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Only One Bed: A Steamy Romance Anthology Vol 1 (Romancing The Trope)

Page 3

by Lucy Eden


  “No, but I do now.” I sighed in between moans.

  “I want to learn every inch of you.” He swirled his tongue around my navel, making me squirm in anticipation, before dragging it further south. I reached for the button of my shorts before Julian stopped me. “No, baby. Let me. You just relax.”

  I leaned back and my head sank into the pillow while I gazed up into the clear blue summer sky, visible through the tall trees. Julian pulled my shorts and panties over my hips. I felt my belly clench and my heart race with every gentle graze of his fingertips on my skin. My body was fully aware and accepting of this welcome but unexpected turn of events, but my brain was having trouble processing the fact that Julian Harris’ lips were actually kissing my belly. Julian Harris’ fingers were actually gripping the soft flesh behind my knees to pull my leg out of my shorts. Julian Harris had just called me his baby and he wanted me just as badly as I wanted him for all these years.

  “Damn,” he whispered right before I felt him press the first kiss on my inner thigh. Before I could fully process what was happening, Julian had tossed my leg over his shoulder and was devouring me like I was his last meal. His lips and tongue were everywhere between my thighs, making me whimper and shudder. I rocked my hips back and forth as the pressure built. Julian used his fingers to push me over the edge. My eyes squeezed shut and I grunted in ecstasy and surprise. “Fuck, Dee Fuck that’s so good,” he said in a low growl after he made me come the first time. He soothed my sensitive clit with feather light passes of his tongue and gentle kisses.

  When my spasming subsided, he crawled off of the bed of the truck, took off his pants and boxers before crawling back onto the bed and laying beside me.

  “Hey,” I whispered.

  “You good?” he replied and I nodded, pulling our faces together so I could taste my pleasure on his lips. Our lips separated with a faint pop and I grinned at him.

  “What now?”

  “Sit on my face,” he whispered.

  “Sit on your face? But you just—”

  Julian stopped me with a look that said do you really wanna argue about this? I straddled his face and leaned forward so I was in the perfect position to return the favor. I used one hand to balance my weight as Jules’ tongue threatened to send me to another oblivion and used the other hand to wrap around his shaft. Julian’s dick was as gorgeous as the rest of him. It was long, thick and the same shade of smooth dark brown as the rest of his body. His pubic hair was short and neatly groomed. After licking my lips, I leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on his tip. Julian’s tongue froze mid-stroke.

  “Fuck, Dee,” he hissed. Encouraged, I slid the entire tip in my mouth and sucked. “Shit,” he said in a heavy sigh. I took more of him into my mouth.

  Julian squeezed my thighs with his large hands and groaned as I rocked back and forth taking more of him between my lips with each return. Soon, I found a rhythm. My fist, slick with my saliva, pumped and twisted the base of his cock while I sucked and slurped at the head and the part of his shaft I could fit into my mouth without choking. Julian moaned and twisted under my attention.

  He’d mostly forgotten what he was doing between my legs, occasionally rewarding me with a lick here and a kiss there. But that’s exactly what I wanted. I wanted him distracted and out of his mind. He needed to know how good I could be for him, how good we could be together.

  “I’m gonna come, baby. I’m gonna come,” he grunted in a frenzied moan.

  “Good,” I whispered before I started to suck again. I moved one of my hands to gently fondle his balls. I lightly dragged my fingernails over the puckered sack and that was all it took. He exploded into my mouth and his fingers dug into the flesh of my thighs. I swallowed the two thick ropes of cum Jules shot into my mouth. I climbed off of him and he pulled me into his arms. I snuggled into him and draped a leg over his body. Julian kissed the top of my head and covered us with another blanket.

  “Yo, is this real?” He chuckled and kissed the side of my head again. “Like, did this really happen?”

  “I hope so.” I smoothed my palm over his pecs.

  “Hey Jules…”

  “Yeah?”

  “Do you think we have time to use one of those condoms before the tow truck comes?”

  “Definitely, beautiful.” He squeezed me into him and kissed me. “But I’m gonna need like ten minutes.”

