Chapter 2
Chapter Two
April, two years ago
Everyone wondered why the hell Pippa had wanted so badly to get married in April. It was still fucking freezing outside, so cold that we were all shivering at the wedding practice.
Where had this guy even come from? her rich friends all whispered.
Who had even heard of him before he took a job as the line cook at the Salty Dog Café?
But I knew the main reason she had moved so fast.
Pippa was head over heels in love with Granger. Had been ever since the first day she came to the café to “visit me,” but in reality to see the man I had a crush on.
I remembered how Pippa had been so full of jokes and laughter, teasing me about the crush I couldn’t hide and all the information she’d dragged out of me.
Who was this guy? I was 24 and he was 30, wasn’t that weird? 30 was way too old for me. How could I like a line cook? Wasn’t he always covered in grease? How could he be good enough for me?
He’s different, I told her. He said we had a connection.
All those words had died on her lips the moment she’d seen him.
Pippa always got everything she wanted. She wanted Granger, and she’d gotten him.
And here I was at the end of their wedding practice dinner.
To stave off the cold, she had hired a rock band and karaoke was planned. Everyone was making toasts and dancing.
But I desperately wanted to know what had changed. What had made Granger drop all his interest in me, all those lazy evenings after work with our fiddle and flute on the beach, for Pippa?
I knew it was too late. He was getting married tomorrow.
Sometimes there was no rhyme or reason for who you fell in love with, and I would just have to accept that.
But I couldn’t resist one, just one tiny glance over at him. Because how could you take your eyes off this man?
He was dressed so differently than his usual line cook uniform, with that collared white shirt and those navy-blue slacks.
Is this what he was going to look like when he married her?
Like a starched-up, proper businessman? Not someone who had a wicked glint in his eye? Who moved like a drifter, who had that big d walk?
Our eyes met, and my stupid self couldn’t help flushing with embarrassment. And, even then, I couldn’t look away.
I felt my lips part, my face heat, and it had nothing to do with the glass of champagne.
Because he did something to me, and I had never been able to shake that feeling. Not when he started to date her and not when he put a ring on her finger. Even though I knew it was wrong.
I couldn’t stop loving him, even though it was desperate, embarrassing.
There was a small smile playing on his lips and I felt tingles consume my whole body.
Look away, idiot! I silently screamed at myself. He’s your best friend’s fiancé!
And then Granger jerked his head.
Such a small movement that at first I couldn’t believe he had done it at all.
I kept staring at him.
What did he mean by it?
My fingers tightened on the stem of my wine glass. Had that been for me?
Surely not.
But he was looking right at me.
My nipples felt like they were diamond-hard points, rubbing painfully on the matching floral dress Pippa had insisted all her bridesmaids wear.
I must have looked like a fish staring agape at him.
But then—he jerked his head again, unmistakably this time. In the direction of the hallway.
Was he asking me to follow him?
No. No. I couldn’t do that. It was too much of a temptation.
But I did.
He got up and disappeared into the darkness, and I followed.
We were just around the corner, the bar hallway dark and unlit, when he turned to me.
I could see his eyes gleaming and he flicked at the long straw hat that drooped over my eyes.
“Take off that hat,” Granger smiled. “You look like an idiot.”
He ripped it off, and I remembered not even seeing where it fell, because then he bent and took my face in his hands.
My little gasp was swallowed up by his lips, firm, his fingers tightening on my face as he pressed me further into the darkness.
My insides were melting into a puddle, and I made helpless little noises as he kissed me.
I could still hear the party going, could still hear the happy drunken shrieks, the karaoke pounding out so loudly I could barely hear the waves beyond.
I wished I hadn’t worn any panties at all, when he reached impatiently up past my skirts and hooked his fingers in them.
“Shouldn’t we go back out there?” I asked tremulously.
“Shut up, Sosie.”
“Granger, I—”
“You what?” he asked, and then his fingers were between my thighs, and I had to squirm at how they felt, my pussy embarrassingly slick and needy.
“I don’t want you to marry her,” I breathed into his chest.
There. I had said it.
“Honey, you’re so sweet. Now shhh and let me get my fingers in this tight pussy. Damn, you’re so tight and hot.”
