by C. M. Owens
Before I know it, her lips are dragging across my chest, nipping and biting as she assaults me in her sleep. My name comes out in a rasp moan from her lips as she rocks against me harder, and I bite back a groan when my cock tries to explode.
***
ALLIE
Wren’s body is greedy as he pushes into me over and over, and his mouth is hungry and demanding, owning everything I can give him. But he pulls out, teasing me as he backs away with his glorious body. I arch my hips in submission as he binds me and does whatever he wants while wearing his mask over his eyes.
He taunts me with dark promises, using my name to punctuate each dirty phrase, and pushes me up onto my knees. He pops the side of ass with a black leather riding crop. After he bends and runs his tongue over the stinging mark, he pounds into me once again, and my world explodes around him, shattering me into oblivion.
His name comes out in a prayer-like praise, and my whole body goes limp as pleasure racks through my every nerve.
I smile when my eyes flutter open, but then my eyes widen in horror when I see a blushing Wren under me, doing all he can not to laugh. I take in the fact I’m straddling his leg very firmly, and there’s no doubt that I just had a very real and very loud orgasm.
“OhmyGod,” I say in a rush, trying to dive off of him, but tumbling to the floor like an ungraceful idiot instead, landing on my hands and knees… just like my dream.
I. Could. Die.
He laughs while rising up, shifting when his very large bulge comes into view.
“You… I… Did I… on you?” I stammer, my voice a shrill and annoying pitch.
His laughter grows louder as he uses his hand to adjust himself in his jeans. Why did I have to see that?
“Yes you did—on my leg, actually. Must have been one hell of a dream,” he teases, arching one eyebrow to accentuate his amusement.
I lurch toward the bathroom, scrambling there on my hands and knees, and slam the door. It takes me a while to stand when I start shaking with humiliation. I just… Oh damn. I just used real Wren’s leg as a surrogate for dream Wren’s big, glorious, hard—
“Allie, open up,” real Wren says through his chuckles. “Please. Don’t let this be weird. I was trying to wake you up before you… well, before you came, but I think saying your name only made it worse.”
Oh no. No. No. No! This can’t really be happening right now.
He’s still laughing. That asshole. He’s enjoying the fact that I’m never leaving my house again, let alone facing him.
My name. I groan when I realize real Wren was the voice of dream Wren. No wonder it was so frigging perfect. The best dream ever was just sullied by reality.
“You said my name, so I have to know what you were dreaming.”
My face pales in horror as he laughs harder, and I get a little dizzy. I’m going to have to quit work, move towns, buy a fake identity—
“Allie, come on. Let’s nip this in the ass.”
I grow even paler. Did I tell him what I was dreaming while I was dreaming? Or is that just a coincidental use of words?
Oh fuck me! Please let it be a coincidence.
“Allie, please. I swear we’ll never mention it again, but considering I was just a weapon of your pleasure, I’d at least like a few details.”
“Stop enjoying this,” I groan, only prompting him to laugh harder. “And stop being so loud. Our daughter… Oh shit. I’ve got to get Angel to school.”
Oh, no. She might have heard me. Or worse… saw me. I swallow down the painful knot in my throat as my mind scurries to try to come up with some feasible lie to tell her, but Wren puts me out of my misery before I craft a very in-depth story.
“Bella already took her. It’s just you, me and the bathroom door. Oh, and your dream, of course.”
I glance around, curious if I could squeeze my ass out the tiny half window of the bathroom. I’d probably get stuck like some cartoon character, then Wren would have to rescue me, and all this would be worse.
“You suck,” I grumble, glaring at the door once again.
“Is that what I was doing?” he asks, too damn amused.
Sucking, biting, licking… working me over with that riding crop… Shit! I really need him to shut up. I’m never, ever, ever reading one of those damn books again.
“We’re not talking about this if I come out,” I tell him, sounding a little too hopeful.
He snickers softly while knocking again. “Come out. I’ll try not to mention it.”
He did not have to say come like that. Jerk.
“Trying isn’t good enough.”
“Fine,” he says through a small laugh, not sounding convincing at all. “Mum’s the word.”
Cautiously, I open the door to see the smiling asshole leaning against the jamb. His arms are crossed over his impressive chest, and small scratches mar his otherwise flawless, tan skin.
“Shit. Did I do that?” I ask, horrified when I see they are indeed claw marks.
“Yep. Right before you started calling out my name.”
“You dick! You said—”
“You brought it up,” he interrupts, his laughter returning. “I was just answering your question.”
He looks too good in the morning. It’s really not fair.
“You should go,” I grumble, covering my face with my hands, not brave enough to face him any longer.
“Not until this isn’t awkward. Come on. Your calendar says you’re off today. Let’s make some rounds for my mother’s party this weekend. She said you’re coming—no pun intended. I can drive you and Angel.”
No pun intended my ass.
His mother’s early December Christmas party. Shit. How did I forget about that?
And he checked my calendar? Why is he checking my calendar? I only have today off because they were overstaffed and asked for a volunteer to take off. I volunteered because I’m still recovering from the back-to-back surgeries that went on last week.
