Breathe (Hollow Ridge Book 2)

by C. L. Matthews

  “It must be a joke. My dad has been on my case, wanting me to help with his campaign by getting married, so he probably did this. Made me have a leg to stand on. Maybe it’s his attempt to force my hand.”

  “I promise you this, Ladybug. This is real. It’s as legitimate as it gets. You’re married. To my best friend, no less.” His face pales. “Why wouldn’t he tell me?” The hurt isn’t something he can mask. It’s right there on his forehead and in the long frown he probably doesn’t realize he’s wearing. It’s in the way his eyes seem lost and perturbed, but mostly, it’s in the way he holds himself like it’s ruining everything.

  “He couldn’t have... could he? Why wouldn’t he say something?”

  “Maybe it was a game. Either way, you two need to discuss this, and I definitely need a fucking drink.”

  I stare at him with a deep sadness. Disappointing people you care about sucks, especially when they never swear and can’t resist the urge. He lets the document fall to the floor before heading to his wet bar. Fuck. I really messed up this time and don’t even know what to do.

  “Y-You’re what?” Gray asks an hour later after she gets home, her face pale, a perfect match to her father’s. Almost like she’s as shocked as I am.

  “Married. Toby and I apparently got married that night in Vegas.”

  “Jesus Christ, Joey. This is insane. You married my uncle.”

  “I’m just as shocked as you are,” I grab the bottle of Goose I stole from Francis’s bar, bringing it to my lips. “I really fucked myself over. Who would willingly marry a man like that?” But even with my scathing words, I don’t feel them. Toby is a dick for sure, but there’s something underlying there. A hurt man. Secrets. Maybe even some heartbreak. Either way, if he loves as well as his body fucks, he’s got to be a good-ass guy.

  “He’s not so bad,” she muses. “When I was younger, I used to tell Ace that I was going to marry him.” The words tumble out, but Ace... that name. Ace must be that childhood love of hers.

  “Is that so?” I ignore the nagging inside me that seeks more information. She’ll tell me her story when she’s ready and I’ll be here for her.

  “Yeah.” She giggles and takes the bottle from my hand, taking a swig and choking on the fumes. “Uncle Toby always took care of me. I was in love.”

  My heart feels warm at her words, and it has nothing to do with the alcohol.

  “I guess it made sense, especially since my mom hated me and my father was dead. Toby and Jase were stand-in father figures to me. I loved them. So much.” A tear slips free. “Lost them both so easily though.”

  I take the bottle from her and chug for a second. There’s not enough booze in the world to mask this girl’s hurt. Hell, if not for the booze and my hardened interior, I’d be her. A sad mess of tears and resentment. But that’s what happens when you harden yourself to pain.

  Not even the good stuff slips through.

  “Reconnect, Gray.”

  “Can’t. I don’t want to be a burden. I don’t look like my mother, but I’m a reminder of all the havoc she wreaked on everyone.”

  “Try. Especially before you run back off to France.”

  “H-How’d you know?”

  “You had pamphlets on the table in the dining room. Figured you had your mind set on starting afresh.”

  She nods solemnly. “I don’t want to see Ace again.”

  “Then don’t. See Jase and his wife. Go reconnect. What if this is your last chance?”

  “You’re right. I’m scared.”

  “Fear is for the fish. Be you and fierce. Don’t let anyone stop you. Not even some tool with a silly name like Ace.”

  She chuckles and nods at me.

  We drink until the bottle is empty, which doesn’t take long since it wasn’t full to start with. I’m riding a buzz, and Gray is passed out. Who said drunk texting was for the birds?

  Got some news today, I send to my boss. Fuck. He is my boss now. Isn’t he? We have this mutual nothingness. Like we don’t talk, fuck, or anything in between. We exist, but right now, with a fifth of vodka swimming through me, I want him. It comes and goes. That’s what my vibrator is for, to satisfy the ache Toby left me with.

  Is this about work?

  No.

  Then why are you texting me, Sous? My body warms at the name, and I can even hear his deep timbre saying it. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I’m so far gone for this asshole, and he has no idea.

