Wicked Reunion (Wicked White Series Book 2)

by Michelle A. Valentine

  His kind words remind me of why I fell for him and only make me cry harder. I cover my face with my hands. “I’m so sorry, Wes. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I’m an awful human being.”

  Wes leans in and wraps his arms around me, allowing the sweet scent of his cologne to envelop me. “Shhh. Don’t say that. You can’t help who you love or what your heart chooses to hold on to. Who knows? Maybe when you’re ready, we can try this again.”

  I cling to him as I cry because I know how much I’ve hurt him. I don’t deserve his kindness, I know that, but I’m grateful for it.

  He holds me against him and allows me to get everything out of my system, and once I’m able to pull myself together from hysterically sobbing, he leans back so he can stare into my eyes. “Are you going to be all right by yourself tonight? I can call someone. My mom—Sam, maybe?”

  I shake my head. “She’s got her hands full with Brody, and I don’t want to bog her down even more with my issues. Your mother—I can’t even fathom facing her right now. She’ll hate me for this.”

  “No, she won’t. Mom loves you.” He reaches toward my face but then stops himself from touching my cheek before sighing heavily. “I wish you would’ve let me in. All I’ve ever wanted to do is love you, and for you to love me back.”

  I bite my bottom lip, and it takes every inch of my willpower to not burst into tears again. I can’t respond. If I open my mouth to answer that, I won’t be able to pretend that I’m keeping it all together, because I’m an absolute, confused mess.

  If I could let Wes in, things in my life would be so much easier, but I just can’t. I should’ve realized from the start that loving him would be impossible.

  Wes pushes himself up and stands before me, a frown etched on his face. “I feel terrible leaving you like this. It’s hard for me to watch you cry. I’ve never been able to take seeing you sad.”

  I sniff, not wanting to burden him any more than I already have. I want him to be able to walk out the door without a guilty conscience, because this is my fault—my problem—not his. “I’ll be okay. I promise.”

  Wes sighs again, like it’s the only thing he can do, because his heart is so heavy, and awkwardness eats up every inch of the room. It’s hard to tell someone who you love that you’re not in love with them—at least not in the way they want you to love them. If I’m being honest, I’m not really sure I ever loved Wes as anything more than a friend, and that makes me a horribly selfish person. It’s so hard to push away such a nice guy, but I know he deserves better than what I’ve been giving him in this marriage. He deserves to be loved in a way that I’m not capable of.

  The moment Wes steps around the side of the bed and grabs the handle of the suitcase, he glances back at me as if to give me one more chance to stop him from walking out my door and changing the dynamic between us forever, but I remain still as stone in my seat.

  My lips pull in a tight line, and the skin on the bridge of my nose pinches together as I wrinkle my face and refuse to allow any emotion to escape and expose how torn up I am. Wes frowns when he realizes that I’m not going to beg him to stay, and he picks up the bag and walks out of the room.

  The moment the front door closes, I release the sob I kept stuffed down in my chest. Instantly I know the security bubble that Wes created for me, the one that masked all the pain I’ve been dealing with for the past five years, is gone for good.

  THEN

  JARED

  The wind whips through my hair as I drive down Main Street at one in the morning. I stick my hand out the open window, allowing the cool night air to flow through my fingers. Things couldn’t be more perfect. Everything in my life is lining up, and it feels amazing.

  Most people say I live a blessed life, and I can’t argue otherwise. I’m starting pitcher at the University of Tennessee in my hometown of Knoxville, I have a damn near perfect family, and most importantly, the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen belongs to me. When you consider my personal life, and add in the fact that my team has just won their fourth straight game and the pro scouts are swarming around me like crazy, I don’t think a luckier man has ever walked this earth. I’ve got everything going for me.

