Tangled Vows (Willow Brook Falls #3)

41. Shayla

41

SHAYLA

“ S lice and Dice.” Easton read the brightly lit sign above the door as we approached the front entrance. “Pizza and games.” He halted in his tracks and turned to face me, his eyes searching mine. “You planned this?”

“Yes,” I replied breathily, and his face softened.

“How did you know?”

“I told her,” Roni cut in as she came to stand next to us. She leaned in so only Easton and I could hear. “You know, you should really tell your wife when your birthday is so she isn’t blindsided when it comes up.” She shot him a disapproving glare before disappearing inside the restaurant behind Max and David.

“Thank you for this,” Easton said, taking my free hand in his. The other held his birthday present. “And I’m sorry for not telling you when my birthday is or about our traditions. I didn’t want you to feel obligated to do anything or get me a present.” He nodded toward the brightly wrapped box tucked under my arm.

“It’s okay.” I shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal, but it felt intentional. Like I would never truly be part of his family, so he didn’t feel the need to include me. I forced a smile and shoved down my disappointment. “Let’s go inside.” He opened the door, and I stepped through, his hand settling on the small of my back as we entered the loud, dimly lit restaurant.

“You can sit anywhere you’d like,” the hostess announced and waved toward the dining area.

Max took off, and the rest of us followed after him until we arrived at a booth big enough to accommodate all of us. David slid into the seat next to Roni and Max, leaving the other side free for Easton and me. Slipping into the cushioned seat, I wedged my purse between us as Easton took his place beside me. He looked at my bag, his brow furrowing in displeasure.

“Why are you so far away?” he asked before plucking my purse from the seat and sliding an arm around me. He tucked my purse between me and the wall. His hand landed on my hip, and he tugged me closer. My jeans-clad ass slid effortlessly across the worn vinyl. “That’s better,” he said and pressed me closer to him. My chest fluttered as his hold tightened on me. I knew he was only doing this for show, but it felt real. Too real.

I thought he would release me when the waitress returned to drop off waters and to take our orders, but he didn’t. He grabbed his glass of water with his free hand and took a sip as the hand at my hip dipped beneath the hem of my shirt. His thumb rubbed slow circles over my waist as he placed his order. I wiggled in his grasp, hoping he’d loosen his grip, but he didn’t relent.

“Can I play games while we wait on our food?” Max asked hopefully.

“Sure,” Roni replied.

“I’ll come with you,” David announced as they slid from the booth.

“You coming?” Roni asked, looking at Easton expectantly.

“You guys go ahead. I’ll join you a little bit,” he offered, and we watched their retreating forms until they disappeared into the arcade. I tried to move away from him now that they were gone, but Easton only tightened his hold on me. He dropped his head, and his nose brushed the shell of my ear. When he spoke, his voice was low and laced with warning.

“If you keep trying to get away, I’ll pull you onto my lap right here in front of everybody.” An involuntary moan fell from my lips, and his free hand disappeared beneath the table and gripped my thigh. He turned into me, shielding my body from any onlookers with his large frame.

“Fuck, Shayla. You can’t make those noises in public.” His hand slid further up my leg until his fingers met the apex of my thighs. I let my legs fall open to grant him access. It wasn’t a conscious move but simple biology taking over. My body craved his touch. And he delivered. He cupped me through my jeans, and a sharp breath hissed between his teeth.

“I bet you’re already soaking wet for me,” he whispered against my temple. To anyone watching, the gesture would seem sweet, but under the table, he pressed his fingers against my clit, applying enough pressure to make me squirm.

“Easton, please.”

“Mmm, I like the way you beg.” His deep voice rumbled against my ear, and I swore I felt the vibration all the way down to my throbbing core.

“W-we can’t do this here,” I proclaimed as my traitorous body rocked against his hand. “Your family?—”

“They’re not coming back any time soon. I’ll have to drag Max out of there kicking and screaming.” I relaxed a little knowing they wouldn’t return to find him pleasuring me in public. Still, this was my hometown. I knew people here. The waitress was a few years behind me in school. Although the restaurant wasn’t very busy, I spotted a few familiar faces among the patrons. Not to mention how easily recognizable Easton was. It was only a matter of time before someone noticed us.

Just as I felt a familiar tightening in my lower belly, Easton pulled his hand away and turned to relax back in his seat. I huffed out a frustrated sigh, and his lips tilted in a smirk.