  It pertains to you, dick. Shit. Maybe calling your boss a dick isn’t the brightest idea. I never said I was the brightest light bulb in the package, though.

  Call me dick again, Sous. I’ll definitely show you how true that statement is. My body warms and fucking boils moments later as I remember him taking me against my car and telling me I’m his. But he didn’t keep me. Maybe I’m only his for when he’s ready and willing. Wouldn’t be a surprise. Men like Toby, with possessive streaks, only want to be controlling when it’s in their best interest.

  We’re married, Toby. Did you know that? It’s all I could offer. A Band-Aid. Telling him I want his dick inside me isn’t an option. He’s my boss, and this job has been phenomenal. Not just an experience, but for my mood. Everyone loves my cooking. The restaurant’s ratings have skyrocketed because of me. If that’s not an ego boost, then I’m not sure what is.

  Instead of a text message, my phone lights up. Toby is calling, and I really want to be a teenager and chuck the phone across the room. As tempting as that is, Gray is sleeping next to me, so I have to be quiet.

  I tiptoe out of the room before I answer. “H-Hello,” I mutter, my words a little slurred.

  “So, you are drunk. I honestly had a heart attack.”

  “Oh, I’m serious as shit,” I mumble. A giggle escapes me, and I have to slap my hand over my mouth.

  “Who have you been drinking with, Sous?” It comes out dark and threatening. I can’t help but clench my thighs. What the fuck is wrong with me? When did men being demanding dicks turn me on?

  “Gray,” I say, stifling another laugh.

  “She’s fucking seventeen. If Francis—”

  “He’s drinking too,” I interrupt.

  “With you?” he accuses, sounding all burly and jealous. God, it’s so hot. He’s so fucking hot. “While I know I’m hot, Sous, I’m your boss, and you probably shouldn’t be saying that.”

  “I said that out loud?” I’m mortified at the slip up. I’ve been good for so long that I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be reckless.

  “Yes. Why is Frankie drinking?”

  “He saw our wedding certificate. Seems he’s not happy about the outcome.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Fuck,” I repeat, unable to stop laughing at the way he groans. “Wes.” I enunciate the ‘s’ because I’m tripping over the word. “He brought the certificate over. When did we tie the knot, hubbykins?”

  “Don’t ever fucking call me that again,” he grumps on the other end. “Remember Vegas?” His voice is gravelly and wetness pools between my thighs.

  “Can’t say I do, old man.”

  A grumble on the other end of the phone has me smiling wide. “Me either. Which means, that’s probably when we fucked up.”

  “Please don’t say that word anymore, Toby. It’s doing weird things to my body.”

  “Joey,” he complains huskily, and I can imagine his hand between his thighs stroking up and down. A moan slips out, and I can’t even stop it. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” he grouses, and I’m so hot and bothered, hating and loving vodka with each passing second.

  “Come over,” I taunt. “Unless you’re—”

  “Don’t finish that fucking sentence.”

  “Why, old man, can’t handle my sass?”

  “I can handle you well, Sous. Or do I need to remind you of that?”

  “Hmm,” I tease. “It’s been too long.”

  “I’ll be there in thirty minutes. Don’t you fucking move.” My phone beeps when he disconnects the call.

&n
bsp; I take a picture of myself in one of the guest rooms, only wearing my short shorts and camisole without a bra, and send it to Toby. I’m leaning against the bed, my legs wide.

  With the caption: Like this, old man?

  I bet he’s growling.

  I love it when he growls.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Past

  Joey

  “You need to come home.”

  “That is not my home,” I return, hating that I sound as upset as I do. My father grumbles something under his breath, making me clutch my phone tighter.

  “If you don’t, I’ll be disappointed.” Like I fucking care at this point, but seeing him with an emotion other than the ones his wife forces onto him is too enticing to ignore.

  “Fine. I’ll be there in fifteen.”