“Oh no—” I began to mewl.
“Granger?” Pippa called, and my heart caught in my throat as I gasped involuntarily.
Granger made a low grunt of annoyance and jammed his hand over my mouth, then dragged me further down the hall, opening the door to the outside with one foot. The waves crashed loudly against the beach as he kissed me again.
“What does this mean?” I gasped.
My lips felt swollen with the violence of his kisses, my skin buzzing with the way he smelled, the way he felt, the way his skin was all velvet sin and seduction.
“It means you’re mine. Knew it as soon as I saw you.”
My whole body shivered in joy and relief.
He wanted me!
“Fuck, I need to be inside you.”
Hand in hand, we ran down to the beach, and I slipped out of my shoes, my toes digging into the sand.
Granger grabbed me around the waist, pulling me into his arms, and we fell together onto one of the dunes, and then I was on my back and he was above me, reaching down to the zipper on his pants, his other hand rough on my breast, fingers digging into the soft flesh.
“Oh, yes, please,” I was begging.
He ripped at my panties as he pressed one of my legs up high, tipping my hips up for him.
For one moment I felt unbelievably vulnerable, open to him, my secret all out in the open.
I loved him. And he knew it now.
“Pippa—” I tried. “Shouldn’t you tell her first—”
That you really want me
Not her
“Focus on this, sweetheart,” he said, one set of hard fingers moving to my chin to tip it up, force me to look at him.
His eyes were so blue, that blonde curl falling over his forehead.
I wanted to look at him forever, I wanted to bottle this feeling of the long cords of muscle on his back.
But with one long, brutal stroke he plunged through my virginity and sheathed his cock to the balls inside me.
I cried out in mingled pleasure and pain, my fingers digging into his shoulders as I gripped him closer.
Maybe I should have told him I was a virgin, but I thought I’d rather die than embarrass myself so much.
He paused for a moment, then pulled his cock back out, and it was an agony and an ecstasy, the walls of my cunt suddenly empty without the monstrous thick length of him.
But the ache between my thighs soon began to melt into a deep, elemental pleasure, as the tide lapped at my toes, each stroke lengthening, deepening my desperation for him.
“I love you so much,” I whispered in his ear, like a lovesick fool.
I knew he was going to answer when suddenly I heard a woman’s voice, back from the lighted street where we had just been.
“Granger? GRANGER?”
I squeaked in surprise as I heard the click click click of Pippa’s heels on the boardwalk.
What if Pippa came down to the beach, and saw us here in the shadows, her fiancé on top of me, one knee up high as he thrust brutally inside me?
I froze, but he growled in my ear.
“Keep going. You come when I tell you to.”
This is wrong, I wanted to squeak. We should have waited until you were single.
But he had put a hand between my thighs, to where our bodies met, in a sticky and sandy mess, and he began to rub, and then I couldn’t get away. . . I felt something tightening like a ball inside me.
“Why do you think he’s out here?” her friend Peyton said, as I buried my head in his chest, trying desperately to stop the small squeaks spilling from my lips.
“I don’t know, but I don’t know where he is. I thought I saw him come this way.”
“It’s the night before your wedding. You don’t want to see the groom anyway, do you?”
“I guess not.”
The pain was beginning to fade in earnest now, almost gone in the pleasure of each thrust, each one taking me almost to the peak, but then dragging me away from it.
Then I heard Hayden’s voice.
“You sure about this, Pippa? Want me to do a little more digging on this guy? Make sure he is who he says he is.”
Their voices were fading away, but I heard Pippa very clearly tell her brother in a blistering voice what she thought about that idea.
And then I couldn’t hold out any longer.
“You better be quiet,” Granger hissed wickedly in my ear. “If you’re too loud, she might hear you.”
I moaned in agony, but I buried my face deeper into his skin, his open shirt making it possible to taste him, and I even dared to stick my tongue out a little bit, taste the forbidden pleasures of his flesh.
And then I came, arching my back until it cramped, toe-curling pleasure that suffused my whole body.
Granger still had one hand on my leg and he thrust inside so deeply my whole body curved up, and then I felt tears leak from my eyes as he released inside me, the last of my shuddering tremors dripping all over the cum he was splashing inside me.
