His Weekend Wife (The KNIGHT Brothers Book 2)

by Rhonda Lee Carver

  Rubbing his hands through her hair, he lathered in a good amount of the coconut scented shampoo, massaging her scalp. “Am I hitting all of the right spots?”

  Her moan vibrated his chest. He laughed and continued to rub her head, smoothing the suds all the way from the roots to ends of her hair. Dry, her hair was long. Wet, it far exceeded anything imaginable.

  She relaxed against him and he moved his hands to her shoulders, her neck, feeling the muscle ease one by one. He enjoyed indulging her, loved how a whimper sounded from her, how her hands were laying easily on his thighs. The water swarmed around them, engulfing them in the warmth and comfort.

  It would be so easy for him to forget the time that had separated them. How she’d broken his heart. Yes, the Declan Knight was capable of having his heart broken and she’d managed to break it, then stomp on it. Logically, it was in his best interest to forget their history and remember this was only a temporary situation. But he still cared for her. Loved her, in fact.

  Did that make him a sap?

  Probably so.

  Her eyes were shut and her head was leaning against his shoulder. “I feel amazing,” she whispered.

  “That’s the point. All you should be doing is relaxing and enjoying.”

  “Those hands of yours make it hard for anything else. I could stay here forever.”

  He stiffened. Forever?

  He reached for a washcloth, dipped it into the water and used it to help rinse the soap from her hair. Once that was finished, he spotted a bottle of luxurious body soap, poured a dollop into his palms, rubbed them together then kneaded her shoulders, sliding his hands down her arms, lifting his hands to scrub her fingers, then back up to her shoulders. A low moan escaped her, making his body ache.

  *****

  Ash felt deliciously and mindlessly joyful as Declan rubbed the soap over her body. His large hands worked magic on her nerve endings. She doubted life could get any better. This was complete and total heaven.

  Being that she was still relaxed from their lovemaking and now with the warmth of the water and his hands all made her want to curl into him and stay. What in the world was he doing to her? This wasn’t supposed to be part of the business deal. He wasn’t supposed to treat her like he cared. Did he want her to fall mindlessly? To go insane with need?

  His hands cupped her breasts, smoothing the silken wash over the mounds, tweaking her nipples. He caressed his way down her stomach, to her hips, then glided his hand between her thighs and washing away the remnants of their lovemaking. Her breath hitched when he brushed against her sensitive clit, tracing the swollen nub and trembling seam of her body. He brought his hands back to her breasts, expertly kneading them.

  “Have I ever told you that you have the most amazing breasts?” he whispered next to her ear.

  “A few times, back when we were—” She stopped herself. They were still married.

  “Is it hard to speak the word?”

  “No. I—well, I just feel vulnerable when I say it.”

  “These are perfect too.” He swirled his fingers around her nipples. They reacted by tingling and bunching. How was it possible that he could send electrical jolts to every part of her?

  He rubbed his chin against her shoulder, his stubble grazing her skin. She guessed she had his ‘mark’ on her inner thighs too. But what mattered most, he’d left his mark deep inside of her. A tattoo, or branding, on her heart.

  He lifted her hand, running his tongue over the tips of her short nails. “Tell me about the last five years, bella.”

  She knew what he was asking. “Difficult.”

  “You could have come to me.”

  “No, I couldn’t. I had to stay on my own two feet. I had to make it on my own. Angelina paying for school had helped. That was enough.”

  “You mean it’s easier to be alone so you don’t have to worry.”

  She stiffened. “What do you mean?”

  He rolled her nipples between his fingers, giving her instant satisfaction, she almost forgot her train of thought until he answered. “You were always afraid I’d leave you.” His soft voice tickled her ears. “So, you found differences between us that weren’t exactly differences that couldn’t be solved.”

  Swallowing, she tried sending the message from her brain to her tongue. It wasn’t easy not when she was unraveling under his touch. “You would have left. Or kicked me out, just as you had.”