  Four

  We spent the next hour and a half using three condoms in three different positions before we collapsed naked, sweaty and exhausted, tangled in the blankets and gasping for breath.

  “Wow,” I said.

  “Wow,” he agreed.

  “You know how some couples,” I propped my head up on my elbow to face him, “have great emotional chemistry, but the sex is trash or they have amazing sex but they have nothing to talk about?”

  “I’ve heard of such couples, yes.” He leaned forward and planted a kiss on my nose. “Why?”

  “I don’t think that will be us.”

  “I know it won’t.” He grinned and smoothed a palm over my ass. “You’re perfect.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “You’re perfect for me.”

  “I think you’re perfect for me, too.”

  His grip on my waist tightened and we kissed for a long time.

  “I just had sex with thee, Nadirah Westin, outside, in the back of my truck.”

  “Well, I just had sex with thee, Julian Harris, outside, in the back of your truck.” I hooked my leg around his waist and used it to pull him closer. He closed a hand around one of my breasts and kissed me again.

  “We should get dressed, beautiful. The tow truck should be here soon.”

  “Ugh. Do we have to?” I groaned. “Can we just live in this truck and become forest people?”

  Julian let out a deep belly laugh. “Listen, if we miss this wedding, we wouldn’t have a choice. Going off the grid might be our only chance of staying alive.”

  “You’re probably right.”

  He retrieved a box of baby wipes from the truck box and we cleaned each other before getting dressed. It felt so natural. We were caring for each other, like we always have and I hoped we always would.

  Julian and I stretched out on the blanket and in each other’s arms watching the clouds float across the sky as we waited for the tow truck. I was originally supposed to be at the resort by noon for a bridal party luncheon, but hopefully we could make in time for the rehearsal dinner at seven with a couple of hours to spare.

  “So what do you want to do about the wedding?” Julian asked when we were about a half hour away from the resort. The tow truck was able to pull Julian’s pick up out of the mud. A nearby repair shop replaced the two tires and we were on our way. We could hear Wendy fussing in the background when we called Marcus to tell him about our unplanned delay.

  “Well, I was hoping we could skip the wedding and spend all weekend in your room?”

  “That sounds like a plan.” Julian smiled and reached for my hand. “But I meant, do you want to tell our families right away or keep this to ourselves for a while?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it. How do you think our families will react?” I slid my palm over his and interlocked our fingers.

  “Baby, we’re grown. I don’t care what our families want. I just want you. But I also want you to be comfortable. So, I’m good with whatever you decide.”

  “I don’t wanna hide our…whatever this is. What is this?”

  “I was hoping for a relationship? Best friends, lovers, partners, a team?” He raised his eyebrows.

  “I’d like that.” I grinned at him and I felt my eyes sting with tears. “I don’t want to hide either, but maybe we should wait until after the wedding?”

  He nodded and pulled our hands to his lips and kissed my fingers.

  The gravel crunched under our tires as we came to a stop in the parking lot of the resort. We unbuckled our seat belts and turned to face each other.


  “How do I look?”

  “Like you spent two hours getting fucked within an inch of your life in the back of a pick up truck,” he said and I burst out laughing. “What about me?”

  “Well, you’re definitely wearing a lot more lipstick than you had on when you picked me up.” I reached out and brushed the pad of my thumb over his bottom lip. His lips puckered at my touch.

  “Listen.” He reached out and brushed his palm across my cheek before wrapping his fingers around my neck. “I know this might feel like it came out of nowhere and we’re going from zero to sixty but for me it feels like making up for lost time. I’m ten toes down. I’m all the way in with you.” He used his thumb to brush away a tear that rolled down my cheek.

  “Me too,” I whispered. “So what happens when we get back to New York?”

  “I don’t know but I’m guessing a lot of that.” He jerked his head at the back window, indicating the bed of the truck. I laughed and bit my lip. “Whatever you want. You can stay in your student housing or you can move in with me in DUMBO. We can travel. We can stay home and read books or watch Netflix. As long as we’re together, I don’t care.”

