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Mail Ordered Bride

Page 6

by Tory Baker


  I walk into the tent. From the moonlight shining through the opened flap, I see a bundle in the far corner of the sleeping pad I made. Carly is buried under that pile somewhere, and I feel guilt. She probably cried herself to sleep. That’s on me. Regardless of what’s going on between us, I vowed to never hurt her and I did.

  I kick off my boots and trip over a bag. I frown. I didn’t leave my bag there. Why would Carly go through it? I grab it and I want to put it beside hers, but I can’t find it. I turn on the lantern on the floor and instantly the tent is bathed with light. Carly doesn’t make a move—or a sound. That’s my first concern, but the bigger one is that Carly’s bag is gone and what’s more… her boots are gone too. I left them by the front of the bed to try them on her tomorrow and they’re gone.

  Panic begins to fill me. I walk to the wadded bundle and pull the sleep bag back and… all that’s there is a pillow. Carly’s gone. It’s dark. I don’t know how long she’s been gone and I have no idea if she could even make it to the bottom of the mountain on her own.

  I scream, without thought, then I grab the lantern and take off down the hill, not worrying about my shit. I have to get to Carly before something happens to her. I don’t even want to think about what will happen if a bear or something crosses her path.

  Fuck.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Carly

  “I hate him,” I grumble.

  I sat in that damn tent for over thirty minutes and I had enough. I get he’s pissed and I’m not even saying he doesn’t have a right, but what kind of asshole leaves an injured woman alone in a tent? In hindsight, maybe I should have thought through my options a little more, but I was mad and I just wanted away. I put on my boots, and honestly, with his thick socks they don’t hurt as much as they did. I rifled through his bag and found his truck keys. He’s been such an ass it serves him right that I’m stealing his truck. Borrowing. There’s no theft. I will drive it to his house, pack my shit and then borrow it again to go to the airport. He can pick it up there.

  I ignore the fact that there’s not really an airport and that essentially I’m driving to a guy named Big Kenny who is just as tall as Stone, but probably weighs over four hundred pounds and has the only plane around. I ignore it because I hate flying on small freaking planes and I’ll have to—and that’s Stone’s fault too.

  “I hate him,” I repeat, and I know I’m talking to myself. It’s probably a mixture of anger and panic. It’s starting to get dark and the only light I have is a damn flashlight app on my cellphone. A cellphone which has zero signal and a dying battery. It’s barely dusk now, so I’m trying to only use the light here and there, but this damn mountain is treacherous, so I’m afraid to misstep.

  “What kind of man takes his new wife on a hike up a freaking mountain for a honeymoon?” I ask the universe. “How is that even remotely romantic? What happened to five star hotels—or even a three! What happened to wine and chocolate and rose petals on the bed? I gave him my virginity, damn it! I deserve rose petals on the bed! I deserve it and I don’t even like rose petals!”

  That last is yelled out in anger as I make it down the last of this damn mountain. The way I figure it, I’m at least another thirty minutes from the truck. That’s not a lot, but right now I’m completely exhausted, my feet hurt like hell and I’m hungry.

  Maybe I should have tried some of that damn dried cow.

  I find a rock to sit on, internally feeding my anger at Stone. If I don’t do that I’ll get sad and… I’ll cry. I can’t cry over Stone—not right now. If I do that, I may never stop. Because inside it already feels like there’s a part of me missing. That’s silly, I guess. Have I been here long enough to fall in love? I feel those tears try to gather in my eyes and I wipe them away before they have time to fall.

  “I will not love you, Stone Matthews!” I vow out loud. There’s no one to hear me but myself and birds, really. But the universe needs to know it. “I won’t love you. I won’t miss you when I leave this place and I sure as hell won’t cry over you!” I growl, getting up to walk to the truck and ignoring the fact that the tears are back and they’re falling now. “Why would I cry over an asshole who accused me of lying? Okay, so I lied! But I didn’t know I was lying! That has to count! If I knew men like Stone existed, if I thought for one minute I would have found him on the freaking internet I would have written him before Tally! I would have…”

  “What would you have done, Carly?”

