Wright Rival

by K. A. Linde

  I didn’t push Hollin back. He still had his hands under my skirt, and maybe we could skip the award ceremony.

  “Are you complaining?” he asked.

  Those blue eyes smoldered as he dropped to the ground in front of me. He pressed his mouth hot to my core, and I shuddered.

  “No. No complaints.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  He pushed the skirt of my maroon dress around my hips. The same maroon dress that I hadn’t gotten to wear last year, but I was putting it to good use this year.

  Hollin pulled aside the lace of my thong.

  “We’re going to be late,” I gasped.

  “We’ll make it.”

  “Oh God,” I moaned at the first thrust of his finger inside of me. The second followed almost without hesitation. I gripped one of the bedposts and tried not to ruin my hair as he began to finger-fuck me.

  “Now, isn’t that better?” he asked with a chuckle that brooked no response.

  His mouth returned to my clit and flicked against it until I was screaming into the hotel room. I hoped we didn’t have any neighbors right now. It was hard to sate my desire for Hollin Abbey.

  A year earlier, we’d almost ruined everything. Now, things were better than ever. The sex was somehow better than ever, too.

  Hollin released the buckle on his belt. His fancy suit pants followed, and I was scrambling for his heavy cock, falling to the floor before him. His eyes widened in wonder as I slicked the head of him with my tongue.

  “Fuck, Piper,” he growled. “I want to fuck you.”

  “Let me taste at least,” I teased.

  And how could he argue?

  I jerked him off with one hand as I brought him deep into my mouth. His hands fisted in my hair, holding me in place as I worked to get him deeper. He was so massive that it had taken months for me to get anywhere close to deep-throating him. I still sometimes gagged and had to give up. He never minded because that meant he got to punish me by bending me over his knee. Both of us liked it enough that I always fought to try again the next time. Either I succeeded or I got the spanking I deserved. Win-win.

  I tried to get him all the way this time, but he was impatient. He jerked into my mouth.

  “Babe,” he groaned. “No time.”

  “Now, who’s complaining?”

  He growled something about me being a bad girl, and it went straight to my greedy pussy. Did I want to give this blow job, or did I want him to take it out on my body? Toss-up.

  Finally, he got fed up and withdrew from my lips. “Over the bed.”

  I grinned devilishly. He rammed me forward until my ass was in the air and my pussy was on full display. He tugged my panties all the way down my legs, dropping them to the floor. Then drove deep inside of me.

  I moaned around the sharp pain of him filling me. He was huge, and sometimes, he forgot that I was relatively small. Or maybe he liked the way I squirmed around the pain. I knew that I did.

  “Going to come for me again?” Hollin asked.

  My answering response was to tighten all around his cock as he hammered harder and faster inside of me. I’d been hanging on a thread before, and it all came undone.

  “Fuck,” he spat. Then, he came alongside me, spending himself thoroughly. “That’s my good girl. So fucking good.”

  We both grew still, panting in the hotel room. He withdrew from my body and went to clean up. I followed him, and when I came back, I looked around for my underwear.

  Hollin gave me a shit-eating look. He patted his pocket. “I’m keeping these.”

  “Hollin,” I chided.

  “I want you to be commando under that dress. Makes me think about fingering you under the table.”

  I flushed. “At the award ceremony? In front of all those people?”

  “Who’s going to know?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Everyone?”

  He smirked. “How good is your poker face?”

  I rolled my eyes at him but was thrilled at the thought. It wasn’t the first time I’d gone out without underwear. Just knowing I had on nothing underneath this would make the sex amazing when we got back. It would heat us both up all night long.

  “Fine.”

  We headed down to the award ceremony. I’d missed it last year after pulling Sinclair Cellars out of the running. This year, Hollin and I were in it together. We each had individual wines in the running. Luckily, he was putting forward a chardonnay for Wright Vineyard while Medina Cellars had a new merlot that I hoped would top the category. But together, we’d decided on a whole new blend vintage. A pinot noir mix with grapes from both vineyards that we were calling the Medina-Abbey.