  I glance down at London, who is curled up on the bench seat next to me in the truck. Her pouty pink lips are partially open, and her eyelids are closed over her green eyes. Soft brown curls cascade around me, tickling my arm as she rests her head on my shoulder. The rhythmic rise and fall of her chest tells me that she’s fast asleep. I love that she’s so comfortable with me, knowing that I’ll always be there, protecting her, just like I have been since we were kids. The fruity scent of her shampoo mixed with her perfume comforts me as I drive us home. London has been the one constant in my life since she saw me and my brother playing ball in the middle of the street and demanded that we let her play. Even though we were only in middle school, it didn’t take long for me to fall in love with the cute brunette girl who loved baseball as much as me. Next to London, the only other people that matter to me are my mom and dad, along with my brother, Wes. Those four mean everything to me.

  I turn into the subdivision that London and I grew up in. It’s nothing extravagant. Older, split-level homes built in the early eighties line the streets, and the moment I turn down our street, a warm feeling of ease comes over me. This place—this town—fits us, and the thought of leaving here when I turn pro scares me a bit, but I know it’s a place that I can always come back to. Besides, I’m sure anywhere with London will feel like home.

  I pull up in front of London’s little brown house, throw the transmission into park, and nudge her. “Wake up, sleepy. You’re home.”

  She rolls her shoulders and stretches before snaking her arms around my neck, pressing her body against me. “I can’t wait until we get our own place. I hate spending a night without you.”

  “Soon.” I pull her in tighter against my body and kiss the tip of her nose. “We’re almost done with school. Everything is falling into place with our plan, and we’ll be on to phase two before you know it.”

  “Ah. Phase two. Remind me what that one is again?” She gives me a mischievous grin, knowing exactly what it is. London loves making me repeat it to her every chance she gets.

  “Let’s see . . .” I drift off, playing along. “I think phase two involved getting a dog.”

  “Right after . . .” she prompts and raises her eyebrows expectantly.

  “Right after—” I cut myself off, feeling for some reason it’s the absolute perfect time to spring a surprise on her. I lean over and reach into the glove box of the truck and pull out a little black velvet box that I’ve been carrying around for over a week, waiting for just the right moment to ask London to make things very official with me.

  London’s green eyes widen at the sight of the little box that gives away the one question I want to ask her—the one question that will bond us together forever. Her lips gape open, and she instantly covers them with both hands.

  “Jared? Oh my God. Is that? Are you . . . Is that what I think it is?” she asks behind muffling fingers, trying to hold in her excitement.

  I laugh when I hear her use my real name, which she usually reserves for when I piss her off and she wants my full attention. This is obviously serious business.

  I bite my bottom lip as I open the tiny box and show her the modest diamond ring inside. “It’s not much, I know, and I want you to know that I plan on replacing it when I’m able.”

  She wraps her fingers around my wrists. “It’s perfect. The ring doesn’t matter. All that matters is that I have you.”

  “You’ll always have me,” I reply instantly, without another thought. My eyes flick down to her kissable mouth. I find myself unable to resist the temptation, so I lean in and press my lips against hers. She opens her mouth and admits my begging tongue. I cup her face and allow myself to revel in the moment before I pull back and stare deeply into her eyes. This woman is absolutely stunning, and I can’t imagine that a more pe
rfect person exists for me on this planet. “Will you marry me, London?”

  She traces her fingers along my jawline, never breaking eye contact. “Of course I will.”

  “Yeah?” I laugh as I pull out the ring with shaky hands and then slide it onto her ring finger.

  I don’t ever remember feeling this happy and complete. Marrying London—officially making her mine—will be the best day of my life.

  Her eyes brighten as a huge grin stretches across her face. “Was there ever any doubt? Marrying you has been my dream since I was twelve years old.”

  We both stare at the ring on her hand and all the promises to each other that it holds. I grasp her hand in mine and then kiss the ring as it sits on her finger. London might not realize it, but marrying her has been my dream for a very long time too. People always question me, especially other guys, on how I can be so sure that London is the right girl for me since she’s the only one I’ve ever been with, and to that, my answer is simple: when you find your soul mate, you just know. Nothing else in the world matters but her, and no other woman on the planet can even compare.

