Dirty Little Midlife Mess: A Fake Relationship Romantic Comedy (Heart’s Cove Hotties Book 2)

by Lilian Monroe

  When we arrive at Wes’s house, in all its woodland fairytale glory, I cut the engine but make no move to get up. Neither of us moves. Wes’s arms stay wrapped around me, his heart thumping against my back so hard I wonder if he’s thinking the same thing I am—that it would be so, so easy to stumble inside together and take this relationship all the way.

  I spin on his lap, sitting sideways across his thighs, and hook an arm across his shoulders. One of his arms is across my back, curling around my waist. The other is resting over my lap, its weight hot on my thighs. His arms feel safe and warm and so, so comfortable. I don’t want to leave.

  Even when the chill of the air makes my breath puff, I don’t move. His eyes look dark, the color of pine trees at night. And his lips…

  Wes leans in and kisses me. His mouth is warm, soft, needy. With his grip tightening on my waist and my lap, I lean against his chest and part my lips, needing more of him. Needing his tongue to claim me, his mouth to take me. Every day since our first kiss, I’ve been wanting this. I’ve replayed what we did over and over again, but it’s nothing compared to the real thing.

  The hand Wes had on my lap lifts to my cheek, his touch gentle. Reverent. “Simone,” he growls like my name was ripped from his throat.

  “Yeah?” I nip his ear, his neck.

  “I want you so bad.”

  Electricity trips down my spine. He holds me tight and I know that I could die happy in his arms, hearing him rasp those kinds of things in my ear. Knowing what he told me a couple of days ago, though, I pull back and look in his eyes. “But?”

  “Maybe I’ve been an idiot to push you away.”

  I arch an eyebrow. “Maybe?”

  A dark chuckle slips through his lips, the sound making my gut tighten with anticipation. “Fine. I wanted to take things slow because it felt like too much, too fast. I didn’t know if I liked you because we’d been thrown together, but these few days without you…” He leans his forehead against mine. “I missed you.”

  My poor, fragile heart. It doesn’t stand a chance.

  I’ve always been this way. I love easily and quickly. No matter how much snark I dish out, it’s all just to hide how easily I let myself fall.

  When I met Nate, he swept me off my feet. He spoiled me, flattered me, made me feel like a princess. Then the years wore on, and we realized we didn’t have much in common at all. I was bored. I started my online marketing business, thinking Nate would understand. I wanted him to see me as a contributor. As a person. As someone worthy of his respect, not just a wife with a little side business to keep me busy—but I never had his respect. I fell for the lifestyle and the safety and the routine, and I fell for the idea of who I wanted Nate to be. Not who he was. We didn’t build a strong partnership; we just fell into marriage because it’s what we were supposed to do.

  It ended, and neither of us was devastated. It was hard to leave him, of course. There was heartache—but we both bounced back. We both moved on—well, mostly. We stayed civil, and we still sometimes circle around each other wondering if maybe there was something between us all along.

  There isn’t. I know that now with a certainty that reaches deep into my soul. My ex-husband and I will never be what the other needs, and that’s okay.

  Now, as I sit astride Wes’s lap and look in his forest-green eyes, I wonder if I’m being the same fool I was all those years ago. Is he just some strong, sexy man that makes me feel wanted? Is it the idea of him that I like, or the actual man? Am I looking for security and intimacy, and he happens to be the first guy who might be able to provide it? Am I just sick to death of being alone?

  In short—am I making the same mistakes all over again, or do Wes and I actually have something special? With how things started between us, I’m just not sure. It’s been so fast. So confusing.

  But right now, under the moonlight in the silence of the woods, it feels real. It feels special. It feels like it could be the start of a real partnership between adults who know what they want.

  His breath skates over my cheek as my eyelids flutter closed. “I missed you too, Wes.”

  “Stay here tonight.” It’s barely a whisper, but it clangs through me.

  I open my eyes again to see him staring at me, hopeful. All I can do is nod.