  We’d commandeered an entire table this year. Jordan and Julian were seated with Annie and Jennifer beside them. My dad, mom, Peyton, and Peter took up the rest of the seats. Hollin’s family along with Blaire and a good number of the Wrights had a table farther from the action but hollered as we passed by. We had an entire entourage this year, and I loved it. All of us together.

  “Took you long enough,” Julian said, coming to his feet and shaking Hollin’s hand.

  “Yeah. We had other plans,” Hollin said with that same smile.

  Julian rolled his eyes. “I bet.”

  Jordan shook his hand next. “What do you think is going to happen this year?”

  “I’m going to win,” I told him with a wink.

  Jordan laughed. “We’ll see about that.”

  Hollin tugged me closer and kissed me hard one more time. “I don’t know what’s going to happen,” he admitted. “But it doesn’t matter.”

  “No?”

  “I’ve already won.” He pressed our lips together one more time in front of our entire family and all our friends and the entire Texas wine world. “I’ve got you. What more could I want?”

  My cheeks heated again at those words. “Oh, Hollin, I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  And though we did win Best in Class for our blended wine, the Medina-Abbey vintage, all that mattered was that we had each other.

  The good girl and the reformed bad boy.

  Thank you so much for reading WRIGHT RIVAL! I hope you enjoyed Hollin & Piper’s story as much as I did. Their back and forth plus TOUR BUS SEX was just a crazy fun ride. And there’s more to come!

  Next up is Campbell & Blaire in WRIGHT THAT GOT AWAY. “Campbell Abbey is the lead singer of the biggest band in the universe. He’s also the boy I fell in love with in high school when no one knew my name. Now, I teach girls every day how to love themselves and get over that boy that wronged them. If only I could take my own advice…and not still pine for the Wright that got away.” Turn the page for a sneak peek!

  More Wright on the way:

  Jordan & Annie: Wright with Benefits (OUT NOW!)

  Julian & Jennifer: Serves Me Wright (OUT NOW!)

  Campbell & Blaire: Wright that Got Away

  Nora & Weston: All the Wright Moves

  See where the Wrights started in The Wright Brother, available for FREE! USA Today Bestselling author Jillian Dodd said it was “hotter than a Texas summer.” I’d dated his brother. He didn’t remember and I wished I could forget…

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  Thank you for all of your help in spreading the word, including telling a friend. I greatly appreciate every reader and hope that you will consider leaving a review. Reviews help readers find books that they will enjoy! Please leave a review on your favorite book site.

  TURN THE PAGE TO READ A SNEAK PEEK OF MY NEXT BOOK WRIGHT THAT GOT AWAY…

  Wright That Got Away

  Chapter 1—Blaire

  The number one song in the world was written about me.

  And no one knew but me and the asshole who wrote it.

  The same asshole who was about to sing it right now.

  “Thanks
so much for coming out to Wright Vineyard tonight to celebrate the Best in Class Abbey Vintage,” Campbell Abbey said into the microphone. He was seated on a stool with an acoustic guitar in his lap. His big blue eyes penetrated the dense crowd packed into the barn at his brother’s winery. His dark hair was artfully messy. For once, he’d ditched his signature leather jacket and was in a plain black tee and ripped black jeans. He made rock god look effortless. “Before I go, I have one more song for you.”

  The crowd went wild.

  Including my friends Piper, Jennifer, and Annie. Even my assistant, Honey, was screaming her head off for the lead singer of Cosmere to perform his last song. His most popular song. The one we all knew was coming.

  “This song goes out to every person who has ever felt invisible. To the girl in the back of the class, just trying to get by. To the guy on the bench. To you out there. Every one of you. This is ‘I See the Real You.’ ”

  Somehow, the audience roared even louder as the opening riff drifted through the speakers. Then Campbell closed his eyes, and his honey-smooth voice filled the room. It was a serenade, an anthem, a fucking spell that he cast on every person who heard this song.