  “That sounds amazing.” I reached out, wrapped my arms around his neck, and pulled him close.

  “I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you, Nadirah.”

  “I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you too, Julian.”

  He closed the distance between our lips.

  “What the fuck?!”

  I wasn’t sure how long we were kissing before we heard Wendy’s screech, but we looked up to see her and Marcus standing next to our parents. Julian’s parents and brother were there as well. We had an entire welcome party waiting at the entrance of the resort.

  “So much for waiting.” I shrugged. Jules smiled at me before hopping out of the truck and jogging over to my side to help me get down. We clasped hands and walked towards our families.

  “So, how long has this been going on?” Marcus asked Julian. His expression was unreadable.

  “It’s kinda new,” Julian responded, with the same blank expression. They looked each other up and down before Marc’s face spread with a giant grin and he wrapped Julian in a hug. “It’s about fucking time.”

  “Well, don’t even think about doing any dumb shit like getting engaged at our reception.” Wendy crossed her arms and pursed her lips. “But yeah, it was pretty obvious that you two were going to get together at some point. I’m happy for you.” She wrapped her arms around my shoulders and air kissed me because she’d already had her make up done for the rehearsal dinner.

  Our parents were equally enthusiastic and my dad joked about still having his shotgun. Julian hugged his brother before he grabbed our bags from the truck.

  “So that went better than I expected.”

  “It did.” He switched both bags to one arm and reached for my hand. “What do you want to do now?”

  “Well, we have to get ready for the rehearsal dinner, but I’m available if you need help tying your tie.” I shot him a sly smile and he squeezed my hand.

  “Definitely.”

  About The Author

  Lucy Eden

  Lucy Eden is the nom de plume of a romance-obsessed author who writes the kind of romance she loves to read. She’s a sucker for alphas with a soft gooey center, over the top romantic gestures, strong & smart MCs, humor, love at first sight (or pretty damn close), happily ever afters & of course, dirty & steamy love scenes.

  When Lucy isn't writing, she's busy reading--or listening to--every book she can get her hands on-- romance or otherwise.

  She lives & loves in New York with her husband, two children, a turtle & a Yorkshire Terrier.

  More Books by Lucy Eden

  Blind Date With A Book Boyfriend

  Everything’s Better With Lisa

  About Only One Flower Bed

  Seven years ago Grant Sinclair left his small town of Plenty, Georgia, to chase his dreams of achieving a degree, traveling, and of owning a business. But when Grant left home to chase after all that good, he left behind more than good.

  He left behind the first man he ever loved.

  Remi Wilson.

  Now he’s back and Grant won’t give up on Remi even if the other man is bent on being as bitter as unsweet tea.

  Only One Flower Bed is an angsty second chance M/M romance that’s a little hotter than not, but definitely not lacking in the sweet.

  Only One Flower Bed

  Rebel Carter

  Grant Sinclair squatted down and squinted at the leafy vines growing happily in their loamy home. He reached out and pulled back a few leaves to examine the new fruit. It had been over a month now since he’d tilled this patch of land and seeded it with cantaloupes. The fruit was well suited to the Georgia climate, the warm weather and soil ensured it would thrive. It was far tamer than some of the plants, trees, and fruits Grant had taken to growing lately for his small but upscale clientele.

  Plenty, Georgia, was a small town, with deep roots; founded in the mid-eighteenth century, Plenty’s citizens were a proud, stubborn but welcoming group that liked to stay put. When you came to Plenty you were accepted wholly and that meant few were of a mind to leave. Many of the current families went generations deep, Grant’s family was one such example of deep roots and little movement.

  At least until Grant.

  Although his leaving hadn’t been for long. He’d graduated along with his friends and spent a year or two living and working, thinking a little on the future and realized he wanted something slightly different than what Plenty had to offer. Or rather he wanted what it offered but just more and different.

  If Grant had stayed in Plenty, he would have probably been working on the nearby docks helping maintain the boats his family owned for their shrimping business, hell, he might have even become a cop, a familiar face to those he’d grown up alongside of.

