40. Shayla
40
SHAYLA
I fell against the door, the cool wood panels biting into my overheated flesh as my pulse thundered in my chest. My heart was beating so fast, I thought it might beat straight through my ribs. My fake husband, the man I vowed never to have sex with, just made me come so hard, I saw stars. What happened in there … I’d never done that before. Hell, I was convinced it was just a myth.
Until about two minutes ago.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. I never meant for our relationship to turn physical. I didn’t even think he wanted me like that.
Unwilling to entertain those thoughts, I went to the shower and turned on the water. Dropping the sheet I was wrapped in, I stepped into the spray. I closed my eyes and let the warm water wash over me. I needed a few minutes to gather my thoughts and work through what had just happened, but all I got was about thirty seconds.
A cool gust of air whispered across my skin as the glass shower door slidopen behind me. Tentatively, I peered over my shoulder and found Easton standing there, his eyes smoldering as they raked over my naked form. He was naked too. I let my gaze flick down his body before meeting his eye again. He was big. And very, very aroused. I swallowed thickly as he took another step toward me.
“I wasn’t done with you,” he said, the deep timbre of his voice sending a bolt of arousal straight between my legs.
“I-I,” I stammered, unable to form coherent words. He had me twisted in knots. Not only had he caught me masturbating in his bed, but I’d also made an absolute mess of his fancy Egyptian cotton sheets.
I glanced away, embarrassed and unable to meet his eye. His finger
hooked under my chin, and he tilted my face up to his. Sensing my unease, his eyes softened before he spoke.
“Don’t hide from me. You have nothing to be embarrassed about.”
“I … that’s never happened before.”
“Really?” he asked, a brow quirked in intrigue.
“Really,” I confirmed. A self-satisfied grin spread across his face as his hand cupped the back of my neck.
“I love that I’m the only one who’s ever made you do that.” He closed the distance between us, and his erection pressed against my belly. “I want to make you do it again.”
“You do?”
“Hell yeah, I do.” My head spun as confusion and doubt gripped me. My thoughts were so muddled as I tried to reconcile the Easton who’d kicked me out of his hotel room with the Easton who’d just made me squirt for the first time.
Why did he suddenly seem so eager to have me naked when he practically ran for the hills the first time he saw me without a shirt on? Why did he now look at me like a hungry lion ready to devour its first meal after weeks of starvation? I was mortified when he walked in on me pleasuring myself, but he’d been downright enthralled by the sight. I was so stunned, I didn’t have the presence of mind to resist him when he took over, plunging my favorite toy in and out of me until he decided he could do a better job with his fingers. And oh how right he was.
I couldn’t help but wonder if I was merely a challenge for him, something for him to conquer, or if it was something more. Did he actually desire me? Or was he simply making the most of our situation?
Pinching my eyes closed, I shook away those thoughts. This was all happening so fast, and I couldn’t make heads or tails of it.
“I’m confused,” I admitted, backing away from him. His hand fell away, and I took the opportunity to cross my arms over my chest, attempting to cover myself. “I didn’t think you were?—”
The sound of frantic knocking startled me, and I jumped back, the words dying on my tongue. Three quick raps against the bathroom door followed by Max’s excited voice.
“Uncle E, are you in there?” Easton’s head fell back on a groan, and he scrubbed a hand over his face.
“Yeah, buddy. I’ll be out in a minute,” he called out. His expression was tight with frustration, but his voice remained even. He seemed to have an infinite amount of patience with his nephew. He never got upset or raised his voice. He always listened intently to what Max had to say as though it was the most important conversation he’d ever had. Even when Max got upset, Easton always stayed calm and helped Max work through his emotions.
Warmth suffused me at the way he interacted with the kid. It was as surprising as it was heartwarming to watch.
“I need to show you something!” Max replied excitedly.
Easton’s cheeks puffed, and he blew out a breath, his eyes finding mine before he reached for the shower door.
“We’re going to finish this conversation later,” he said before stepping out of the shower and grabbing a towel off the rack. It sounded like a warning and a promise.
I washed off quickly, ignoring the pulsing ache between my legs. Despite having the most earth-shattering orgasm of my life, I wanted more. My body hummed with need. She’d just have to calm the hell down so I could get through the rest of the day.
“I have some errands to run,” I announced when I found Easton and his family watching a movie in the living room. The three adults looked up, but Max was too enthralled by the epic battle taking place on screen to pay me any mind. Roni and David bid me goodbye from the couch, but Easton stood and walked over to me.
“When will you be back?” he asked, his features tight with concern. Things between us were unsettled. We were in limbo, caught between the platonic marriage of convenience we’d agreed on and … whatever that was that had occurred in his bed moments ago.
“Soon. It won’t take too long,” I assured him.
He nodded and lifted his hand to cradle my jaw. His head dipped, and he brushed his lips against mine. The kiss was chaste and tender, a stark contrast to the salacious acts he’d committed just before his family arrived home. Heat flooded my veins at the memory, and I fought the urge to lean into him and moan against his mouth. He pulled away and pressed his forehead against mine. His eyes remained closed as he spoke.
“Even one minute away from you is too long.”
I sucked in a quick breath at his confession, and his eyes flew open. Before I could reply, he straightened and released me. He retreated back to his spot on the couch and settled in to continue watching the movie like he hadn’t just said something so uncharacteristically sweet. He kept his gaze trained on the TV, never once sparing me another glance. So I grabbed my purse and keys and headed out the door.
The trip into town didn’t take long, and soon I was pulling up to a friend’s house to pick up Easton’s birthday gift. It was a last minute custom order, but Sean came through for me. I’d texted him Wednesday after Roni revealed Easton’s birthday was coming up, and he assured me he could have it finished by this afternoon.
