Accidentally Bound: An Accidental Marriage Romance, page 13
“You like?”
I nodded, speechless that she would do this. For me. I was always the one who initiated sex and I figured she went along with it simply because of her desire but this time, knowing she did this thinking of me. Knowing that I would like it, had me hard and aching and thinking about things I probably shouldn’t. “Hell yeah I fucking like.” The words came out on a growl as I dropped down on my haunches to get a better look. “So much.”
“Mason, the food.”
I grinned and blew a breath between her thighs, watching as her head fell back and a sexy sigh came out. “There’s a timer.” Besides I had a plan now that I knew she was thinking of me as she got dressed. I grabbed her legs and placed them over my shoulder, the scent of her arousal wafting up and making my mouth water. I put my mouth on her sweet pussy, kissing her in a proper make out session while she squirmed and cried my name.
“Mase,” she moaned and I pulled her clit with my tongue and sucked, bringing on a long, strong orgasm in just two minutes.
Yeah, I was that good. Even after her orgasm, Trish continued to grind against me and I was happy to lap her up and lick her until the timer sounded.
“A man who cooks and works his tongue magic while dinner cooks? You’re like a unicorn,” she laughed. “Careful Mason, I might want to keep you.”
“Keep dressing like that for dinner and I just might keep you, Cupcake.”
She snorted a laugh like this was all some big damn joke. “Everyone knows you don’t do commitment.”
“Says who?” Why did I even let it bother me? I don’t know, only that I did. “Have I been with anyone since we’ve been together? No, I haven’t. Have I given you reason to doubt me or my fidelity? No. Dammit.” So much for showing her through my actions. A homecooked meal counts for shit if you yell at her before she eats, at least I was pretty sure that’s how relationships worked.
Trish sighed, looking genuinely sorry as I placed the skirt of her dress around her knees neatly. “Other than this recent turnaround of feelings, no you have never given me a reason to doubt you. I apologize about the commitment comment, it wasn’t fair.”
“And you’re a fine one to talk.”
She reared back and crossed her legs, and yeah, even though we were fighting I took a quick glimpse. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. Everyone thinks I don’t do commitment because I haven’t dated anyone seriously since I moved here, which is less than a year ago. But you haven’t dated anyone in that time either so you must have commitment problems too.”
She thought about my words a moment, burying her face in the refilled wine glass to collect her thoughts. “Okay, maybe you have a point but that doesn’t change the fact that you barely tolerate me outside the bedroom, Mase.”
She was fighting this. Scared and fighting it. But for some reason, I wasn’t. This might not turn into anything but it could be something good for however long it lasted, if she was willing. I turned my gaze on her as timer sounded, rounding the counter to pull the baking dish from the oven. It helped to put some distance between us because I was going to give my cupcake some harsh truths. “You mean how we eat meals together and watch tv together, all without fucking each other’s brains out? Or how you kicked my ass at pool? Or how you laid on the sofa and slept with your sweet little pussy on display and all I did was massage your head while you slept?”
She paled and I hated it, but she needed to hear it. “Shit. You’re right. I-I-I’m sorry, Mase.”
She didn’t even realize she was so comfortable with me that she no longer used my full name. Hadn’t for weeks. “Don’t worry about it, Cupcake. I thought we were doing this but I guess I was wrong.” Dammit, I hated being wrong. Especially about this. Trish was more than the uptight good girl I thought she was but she didn’t see me any differently.
“We were, I mean we are. I’m just…hell, I don’t know.” She stopped and looked up at me. “How about an apology blow job to make up for it?”
But damn, maybe I could really love this girl. “I won’t say no to having your lips wrapped around me. Not ever.” My dick twitched at the thought of those lips on him, standing up and taking notice of the situation.
“Good to know,” she said mysteriously, licking those thick lips until I groaned.
* * *
I had just buttoned my jeans when the bell rang. Figuring it was Magenta, I left my shirt in the bedroom because it never got old to mess with your kid sister. Especially when she was a pain in the ass like Mags. But I was the one who got the surprise. “Ladies. Is Trish expecting you?”
