46. Shayla
46
SHAYLA
“ D ad?” My brows lifted in surprise. I hadn’t seen him all night, but clearly he’d been watching me, waiting for an opportunity to speak to me alone since Easton hadn’t left my side all night.
His face was blank aside from the tightness around his mouth that was present anytime he was disappointed. I’d seen it a lot growing up, but even more so in the years following the divorce.
“What have you done?” he asked, his voice hard. This was the first time we’d spoken since I'd gotten married. Easton’s lawyers had handled the transfer of my trust fund, and we hadn’t crossed paths at work. Clearly he wasn’t here to offer belated congratulations.
“What do you mean?” I asked flatly, crossing my arms over my chest. I wasn’t in the mood for one of his lectures, but I was curious to see what he would say.
“Easton. Walker,” he growled, his nostrils flaring. “How could you be so stupid?” I drew back, surprised, my hands going to my hips as anger surged inside me.
“Excuse me?”
“I see right through your sham of a marriage. You just wanted your trust fund, so you whored yourself out to the highest bidder to get it,” he sneered, his lip curling in disgust. My heart dropped, my stomach tightening at his words as a sick feeling settled there. Was that really what he thought of me? My own father? I opened my mouth to respond, to refute his claim, but no words came out.
“That is my wife you’re speaking to,” came a deep, menacing voice from behind me, and I stiffened. No, no, no. He didn’t need to witness this. It was bad enough I had to endure my father’s disdain, but for Easton to have a front row seat to it was the worst kind of humiliation.
Before I could turn to face him, Easton was at my side, slipping his arm around me protectively and pulling me against him. I looked up at him, but his stare was leveled at my father, fury blazing in his normally serene gaze. “You will treat her with the respect she deserves.”
“Walker,” my father ground out through gritted teeth, “this is a family matter, and she is my daughter. What we discuss is none of your concern.” He clearly didn’t have any self-preservation talking to an angry Easton that way, but he sure as shit had the audacity.
Easton took a step toward him, putting himself between me and my father. “And she is my wife. That makes her my family.” My heart galloped in my chest, and butterflies took flight inside my belly at that possessive declaration. “So yeah,” he continued, raising to his full height and staring down his nose at my dad, “it is my concern.”
I peered around Easton’s broad shoulder, my hand gripping his bicep and squeezing. His body was coiled tight, like a snake ready to strike.
Smug satisfaction settled over my father’s features, and he smirked. “What are you going to do? Deck me like you did Danvers? Get kicked off another team?”
Easton took another step toward him, and I tightened my hold on his arm. “Easton,” I pleaded. As much as I wanted to throttle my father, I didn’t want Easton to do anything to jeopardize his career. And he looked ready to pummel him.
“No,” he replied finally, grabbing my hand and tangling his fingers with mine. Warmth suffused me at his gentle yet possessive touch. “I’m going to take her home and show her how a real man treats his family. I’m going to protect her and cherish her like you should have but never did.” He turned, ready to walk away, but paused for just a moment. “And then I’m going to make sure you never have any power over her again.” With that, he left my father standing there gaping like a fish out of water.
Tugging me along, I had to jog to keep up with his long strides. I didn’t say a word as he led me to his vehicle. What could I say? There were too many thoughts running through my head to form a coherent sentence. He released my hand to open my door, and sadness filled my chest at the loss of his warm, reassuring grip. He didn’t reach for it again once he was behind the wheel, and knots formed in my stomach. Had he meant what he said to my father? Or was he regretting his choice to marry me now that he knew just how messed up my family was?
He peeled out of the parking lot, driving like the hounds of hell were nipping at his heels. Not a word was uttered between us on the drive home. Easton’s posture was rigid, his white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel causing the leather to creak. I didn’t know what to say, so I stayed silent, my mind replaying the encounter with my dad over and over again. The things Easton said… Had he meant them or was it all for show? Was he just trying to get my dad off my back? All that talk about how I was his family now, it almost sounded like he wanted to keep me, like he didn’t want this to eventually come to an end.
Once we arrived home, I followed Easton silently into the house, my mind still reeling. He tossed his keys onto the entry table and shrugged out of his suit jacket. Draping it over the back of the couch, he turned to face me, sadness mixing with the fury in his gaze as he undid his cufflinks.
“Shayla, I—” he began, but his words fell away. He ran a frustrated hand over his stubbled jaw. “I had no idea it was that bad. Your father is a real piece of work.” His jaw flexed, and his mouth flattened in distaste.
“Thank you,” I said, gulping at the tension blazing in his eyes. “No one has ever stood up to him on my behalf before.” It was nice not to feel so alone for once.
“You’re my wife,” he said as he took another step toward me, rolling up his sleeves as he closed the distance. I reluctantly tore my gaze from his muscular forearms to peer up at him. “I will always defend you. I will always protect you.” He tucked a stray piece of hair behind my ear, and my chest tightened. Then his eyes darkened, and something carnal filled the bottomless hazel depths. The air crackled between us, an electric charge filling the small space separating our bodies.
