The Wife Arrangement

by Wylder, Penny

  I’m not far behind. I fuck her with abandon now, those words I’m yours too hot coming from her, too impossibly sexy for me to stop now even if I wanted to. And I don’t want to stop.

  I don’t ever want to stop pleasuring Dee.

  “You want a baby?” I ask her, tone low.

  “Yes,” she moans, breathy. “Give me a baby, Jasper. Put a baby in me.”

  “I’ll put a baby in your belly. I’m going to fill you with my cum, Dee.” I thrust faster, harder. Grip her ass and lift her up against me, arching up with one last hard thrust. I feel my cock hit home within her, sliding all the way in to the hilt, as the orgasm hits. I shoot rush after rush of hot cum into her, filling her with my seed. She cries aloud, almost as loud as when she came herself, and buries her face in my neck, breathing hard.

  “Fuck,” she whispers, when she finally has the strength to unhook her legs from mine and stand again, albeit on shaky legs. I hold her up, and when I draw my cock out of her pussy, a hot rush of our mingled juices spills down her inner thigh, trickles all the way to the floor.

  I grin and drop to my knees. Pull her hips to my face and, unable to help myself, lean in to kiss her mound. Her clit. I flick my tongue against her, over her hot pussy, red from the pounding it just took. I lick her and suck her, tasting our juices mingled in her sweet pussy, and then I flick my tongue over her clit, again and again, until her head falls back against the wall and she lets out a wail of pleasure, echoing in the high-ceilinged room.

  I will never tire of making my wife cry out in pleasure like that. I’ll never get tired of Dee, period. I love her, now and forever.

  18

  Dee

  Six Months Later

  We speed along the test track. Well. I speed along, and Jasper whoops in appreciation from the passenger side seat. It’s my turn to take our latest model out for a spin—one that I helped design. I worked my way up into the design element of the internship all on my own, I might add, with no special recommendations from the boss. Aside from the stellar letter of recommendation Greg wrote me (since we figured a letter from my own husband would look a little strange on an application), which landed me a position in a top university right here in town.

  Not only will I be able to keep interning at Quint Motors, but I’ll finally be able to start pursuing the degree that will grant me the qualifications to work here full-time as soon as I graduate.

  Who says you can’t mix business and pleasure?

  Right now, it feels like the two are pretty in sync, as I floor the gas and whip toward the corner of the track.

  “Careful at this part,” Jasper warns me, but it’s habit—we’ve been through this so many times, in so many models of cars. He knows I can handle myself behind the wheel at this point. We both can.

  Still, I take extra care, today of all days, when I round the corner. I’ve got some surprises up my sleeve for my husband today, after all.

  It’s been six months since our whirlwind wedding. Since we returned from the trip on which we were supposed to pretend to be husband and wife as actual husband and wife. And since that day, my love for Jasper has only grown, every single moment we spend together. He’s every bit the supportive husband I could ask for, and my biggest cheerleader. Not to mention his family has adopted me as one of their own, taking it upon themselves to include me in more family group chats than I can handle, and inviting me to every family event and gathering they’ve had since their big Greece reunion—the one that turned into our surprise wedding celebration halfway through.

  The one thing we haven’t gotten yet, however, is the start to a family of our own. We’ve been trying, ever since our wedding night, but sometimes these things take time.

  “There’s no rush,” Jasper is always reminding me. “We have the rest of our lives for this.” But I notice the way he watches his little cousins, the longing expression he gets in his eye whenever he holds Sofia’s youngest in his arms. She’s only a few months old now, and cute as can be. Getting to the fussy stage, but at least for now we can pass her back.

  Pretty soon, we won’t be able to do that. But the funny thing is, I’m more than excited enough for that moment to arrive.

  We speed around the corner of the test track, and I head for another loop. That’s when Jasper notices. “Hey, where are the pit crew?” he asks.

  “I gave them an early lunch. Told them not to bother us the rest of the day,” I say, momentarily trailing off as I maneuver through one particularly tricky part of the track.

  When I’m back on a straightaway, I turn to see my husband watching me with a tilt to his head, suspicion dawning in his eyes. “Why did you do that?”