I shivered to think if I hadn’t been on the Patch, we could’ve gotten pregnant right away. . .
“You didn’t tell me you were a virgin,” Granger said, pinching my chin as I took deep, shuddering breaths.
My knees were so weak I could barely stand up.
“I wasn’t,” I protested.
“Don’t lie to me, Sosie, you’re a shitty liar. Come on,” he said, taking my hand. “Back to my hotel room.”
I could barely keep up, stumbling after him, feeling like the stars in my eyes must be visible from blocks away.
He was staying in a small motel at the very end of Main Street, a very dated 1960’s style place, with tiny wood-paneled rooms and avocado fridges.
I could have stood on my morals and refused to go in with him. Refused to do something that would have hurt my friend if she ever found out.
But I didn’t. I would have followed him anywhere.
Granger opened the door and pulled me right in after him, and I didn’t fight. I didn’t object.
Instead I put my arms eagerly around his throat, loving how those corded muscles felt under my fingers, and I raised my lips for his kiss. . .
The insistent buzz of his cellphone woke me up the next morning.
I was aching between my legs so badly, blinking blearily even though my eyes felt glued shut.
How many times had we had sex last night?
I felt weak and wrung-out with pleasure.
He had taken me hard and I’d loved every filthy minute of it.
But who had texted him?
I picked the phone up.
Hi baby
So excited to marry you today!
Oh my god. Pippa.
My stomach sunk like a stone. She was going to be devastated when the wedding was called off. All those weeks of planning. And no one knew more than me how obsessed she was with Granger.
I’d never seen her like that over a man.
I felt guilty, but there was also a dark thread of triumph running through me that was shameful.
Ever since Pippa had decided we were friends in 2nd grade, she’d always been the winner. At everything. Smarter, funnier, more outgoing, better at dancing, at singing, at everything.
And boys always liked her better.
Sometimes in my more insecure moments, I wondered if she just kept me around for the musical accompaniment. My ability to play the flute and piano blended in well with her beautiful contralto voice.
But even though she was rich, stunning, accomplished, had everything, and I was poor, orphaned, and a nobody in the world, he was still choosing me.
Then the phone rang, and Granger snaked a muscular arm across me to grab it.
“Hello, baby,” he said, his voice rough and low with sleep, and he settled back against the pillows.
Oh no.
What did you do last night? I could hear her ask.
“Nothing, baby, just came back and played games on my phone.”
You weren’t with anyone?
“Of course not. No one.”
I’ll see you over here at Hollingsworth House in an hour or so. Did you remember to pick up your tux?
“Sure did.”
My empty stomach twisted with sick nausea and disbelief.
“You’re still going through with the wedding? But we just spent the entire night together!”
Granger rolled off the bed. God, he was so beautiful, those long, tanned lines of his body, the way his muscles rippled as he stretched.
I wanted to sink my hands into his blonde hair, bite that firm juicy naked ass.
“And? What did you think that meant?”
My jaw dropped, his cruelty almost incomprehensible to me.
“So. . . so. . . you’re just a cheater then,” I said stupidly.
“You think I’m unaware you’re in love with me?” Granger asked coolly, starting the shower. “I wanted you and I took you. Now I’m getting married to my fiancée.”
He wasn’t choosing me at all. He was choosing her all along. Had always intended to choose her.
“I’m not in love with you! I think you’re, a—an asshole,” I cried, but the tears were already gathering in the corners of my eyes.
He tweaked my nose.
“No, you don’t. How about a blowjob for the road?”
“How—dare you ask me for a blowjob!” I hissed, shoving his hands away and grabbing frantically for my clothes.
“I never want to see you again!”
“Lies, Sosie,” he taunted. “Don’t overreact about this.”
“It’s not a lie. I swear to God I’m blocking your number.”
He still had that cocky smile on his face that I wanted to smack off.
“I’m not done with you.”
“But I’m done with you,” I retorted, and that stupid wedding rehearsal dress had to go back on, feeling stiff and horrible after spending all night on the floor.
“I’ll get it from you—whenever I please. Just remember that. You still belong to me.”
“Bastard,” I said with loathing.
He only shrugged, and tapped on the door with one hand as I left.
“See you at the wedding, songbird.”