  I press my code in the front gate, and as it opens, I almost wish I could destroy it and his perfect storybook house. He thinks that being in this big castle makes him any less sad. He’s a very lonely man. His wife doesn’t love him, he doesn’t love himself, and he’s slowly losing my love too.

  His heart that used to be full of kindness is now hollow and desolate.

  “Miss Moore, so nice to see you,” Gareth mutters, I groan, but otherwise ignore him. We don’t like each other. He always told on me to Dad when I snuck out.

  I enter my old house with a bitterness in my gait, making sure to smack my heels loudly so he’s aware I’ve arrived. He hates noise and unnecessary drama. I’d just gotten the news yesterday that Toby and I are married. While he took it well, I’m not sure why. As I round the dining room, I see him seated with Marsha. When my eyes hit the opposite side of the table where I normally sit, my heart sinks.

  Toby.

  In the flesh.

  “Toby?” I question, watching as his annoyed gaze and posture meet my surprised ones.

  “Joey,” he addresses me, not giving anything away.

  “Sit down, Josephine. We have much to discuss.” The scathing glare my dad sends my way makes Marsha smile and never in my life have I wanted to smack a look off someone’s face as much as I do now.

  I sit next to Toby, putting a hand on his thigh for comfort. It isn’t until he stiffens that I realize I’ve overstepped my boundaries.

  “Have you watched the news recently, Josephine?”

  “Does a bear shit in the woods?”

  Toby coughs into his champagne, and I smile in kind. Fuck these rich dicks. They’re horrible to me and expect me to bend over to their every command.

  “Josephine,” Dad chastises. “Not now.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Father. Where are my manners? Does a bear defecate in the forest? Is that better?”

  Toby tries really hard and fails to cough over a chuckle, and for some reason, I find that endearing.

  “In the Hollow Ridge news yesterday, a story ran.”

  “When does it not?” The snide remark slips out before I can contain it.

  “Would you stop interrupting me?” he hisses. “You’re being petulant.”

  “My bad, should’ve sent me to somewhere other than Paris then. They speak their minds, the total opposite of those brain-dead guppies such as your wife.”

  “Enough!” he yells, using a voice I haven’t heard since I was really little. Toby switches places and squeezes my thigh. “You will listen to me, Josephine.”

  “Okay, Father,” I mutter unenthusiastically.

  “News broke out that you eloped with Mr. Hayes over here.”

  Now it’s my turn to choke. Dad never lets me drink champagne, yet here as I choke on it, I’m very aware that this occasion is a rare one.

  He wants something.

  I stare at him agape, wondering where this is going.

  “You are to stay married to Tobias.”

  “Are you—” Toby grips my leg tighter, stopping my words.

  “We’ve already controlled the situation. Made it out as a story of a man and a woman desperate for each other but scared of their family’s approval, so they made a rash decision.”

  I’m trying to keep calm, but Toby’s hand keeps rising. It’s making me flush in every area of my body. It’s been over a month since we slept together, and my body misses his and the way it plays me like a fiddle. His fingers trail upward, and I have to adjust in my seat before I moan.

  “Okay,” I say, and Toby’s hand rises. It’s like he’s calling me a good girl with every slide of his fingers.

  “Just like that?” he grouches across from me.

  “Why not? We don’t have to be in love to fuck each other.”

  My father’s face looks like a ripened tomato. Red, swelling, with that vein on his forehead popping outward.

  “You’re being unladylike,” my father chastises all while Marsha grins as if I’m making her night. My theory was right about Toby because his fingers halt at that comment.

  “I’m sorry, you’re right. I’m sure we’re going to fall in love at any moment.” I only say the words to test Toby and see if he’ll finally reach where I want him. Widening my legs a little, I’m pleased to feel his fingers edge my panties. His face gives nothing away, but the massive bulge in his slacks tell me everything I need to know.

  He wants me.

  He’ll do anything to have me.

  As Dad discusses why we have to be together for his image, he also explains that with me cooperating, I’ll be receiving my entire inheritance as soon as we sign a contract to be married until his election ends.

  Easy enough.