  I grin, mischief flooding my face. I can never keep a secret from Jasper for long, damn him. “I figured we could have some fun,” I say, to cover up the whole story. In reality, my whole body is already buzzing with excitement at what’s going to happen today. How everything will change.

  “Oh really.” Jasper’s voice drops low and suggestive. “What sort of… fun?”

  “Well. You and I both love cars,” I point out.

  “We did establish that day one.” He smirks.

  I shift gears and speed off the side of the track toward the pull-off. I skid to a halt there and then throw the car in park. There’s nobody else in the test track room—I cordoned the whole thing off. Blocked it in the calendar as reserved for a private testing event, and sent the rest of the staff home early. It’s just us here. Me, Jasper, and the sexy new car I helped his team design.

  “And yet, we’ve never fooled around in one,” I say, head tilted in mock shock. “I wonder why that is.”

  “Fooled around?” He smirks. “What are we, teenagers?”

  “Okay.” I lock eyes with him. Start to climb over into the passenger side seat. “We’ve never fucked in a car, Jasper. Much less a car I helped design. A car your company produced and built. A car I just tore through this test track driving. Don’t you think we’re missing out on a golden opportunity?”

  By the time I reach his side of the car and straddle his lap, I can tell he agrees by the thick bulge in his jeans, pressing through his pants and against my crotch.

  He reaches down for the pencil skirt I’m wearing. “Hmm, you make some excellent points there, Mrs. Quint. I think we need to see what we can do about rectifying this situation.” With that, he pushes the skirt up around my waist…

  Only to find I’m not wearing anything beneath.

  His eyebrows shoot up, and his mouth curls in pleasure. “Did you go all day without panties, Mrs. Quint?”

  I catch his eye, lift one brow. “I did indeed, Mr. Quint.”

  “You’re a dirty girl.” He grabs my waist and pulls me down on top of him, the press of his cock digging against my bare pussy through his pants. Then he reaches between my legs, making sure to graze my clit with his thumb along the way, and undoes the zipper of his pants.

  “I’m your dirty girl,” I clarify, leaning in to trail my tongue up the side of his neck. “And today I don’t want to just drive this car. I want to take my husband for a test drive too.”

  He pulls out his thick cock, and just like every time I see it, I inhale, sharp, my belly tensing with want. He’s so big. I love looking at him, feeling him.

  I reach down to catch him, stroking his velvety length with both hands so I can cup him tight enough to make him suck in that sharp little breath between his teeth, the way I love making him do… But he catches my wrists and pulls them back. Pins them behind me in one hand, so I’m straddling him with my hands behind my back.

  “You know what I like best about having you on top of me?” Jasper asks. With his other hand, he pushes my shirt up. Frees my breasts from my bra, one after the other, and leans in to bite and suck at my nipples until I cry out faintly, both nipples hard at his touch. Then he pulls me back again, and reaches down to grip his cock instead. “I love watching you ride my fat cock.”

  He positions me over his tip, and eases
me down against him, until the spongy tip of his cock spreads my pussy lips and pauses at my entrance, poised there, waiting. He circles his cock against me, teasing. I can feel myself getting wetter, and my clit positively throbs with desire.

  “Let me ride you, Jasper.”

  “Not yet.” He arches a brow. “First, I want to know what we’re really doing here.”

  I suck in another breath. Damn. He knows me too well. “What do you mean?” I try to keep my voice light, even. “I wanted to fuck you out here, Jasper.”

  “I know.” He grins, a dark, playful slash. “And I’ll fuck you, Dee. But first, you tell me what else you’re hiding. You didn’t tell all the employees to go home just for this, did you? Because…” He reaches down to stroke my clit with one thumb, slow and circular, the motion driving me wild.

  I buck against him, but he’s still holding my hands behind my back, both my wrists in one of his hands, making it impossible for me to go far.

  “That would be very naughty indeed, wife.” Then, without warning, he stops. Stops stroking my clit, and eases away from me so the tip of his cock isn’t pressed against my entrance anymore.