“But you’re right,” he said agreeably, and I searched my recent memory for what I’d said that he agreed with. “We shouldn’t do this here. I wouldn’t want to cause a scene. And you come so prettily. I don’t want anyone else to witness it. I’m the only one who gets to watch you fall apart.” He pressed another kiss to my temple, and I squeezed my eyes shut while pushing my thighs together to quell the ache. Obviously it didn’t work. I still wanted him to finish what he’d started.

“Don’t worry, wife. I’ll take care of that needy little ache between your legs when we get home,” Easton proclaimed, nodding toward my lap. I forced myself to relax as a rebuttal formed on my tongue. Before I could turn it loose, our waitress approached with our salads, and the moment was lost.

Easton’s family returned shortly after, a long bundle of bright yellow tickets clutched in Max’s hand. When we finished eating, Easton opened his gift, and his face lit up as he pulled the decorative metal sign from the box.

“This is incredible,” he proclaimed, his eyes finding mine. “Thank you.” He pressed a quick kiss to my lips, and it struck me that it no longer felt like he was pretending.

“Ewww,” Max drew out, and Easton chuckled.

“Sorry, little dude. Sometimes a man just has to kiss his wife so she knows how much he appreciates her.”

My heart skipped a beat as his soft gaze landed on me. I searched his face for any hints of deception but found only open sincerity. It made me want to pull him in for another kiss, but I didn’t want to risk grossing Max out again.

“Uncle E, let’s play some more games. I only need fifty more tickets to get the prize I want.” Max bounced with excitement in his seat.

“I’m ready,” Easton said as he stood from the booth. Turning back to me, he asked, “Want to play some games?” Without waiting for an answer, he reached down to pull me to my feet. I slipped my hand into his, and electric attraction surged up my arm. It didn’t matter that he’d had his hands on me all night; his touch still made my skin tingle and my heart race.

“Let’s do it.” His eyes darkened, and his arm came around my waist to pull me flush against his chest.

“We’re going to do it alright,” he whispered in my ear. “Just wait until I get you home.”

Easton’s family had to be at the airport early the next morning, so they turned in for the night shortly after arriving home. We hugged them goodnight and wished them safe travels. I hated to see them go. It was a joy getting to know them better, and Easton seemed happier when they were around. I wasn’t sure what would happen once they were gone. Would things go back to the way they’d been before? Would he still want me in his bed when it was no longer our only option?

My thoughts raced as I filled a glass with water and took a long gulp. I placed the glass on the island and leaned against it, letting my head drop as I closed my eyes and recalled the way Easton touched me at dinner. My breath hitched at the memory of his possessive hand at my hip and his fingers pressing against my clit. I rubbed my legs together for relief but to no avail.

I tensed, sensing a presence in the kitchen a moment before two large hands landed on the granite beside mine. I felt his heat on my back as Easton caged me in, his arms bracketing mine as he pressed into me. I expected him to say something, to break the silence with a teasing remark, or whisper naughty proclamations in my ear. But he didn’t utter a word.

He gently brushed aside my hair and pressed a kiss to my exposed neck before reaching for the top of my shirt. His fingers moved deftly as he undid the first two buttons. He yanked the material down one arm, exposing more of my skin as he skimmed his lips over my shoulder. I shivered and arched into him. He ground his erection into my backside as a low groan rumbled up his throat.

“Shayla.” Goosebumps erupted over my skin, and my head fell back on his shoulder. He hooked one arm around my waist and spun me to face him. His chest heaved as he stared down at me, his gaze hooded and full of desire. Then his lips crashed down on mine, and his hold on me tightened. My heavy breasts grazed his chest, and my nipples pebbled, straining almost painfully against the lace of my bra.

His mouth slanted over mine, his tongue probing. I opened to him, and he slipped inside. Everything else faded to the background. All I could hear was the rapid beat of my heart pounding in my ears.

Easton dropped his hands to my hips, lifting me effortlessly onto the kitchen island, and stepped between my legs. He plundered my mouth, tasting and exploring as his hands slid up my sides. His fingers danced over my collarbone and slid beneath the collar of my shirt. He pushed the remaining sleeve off my shoulder, effectively pinning my arms to my sides and exposing the black lace hugging my breasts. His eyes raked greedily over the swells spilling from the cups.

“These perfect fucking tits,” he groaned and lowered his head to drop open mouth kisses across the swells of my breasts. “I’ve been dying to taste them,” he confessed.

I reached for him, fisting my hands in his shirt as he lapped at me, swirling his tongue over my erect nipple through the lace. He drew back and blew on it, watching the wet peak pucker against the cool air. He brought his lips down on mine and wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me flush against him. His impressive length met my core, and he once again ground his arousal into me.