  This is right. Being with her is so easy, and I know it’s the reason that I’m on this planet.

  I cradle her face in my hands. “I love you, London. So much.”

  She blinks slowly, her incredibly long eyelashes fluttering as she smiles. “I love you too.”

  I lean in and press my lips to hers. The softness of her warm mouth against mine instantly turns me on, and a need to taste her pulses through me. I thread my fingers into her hair and flick my tongue against her lower lip, begging for entrance. When she obliges, I deepen our kiss and then grab her hips and hoist her onto my lap so she’s straddling me with her back against the steering wheel.

  My fingers dip under her T-shirt, and they trace the smooth skin just above the waistband of her jeans. This girl drives me out of my fucking mind with desire every time she comes within two feet of me. It doesn’t matter that we’ve been together for years, because every time is just as exciting as the first. If anything, we get better every time we explore one another’s bodies.

  London rolls her hips against mine, and a moan slips out of her lips as she pushes herself against my hard cock inside my jeans. She always gets so turned on when she can feel how much I want her.

  “Can we go somewhere?” she asks in a breathy voice as she continues to rock her hips and kiss me over and over.

  As if of their own accord, my hands slide down her back and cup her ass. “Where do you have in mind?”

  “Anywhere,” she answers. “I just need to be with you.”

  Who am I to argue with a beautiful woman who is in desperate need of me?

  The denim material of her shorts rides up her thighs, baring even more of her soft skin. My girl is fucking beautiful. Everything about her, I’m in love with it. Every move she makes turns me on, and I seize every opportunity I can to be inside her.

  I cup her face in my hands and stare into her green eyes. “I love you, London.”

  “I love you too,” she whispers back.

  My fingers slide down her neck and across her exposed shoulders, only getting caught up a bit on her bra and tank top straps. I hook my index finger around the straps and slide them down, exposing the tops of her breasts. A pink, lacey bra covers her nipples, but my fingertips are able to trace the tops of the smooth, mounded flesh. My cock jerks inside my jeans, and if I don’t have her soon, I might just fucking come in my pants.

  London smiles because she can feel how turned on I am. She leans in and presses her lips to mine, allowing her dark hair to fall around us like a curtain. The sweet scent of her shampoo wafts around me, and I inhale it deeply.

  I fucking love this woman so much that it physically hurts sometimes. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her, because she’s my entire world.

  I wrap my arms around her before crushing my lips to hers. Her mouth opens for me, and I plunge my tongue into her mouth. My hand runs up her back and then threads into her thick hair as she works her hips against me. A soft moan tells me that she’s just as fucking turned on as I am.

  “God, Jared. I want you.” She tosses her head back and I drag my lips down her neck. “Right here. Right now.”

  That’s the only thing she needs to say to have me revved up and ready to take her. I yank the buttons of her shorts open but leave her top on, because we’re still parked on the street.

  London rises up, making it easier for me to pull her shorts and panties off before I run my finger against her swollen clit. I work her into a frenzy and stare at her in awe as she leans back against the steering wheel to watch me pleasure her. The only thing that’s rattling around in my brain is how I never want to lose this—how I always want London to be mine.

  I slip my finger inside her. “So fucking wet. You are always so ready for me.”

  She bites her bottom lip. “That’s because I always want you. Speaking of . . .”

  London trails off as she quickly works at freeing my cock from my jeans, and once it springs free, she wraps her hand around the base and guides it into her entrance.

  I fucking love when she takes control. Nothing is sexier than when she does that.

  She drops her forehead down against mine and places a featherlight kiss on my lips.

  Her wet tongue darts out from behind her teeth, and she licks her lips as she sits down and takes all of me inside her. My body shudders from pure delight when she quickens her pace of sliding up and down on my shaft. “Damn, you always feel so fucking amazing.”