  And I’d been ensorcelled first.

  If I closed my eyes, I could remember that night so long ago.

  The nervous butterflies in my stomach as I waited for the tap, tap at my window. Campbell climbing inside my bedroom with his guitar strapped to his back. The quick kisses as we fumbled for one another and the strum of his guitar in the afterglow of his affection. This song brushed across my lips.

  I was the girl he had seen.

  Until I wasn’t.

  “I love this one so much!” Honey yelled over the crowd.

  “Me too,” Annie said. She flipped her red hair, held her hands overhead, and swayed to the music.

  “I third this,” Jennifer agreed. She had her giant camera up to her face and was taking photos of the crowd.

  My best friend, Piper, shot me a look. She didn’t know about what Campbell and I had been through. She was three years older than me, and we hadn’t known each other in high school. We’d become inseparable in college. Even though she, like everyone else, had no idea we’d been together, Piper suspected. She had been dropping subtle hints ever since Campbell had come back to Lubbock to reunite with his family.

  I’d repeated the same thing that I’d been saying since high school—nothing happened.

  It was a lie. A huge fucking lie. But I’d been saying it long enough that I could almost believe it was true. That I’d never met him. That he’d never seen me. That I’d never fallen hopelessly in love. That he hadn’t ruined my entire life.

  The only thing I could believe was one undeniable truth: he’d left.

  The second we’d graduated high school, he’d taken his beat-up truck and driven straight to LA. One big dream propelling him out to the unknown. He’d been determined to succeed. And he had.

  That didn’t mean I had to like it.

  If I heard “I See the Real You” one more time, I was going to scream.

  Blissfully, the final notes of the song faded. Campbell opened his eyes and stared out at the crowd beyond. For a split second, it was as if he saw me again. As if, despite the hundreds of people crammed together in this barn, he found my eyes. Just me.

  Probably every other person in attendance felt the same way. He’d probably done it on purpose. Maybe the music industry had taught him how to make it feel like he was eye-fucking the entire room. He’d always had charisma. That special something that said he couldn’t be ignored. Even before he was that good of a guitar player with scratchy vocals and piss-poor lyrics, he had it. And you couldn’t train anyone in how to have it. You did, or you didn’t. But it had ballooned in the intervening years. He’d taken it from sultry high school heartthrob to the next level of panty-melting rockstar.

  Campbell broke eye contact and shot a smile to his adoring crowd. “Thank you and have a good night.”

  The lights came back up as he disappeared into the small backstage area. Wright Vineyard was the newest addition to the Wright family royalty. The Wrights owned Wright Construction, a Fortune 500 company and one of the largest construction companies in the country. Their cousins, Jordan and Julian, had moved here from Vancouver, and with the help of Hollin Abbey, they had opened the vineyard. Jordan had gotten it on its feet, Julian kept it running, and Hollin did everything else. It sure helped that his brother was famous and could show up every now and again to draw in a crowd.

  Honey swooned next to me. “That was incredible. He gets better every time.”

  “Every time,” Jennifer agreed, dropping her camera around her neck. “Should we go find the guys?”

  “Definitely,” Annie said.

  “Like…backstage?” Honey whispered in awe.

  Honey hadn’t been around when the winery started and Campbell performed. She hadn’t gotten any of the inside scoop yet. She was still too new in our circle.

  It wasn’t weird for the rest of us. Annie was engaged to Jordan. Jennifer and Julian were talking about moving in together. And despite all of our shock, Hollin and Piper were actually happy. They were still at each other’s throats, but I was starting to suspect that it was foreplay.

  “Yeah, like backstage,” Piper said. She nudged Honey. “That way.”

  Honey squeaked. She looked back at me with wide eyes and then followed my friends through the crowd.

  “Do you think I’ll meet Campbell?” Honey asked me. “Do you think…you could introduce me?”

  “Me?” I looked at her to gauge whether or not she suspected the same thing as Piper. “Why me?”