  But Grant hadn’t wanted that. He looked down at the green leaves under his fingers and twisted one curling it back before he buried his other in the dark soil. He scooped a handful of it in his palm and squeezed it tightly making a fist, a sigh escaping the big man with a shudder.

  Grant had wanted this. Plants in front of him and dirt in his hands. He wanted to know what made green things thrive and he wanted to give that to people, but it was a skill and a knowledge he’d had to leave home for. He’d gone to school in Athens for four years, got his bachelors in horticulture, and then set off taking jobs wherever he could, saving and learning as he went until he would be able to do the thing he wanted most--open his own business.

  He glanced behind his back at the greenhouse, the large structure imposing and standing in sharp relief to the green woods that seemed to be pushing forward, ever reaching into the land he had cleared for his business.

  Sinclair & Co. Horticulture. He was the ‘Sinclair’, his family the ‘& Co.’

  They hadn’t been thrilled in his choice to leave but damned if they hadn’t tried to support him at every turn. The land he was building on had once been his grandaddy’s, deeded to him at the start of last year so that he could “Get rollin’ already,” as his grandaddy had explained in his will. Sitting in rumpled clothing from the red-eye he’d caught from Los Angeles, Grant had hardly been able to stop the laugh in the lawyer’s office, Mr. Oliveres, a family friend and a man that had known Grant since he could crawl. His grandaddy had chosen the man for a reason, he wouldn’t have wanted a stranger with his family. Not after he was gone and Grant was thankful for it. They could hear the old man in the lawyer’s dictation and they shared a smile of knowing.

  “Guess you’ll have to come home,” Mr. Oliveres had observed looking at Grant over the rim of his reading glasses.

  “Guess I will,” Grant conceded leaning back in the leather chair with a sigh and a nod. “Guess so.”

  City life didn’t agree with him, never had, but it’d been a means to an end---that end being a life and business in Plenty. The move home had be
en relatively easy. Grant had been welcomed back with open arms and slaps on the back and more than one too many invitations for a cold one at the pool hall. It had been like he’d never left and to be honest, he’d been ready for the move back and most folks had been excited to see him.

  The rumble of thunder overhead reminded him that it was due to rain today and he stood from his crouch, wiping his hands on his worn jeans. He had a good deal more to do today before the rain came and taking a journey down memory lane wasn’t one of them. The thunder grew louder and he stopped looking up at the sky to see that it remained the same overcast gray it had been all morning and afternoon. Still the sound grew louder and Grant turned, searching the sky for the source of the noise. He sighed, hands going to his hips and stared off into the horizon. The storm shouldn’t be here until the evening so what was that deafening---

  A beat-up blue truck came into sight and Grant went still. He knew that truck, the familiar chrome of the hubcaps, the curve of the hood Grant knew was sturdier than it looked, the almost sky blue paint job that should have been repainted years ago.

  And then there was the driver.

  The dark-haired, most likely scowling sonofabitch at the wheel that was none other than Remington Wilson.

  Hands still at his hips, Grant’s fingers squeezed his sides almost painfully when he was offered a clearer view of Remi’s face. He was indeed scowling, and he was just as handsome as ever.

  If the move back home had been easy and everyone being glad to see him had made Grant think his decision to return to Plenty fated, then the sight of Remi seemed single-handedly determined to send Grant running. There was nothing easy about Remi. Never had been, but that didn’t mean Grant hadn’t tried.

  Didn’t still try.

  It was why he had thought of none other than Wilsons’ to fulfill his monthly supplies. Remi’s family ran the hardware store and keeping business local was key to Plenty’s ability to thrive and survive with big box stores and the damned internet slashing prices meant to drive small businesses into the dirt. Everyone in town had done their part to keep Wilsons’ going, just like they did for all the locally owned businesses. Plenty wasn’t about to let their small town vanish under the heel of new development. Grant had made sure every dollar spent had gone right into local pockets and Wilsons’ had been the only choice that made sense for his business---except that somehow that came attached with twice a month visits of scowling Remi Wilson bent on making the encounter as uncomfortable and prickly as it ever had a need to be.

 

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