  Between crutches, stairs, doors, and a lot of grunting, it takes a few giggling minutes for the two of us to make it upstairs. As soon as I enter the bedroom, I let out a sigh. I turn to see Wes standing by the door, watching me. He makes his way to the bed and sits down, laying his crutches on the floor by his feet. Then, his fingers start working to unbutton his shirt.

  “Here,” I say, closing the distance between us, “let me help.”

  His hands drop to his sides and I work on the buttons. I can feel his gaze on me, hot and hungry, but I keep my attention on the buttons. One by one, they pop open. I pull his shirt from his pants and push it off his shoulders, letting my fingers run over his skin. Warm, hard muscle. Wes lifts his arms and I pull off his undershirt, revealing a broad expanse of chest.

  My fingertips graze his tattoo, the way the whorls and curves paint over his side and pectoral muscle, breath hitching in my throat. Finally, I find the courage to lift my eyes to meet his gaze. In his eyes, I see dark, feral hunger. Need.

  Lust crashes into me, but I try to rein it in. My hands tremble as I take his clothes and lay them across a nearby chair, then walk back to him and let my hands drift down his chest to his belt.

  Wes’s breathing speeds up when my fingers work the buckle open. “You first,” he rasps, reaching for my dress. His hands slide over my hips and he turns me around, reaching up to the center of my back to tug down the long zipper. I hear him inhale, then his hands slide over my shoulder blades to push the fabric off my body. It pools at my feet as I turn.

  Thank goodness I wore decent underthings today. Just a plain, nude bra and lacy boy shorts that don’t leave panty lines, but judging by the feral growl in Wes’s throat, he doesn’t mind their simplicity.

  Wes looks at me, eyes shining. Every woman should have a man look at her like that—like she’s the most incredible being he’s ever seen. My heart stutters, fire blazing through my core. His fingers slide over my hips, tugging me closer.

  I climb on top of him, straddling his legs with mine. He exhales slowly, eyes hooded, letting his hands slide back toward my ass. With my forearms resting on his shoulders, I lean down and kiss him. I don’t think I’ll ever get sick of doing that—of melting every time my mouth connects with his. His lips are soft, and warm, yet demanding. He nips at my bottom lip, his hands squeezing my ass as he pulls me closer.

  Breathless, I kiss him harder. I tug his hair, arch my back, grind against him.

  “Simone,” he rasps, the noise sending a thrill jumping down my spine. Heat pools in my stomach. Lower.

  “Yeah?” I reach down between us and palm the hardness below his belt, exhaling as I feel him. All of him.

  He groans. “I’m sorry.”

  I pull back. “For what?”

  “For pushing you away these past weeks.” His fingers dip below the waistband of my undies, hands sliding onto the bare skin of my ass.

  I shiver at the touch, my lips finding his again.

  When his hands slide up my spine to unclasp my bra—oh, his hands feel like heaven on my skin. The moment my bra is unclasped and thrown across the room, his mouth is on my breast. Splaying one hand on my back, he cups my breast and takes my peaked nipple between his lips. I arch against him, sighing. His teeth graze my breast, gently, gently, but it turns my body molten.

  I tremble, tugging his hair, palming his shaft, feeling like I’ll come apart with nothing more than his mouth on my breast. He moves to the other one, moaning, his thumb brushing over the wet, pebbled nipple he just left behind. With his other hand sliding down my back and pulling at my panties, I slide off him and let them fall to the ground.

  He growls, animalistic, sliding his hands down my thighs. Then, before I
can even yelp, Wes grabs my legs and pulls me on top of him. He falls back, his hands still gripping mine, pulling me higher on the bed. He’s rough, hauling my body up so my knees land on either side of his face, my center close, so close to his mouth. I fall to my hands, looking down at the sight of his face between my thighs.

  A whisper of breath over my most private parts sends my whole body trembling. Then Wes licks me once, closing his eyes. “Finally,” he groans against my clit before sliding his tongue over it, gently, possessively, his hands gripping my thighs so all I can do is kneel on top of him and gasp. He devours me just like that, as I pant, grinding his face, feeling every part of my body slowly coming apart at his touch.