“You have no idea how hard this has been, how badly I’ve needed this. It’s been too long,” he proclaimed, his voice full of desperation. I froze, and my stomach dropped. It sounded like I was merely a means to an end. It was as though this was nothing more than an itch he needed to scratch, like I was just a convenient option for him to use for his sexual gratification. This wasn’t about me. This was simply about his need to get off with someone. And I almost fell for it.

Before he could utter another word, I shoved him away from me, and he stumbled back, eyes wide with surprise. His chest heaved like he’d just run a marathon.

“I can’t do this,” I announced and hopped off the counter. I glanced away, unable to meet his gaze. “You’ll have to find someone else to fulfill your … needs.” My voice cracked at the end, and my throat grew thick. I hated the thought of him with someone else, but I wouldn’t be what he settled for because he needed a release. I had more self-respect than that.

“What the hell?” he asked, incredulous.

“I’m not just an easy piece of ass you can play with because you’re desperate, then toss me aside once you’ve gotten your rocks off,” I declared, that ache in my chest turning to fury. Shoving past him, I marched toward the door, but I only made it a few feet before I was spun around and Easton’s arm was wrapped around my waist, holding me tightly against his chest. His free hand snaked into my hair, and I sucked in a sharp breath.

“You can’t say shit like that, then just walk away,” he growled. “We’re going to talk about this, wife .” His voice lowered, and his eyes darkened on that last word. I huffed a frustrated breath, and my nostrils flared, my eyes narrowing into slits as I glared at him. “Are you ready to talk now, or do I need to fuck that attitude out of you first?”

My traitorous body betrayed me. I melted into him, the tension in my stiff posture relaxing. The insides of my thighs grew slick, and my breath hitched. I didn’t trust myself to speak, so I stayed silent, and he took that as my compliance.

“Let’s get one thing straight—I don’t want you because I’m desperate,” he began, his eyes blazing. “And there’s been nothing fucking easy about you,” he continued, and the corner of his mouth twitched as though he enjoyed our verbal sparring. “And lastly, you’re my wife. There isn’t a chance in hell I’d allow another woman to fulfill my needs, much less touch me. You’re the only one I want.” I searched his gaze for any signs of deception, but there weren’t any there, only sincerity.

“I don’t understand,” I said, fighting the urge to give in to him. I knew what I heard that day outside the weight room. “I thought I disgusted you.” He drew back as though I’d struck him, confusion and hurt swimming in his hazel eyes. Stunned, he loosened his grip enough for me to wiggle free.

“Wh-what are you talking about?” he asked, a line forming between his brows.

“I heard what you said that day,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “When I ran into you in the weight room,” I added, and his gaze bounced between my wide, glistening eyes as though searching for my meaning. He clearly didn’t remember what he’d said, so I would refresh his memory. “I was standing outside the room when Maxwell started talking about me.” His furrowed brow lifted in recognition. He was starting to remember. Funny, that moment meant so little to him, he didn’t even recall it happening, but it was forever seared into my memory. “Disgusting. That’s what you said. You were disgusted by me.” The tears I’d been holding at bay began to slip out, and I swiped at them angrily.

“Oh, baby, no,” Easton said and closed the distance between us. His hands came up to cup my face, and he brushed his thumbs across my cheeks to wipe away the tears that refused to stop coming. “Th-that’s not what I meant.”

“You said Maxwell was disgusting for wanting me,” I sobbed out my accusation.

“I said Maxwell was disgusting because of how he was talking about you, not for wanting to be with you. He was being crude and disrespectful, and I couldn’t stand hearing him objectify you like that.”

“What?” I breathed out, my heart galloping in my chest.

“I’m guessing you didn’t hear the rest of the conversation?” I shook my head.

“Not after you said you’d never sleep with me.”

“No, I said I didn’t want to hit it and quit it. There’s a difference,” he declared, his voice full of resolve. “I knew that once I had a taste, I’d never want to quit you. I knew I’d want to keep coming back for more.” My head spun, and I reeled from this revelation. But that still didn’t explain his reaction to me that first night.

Gripping his wrists, I pulled his hands away and stepped out of his hold. “What about the night we met?” I asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

“What about it?”

“You acted like you couldn’t bear the sight of me without my shirt on.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about you,” I began, poking a finger into his chest, “looking at me like the mere sight of my half-naked body caused you physical pain.” He blinked at me in confusion like I’d imagined the whole exchange. “You couldn’t even look at me when you kicked me out of your hotel room.”

He scrubbed a frustrated hand over his face and released a long breath. Then his pained gaze met mine, and I knew what he said next would flip my world upside down.