  I scream. Only not at Stone, really, who just happens to step out of the darkness, but at the fact he just scared the hell out of me.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to find my bride.”

  “You’ve came to the wrong place! I’m not your bride! I’m the big fat liar you left to die in the wilderness!” I mutter, and I turn away from him and keep walking in the direction of the truck. I may not like hiking, but I do happen to have an excellent memory and sense of direction.

  Stone doesn’t let me get a few steps away from him and then he picks me up and slings me over his shoulder.

  “What are you doing? You let me down right now, or I’ll have you arrested for kidnapping!”

  “I’m carrying my bride to the truck. Then I’m taking her home.”

  I think over his words, and I decide to shut up. I’m okay with him taking me home. I can leave once I get there.

  “Fine, but when we get there I’m leaving!”

  “No, you’re not,” he argues.

  “I am! And if you try to stop me I’ll—”

  “What are you going to do, Carly?”

  “I’ll have you arrested for assault.”

  “But I didn’t assault you, baby,” he says and I ignore the fact he used an endearment on me. He’s an asshole—an asshole who left me alone in a tent, on top of a freaking mountain.

  “You did! You hurt me and I’m leaving.”

  “Where did I hurt you, Carly?” he asks, carefully standing me up on the ground.

  His hand comes to brush against the side of my neck and he more or less demands I look up into his eyes.

  “Stone—” I start, my voice almost as raw as my heart feels.

  “Where did I hurt you, baby?” he asks and it’s then I notice he’s not angry—not like before. The old Stone is back and seeing him hurts me even more, because he’s not mine and I can’t keep him. I really want to keep him.

  I really do.

  “My heart,” I tell him, quietly, closing my eyes. “You hurt my heart.”

  He picks me up and this time cradles me to him.

  “I’ll make it better,” he whispers and kisses the top of my head.

  I’m scared to ask him what that means, but I don’t talk again. I’m silent all the way to the truck and then all the way to the house.

  I’m afraid to talk. I’m afraid if I do, I might beg him to love me—because I’m pretty sure I already love him.

  Chapter Twenty

  Stone

  I was mad as hell coming down the mountain. I had it in my mind that if I found Carly and she was okay I was going to spank her ass for putting herself in danger.

  Then I heard her talking—screaming really. She was vowing not to love me and I found myself smiling. It felt like a challenge, a gauntlet she was throwing down to dare me. I want to make her love me. I want her love. Hers. Not some picture and personality I met over the internet. But the woman who has been in my bed. The woman who gave me her virginity and the woman who makes me laugh and drives me crazy all at the same time. It doesn’t matter what led Carly to my doorstep. What really matters is that she’s here and she’s more than I ever dreamed.

  She hasn’t spoken since I carried her to the truck, not when she gave me the truck key, nor on the way home. There’s been nothing but silence. I carry her to the front door and brace her against the outside wall of the house while I fish for my house keys, and there’s still silence.

  I carry her straight to the bedroom, leaving her alone lo
ng enough to start the shower.

  “If I take a shower, I’m only doing it because I feel dirty. I’m going to need a ride to Big Kenny’s tonight,” she says, her voice still sounding lost.

  It figures when she talked, it would be to give me lip. I ignore her words. There’s no way I’m taking her to Kenny’s. The bastard likes her. Hell, he’ll probably try to keep her. Besides that, I’m not letting her go.

  Once I get the water set to the right temperature, I go back to the bed and start working on Carly’s boots. She doesn’t pull away from me as I take them off. She just lays there staring up at the ceiling, looking lost. I pull my socks off of her feet next, and all things considered, they don’t look as bad as I thought they would. I pull her up in my arms off the bed, and she comes easily. I whisk her shirt over her head and that wakes her up.