“Damn,” Vivi said in a white whisper as she leaned in towards Maddie. “No wonder we can’t find her these days. She’s getting banged to within an inch of her life.”
“Lucky girl,” Maddie snickered. “Who knew he was hiding all this?” She gestured at my bare chest and both women were seconds away from drooling on the porch.
“Ladies, come on, this is weird. I know your husbands.” I was used to women appreciating my looks and my body, just not women married to my friends.
Vivi shrugged but at least Maddie had the good grace to look a little embarrassed. “So are you going to let us in or do you need to unchain Trish from the bed first?”
Right. Manners, I forgot about those with these two around. “She’s in the kitchen.” And it looked like our plans for tonight were on hold. “Cupcake you have visitors.”
“Aww, isn’t that pet name adorable?” Maddie sounded like she was about to swoon and I decided to go in search of a shirt.
I got dressed, completely, and joined the women in the kitchen. “What did I miss?”
“The last train for the coast?” Vivi’s lips twitched at her joke but she was up on her feet, hands on my back and pushing me towards the door. “Sorry to kick you out but tonight is a girl’s night. A belated impromptu bridal shower for Trish. Mags is on her way and we want our gifts to be a surprise. For you.”
“Now you’re talkin’ my language,” I told her honestly.
“Now I get it, though. Why Trish wouldn’t want a stripper. Would you mind staying for a few dances?” Maddie flushed at her question.
“Maddie, I’m shocked. What would Zeke say?”
She looked at Trish and then Vivi and laughed. “He’d be upset that we didn’t ask him first.”
Yep, that sounded like Zeke. “All right, I’m out of here. Have a good time ladies and call if you need a ride home.” I knew there would be drinking and probably a lot of it so it felt like it needed to be said.
Mags snickered on the other side of the door when I opened it. “That’s his way of telling us he’ll drive us home before he lets us cockblock him tonight. Apparently he’s rather insatiable,” she said and pretended to vomit all over Trish’s floors.
“Brat.”
“Horn dog.”
She wasn’t wrong and I turned, offering a farewell wave to each of the ladies, sparing a frown for my sister before I stepped in front of Trish. “See you later, Cupcake.” I brushed a soft, sensual kiss right on her lips in front of her friends because I wanted her thinking about me while I was gone. When the door closed there was silence, for about half a second, before they erupted in squeals and giggles.
Women, I would never understand them.
Since I was at loose ends, I went in search of Nash and Zeke, finding them where they were when they were together, Nash’s backyard. “Is this just a party for two or can anyone join?”
“Not anyone,” Zeke laughed. “Just a special few.”
“Come on in, man. Want a beer?” Nash pointed to the cooler beside the porch and I grabbed one before taking a seat on the empty lounger across from them. “What brings you by?”
“I was kicked out thanks to a belated impromptu bridal shower,” I told them and twisted the cap off my beer, taking three long pulls. It wasn’t as good as the craft stuff Trish bought, but would get the job done. “What’s new?”
“Oh no, my friend.” Zeke kicked up his feet and crossed his legs at the ankle. “You just got married to a woman I’m pretty sure was your sworn enemy. What’s new with you?”
I should have known. “Not you guys too?”
Nash shrugged and took a long pull from his beer. “First of all, this is a small town. Second, the wives will kill us if we don’t have some info from his side.”
I nodded, not really understanding their point of view but hey they were married, by accident, and their women chose to stay married to them. So I finished off my beer and spilled everything from the second, or was it third-hand story from Crosby and Kerry? I told them all about her freak out on the judge’s doorstep and her reluctance do anything but have sex.
“Wait, Trish? Sweet little baker girl Trish just wanted to bang your eyes out and you had a problem with it?” Zeke’s eyes were so wide I was sure they were seconds away from popping out of his skull. “Wow.”