  Moving his mouth lower, Wes slides that tongue—that wicked, beautiful tongue—down to my opening. I gasp when he thrusts it inside me, bucking against him. He holds me down, chuckling, his hands gripping me so tight I know they’ll leave red marks. I don’t care. My arms can’t hold my weight and I fall to my forearms, my back arching, hips grinding, and I come apart.

  Wes doesn’t stop until I stop bucking, until my body is limp, until I push back and roll off him, both of us lying sideways across the bed. His smile is pure male arrogance as his hand slides up my thigh and over my hip. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time. You taste like heaven, Simone.”

  All I can do is blow out a breath, closing my eyes for a moment. The bed dips as he sits up, and I crack an eyelid to see him standing on one foot as he unbuckles his belt. His gaze meets mine, fire flickering in his eyes.

  I curl an arm behind my head and watch him push his pants down, a slit I hadn’t noticed in one pant leg letting him remove the pants over the grey air cast on his foot. His considerable length springs free as he pushes his boxers to the floor, hopping on one foot to take them off.

  “Is your ankle sore?” It’s been nearly six weeks now, so he should be almost ready to put weight on it, but I don’t want to hurt him.

  Wes shrugs. “Don’t worry about my ankle. It’s fine.” He sits on the bed again, pulling himself up to the pillows and patting the space beside him. “Come here.”

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” I say, glancing at the cast.

  His hand curls around his shaft, and a new wave of heat spills into my veins. Seeing that broad hand wrapped around his cock makes everything inside me burn up. He moves his hand up and down once, twice, and before I know it, I’m crawling toward him. Crawling. His eyes turn wicked as he watches me swing my leg across his body, straddling him once more.

  “There are so many ways I want to fuck you, Simone,” he growls. “As soon as this cast is off, I’ll take my time showing you every single one.”

  My body is already craving him again. The ache, the emptiness inside me almost hurts. “Condom?”

  He shifts to the side table, finding a condom in the top drawer. I watch him slide it over his cock, every glorious inch of it. My breaths are barely more than gasps, my whole body bathed in fire. I hadn’t realized just how much I wanted him. How much I needed him.

  But now…

  As I shift my hips on top of him, reaching between us to grip him with one hand as my other hand sweeps over his broad, muscular chest, I realize that I’ve been waiting for this since the first day I stumbled on him in the forest. I’ve dreamed of him. I’ve thought of him with my vibrator, my fingers, my shower head between my legs. I’ve imagined all the ways I want to make him come. I’ve pictured his cock in my mouth, his tongue all over me, his body caging mine in every position imaginable.

  Being on top of him like this, while he watches me through hooded lids like I’m a goddess, makes me feel so sexy and powerful and alive.

  So, when I lower myself on top of him and gasp at the feel of him, I let a smile curl my lips. Better than I imagined, definitely.

  Wes growls, his hands finding my waist, sliding up to my breasts, down to my ass, as if he’s trying to memorize every bit of my body. I open my eyes and lean down to brush my lips against his, rolling my hips to take him deeper. He rewards me with another growl, with a tweak of my nipple with his fingers. Then, he slides his hand up to curl into my hair as he thrusts his tongue into my mouth and bucks his hips toward me.

  I gasp, arching, and then everything becomes a blur of flesh and lips and lust. I forget about the cast, about being gentle. My hips grind and buck as he urges me on, his mouth open in a groan as I lean back, slamming myself on top of him.

  I love the way he watches me move. How his eyes drift down my body to look at where we’re joined. How his hands are soft, reverent, then claiming and rough.

  Being with Wes…it’s magic. It’s better than any sex I’ve ever had, and he only has one fully functional leg. When his hand moves between us and his thumb finds my bud, it only takes me seconds to come apart on top of him. Like lightning striking my body, like every nerve ending screaming at once. Pleasure blows me apart and puts me back together again.

  “That’s it,” Wes growls, his voice doing as much to make my pleasure crest as anything else. “Come on my cock.”

  Dirty words that only make me moan, grinding against him until I feel him tense, a guttural groan rumbling through his throat. Finding his own release, Wes wraps his arms around me and pulls me down on top of him. We’re panting, sweaty, sated.