  “We argued. I did tell you to leave, but honestly, I wasn’t talking forever.” He exhaled, nuzzling her neck. “For days after you left, I waited, then I came home one evening to find all of your things gone.”

  “I couldn’t…”

  “What, bella? Couldn’t what?” he urged.

  “See you.” She stared at the stucco ceiling.

  There was a long silence until he said, “We have twenty-nine days together. I suggest we do what we agreed, but also enjoy this time with no promises, no guarantees. You’re my wife and I will treat you as you are without prejudice to the fact that you left me. I suggest we fuck, laugh, seduce each other every chance we get.”

  His raw words slid through her like a candy-coated jackhammer. She should be disgusted at his suggestion, but instead she saw the advantages to his offer. Truth was, she liked being here, enjoyed his touch and how he made her feel. Liked hearing him call her his ‘wife’, although she was certain he used the term loosely. She’d expected him to be spiteful, maybe even revengeful, toward her, but he was anything but implacable. In fact, he was the opposite. He’d been attentive, charming and amazingly giving. “So what’s the catch?” she asked without thinking ahead of the consequences of such a question.

  “There is no catch, sweetheart. You’ll be granted your wish at the end of the month. A divorce.” There was a slight hiccup to his voice, but she didn’t have time to examine the reason. “Let’s get out of here before we’re both prunes.”

  She stood, reached for the towel, but he was quicker. He had it in his hand and was helping her from the tub. He wrapped the terry cloth around her breasts and tucked it so that it would stay. She looked at him, drawn in by the clarity of his beautiful eyes. His jaw was tight.

  “You’re still kind hearted, Declan. I wonder how many people get a glimpse at just how so.”

  His nostrils flared. “Not many and I like it that way.”

  “Being kind doesn’t make you weak. No matter what your father instilled in you and your brothers.”

  He scrubbed his jaw, the scruff sounded like sandpaper. “Now let’s not go ruining a good thing by talking about my father.”

  “Then what shall we discuss?”

  He wrapped his arms around her waist and dragged her in closer, pressing her body against his still nude and damp masculine lines. “I vote we forget talking and just move straight into the seduction.” He wagged his brows and one corner of his mouth lifted.

  She lifted her arms and swung them over his shoulders, caressing the back of his neck with her fingers. “I think we skipped the red lights and did that hours ago.”

  He crushed his lips to hers, sliding his tongue between her lips and she opened for him. His arms were around her tight and she could feel his erection pressing her stomach. This feeling of being held by him made her overlook the desperation in his kiss. Oh, how she’d wanted this, needed this, many times over the last five years. There were just times when a woman needed to be held and cherished, appreciated. He’d always been those things to her, until she walked away. The longer she was here, near him, the more faded the reason why she left became.

  In the back of her mind there was a blinking warning sign, reminding her this wouldn’t last forever. In this moment she soaked up his scent, his feel, and allow him to ease the ache in her heart—and in her groin. Then when the month was over she’d walk away.

  Her throat constricted and a sad moan spiraled up her throat.

  He pulled back and the towel loosened, falling at her feet. He groaned and his eyes were wild silver poo
ls. His mouth came to hers again, this time with more aggression. His hands were on her bare back, his fingers digging into her skin, full of desperation and yet gentleness. The draw between them had become as intense as a tornado, and they stood in the eye.

  She backed up until she’d reached the sink and now their naked bodies were pressed together—his brawny chest, his six-pack abs, and his raging cock. And she had an urge that she wasn’t about to ignore.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Declan clenched his teeth. Ash was on her knees with his hard cock in her hand, her lips parted as she was looking up his body, their gazes connected. He’d never been so close to bursting in his life.

  But there was no way in hell he’d come this soon.

  She wrapped her mouth around his girth and a moan ripped from his throat. Sinking his fingers in her hair, he held her head as she bobbed, suckling him in and out between her wet lips. Her tongue swirled around his sensitive head, then licking the slit. Her groan vibrated his body and he jerked, demanding that his body stay in control. He didn’t realize he was thrusting his hips until her head bumped the edge of the granite sink top. “Shit! Are you okay?”