  “You need to leave,” she mutters, her arm covering her bra.

  “I’m going to help my wife get in the shower.”

  “You don’t have a wife,” she argues, slapping my hand away when I try to undo the button on her jeans.

  “But I do. I’m looking at the stubborn woman now,” I answer, looking right at her.

  “No I’m not. I’m the liar you left alone in a tent,” she growls, letting me know she’s not ready to forgive or forget. It should piss me off that she’s acting like the wounded party here, but it doesn’t, and for some reason that even makes me smile. I’ve heard the boys at work talk about being pussy-whipped by their wives—I’ve made fun of them for it and now… fuck if I don’t think I am too.

  “I’m trying to make that up to you. If you’d just let me get you in the shower.”

  “How can you make up the fact that I lied to you and you hate me?” she sighs, but she lets me undo her pants and slide those and her panties down her body. I kiss her legs as I go, loving the taste of her skin, even when she’s mad.

  “I don’t have rose petals, but I’m willing to try the romance part,” I tell her, and I let my hand span her hips, bringing her body close to my face and kissing her stomach.

  “You heard me?” she says, barely loud enough to be heard.

  “I heard you and took notes,” I tell her.

  “Notes?”

  “Romance. Five star hotels—”

  “I didn’t—”

  “Or even three, which is probably more likely here, but someday soon I’ll take you into Juneau for a relaxing vacation.”

  “You will?”

  “Turn around for me, Carly,” I tell her, still smiling at the shell-shocked look on her face. Surprisingly, she does it and I unlatch her bra. She catches it and holds it to her body and I smile at the action. I’ve loved every inch of this body and yet she’s still shy with me. I wonder if she’ll be like that even after we have kids.

  A vision of Carly, pregnant, her stomach tight with our child, comes to my mind and I find I definitely want that.

  “I don’t have rose petals,” I tell her, letting my hand move down her back, stroking her skin gently. “I’m not sure on the chocolate, but I do have wine,” I tell her, my hands going to cup her ass. I kiss it gently, kneading the tender skin with my teeth and nipping it. I pull away to see the pink indention on the skin in the shape of my teeth and it goes straight to my cock.

  “You don’t want me here.”

  “I do,” I tell her, sliding my fingers between the cheeks of her ass. “I definitely want you here, Carly,” I groan as the tips of my fingers move through to her pussy. She’s so fucking wet. So wet, and all for me.

  “I’m a liar,” she says, again stubbornly.

  “Maybe you should tell me everything you lied about and we can start again,” I tell her, letting my fingers brush against her clit while I continue kissing and nibbling on her ass.

  “What?”

  “Tell me what else you lied about, Carly.”

  “I hate hiking,” she says.

  “I kind of figured that one out, baby.” I laugh, lifting my arm to pull her bra away and squeeze one of her tits while I continue to play with her pussy.

  “I’ve never seen the Grand Canyon, though I guess I’ve always wanted to,” she mutters.

  “We’ll have to plan a trip,” I tell her, letting my fingers drift down her swollen clit to her entrance. “What else, Carly?”

  “I… I’m not sure… I thought I was going to shower?” she asks, as I push two of my fingers inside her pussy. The hungry little cunt tightens on my fingers instantly, clamping down on it and trying to pull them deeper inside of her.

  Yeah. I’m never letting her go. Never.

  I fuck her with my fingers, her pussy so wet her juices are dripping. She whimpers and her nipple is so hard, it’s stabbing against my palm.

  “What was that, baby?”

  “We shouldn’t be doing this,” she says, gasping when I pinch her nipple and twist it.

  “Why shouldn’t we?”

  “Because… I’m leaving.”

  “I’m not letting you go, Carly.”

  “You’re not?”

  “No, baby. We’re married.”

  “We could get a divorce… What are you doing?” she asks, and I grin. I have two fingers inside her pussy, but I’ve stretched my thumb to push against the tiny entrance in her ass.