He lowered his hand, his gaze dropping to my chest as he ran the backs of his knuckles down the bodice of my emerald gown. “This fucking dress,” he growled, his eyes raking down my body. Heat skittered across my skin, and I sucked in a sharp breath. Warm, calloused fingers trailed up from my ribs, gliding over the scoop neckline and barely skimming the swells of my breasts. “I’ve been dying to peel it off this sexy body all night. It’s all I could think about.”
Words left me, and I stared up at him adoringly. My breaths sawed in and out of my chest, and my pulse thundered against my ribs. It didn’t matter how many times I had him. His touch still sent a shockwave through my body, my skin tingling each time he made contact.
“You’re all I’ve wanted, all I’ve been able to think about since the night we met.” Even though I realized now he’d been attracted to me this whole time, it still felt good hearing that he’d always wanted me, that he’d been fighting his attraction to me just like I had for him.
His fingers trailed higher, brushing over my collarbone, and I held back the moan threatening to escape my lips. “It was torture not being able to act on my desires for so long.” His fingers continued their languorous journey up my neck, and a shiver ran down my spine. The gentle caress tickled, but I didn’t dare move for fear he would stop. His warm palm cupped my jaw, tilting my head back further.
“But now,” he said, his heated gaze dropping to my mouth. My lips parted as short, shallow breaths puffed in and out between them. “You’re mine, and nothing will come between us again.”
His lips crashed down on mine, his kiss stealing my breath and covering my moan. Tingles erupted over my scalp as his hand tangled in my hair and tugged, angling my head to deepen the kiss. Cinnamon and sandalwood invaded my senses, a combination that was all Easton.
I melted into his embrace, relief coursing through me along with arousal as his free arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me flush against him. Snaking my arms around his neck, I arched my back, pushing my breasts into his chest. He groaned, tightening his hold on me as his tongue plundered my mouth. Goosebumps spread over my skin as need coiled tight in my lower belly. I wanted him. I needed to feel him inside me.
As if reading my thoughts, his hands dropped to my hips, fisting the fabric of my skirt. Cool air ghosted across my thighs as he lifted it higher. He cupped me through the thin layer of lace covering my center.
“Hmm,” he hummed in approval, “already so wet for me.” Teasing the edge of my panties, he dipped one finger inside and glided it along my slick center. I moaned when his rough skin met my swollen clit. Dipping lower, he gathered the moisture on his fingers then brought them up to circle the tender bundle of nerves. “You’re soaked,” he growled into my neck before biting down on the sensitive flesh.
I gasped, a riot of sensations rippling over my skin. Suddenly his hand was gone, and I let out a whimper. Before I could protest, he pressed me against the back of the couch and dropped to his knees. Leaning in, he pressed a kiss to my hip before looking up at me.
“I need to taste you.” That was my only warning before he dove in, yanking my thong to the side and taking a long, slow swipe. I fell back against the couch, my hands searching for purchase as he repeated the motion before flicking his tongue over my clit. Two fingers slid inside me, curling forward, and my back bowed.
“Easton,” I gasped. A growl rumbled up his throat. The vibration sent a jolt of pleasure through my center, and I cried out. I was almost there. Just a few more flicks of his tongue would send me over the edge.
Then I was sailing, flying high on a cloud of bliss. My legs shook and nearly gave out on me, but Easton held me upright, pinning me against the couch. His tongue and fingers worked me over until every last drop of pleasure was wrung from my body.
My legs shook as I straightened, wobbling like a baby giraffe. Easton scooped me into his arms bridal style and carried me to his room.
No, our room.
It wasn’t just his anymore. I’d offered to move back into the guest room after his family left, but he was having none of it.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he’d declared, picking me up and tossing me onto his bed. He’d crawled over me and pinned me to his mattress.
We’d both been late showing up to the arena for his game that day.
The memory melted away as Easton placed me on my feet in front of the bed and turned me so my back was to him. Deft fingers loosened the laces at my back in record time, and before I knew it, my gown was pooled at my feet. I stood there in nothing but a thong and heels. Air hissed through Easton’s teeth as he stepped back to take me in. He circled around me, his eyes raking over my body like one would study a priceless work of art.
“You are so damn beautiful,” he praised. My cheeks flushed, and I dipped my chin, dropping my gaze. My husband never shied away from complimenting me, but it still made me blush. No one had ever talked to me the way he did. No one told me I was sexy or beautiful or irresistible like he did. It was heartwarming and empowering all at once.
Emboldened by his clear appreciation of my body, I reached forward and gripped him by his waistband.
“It’s my turn,” I said, my voice low and husky. Flicking the button on his pants, I tugged the zipper down and reached into his boxer briefs. He was already hard, the impressive length filling my hand. He groaned when I stroked up and down his shaft a few times.
Kicking my dress to the side, I dropped to my knees, freeing his erection. I licked my lips in anticipation of taking him into my mouth.
His gaze flickered past my shoulder for a brief second, and I wondered what he was looking at. Normally when I was naked, he couldn’t take his eyes off me. A wicked grin curved his lips, and he gently gripped my chin. My stomach flipped as he stared down at me on my knees before him.