  She smiled, with his cock still in her mouth. Holy fuck!

  He couldn’t take much more of this and she must have sensed his urgency. She pulled her mouth from him and his cock slapped against his stomach. What happened next was mixed in a cloud of desire. She slipped onto the top of the sink and spread her legs wide. “I’m yours for the taking.”

  He was a goner. There was no thought only the fact that he needed to bury his body into her tight body, and that’s what he did. And at that moment he knew, without a sliver of doubt, he was screwed—literally.

  Those were his same thoughts the next morning when he hung up his phone with Hannigan and carried the breakfast tray upstairs where he found Ash still sleeping in a cloud of red sheets. He stood in the doorway for the longest time, stamping her image into the back of his eyelids. This was a dream—had to be because he’d never felt so damn happy and confused at the same time.

  She was curled up into a fetal position. Her long, dark hair was spread across the pillow in a silken wave of ebony. The sheet was pulled over her hip, exposing the feminine curve of her pale back and toned legs. Her feet were pressed together and her toes were tucked. He smiled. Her sleeping position hadn’t changed in the last five years.

  Placing the tray on the dresser, he didn’t make a move to wake her quite yet. He wanted to watch her a bit longer so he sat down on the chair, stretched his legs and steepled his fingers. After last night, he was certain this wouldn’t be as easy to end as he’d first believed. Logic told him he couldn’t just sleep with his wife and then be done. Maybe it was time he started making some decisions.

  If he gave into his emotions he’d never let her go again, unless she no longer wanted him. It was a two-way street. During their lovemaking, he’d witnessed something telling in her gaze, something akin to what he’d seen years ago, back when things were happier.

  He reached into his back pocket and pulled out the crumpled envelope and opened it. He’d finally gotten the balls to read the letter his sister had written to him, but now he was more confused. He reread the words for the third time…

  Dear Declan,

  If you’re reading this then unfortunately I’m no longer here. Please understand that I am okay, and will be okay, and so will you. I could go on and on and tell you how much I love you, but because you have an ego the size of Atlanta, you already know. Sorry, just a bit of humor to make this easier. I’m going to miss that smile. I hope when this is all through, you can forgive my meddling, but what are sisters for?

  Love,

  Angelina

  He stared at the words until they blurred.

  That’s it? That’s what she had to say to me in the last hours of her life? What meddling was she talking about?

  Hearing a rustling of sheets, he looked over the edge of the paper at his sleeping wife. How had Ash crawled under his skin? She’d never left. And suddenly, he had the answers…

  He wanted her to stay. Forever.

  Growing up without a mother he’d often wondered how different his life would have been if she had lived, or maybe if his father would have remarried—or even been a nurturing father. Declan had never learned how to connect with his sweet side until he met Ash and she’d changed him—made him a better man. Truth was, marriage wasn’t for punks. He’d screwed up when he’d allowed his cold, distant side to rear its head. That was a character flaw for him and all his brothers who’d never learned how relationships worked. Their father was working more than he was at home and if Declan had wanted to see him, he had to find a place in Theobald’s world. Declan had. He’d become business savvy and a successful businessman. His father would be proud.

  Declan blew out a long breath.

  He shifted in the chair, remembering at ten when he’d walked into his father’s office. He’d gotten his grade report from the school and Declan had already known the marks weren’t high, at least in his father’s standards. He’d always enforced good grades and reminded his kids almost daily that they were being sent to one of the best private schools in the country and their one job was to be top of the class. Well, Declan never liked school much and that report was proof.

  Theobald had turned on Declan and he’d almost pissed his pants. His father was a pro at cutting down his children, or any man, with one Knight firm look.

  “This is unacceptable,” Theobald had said in a cold, tight voice.

  Declan had swallowed and shifted in his untied tennis shoes. “I hate school. The teachers are all dumb.”