  “I’m playing with your ass. Do you like it, baby?”

  “I… I’ve never… No one has ever… Oh God,” she moans, as I move my hand so I can push through the tight little valley of muscles in her ass. My hand leaves her breast so I can continue torturing her clit, while I finger-fuck her ass.

  “That’s good, Carly, because this is my ass now. I’m the only one who will ever get to fuck it, aren’t I, Carly?”

  “You… you want to fuck me… there?”

  “I’m going to fuck you everywhere, Carly, and in any way possible. Do you know why?”

  “Why?” she breathes.

  “Because I can and because you like it. Don’t you?”

  “I…”

  “Say it, Carly,” I growl, my cock so fucking hard I’m dying. I wanted to be soft and romantic with her, but I can’t. I’ve got to have her.

  Now.

  “I like it,” she whispers. I take my hands away from her and she turns to look at me. Her eyes are dark with hunger.

  “On the bed, Carly. Get on your hands and knees.”

  “I…”

  “Don’t argue with me, baby. Get on the bed.”

  “I’m not on birth control, Stone,” she confesses, looking over her shoulder at me. I wouldn’t have thought my dick could get any harder.

  I was wrong.

  “Good. Now get on the bed, before I fuck you just like this,” I tell her, already standing up behind her.

  She gets on the bed, settling on her hands and knees. She looks back at me just as I push my pants down. I don’t have it in me to take them all the way off. I need in her now. I hold my shaft tightly, raking it through the juices on her pussy and teasing her clit.

  “You’re not going anywhere, Carly. You belong here, with me,” I tell her as she rocks against my cock, trying to pull it where she wants, but I don’t let that happen.

  “Stone,” she cries and I don’t know if it’s because of what I’m telling her or the fact that I keep teasing her already primed pussy with my cock.

  “I wanted to give you slow and easy, baby. But I can’t right now. This is going to go hard and fast, but I promise to make it up to you later and give you romance.”

  “Just hurry,” she whimpers.

  “Reach down and play with your clit, honey. Touch yourself for me.”

  I watch as she does exactly what I say. My eyes are glued to her fingers, moving over her clit and her body rocking into it as she begins to build her own orgasm. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anything more beautiful, but I can’t admire it long. I’m about to go off myself, and when I do I want inside of her.

  I pull my shaft back until it’s primed at her entrance, my hands grab her hips and then I
push inside, not stopping until I’m balls deep. All thought of going easy with her is gone. She’ll take me like this, because she needs this as much as I do.

  I grunt and just hold myself like this: deep in her depths, the muscles of her pussy clenching on my shaft and her body trying to fight free of my hold so she can ride me.

  It’s fucking heaven.

  “Stone, honey. Please move,” Carly urges, still teasing her clit faster and faster in hopes of getting where she wants on her own. No chance of that. When this pussy comes it will be because I make it.

  “You’re not going anywhere, Carly. Say it. I want to hear the fucking words,” I growl, pulling out of her—only to slam straight back in.

  “I’m not… Oh God, honey. I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying right here with you, Stone,” she murmurs, her head down while I begin fucking her in earnest. I ride her body hard, slamming into her so deep that she can probably taste me. She doesn’t complain. Her head is thrown back and I can feel her pussy grabbing my dick, needing to come so bad her body is thrusting back to meet me with each withdraw. “I’m close, Stone. I’m so close,” she whimpers.

  “Come for me, Carly. Come for me,” I growl because I can feel my own climax. My balls are tight and I know when I unload inside of her, I’m going to fill her full.

  “Yes…” she cries and just like that she goes over the edge, her orgasm shattering and her body contorting in the most beautiful shape I’ve ever seen. Her back bowed, her head back and her entire body trembling. Her pussy has clamped down so tight on my cock, milking it, that I lose it just a moment later, following her.

  Chapter Twenty-One

 

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