  “Okay,” I pant, capitulating. “Okay, I wanted to surprise you, after the hooking up… But…” His thumb glides back to my clit and I let out a faint little groan of pleasure. “But I’ll show you now.” I twist one hand in his, and arch a brow. He releases me, and I sit up, just far enough to reach behind me to the glove compartment. I pop it, and withdraw the gift-wrapped, slender box I hid in there.

  “For you, husband.” I pass it to him with a grin.

  He arches a brow at me, clearly confused. Then he undoes the ribbon around the package, and peels it open. Inside is a simple white stick. But that stick makes his eyebrows shoot up and his jaw drop. “Is this…?” He picks it up. Turns it over.

  On the other side of the stick is a little red plus sign. “Oh my God,” he whispers.

  “Congratulations, Daddy,” I murmur, positively beaming now.

  Jasper lets out a shout of joy, then grabs me and pulls me down into a hard kiss. When we break apart again, happiness shines from his eyes. “Dee, oh my God. We’re going to have a baby.”

  “We’re going to have a baby,” I agree, and kiss him again, and again. I lose track of myself in his mouth, his lips, his tongue tracing the edges of mine, familiar and invigorating all at once.

  This time, when he pulls me back across his hips, he doesn’t tease me. He glides right into me, his cock stretching and filling my pussy, making me gasp aloud at the sensation of feeling whole. A feeling I get whenever I’m with him, and especially when he’s inside me, completing me like this. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and rock against him, savoring the thickness and length of him, the heat of his mouth where he kisses my neck, my jawline, my collarbone. His tongue flicks across my clavicle, traces the edges of my neck, and he nips along my ear gently, just hard enough to make me gasp and twist in his arms.

  Finally, when he’s had enough of teasing me, he grips my hips in his strong hands and holds me in place over his body. He thrusts up into me, fucking me hard, and I rock down against him, riding him for all I’m worth. I glance down between us to watch the sight of his thick cock plunging into my pussy. That’s when he lifts a hand to my belly. Holds it there against me as he continues to thrust up into me, and I press my hand down over his, eyes half shut with pleasure and joy and all the other conflicting emotions rioting through me at once.

  We come at the same time, both of our cries sharp in the tight car, and I collapse across him, the windows around us fogged by now, blocking us even farther from anyone’s sight beyond. He leans the seat back, and I lie along him, savoring the sweet ache between my legs, the fullness of feeling in my belly, and the way our breath mingles, our chests rising and falling in sync as he holds me in his arms, protective and nurturing all at once.

  “I can’t believe it,” he finally whispers, after a long moment of silence, and he reaches down to kiss the top of my head, his lips lingering against my hair for a moment.

  “You’re going to be a father,” I whisper back, leaning up to catch his eye and smile. “And a fucking great one at that, if your own father is anyone to judge by.” I allow for a wry smile. “The insistence on his need for grandchildren aside.”

  Jasper laughs, his chest vibrating pleasantly underneath me with the sound of it. “And you’re going to be the best mother around, Dee. I just know it.” His arms slip down to my waist. He kisses my forehead, my cheeks, one after the other, then the tip of my nose. Then my lips, soft and sweet. “I can’t wait to meet our little race car driver.”

  I snort out a laugh. “Um, our little race car designer, thank you very much. She’ll take after me in the career department.”

  “She? You don’t think he’ll be the next speed devil in a long line of his father’’ speed demon family?”

  We both grin and shake our heads. “Either way,” I say.

  “I can’t wait to see what the future brings,” Jasper whispers. “And I’m so lucky that I have you in my life, to face that future with.”

  We’re silent for another long moment, then distracted by more kisses, our hands trailing over one another’s bodies. Jasper flips me over beneath him, and his hands wander down my hips, before he pauses, a laugh catching him by surprise.

  I tilt my head and arch one brow. “What’s so funny?”

  “I was just thinking. If it’s a boy, maybe we ought to name him after the person responsible for getting us together in the first place.”

  I snort. But I don’t hate the idea, either. “Baby Greg?” I arch one brow. “He’d probably hate us for it.”