  “Well, you met him at the concert in Dallas. And I just thought…”

  Piper grinned at me. “Weren’t we so lucky to meet him backstage at the Dallas show?”

  I arched an eyebrow. “You were so lucky to see his tour bus.”

  Piper’s cheeks heated. “I sure was.”

  “Oh my God, backstage in Dallas,” Honey breathed. “I couldn’t imagine.”

  “So, Blaire, are you going to introduce Honey or what?”

  She was baiting me. She wanted me to decline. But I was done being freaked out by Campbell. I could do this. It wasn’t a big deal.

  “Sure. I’ll introduce you.”

  Piper’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

  “Why not?”

  “Why not indeed,” Piper muttered under her breath.

  Honey glanced between us, as if just realizing that there was some undercurrent going on. “Is it okay if I meet him? I don’t have to.”

  “It’s fine,” I lied.

  Then we marched backstage.

  The guys had beaten us there, lounging around a table, pouring bourbon straight from the bottle. They were selling the new award-winning wine hand over fist. The last couple years was finally paying off for them. They deserved to be celebrating.

  But there was no Campbell in sight.

  “Hey, where’s Campbell?” Piper asked as she slid onto Hollin’s lap.

  He nuzzled her neck and gestured behind him to the closed door. She swatted at him to stop, but it was half-hearted. She liked when he was handsy.

  “Changing,” he finally got out. “Why?”

  “Blaire’s going to introduce Honey to him.”

  Hollin extracted himself from Piper’s neck to look up at me. A smirk was on his lips. I didn’t want to know what he was going to say.

  So, I brushed right past them, dragging Honey behind me, and raised my fist to knock on the door. But the second I reached the dressing room, the door opened, and I nearly fell forward inside.

  Campbell reached out as swift as a viper and grabbed my waist. “Whoa there.”

  Time froze as we stood, nearly crushed together in that doorframe. The liminal space between two worlds. One in the past, where I had always been allowed past that door, and the present, where I couldn’t imagine speaking to him, let alone having him touch me.


  I cleared my throat and wrenched backward. “That was…unexpected.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t know you were there,” he said, leaning against the doorframe and smiling down at me.

  That was another thing I’d forgotten. He was so impossibly tall. Over six feet. And I’d always been a pixie of a thing. Just brushing five feet tall. I had on heels for the show, but still he towered over me. I swallowed. Fuck. Was this the reason I only wanted to date giant men?

  “Can I…help you?” he finally asked.

  “No. Wait, yes. My assistant wants to meet you.”

  Campbell cocked his head. I hadn’t spoken to him since high school graduation, and now, I was introducing him to someone as if we were friends. Which we were not.

  “I’m just so lucky to have met you at the show in Dallas,” I deadpanned, arching an eye to see if he’d contradict me.

  “So lucky.” His lip quirked at our shared joke.

  “This is Honey,” I said, gesturing to the girl standing behind me.

  Still, he wasn’t famous for nothing. He knew how to handle fans. He turned up the charm to a hundred and looked toward my assistant. “Honey?” he asked. “Is that your real name, or are you just sweet?”

  I tried not to gag at the stupid question.

  Honey proceeded to melt into a puddle of goo at his feet. “It’s just…Honey. My friends all call me Honey.”

  He held out his hand, and they shook. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. You’re a Cosmere fan?”

  “The biggest,” she gushed.

  And then he spent the next fifteen minutes discussing every point of interest with her. It was…genuine. He liked his fans. What guy wouldn’t? But he didn’t treat her like an annoyance he was desperate to be rid of. He was sincere about the entire interaction. It was better than I’d seen from most celebrities.

  As strange as it was, I had some experience with other celebs. I ran a fantastically popular wellness blog, Blaire Blush. I had a few million followers on social media, where I doled out relationship advice, preached body positivity, and helped girls all over the world love themselves. I was sponsored by ethically sourced fashion designers and constantly received boons in the mail from people who wanted my influence. It was exciting and kind of crazy that it had ballooned into this with nothing but a blog and my psychology degree.