meantime, I suggest you practice a little with yours truly.” Marley straddles me before touching down a soft kiss to my temple. Her lips move down until they meet with mine, and I latch onto her, coiling my arms tight around her waist as if she were about to float away.

  Why can’t Marley see that she deserves all those good things in a relationship? She deserves love just as much as my mother did, just as much as anyone else on the planet, if not more. She’s a sweet soul who had her heart burned right out of her chest by some scumbag idiot who didn’t know a good thing when he had it.

  I wonder what Marley would think if I told her she deserved something more and that I was the one who wanted to give it to her? I doubt she’d believe me. I’m the clown who handed her a legal document outlining the sterile nature of our questionable relationship. Even if I was trying to terrify her out of the proposition, it backfired spectacularly as do most things I undertake with my best intentions. But here we are, ready for another round—her soft body lying over my chest. I’m the one who should hav
e known better. I saw her tattered heart lying in pieces that first night at the Black Bear. I should have steered clear. I could have been a friend, a mentor—a boss. I’m just as responsible for the fact she’s trying to fill that void in her heart with raw affection. But, God, I want to give her affection, every minute of every day.

  My hands glide to her tiny waist, and I carefully roll her onto her back.

  Our eyes lock, hers with that easy, lustful gaze and mine with an intent to set things right between us.

  “I’m going to love you, Marley. Just the way I think you deserve.”

  Her mouth opens, her eyes widen in horror for a moment.

  My mouth finds hers as I dot her lips with a tender affection the way we did it that night we kissed at the bar. My mouth moves down her neck, to her shoulder, sweeping along to the other side.

  “Right now would be very nice,” she says.

  I don’t object.

  I make her every wish come true.

  Again and again.

  Later that afternoon, Marley and I head over to Blake’s to say goodbye to Piper and Cade.

  “What do you mean you’re not leaving?” I’m not amused one bit when Piper starts to throw a tantrum. She’s been known to throw a fit or two in her day. I’ve witnessed a few she knocked out of the park. Piper is famous for her pout and shout sessions.

  “I mean I like it here.” She flips her dark hair over her shoulder, and I still can’t get over the fact she looks more like one of the coeds at the Black Bear than she does my pigtail wearing little sister. “I love horses. I can feed the horses for you. There’s nothing I won’t do. Contrary to what you believe, I’m not a priss. I’ll even shovel buckets full of crap.” She pulls her lip to the side as if she’s consigned to the fact.

  “Perfect.” I cross my arms staring at her upturned face. If ever I wondered what I would have looked like as a girl, Piper answered my question—albeit she’s much prettier than I’m sure my hairy ass would’ve been. “All right.” I never could say no to that face. “You just scored yourself a summer job. Now pack your duffle bag. Blake is taking you to the airport.”

  Piper glares at me with a fire in her eyes. She has a stubborn streak as subtle as barbed wire.

  “You don’t know what it’s like at home. I hate it there! I freaking hate it!” She screams in my face as the cords in her neck pop like rope.

  I glance to Marley and blink an even smile as if to say I’ve got this all under control. The truth is, no one or nothing has ever controlled Piper James. I’m not saying she’s a witch. She’s just a little emotionally charged—all the damn time.

  “You’re getting on that plane because you have school, Piper. You have to be in homeroom tomorrow morning or the entire universe unravels.” Do they still put parents in jail if their kids are truant? Never mind. If I pose that non-threat to her, she’ll be elated. She’d love nothing more than to arrange a lengthy prison stay for dear old Pops. And, at the rate he’s defrauding investors of their hedge funds, he’s doing just fine landing himself there on his own. “I meant as soon as school wraps up, you can come down for the summer.” A part of me cringes because I know for a fact she’ll have to stay with me.

  Cade nods. “Blake and Annie gave us the tour of Whitney Briggs this morning.”

  “Really? Did you love it?” Marley wraps her arm around my waist, and I pull her in close. My entire person glows like a freaking Lite-Brite when she’s nearby. I don’t know why, but I’m all about playing house with her, pretending she’s the one.

  An adrenalin rush hits from out of nowhere as I gaze into the wall just beyond Piper’s head. Marley is the one? A dull laugh rumbles through me. Good God, I think she is the one. Marley is the one. She just doesn’t know it yet.

  “It was okay.” Piper wipes the imaginary dust off her shoulder as if giving WB the big FU.

  “Are you kidding? I loved it.” Cade is the perfect gentlemen. Blake has the habit of calling him the Pretty Preppy, but never to his face. Piper, of course, was happy to relay the message, and, ever since, Cade has referred to Blake as the Junkyard Dog. But, at the end of the day, we all still get along. I think we care for one another a little more now especially after what happened to Benji. “And if this one goes”—Cade rubs his knuckles over Piper’s head causing her to backhand him—“I’m transferring.”