  “He’d claim to, but deep down I think he’d secretly love it.” Jasper laughs. “I do have a lot to thank him for, at the end of the day.” Jasper cups my cheek and turns my face toward his. Then he tucks back a stray hair from my forehead. “I have him to thank for my entire life, now, Dee. Because you… you’re not just my wife. You’re my whole world.”

  “And you’re mine,” I whisper. Together, we fall back into the kiss. This time, when Jasper begins to harden against my thigh, I spread my legs wide and wrap them around his waist. Let him lie down along me, as we get to work steaming up the windows of this car again.

  In this moment, I realize… I couldn’t ask for anything else in life. I have everything I’ve ever dreamed of and more.

  * * *

  Thank you for reading!

  * * *

  Dirty. Powerful. Protective. Ready to meet the Logan brothers?

  Here is a bonus excerpt of FLIRT, the first standalone in the Dirty Brothers series. You can one-click on Amazon now!

  * * *

  Chapter One

  Driving through the town I grew up in is surreal. I haven’t been back here in years. Everything looks exactly the same. I drive by my old high school. The exact same banner announcing prom is hung out front. It’s as though I’ve stepped back in time, back to when I had a crush on the wealthy bad boy, when he snuck over to my house to make out the night of my sister’s prom.

  Next time someone warns me about the bad boy in town, I’ll be sure to listen.

  I’m thinking of old times when a car speeds past me. The roar of the souped-up motor scares the shit out of me and my car hops the curb, spilling my coffee down the front of my white shirt.

  “Sonofabitch,” I say and grit my teeth against the burn. I throw my middle finger out the window. Good thing the coffee wasn’t fresh. It’s still hot enough to be uncomfortable against my skin, though. I look toward the car which is now just a blue speck in the distance. It’s too far away now to see a license plate, or even the make of the car. From the short glimpse I got of it, it looked expensive. Probably some insecure little man trying to overcompensate for something he lacks downstairs. Needless to say, I’m pissed.

  There’s nothing I can do about it now but cuss and complain to myself the entire way to my father’s bakery. I didn’t want
to come back in the first place, but now I’m really in a bad mood and want to be here even less.

  The little bell above the bakery door jingles as I walk in. There’s no one else in the front. Business obviously isn’t booming. The place could use a coat of paint and new furniture.

  My dad is probably in the back of the store. I’m supposed to meet my sister here to try and help my dad out of a financial bind he’s gotten himself into. I guess it’s a good thing she’s always late. I can use this time to get the stain out of my shirt and look halfway presentable.

  I head toward the back of the bakery down a long hall toward the unisex bathroom. Inside, I look in the mirror and realize it’s worse than I thought. I take the shirt off. I probably shouldn’t have worn this turquoise bra underneath it. It’s ill-fitting as well. The tops of my breasts spill out of the cups. I’m all cleavage. I was in a rush when I left and couldn’t find another clean bra so I wore what was available.

  I scrub the stain with the powdered soap from the dispenser and hope for the best. I get most of the stain out. I’m drying the shirt under the hand dryer when the door swings open. I yelp in surprise and drop my shirt to the floor.

  I’m surprised and confused at first seeing the person in the doorway, but then I look into a set of eyes as blue as a summer sky and my heart skitters. I’ve only seen eyes that blue on one person and they belonged to a ghost from my past. And here he is again, back to haunt me.

  I scramble to put my shirt back on. It’s still wet and clings to me like a second skin. There’s nothing I can do about it. I try to hide my breasts the best I can but my cleavage is more than my little hands can handle.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” I snap at him.

  Thomas Logan’s large body fills the doorway

  in a suit that belongs on the runways of New York—not in the suburbs of Boston. How is it possible that he looks better than he did in high school? It’s been ten years since I’ve seen him last. Why can’t he be bald or fat? Instead he looks like some kind of super hero trying—and failing miserably—to blend in with the rest of the world. It’s not difficult to tell the body of a Greek god is concealed under those expensive clothes. His dark hair is meticulous, his face smooth and angular, chiseled to perfection. I can’t believe it’s really him.