“I didn’t have a problem with it, but I also wasn’t going to put on a show for the town and then turn around be enemies behind closed doors.” That was some of it, anyway.
“Okay, so how did you change her mind?”
I told them. All of it. “And she agreed.”
“Holy shit man, I have to try that on Vivi,” Nash said, awe in his voice.
“Are you kidding? She’s a romance writer, the whole scene will appear in her latest novel.” Zeke whistled and leaned back, smug as hell. “But I’m going to try it too. I want a new deck and Maddie is dead set against it.”
“She’s doing it but Trish thinks I’m a bad bet. That I have commitment issues.”
“She’s making excuses,” Nash said easily. “It’s what women do when they’re scared. You just have to change her mind.”
“It’s true,” Zeke added with a smirk. “We both went through it and now you are too. Change her mind. Show her you’re not who she thinks you are.”
“Because deep down, she already knows. Trish wouldn’t have agreed if she didn’t think you were a good guy, no matter how good your oral skills are.” I trusted Nash because he’d known Trish since she moved to Belle Musique as a child.
“So that’s it, just show her?”
Zeke and Nash looked at each other and laughed. “It’s not as easy as it sounds. Women, particularly the scared little rabbit variety tend to require a bit of convincing. And trust me,” Zeke said with an air of authority. “Save the grand gestures for the big fuck ups. Right now you need the little, everyday things to show you care.”
“And then you’ll have an easy job convincing her to stay married.”
I didn’t want to betray Trish’s trust so I just shrugged. “I don’t know if I want that.”
The fuckers, they laughed again. “You do,” they said simultaneously.
Nash got up and retrieved three more beers for each of us and I drank while I listened to their ideas on how to win Trish over. When Zeke got up for the next round, I listened to their stories of winning their women and I laughed.
And I felt a little intimidated. “Sexy photos,” Nash advised. “Not naked or fully naked anyway, just sexy. Hot enough that she’ll be thinking about you all day long.”
That was a good idea and I tucked it away for later before I changed the subject to something that had nothing to do with me. Beer and women and business. By the time I left on wobbly legs, Nash pushed me into the passenger seat of his car and took me home where I switched spots with the women.
“Hey Cupcake, you have fun?”
She nodded and wrapped her arms around me. “I did. Smells like you did too. Let’s get you up to bed.”
“Yes, please. I love bed with you, Cupcake.”
She laughed, undressed me and tucked me into bed before climbing in beside me. But even a little tipsy, I couldn’t resist the feel of her soft tits pressed up against me, her creamy thighs brushing against my rougher ones. “You’re all warm and hard,” she moaned against me.
And with those low growled words I turned to her and spent the rest of the night licking and kissing her skin all over. Okay, not all night. I made it between her thighs and stayed there for hours and hours, until Trish ran out of orgasms.
It was almost morning by the time that happened. My girl, no, my wife was feeling good. Even if she couldn’t walk.
Trish
The phone in my pocket buzzed for the fifth time in as many minutes and I had no idea who it was because no one ever texted me. Ever. Okay, rarely. Belle Musique was small enough that a message would get relayed to me or my friends would just come into the shop. But I’d just sold the last two dozen muffins and it wasn’t even lunch yet so the store had finally emptied out. “If you want cupcakes or muffins, come back in thirty minutes but sixty would be better.”
With a groan the four latecomers took their coffees and left, leaving the shop empty. Peacefully so. Another final glance around the shop and I slipped my phone from my pocket and unlocked the screen. Oh holy hot damn! It was a photo of a shirtless man with indecently low jeans. I knew that torso and those tattoos well. Hell I even knew the color of those nipples and I had to snap my mouth closed to prevent the drool from seeping out.
It was no secret that Mason was hot but sometimes, in moments like this, it still knocked the damn wind out of me. The man was drool-worthy and right now, for the moment, he was all mine. But what I couldn’t figure out, the thing that niggled at me all morning, heck all week if I’m being honest is why.