  “Really?” She softens. “Thank you.” Piper latches onto him as if he was her favorite teddy bear, and in a lot of ways he is. As affectionate as my father was with me he was that much less with the two of them. Apparently metric distance didn’t account for much after all. Their mother runs the socialite circuit, and she never did have time or patience for wiping noses or bottoms. Piper and Cade belonged to a long line of nameless, faceless nannies. They’ve muddled their way through private school, and, now, it sounds as if they’re looking for their ticket out of the city—at least she is. Cade looks as if he’s about to follow just to keep an eye on his wild child of a baby sister.

  “Think it through. Sleep on it. Give it its due diligence, and all that good crap.” I pull them both into a hug before dropping a kiss onto Piper’s head. “Be good.”

  “See you in May?”

  “May?”

  “That’s when I get out.” Her emerald eyes expand twice their size. “You gave me the invite—consider it accepted.”

  “Sounds good.” And slightly regrettable.

  Blake shuttles them into his truck, and Annie waves them off with the baby in her arms. Out of all the family I have, my brother, the Junkyard Dog, seems to be the sanest of them all.

  Marley steals the baby from Annie, and, for a split second, I imagine that it’s our baby. That we have a future together. That we’re giving Blake a run for his sanity.

  It could happen.

  Stranger things have.

  “Bend over.” I give a gentle tap to her thigh, and Marley is quick to oblige. After gorging on takeout, we promptly undressed. I added a postscript to the contract: when in my home all clothes must be promptly removed. In truth, it was her idea, and I simply pulled out the document and made a quick addition. I knew she was brilliant.

  “Is this going to hurt?” Marley has her hands clasped onto her ankles. It’s some position she read about in Cosmo, in a long line of positions she’s read about in Cosmo, that she’s determined to test out tonight. Since tomorrow is Monday, and she’s essentially working for me at Capwell, she’s generously offered to spend the night. I’m not one to throw out good company, unless, of course, she’s due in homeroom clear across in another state.

  “It might.” I’m just being honest. This position lends for zero clearance. I had no idea when we came back to the house she’d be interested in acting out the carnal details of a fashion magazine, but I, for one, am game for whatever sexual misadventures Marley wants to dive into.

  I give a little power thrust, and she gasps.

  “Sorry,” I say, gripping her at the waist a little tighter. Out of all the positions we’ve rifled through this past hour, this one is by far the most impersonal. It gives off a headless woman vibe, like I bought some life-like blow up doll, and I happen to have the model with a pain threshold. “I’ll go easy.”

  “No!” Her blonde hair whips around my ankles soft as silk. “I need to know what this feels like.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” That’s right, all of the fun and games boil down to that little article she’s laid her body down for as an offering. I’m not too familiar with the field of sexual research, but if my volunteer services were called upon, who am I to complain? With Marley stepping in as the clinical investigator, it’s a privilege to be her trusty subject.

  I do as much as I’m willing—only seventy percent positive won’t damage her. Marley is stoic, able and willing to take far too much for the team when it comes to pushing her body.

  “Okay, one more.” Marley taps out, and I carefully withdraw my weapon as she turns towards me, her face bright pink from the effort. She pushes m
e to the couch, and I pretend to fall like a feather. “Your choice, Wyatt.”

  “Come here.” I flick my fingers until she clasps onto them and settles her sexy wet self over my hips. “You on top.”

  “Rumor has it that’s a man’s favorite position.”

  “Rumor has it most women find it too much work.”

  Marley arches her head back and belts out a belly laugh that lets me know I’ve struck a chord. I only said that because I sensed her discomfort last night.

  “No offense, but your technique could use a little improvement,” I say it with a smile and wince because I think I just hit below the belt without meaning to.

  “Oh?” She digs her finger in her cheek looking adorable as hell in the process. “Do tell, Professor James.” Marley extends her body, stretching her arms to the ceiling, and, for a moment, I marvel at how stunningly beautiful she is.

  “Kiss me,” I give it hard like an order, and she looks titillated by this.

  Marley leans in until her soft chest is against mine, her lips where they belong. I maneuver her hips until my body finds its way home.

  “Oh! Like this,” she whispers the epiphany over my lips. “This is much, much, much better.”

  “Just like this.”

  It takes half the time for me to get there, and I try to hold out until Marley can join in on the fun, but I end up at the finish line without her.

  Marley lets out a violent scream that reverberates over the walls, and I’m half afraid Annie and Blake are about to rush through the door with a fire extinguisher again. We have been known to start a blaze or two.

  She forcibly scoots herself off. Her wild hair splays all around. Her eyes burn with an insanity of their own.

  Marley lands her hand to my cheek a little rougher than necessary, and, for a second, I wonder if she’s slapping me. Her chest heaves uncontrollably. Her eyes remain low and heavy.