“I can drive us. You probably have a date,” I say. Okay, so that makes me pathetic for fishing for information, but… I don’t know what’s wrong with me right now.
“No date. So you’re stuck with me. Come on. I’m supposed to swing by Rye’s house first and pick up some of the Christmas shit he picked up for Mom. Then I have to head over to the Colton Estate and pick up some more things. You get the idea. It’ll be a distraction, and it’ll help squash the awkwardness.”
I laugh because I can’t help it.
“Why are you running these errands? And why is Rye picking stuff up for her?” I ask in deflection. “Don’t you rich people hire other people for that sort of thing?”
His eyebrow cocks up. “Us rich people?” He laughs lightly while rolling his eyes. “Mom has always made us get our hands dirty, for the record. Rye is part of the family, since he and Ethan grew up like brothers. Rye has ‘chores’ just like I do. But he forgot to take the stuff to Mom’s, so I’m swinging by on my way. Now stop stalling and get ready.”
“I need a shower first.”
He smirks, and my face heats when I see the promise of more mockery stirring in his mischievous blue eyes. “I bet. Sounded like it was an intense dream.”
I try to slap at him, but he dives away, laughing as he avoids my sad attempts to strike. Growling, I lunge at him, but he catches me effortlessly and effectively pins my arms to my sides while walking me back into the bathroom.
This is seriously not a good position to be in right now. All I’d have to do is lean my head back, and he’d have access to bend down and kiss me for as long as he wanted. Then we could…
No! Stop it, Allie. Not going to happen. It can’t happen.
“No taunting me about my dream,” I say, pretending that my entire body isn’t craving him to lose that damn control he always has over himself.
He snickers while pushing me toward the shower. “Fine. No more taunting. You shower; I’ll go home and shower; and I’ll come back to get you in a few.”
&
nbsp; I don’t believe him one bit when he smiles again, but I’ll be damned if that grin doesn’t infect me and make me smile, too.
“Are these errands… what kind of errands? Besides picking up stuff from Rye.”
“Mundane stuff. Nothing special. But, like I said, it’ll kill the awkwardness.”
I can handle a day of mundane stuff. Just as long as I don’t have to touch Wren. Or see him shirtless. Or feel him pressed against me… Stop! I have to stop thinking.
“Mundane sounds perfect,” I say, cursing the fact I still have images of him licking and biting my ass. That’s seriously the last time I read one of those books. Lesson learned.
***
ALLIE
“Duck!” Rye yells just as we step into his yard, but I don’t react on the blind faith Wren does. And… I’m punished for it.
I scream when something explodes against my face, and a cold, wet drizzle of liquid slides down my body, soaking me. What the hell?
Wren bursts out laughing from his crouched position, standing slowly as I rake water out of my eyes with my fingers. My hair is smattered against my face with a clingy feel, and my shirt is definitely drenched on one side.
“What was that?” I ask, gasping a little when the cool air strikes against the wetness all over me.
“Water balloon,” Rye says as though it’s obvious. “I told you to duck.”
“Why did you throw it at me?” I demand.
He shrugs, looking around me very warily. “You just happened to step in front of her. Now I don’t know where she went.”
I look around, taking in the childlike structures of the yard that I didn’t notice before. In this ritzy subdivision, Rye’s house has numerous things that have been pulled out to play as barricades, including a desk that is turned up on its side. A few car hoods have been stood up in the ground, along with things that look like stage props or something.
“Brin works in a museum,” Wren says when he sees me eyeing a Cleopatra cutout that is proudly standing up in the yard. “She brings home some of the advertisement pieces she works on when a show is over because, well, I don’t know why.”
“So she can find ways to use them against me,” Rye says absently.
Leaning away from me, Wren redirects his attention to a very distracted Rye.
“Do you have the Christmas supplies?” Wren asks, chuckling when I take a step behind him to prevent another water balloon mishap.
Rye’s eyes are on a mission to find any movement behind the structures, and I really don’t want to end up in the line of fire again.
“In the house. Good luck. She has the place rigged for failure. Why do you think I’m fighting for the right to go in?”
“Do they allow this in subdivisions this nice?” I ask curiously.
“They do when it’s me and Brin,” Rye says, shrugging. “The neighborhood enjoys the war.”
A water balloon zips by me and Wren when I pull him back, and it narrowly misses Rye, who immediately crouches low and starts scouring the yard again. This is crazy.
“Too many targets. Which direction did that come from?” he asks… one of us. Not sure who.
Wren laughs while tugging me closer to his protective body, soaking himself with the contact. He doesn’t seem to mind getting wet, and Rye starts belly crawling, entertaining us more.
“Is this a common thing?” I ask, a little worried about their sanity.
“They change things up most of the time. Tomorrow you’ll find something totally different.”
A balloon pelts Wren suddenly, splattering up on me just barely, and Wren sucks in a breath while stepping back.
“Brin! I know that was you!” he calls out, mocking an angry tone that is betrayed by his grin. I laugh without meaning to.
“She’s vicious,” Rye whispers as he wiggles in behind a car hood, holding a balloon in his hand like it’s a gun.
“Where’s your stash?” Wren asks, pulling his shirt over his head despite the cool air. It is frigging colder with a wet shirt on.