  His fingers curl into my hair and he tilts my face back, kissing my lips so gently it makes my head spin. I whimper against his lips, then lay my head in the hollow of his shoulder, sighing.

  “Merry Christmas.” I can hear the grin in his voice. “Best. Present. Ever.”

  23

  Simone

  I wake up snuggled in Wes’s arms. This time, instead of quietly slipping out of his hold, I burrow deeper into his arms.

  A rumble goes through his chest as he wraps his arms around me and pulls me close, my back to his front. He nuzzles into the crook between my neck and my shoulder, his breath hot at my nape. His body is warm at my back as we fit together like we were made for each other.

  “You smell like you,” he mumbles in a sleepy voice, inhaling the scent of me deep into his lungs.

  Warmth spreads through me, a smile curling my lips. “Is that a good thing?”

  “It’s a great thing.”

  His hand drifts down my stomach, then lower, and a line of red heat goes through me.

  We don’t get out of bed for a while.

  There’s something different about having breakfast in a quiet house with no one but Wesley and me. When Eli would cook for us, or when Sean and Alina would be on just the other side of the wall, there was always…distance. Now, though, Wes hobbles behind me when I’m making coffee and wraps his arms around my waist. He smooths his hands down my hips, over my thighs, as if he can’t resist touching me, can’t stay away from me for long.

  We enjoy the weak winter sun as it streams through the living room windows, sipping our coffees. I prop one foot on Wes’s thigh as if I, too, need some point of connection to him. He keeps his palm over my ankle, his thumb making slow circles over my skin.

  Yes, I could get used to this.

  We spend the day together, lazy, enjoying the warmth of the house while the weather stays cool outside. I haven’t had holidays like this in a long while. Days where I just feel peaceful, where there’s no hidden feeling deep in my heart that I’m missing something in my life.

  The next day is much the same. I do a run into town to get some groceries and fresh clothes, but I end up back at Wes’s place. Food, sex, laughter, and lots of cuddling.

  By the time the new year comes along, I’ve spent hardly a moment away from Wes. I’ve done a bit of work, but mostly I’ve just enjoyed how it feels to have somewhere that seems like home. When I met Wes last summer, I never would have imagined that six or so months later, he’d be my New Year’s kiss. Now, though, when we ring in the New Year from the comfort of his sofa, looking at each other as the countdown on the television strikes midnight, I couldn’t imagine anything different.

&
nbsp; How could it be less than two months since this little bargain started? I’ve been waiting, stumbling through the dark looking for him for decades, and now that I’ve found him, my entire past shrinks to nothing. Life is perfect with him in it.

  In the first week of January his cast comes off, and I grin as he takes his first wobbly steps. A predatory gleam shines in his eyes, and I know he’s thinking of all the things we’ll be able to do now that he has the full use of his body.

  We barely make it through the front door when we get back from the doctor’s office. Our shoes and coats fall from our bodies one by one, leaving a trail behind us. Then Wes cages me against the living room wall at the foot of the stairs. He inhales the scent of me, his nose running up my neck as a groan rumbles through his chest. I close my eyes and sigh, my whole body tightening when he takes my hands and pins them by my head.

  I never thought sex could be like this. So…intense. With rough movements, Wes pushes my pants down before pressing his body against mine. I fumble with the fly of his pants, reaching in to feel him. Feeling like I’ll die if I don’t.

  Then he’s hooking my leg around his waist and fucking me up against the wall. Feral, wild, with no sounds but our gasps and grunts and moans.

  When we fall apart, I cling to the bannister of the stairs and let out a sigh. “You know, I doubted it before, but maybe healthy ankles are necessary for sex.”

  He grins. “I’m only getting started.”

  As the weeks go by, I pick up a couple clients for my online marketing business, and even convince Agnes to let me set up some social media pages for her. She was impressed with my idea to set up a display in the café, and even though I’m friendly with the twins she can’t stand, I seem to have entered her good graces.

  Slightly terrifying to work with her, but I’ll take any client I can get.

  Things are…good. Really good.