It was nice having him back in our friends’ group. It took a long time for him to reacclimate to civilian life and for all of us to get used to having him back. He’d taken off shortly after graduation to join the Army, and no one had heard from him for three years, not even the pregnant fiancée he’d left at the altar. Bryn was devastated, but Sean’s best friend, Macon, was there to help her through it, and eventually they fell in love.
When Sean returned a few years later, he tried to come between them and win her back. It caused a lot of drama, but eventually the three of them worked their shit out.
It took years, but Sean finally reclaimed his place among us. Though he was still distant at times, we were glad to have him back. I just wished he could find happiness. It was clear he still loved Brynlee, but she and Macon were happy. They had a family, and despite all the shit Sean had put them through in the past, he deserved the same.
“Thanks for getting this done so fast,” I said as I entered Sean’s garage where he had a makeshift workshop. Woodworking supplies, drills, and metal cutting tools were scattered across a long table against the far wall. Slabs of wood and sheets of metal were propped in the corner next to his saw. He’d turned his hobby into a nice little side hustle.
“No problem. I had a few days off for the holiday and was glad to have something to occupy my time since Harper’s with her mom.” Brynlee and Sean had the most amicable custody arrangement I’d ever seen. They didn’t bicker over holidays or weekends, and both were flexible to changes. It worked out great for them. It had never been that easy for my parents.
Pushing those thoughts aside, I followed him deeper into the garage where he lifted a box and placed it on the table. Reaching inside, he pulled the custom piece from it and presented it for my inspection.
“What do you think?” The metal wall art featured the silhouette of a hockey player skating with a stick in his hand and “Walker” written across the bottom in bold letters.
“It’s perfect.”
I arrived home just in time to get ready for dinner. Nervous excitement buzzed through my veins. We were celebrating Easton’s birthday this evening since his family had to fly out early tomorrow morning. I wanted to make this day special for him and uphold the tradition he’d held since childhood. I just hoped I wasn’t overstepping since this was something he typically did with his family. Roni mentioned his birthday celebrations had only ever involved them. No friends or girlfriends. I felt like an interloper swooping in and taking over. But I was his wife. Fake or not, I was part of his family, and it was my job to plan his birthday celebration.
“Where are we going?” Easton asked as I slipped on my boots.
“I can’t tell you. Then it won’t be a surprise.” His gaze heated momentarily before his mouth crooked into a grin. I had to glance away. Every time I looked at his mouth, I remembered what he did to me earlier, and my stomach tightened with need.
“What kind of surprise?”he asked in that low, husky voice that made my skin prickle with awareness. This was dangerous territory. I needed to put some space between us before things got out of hand.
“You’ll just have to wait and see,” I said and brushed past him to meet his family in the foyer.
Easton insisted we take his SUV so we could all ride together. I went to the back passenger door and reached for the handle. Easton’s hand pressed against the glass before I could open it. I looked up to find him watching me with a mixture of irritation and curiosity.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Getting into your car,” I replied, my voice laced with confusion.
“Why are you getting in the back seat?”
“I thought your grandpa might want to ride up front.” His skeptical gaze narrowed on me. “I was trying to be respectful,” I explained, unsure where his reaction was coming from.
“You’re my wife,” he said, and my breath hitched on those words. My chest tightened every time he said “my wife” as though they meant something to him. “You ride up front with me.”
“O-okay,” I said in agreement, stunned by his insistence. I turned and saw David watching us, a knowing smirk plastered across his lips, and I could easily spot the resemblance between him and Easton.
“He’s right. You should be with your husband.” Warmth suffused me at his words. I couldn’t speak through my tight throat, so I nodded my agreement and slid into the passenger seat as Easton held open the door.
We pulled out of the driveway, and Easton reached across the console to grip my hand. The unexpected gesture caught me off guard, and a small gasp escaped my lips. It was quiet enough no one in the back seat heard it, but Easton glanced over at me as my shoulders stiffened. He laced his fingers through mine and gave them a gentle squeeze.
“Which way?” he asked when we approached the end of the lane. Since Easton didn’t know where we were going, I was responsible for navigating.
“Left,” I instructed, all too aware of the hand holding mine. It shouldn’t have been a big deal, considering the way he'd touched me only hours ago, but this felt oddly intimate as his thumb brushed over my knuckles in gentle strokes.
“Does anyone want to listen to music?” Easton asked.
“I do!” Max chirped excitedly from the back seat. Easton released my hand to reach for the dials on the radio, and I instantly missed his touch. Once he found a station Max was satisfied with, he reached for me again, but this time, he didn’t take my hand. His palm landed on my leg, and I watched as his large hand curled around my thigh. His fingers dug into the flesh as he tightened his grip. The touch was possessive and claiming. Heat pooled in my lower belly, and I instinctively pressed my knees together. My chest heaved as I tried to catch my breath.
We rode like that in silence for a few minutes until we came to a stop sign. Easton turned to face me, silently waiting for further direction. I was all too aware of his hand on my leg and couldn’t speak through my suddenly parched lips. My tongue darted out to wet them, and his eyes tracked the movement before returning to mine. His hand slid higher on my leg, and my breath hitched before I blurted out, “Right.”
Flipping on his turn signal, he flexed his fingers around my thigh again. Every few minutes his hand slid a little higher. By the time we pulled into the parking lot at Slice and Dice, his fingers were so close to the juncture of my thighs, he could’ve brushed the inner seam of my jeans with his pinkie. I was soaking wet when I shakily reached for the button to release my seat belt. It felt like he’d edged me on the entire drive here. Little did I know, he wasn’t done torturing me yet.