  Theobald’s fist came down hard on the desk, upsetting the pencil holder and sending it rolling off the edge. “How dare you, Son. What gives you the right to question someone’s intelligence when you’ve lived such a short time?”

  After that, Declan learned to keep his emotions out of his relationship with his father and concentrate on doing everything to show his father that he was a great businessman. And, oh, had Declan thrived in that area.

  Ash rolled and whimpered. One long leg stretched, revealing more soft skin to his hungry gaze. He couldn’t find the words to describe just how much he wanted to go to her and prove to her how much he wanted her, needed her. Her lashes fluttered and a sleep-induced husky moan slipped from her precious pout. His cock jerked, but he had to keep his body in control and his mind in working order. They had something to discuss…

  She blinked twice then her brows scrunched. “How long have you been sitting there?” She shifted and her hair cascaded down her shoulders. She held the sheet against her bare breasts, but the tops of the pale mounds were visible, making him more tempted to rip the covering from her body and make her his.

  Swallowing, he rubbed his chin. “Not long.”

  “Your dressed. You must have gotten up early.”

  Her eyes shone like diamonds.

  “About an hour. I had a phone call I had to make.”

  She leaned against the headboard, still making sure the sheet stayed in place. “Let me guess. You’ve turned into a working machine.”

  He shrugged. “This is just a way of life.”

  One corner of her mouth dropped. “That saddens me”

  “It shouldn’t. It has no effect on you one way or another.” Shock raised her brows. He hadn’t meant for his words to sound so harsh, but then again, she made no effort to correct him. She just sat quietly. “Looks like we’ve received an invitation to a business associate’s abode.” He watched her closely.

  “The business partner who believes that you’re married?”

  “Yes.”

  She played with the edge of the sheet. “Maybe we should get an understanding of what exactly we’re doing here.”

  “We’re husband and wife.”

  “Legally, you’re right, but I guess what I’m asking, am I to play the role of the adoring, loving wife or do I make myself scarce unless you hav
e a social event?”

  Her description of the situation made his stomach burn. “If you’re asking me if I’m expecting sex, no, it’s not an expectation, but would I like to continue what we shared last night?” His eyes naturally fell on the bed. “The answer is yes. I’d like to continue making love to you as often as humanly possible.”

  “Does that include this morning?” Her eyes turned a darker shade.

  He shifted to give his cock some growing room. “Oh, that can be arranged, but first you must replenish your body. You’re already too skinny from working yourself day and night.” He stood, lifted the platter and placed it on her lap. “Oatmeal. Does a body good.”

  “I hate oatmeal.” She wrinkled her nose.

  “Since when?”

  “I’ve never been fond of it.”

  “I used to make it for you almost every morning.” He was a bit shattered.

  She shrugged. “Sorry. The truth must be told. I ate it because I didn’t want to hurt your feelings, but honestly, I don’t think I can suffer through another bowl.”

  “Then at least eat the toast.” He sat down next to her hip on the bed.

  “Gladly. I’m starving.” She picked up a piece of the toast, dipped her knife into the jar and spread the apple butter from corner to corner of the triangle. “You’re so thoughtful to make me breakfast.” She bit into the slice.

  “It’s the least I could do after I wore you out last night. How did you sleep?” He raised a brow.

  The way she tucked her bottom lip between her lips told him what he was hoping. “Like a worn out, well-loved woman.” She wagged her brows, popping the last bit of toast into her mouth.

  He laid his hands on either side of her hips and leaned closer, inhaling her sweet scent. “What did you like most?”

  “Everything.” A telling flush covered her cheeks.

  “My kisses?” He kissed her cheek then pulled away to meet her gaze again.

  “Yes, of course.” Her voice trembled.

  “My touch?” Trailing his finger along her jaw, her neck, between her collarbones and lower between the cleft of her breasts, loosening the sheet. The covering slipped away, exposing her bunched, rosy nipples.