What was with all the effort? Not that I didn’t appreciate it, because I did and I sent him a tongue sticking out emoji, several eggplants and a dozen drooling ones. It was all I could manage, even via text message.
I wanted to overanalyze it. I wanted it to mean something just as much as the thought terrified me. I was confused.
And I was going with it. Unlocking the screen again, I tapped the phone button and grinned when Mason picked it up. “Is that a picture of my lunch?”
I heard the sound of him swallowing down the line. “If you want it to be.”
Oh I wanted it to be. I wanted it to be a lot. I was insatiable for Mason and the fact that he couldn’t seem to get enough of me only made me want him more. Feeling desirable and cherished was a heady, addictive experience, and the thought of ending this thing between us made me feel sad. And feeling sad made me feel angry because Mason wasn’t for me, and as much as he’d proven to me that he was more than a man-slut, more than a commitmentphobe, I knew we couldn’t make it. “I do.”
“I’ll be there in five,” he said and ended the call and leaned against the cool metal of the swinging door to cool my overheated skin. It shouldn’t always be like this, not with a guy I couldn’t have.
It all seemed so unfair, that after all the internal lessons I’d battered into my brain, I’d fallen for the world’s wrongest man. In love with a bad boy, a tattoo artist.
On a highway to certain heartbreak.
“Oh my god, what is that?” Something awful hit my nose, a terrible, disgusting blend of coffee and anchovies which was weird since none of today’s sandwiches came with anchovy. “Ugh, stop saying anchovy!” It was too late for any of that to work but luckily my feet were smarter, moving towards the bathroom to dump out the contents of my stomach. “God, that was rank!”
I spent the next ten minutes searching the kitchen for the stinky culprit only to come up empty. The coffee pot was empty and cleaned thanks to Molly and as I suspected, there were no anchovies to be found.
Still, the smell lingered and I couldn’t get rid of it and the closer I drew to the trash can, the more moisture gathered in my mouth until it was all coming out. Again. My stomach clenched as my throat contracted with every heave of my empty stomach.
“Oh shit, you really are pregnant.”
That voice didn’t sound happy or thrilled, mostly shocked with a little hint of disappointment. I turned to Mason with a narrow eyed glare. “You don’t have to seem so horrified about it, Mason.” When he wouldn’t move, would speak, I rushed past him and left my own damn shop.
Nothing was certain but the doom that settled in my belly told me I had my answer.
Which meant there was only one thing left to do. Get that quickie divorce.
Mason
Never in my life had I ever been so happy to be wrong. More importantly this was the first time in my life I was grateful, happy even, to be wrong. It helped that Trish was the one who’d been right about our efforts at divorce and yeah, it helped even more that the moment she’d attempted to file—which wasn’t all that great, mind you—the lawyers Dallas and his daughter Della McInnis had vanished. Okay maybe not vanished, per se, but they’d become impossible to pin down.
They had no available appointments, wouldn’t even squeeze her in for a five minute consultation and even the newest lawyer in town, Olivia Robichaud, said she didn’t handle divorces, odd considering her specialty was family law.
Maybe it made me a dick to appreciate it so much, but I’d unintentionally fucked up everything, royally so and I had every intention on making it up to her. Somehow.
I’d had three days of stone cold silence to think long and hard about what I’d done and what I needed to do to fix it. Trish, to her credit, hadn’t kicked me out yet, careful not to draw attention from the town busybodies. But she had locked the bedroom door every night before she fell asleep as if I needed a bigger clue that she hated me. I knew she didn’t hate me. She was pissed and yeah, probably hurt too, but if she didn’t have feelings for me, she wouldn’t be hurt.
Twisted logic, but it was all I had at the moment so I decided to run with it. That running began with a quick trip to the grocery store where two older ladies I wasn’t sure I’d met helped me gather ingredients for dinner. I didn’t bother to tell them I had a list because they gave me a few pointers I committed to memory while they added breadcrumbs and bourbon to my shopping cart. “For the homemade barbecue sauce,” the tinier of the little old ladies had said.