  “Bring the documents. I’ll sign them right now.”

  I say the words with a chipper demeanor, but in reality, none of it matters, except for the orgasm I’m bound to have right in front of my father and his stupid wife. Just as I imagine, his fingers move my panties to the side, and between my legs is a wet pussy that’s craving some major Toby attention.

  “Josey?”

  “Yes,” I mutter, clearing my throat and hoping the flush I feel from Toby’s fingers isn’t visible.

  “I’m proud of you.”

  They are my dad’s words, but they’re as fake as his Botox injections. Yet I smile at him and practically moan as Toby fingers me knuckle-deep.

  I squeeze his thigh as I ride the high of him finger-fucking me while my dad sits a mere five feet away. I’m practically humming with the feeling of an impending orgasm, but right as I’m about to detonate, Toby pulls his fingers away just as the wait staff drops off our plates on the table. He makes a show of touching his lamb with the finger that was inside me, then he licks it slow and sensually, his eyes not leaving mine.

  “This lamb is absolutely divine,” Toby muses. “Perfect, even.”

  “Tease,” I grumble under my breath, knowing only he could hear. With his cocksure smile and smirk thereafter, I’m sure this night will end with his cock inside me.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Past

  Toby

  She’s fucking stunning. Spending as much time away from her as possible was the deal. Being around her breaks my barriers, but fuck, I want her. Day in and day out, she’s all I think about. I haven’t even been with a single person since we were together against her car. The taste of her cunt is all I imagine; it’s all I dream about and savor. It’s all I want and all I need.

  “So, that was awkward,” she mutters as I’m escorting her outside.

  “The fact that we’re married and can’t remember? Or the fact that we just signed contracts because you deserve every penny of your inheritance?”

  “What? That’s why you did it?”

  “Yes,” I say easily, but it’s a lie. She doesn’t need to know any other details. Because this is enough for me.

  “What’s in it for you?” she questions, folding her arms in a don’t fuck with me manner. It’s charming to say the least.

  “A warm cunt I can sink into every night, morning, midday. Actually, it’s for whenever I’m starving and desperate. You know, it’s just what I want. You. Beneath me. M
y cock filling you.”

  She lets out a puff of air, and it’s adorable. Unable to help myself, I lean forward and take her mouth. She tastes like champagne and dinner. And something sweeter that must be all her.

  “You have a large ego, Toby.”

  “I have an even larger cock, Joey. Or have you forgotten?”

  “You may need to remind me,” she challenges, and my dick stiffens entirely in my slacks. Pushing her against the hood of my car, I listen to her moan. It’s such a velvety sound, soaking me in hot liquid heat.

  “You don’t know what you’re asking for, Sous.”

  “I’m asking you to prove your words are true.”

  “Not sure your daddy will like me sinking my cock in his little princess. Especially when I’m filling her with my seed, making her scream my name, and feeling her clench me like she’ll die if she doesn’t have me.”

  “Toby,” she moans. It’s more of a whimper, something we both can get behind.

  “Yes, Sous?”

  “Fuck me before I break your dick.”

  “So demanding.”

  Unzipping my pants but keeping the button closed, I slide my dick out and hover it over her opening. Moving her panties to the side, much like I did at dinner, I tease her center but never touch her where she wants me to. She writhes and makes the sexiest little whimpers. “I always knew you enjoyed public outings, Sous. Just didn’t know you wanted my dick inside you each time.”

  “Toby, I swear to fuck if you don’t—”

  She moans as I sink inside her. Her body arches into me as my cock fills her up. She’s a mess of wetness and moans, reduced to the sensation of me filling her and hitting her exactly where she wants and needs.

  “More,” she demands, her face flushed. I raise her up, angling us both to hit her G-spot, and as I’m rutting into her, I slide my palm between her thighs and pinch her clit. “Fuck!” she practically screams, the swollen bud beneath my fingers only makes my dick swell.

  I start rubbing in harsh circles, just like she likes, and it doesn’t take long before she’s coming around my dick, squeezing me so fucking tight that I see stars.