“Hold that thought,” he growled before leaning down and pressing his lips to mine briefly. I turned and watched him walk over to my side of the bed wondering what on earth he was doing. Panic coursed through me when he opened the bottom drawer of my nightstand. I tried to call out a warning not to look in there, but I choked on the words when he pulled out a rather large dildo with a suction cup base. Embarrassment coursed through me, and I had to remind myself that he’d caught me using a toy once before. I’d been mortified at the time, but now I was thankful for it. That had been the turning point in our relationship.
He straightened and walked toward me, a predatory gleam in his eyes. Kneeling in front of me, he leaned in for another kiss.
“H-how did you know that was in there?” He had the decency to look sheepish when he answered.
“I wanted to see what we were working with in case we wanted to use one. So, one day I took a little peek. You have quite the arsenal,” he said with a smirk, and my cheeks flushed.
“It doesn’t bother you?” Calvin had hated it when I used toys. He made it seem like I was broken because I couldn’t orgasm with him. Guess now we knew I wasn’t the problem.
“Hell no, it doesn’t bother me. These are my teammates, not my competition,” he announced, and my stomach tightened with anticipation.
“How exactly are you planning to use that?” Was he going to watch me while he stroked himself? Use it on me while he licked my clit again?
“You’re going to ride this,” he began, holding up the lifelike dildo, “while I fuck your mouth.” Oh. I liked the sound of that. I let out a little whimper, and my pussy clenched, ready to be filled. I’d never done anything like that before, and I was glad Easton would be my first.
“And I’m going to watch,” he added, nodding behind me. I glanced over my shoulder, my eyes widening when they landed on the large mirror positioned against the wall behind me. I’d been so preoccupied by Easton, I’d forgotten it was there.
My skin tingled all over, and my nipples puckered as desire roared through me. Easton reached down with his free hand and tugged my thong aside before sliding the toy along my slick center.
“I think you’re ready. Can you take all of it?” I nodded, wiggling my hips impatiently.
“I can take you, can’t I?” He was certainly bigger than what he held in his hand. A slow smile spread across his lips at my rebuttal before he leaned in.
“Good girl,” he breathed against my ear, positioning the toy beneath me and guiding me down onto it. His gaze was intensely focused on the mirror at my back, not even five feet away. His eyes filled with hunger as he palmed my ass and spread my cheeks to get a better view.
“Look how sexy you are.” I peered over my shoulder, watching myself sink onto it, my dark hair cascading down my back. I was shocked at how hot it was. The scene was so erotic, I almost wished he would film it so we could watch it together later.
“That’s it,” he urged. “You’re doing so good.” My muscles tightened at his gentle words of praise. When the toy was fully seated inside me, he stood and shucked his clothes. I stared up at him in all his naked glory. He was gorgeous, carved to perfection. His hand cupped the back of my neck, and I leaned forward. The toy slid out slightly, creating a delicious friction.
“You just focus on moving those hips however you want, and I’ll take care of the rest,” Easton instructed, and I nodded. I lowered myself onto the toy and rose up again, repeating the motion a few times. “Good,” Easton praised. “Now open those pretty pink lips.” I did as he asked, and he brushed the head of his cock over my bottom lip. My tongue darted out to lick the tip, and he sucked in a sharp breath, his fingers tightening in my hair. I continued to rock my hips as he slid into my mouth, and my jaw widened to accommodate him. His hips pumped in and out, matching my pace and easing in further each time.
“Fuck,” he groaned when I hummed around his length. “Play with your clit. I want you to get off while you swallow my cock down that pretty throat.”
Another whimper worked its way out. His dirty words alone were about to send me over the edge. My fingers found my clit and drew gentle circles around it. I moaned as I found my rhythm, bringing myself to the brink within minutes. My movements became more erratic the closer I got.
“That’s it, baby. Let go,” Easton encouraged. I released a strangled moan as my orgasm crashed over me. Before I could register what was happening, Easton had me on my back atop the bed, and my toy and panties were gone. He crushed his lips to mine in a hard, punishing kiss before pulling back and slamming into me. I cried out as he buried himself to the hilt. He held perfectly still for a moment before he began to move, his hips snapping forward as his eyes found mine. They were full of emotion as he held my gaze, and I felt a shift between us.
This was more than just sex, more than just mutual attraction. There was something deeper, a connection neither of us had been willing to acknowledge. He felt it too. I couldn’t see it before, blinded as I was by my misconceptions of him. But it was there. The eyes didn’t lie.
A delicious pressure began to build in my core, and my eyes fluttered closed as he worked me over. He was attuned to every sound and reaction. It hadn’t taken him long to figure out how to play my body like an instrument, and now he knew every note.
I detonated, the orgasm ripping through me so intensely stars flashed behind my lids. He wasn’t far behind, his cock thickening inside me before I felt his hot release painting my inner walls.
Easton collapsed beside me, pulling me into his arms and against his damp chest. His skin was slick with sweat, and his heart thundered against his ribs. I’d done that to him. Me. A grin of satisfaction slowly curled my lips.
Easton dropped a soft kiss to my forehead, and my eyes fell closed as I curled into him. He held me there until my breathing evened out. The last thing I thought before sleep took me was that my fake husband didn’t feel quite so fake anymore.