  My fingers dig into her hips as I pump into her faster and harder, causing her let to out a moan.

  “Oh, God. I’m coming,” she cries out before she falls apart around me.

  My mouth hangs open as I lock eyes with her, and warmth spreads over every inch of my body. I’m so close, but I don’t want this to end so soon. Ever since we started fucking without condoms when she got on birth control, I can never last as long. The sensation of her wrapped around me just feels too fucking good.

  I close my eyes and slip into sweet oblivion as I come hard inside the woman that I love.

  After we’re dressed, I pull London back into my lap and run my fingers through her soft brown curls. I can’t wait until we have our own place someday and we can lie like this all night instead of hiding out in my truck to have sex.

  A chill from the early spring air fills the cab, so I reach behind her and fumble around until I find the key to the ignition to get some heat going. But before I can crank the engine to life, a loud knock on the passenger-side window startles me.

  London gasps and jerks her head toward the sound. “Shit. Jesus, Wes. You scared the hell out of me.”

  I laugh as she scolds my older brother and then crawls off my lap and over to the passenger side to crank open the window.

  The moment London rolls the window all the way down, Wes leans into the cab of the truck with a wicked smile on his face. “You guys do realize that Old Man Jenkins is watching you, right? The two of you are giving him one hell of a show. This is the most action he’s seen in a long time.”

  I glance over at the house across the street just in time to see the curtains shake as they’re dropped back into place. “Dirty pervert needs to get laid, bad.”

  Wes nods in agreement, causing a strand of blond hair to flop over one eye. He quickly pushes it away. “He does, but until then I think he’s going to continue watching every move London makes like a creeper, so I thought I’d give you guys a heads-up.”

  “Thanks, Wes,” London says, and I notice her face is a deep shade of red. “I’m so mortified.”

  His eyes soften as he stares down at her. “No problem. Besides, don’t sweat it too bad. I’m sure the old guy didn’t see much.”

  My brow furrows the moment I catch my older brother staring at my girl just a few seconds too long for my comfort. When his eyes snap up in my direction, there’s a flash of some unreadable emotion in them, but he quickly
avoids my stare and shoves himself away from the truck.

  “I’ll see you around, London,” he calls over his shoulder as he stalks off in the direction of our house, which is a block away.

  I watch him walk down the sidewalk into the darkness of the night. Wes’s hands are shoved deep in his pockets, and his shoulders slump inward, which in the past has always been a sure sign that he’s uncomfortable. It’s been his go-to move since we were kids, and I’ve seen it a million times, but for the life of me I can’t figure out why he would be acting that way right now. Maybe he’s embarrassed I just caught him looking at London, but it’s not like it’s the first time I’ve ever caught him doing that.

  I’m pretty sure my brother has always had a thing for my girl, but he knows better than to ever act on it. For one, he knows that London is not interested, and two, he knows that just because he’s a year older doesn’t mean that I’m not capable of kicking his ass. All the time in the gym has served me well. Wes, while athletic, tends to spend most of his time nowadays studying. He’s going to be an engineer, and his course load is crazy. He’s definitely more of the brain in the family, where I am more of the brawn, but I’m not a dummy when it comes to books either. I just chose something a little easier as far as school goes. A business degree will serve me well when I’m negotiating deals when I go pro next year. I have the feeling I’ll be reading over a lot of contracts.

  “It was lucky Wes let us know about our audience. I was just about to rip off your clothes again and maul you here in the front seat in front of God and, well, everyone else who was watching,” London teases and then sighs as she glances at the clock on the dashboard. “I should probably head in anyhow. It’s late.”

  “Okay, babe. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I lean over and give her a quick kiss. “Do me a favor and keep the ring between you and me until I have a chance to tell Mom about it. I want to tell them both at the same time when Dad makes his weekly call home on Sunday.”