His body… I wish he’d stop making me look at it. He wasn’t supposed to be shirtless again, damn it!
Rye motions toward his apparent stash. I look up just in time to see Brin on all fours, waving me over from behind another car hood. Eyeing both guys to make sure they’re otherwise distracted, I discreetly making my way over to her.
She pulls me down with her, motioning to a crate packed full of balloons.
“How many does he have left?” she asks, her body and hair completely dry.
“I don’t know,” I say through my soft laughter.
“You here for the Christmas stuff?”
“Yeah. And now I think my heart is going to pound out of my chest.”
It’s sad that this is giving me an adrenaline rush.
She looks at me with a broad smile on her face. “Great, isn’t it?”
I work hard not to laugh, and then I do something stupid; I grab a water balloon.
She wiggles with excitement before peeking out from behind her shelter, gauging the landscape. “Oh shit!” she screams just as we suddenly get hit with a massive attack, one balloon after another splattering against the hood and spraying onto us.
I throw the first balloon, giggling like an idiot the whole time. It hits the ground nowhere near anyone, but a thrill still shoots through me. After grabbing another one, I look around the side to see Wren hammering us with balloons right beside Rye, who is just as intent on emptying the arsenal.
I throw two balloons as hard as I can. One hits Wren right in the face, and I squeal in excitement when he’s forced to cough.
“Seriously? This is how you want to play?” he asks, a smile in his voice.
The adrenaline burns through me, setting me on fire as I laugh and help out Brin, who is a frigging water-balloon-launching machine. Before I know it, we’re out of balloons, and the guys are, too.
Naively, I assume that means the war is over… Until Brin takes off running, screaming and leaving me behind. Wren suddenly grabs me, and I laugh while trying to wiggle free from his grip.
“Got her!” Rye exclaims proudly from beside the house.
“I’ve got Allie.”
“Wren, stop. Please. I’m laughing so hard it hurts,” I beg.
He just continues carrying me toward the back of the house, and I try not to revel in the way it feels to be pressed up against him—again. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Rye opens the back gate to a patio behind his house, and Wren walks us in.
“Password,” Rye demands to a sulking Brin who has her arms crossed over her chest.
Wren stands me up on my feet, grinning at me while I playfully shove him.
“Fine. It’s your birthday,” Brin concedes on a long, dramatic breath.
Brin rolls her eyes, biting back a grin, and Rye goes to type in a password on the door lock. When the door opens, Wren shoves me to the front of the line.
“What’s going on?” I ask, stumbling toward the door.
“You joined her, so you walk through the house first,” Wren says unapologetically.
“No!” Brin squeals, leaping up.
“Ha! I knew you did more than change the password. Where are the traps?” Rye demands.
“I think we’ll come back later for the stuff,” Wren says through his chuckles, tugging my hand in his after just putting me on the frontline to be sacrificed.
Rye and Brin argue for a second, and then… silence.
“Are they dead?” I worry when we’re outside of the gate.
“Nah. They’re having sex by now. That’s why I got us out of there.”
I know my eyes have to be bugging out of my head. “Seriously?”
“Foreplay,” he explains—at least, he thinks he’s explaining.
He laughs while guiding me back to the car, where he points to the two shirts in the back seat. I climb into the passenger seat, and he gets in on the driver’s side.
“You always bring extra clothes?” I m
use as he pulls a shirt over his head.
Thank God I don’t have to keep staring at his naked chest and abs.
“I was planning on fixing your sink today. Figured I’d need a spare or two. Grab one and change into it. It’ll do until Raya can loan you something else. We’re going there next.”
He wants to fix my sink? Why does that make me smile?
“I can’t just borrow a shirt from Raya. I’ve only met her once. And where am I going to change into your shirt?”
He pulls away from the curb after securing his shirt into place. “Change in here. And Raya won’t care.”
I roll my eyes before returning my gaze to the tempting, warm, dry shirt in the back seat.
“I can’t change in front of you.”
His easy grin kicks up, and he slants his eyes toward me. “After what you did to me this morning, I would think changing in front of me would be the least embarrassing.”
My face burns red, and he chuckles, mocking me all the more. So much for not mentioning it. At least it’s slowly getting less embarrassing. Well, sort of.
***
WREN
Blue balls are not an urban legend. I learned that today. They are very fucking real, and very fucking painful.
I still can’t stop thinking about her calling out my name when that look spread across her face—pure ecstasy. She was biting her lip, moaning, writhing, and shuddering against me, and I just about embarrassed myself by going off with her.
Fortunately, she woke up and freaked out, which took the edge off. Unfortunately, I’ve been left in the most pain of my life.
Thank God for cold showers. It’s the only thing that made my dick go down. But it hurts. It hurts so damn bad.
“Don’t look,” she says, leaning over and grabbing my shirt out of the back seat.
Obviously the second her shirt comes off, I look. Damn. I can’t believe I don’t remember anything about that night with her. It’s really pissing me off.
Her soft, very round, perky, large breasts are encased by a pink bra—one with a lacy trim. It makes me curious if she’s the type to match her underwear.
