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  • Forever Wanted: Part One: A Contemporary Runaway Bride Romance Page 8

Forever Wanted: Part One: A Contemporary Runaway Bride Romance Read online

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  Dread seeps into my blood and swirls its way to my heavy heart. I feel battle weary and defeated. I don’t want darn lessons. I don’t want to have to be in this house for any length of time as it is. However, I do acknowledge this is a battle not worth fighting. Forcing a grateful smile, I let out a resigned breath. “I guess I could come over for some lessons while I stay in the lead-up to the wedding.”

  She jumps in before I finish speaking, tutting and waving her jewel-encrusted fingers in my face. “Nonsense, you can learn after you move in. There’s enough to be getting on with before the big day. I know you won’t be cooking when you live here, but you should still now how to…if you ever get your own place that is.”

  “They won’t be needing to do that for some time, Deborah. I want my first grandson to be born in this house like his granddaddy and his granddaddy before him,” Kurt’s father, Clinton booms across the table, and I feel like I’ve been hit with a bullet.

  “Grandson? Um, we haven’t—” Panic makes my voice shrill. My blood drains to my toes, facing Kurt, my face must be a few shades lighter than the pure white linen dressing the grand fifteen foot dining table.

  “Buttercup, not now.” Kurt hisses between his teeth. His eyes bore through me, more pleading than demanding my compliance. Kurt lives to please his father.

  “I want a grandson. And with your brother Chet here shooting blanks, Kurt, you better get on it right away. Understand?” He throws his head back in a disgusting throaty chuckle. Chet looks furious, and Bonny is clearly mortified, yet they all join in.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Kurt pats my thigh, laughing with the others. My stomach rolls violently, and I push back from the table. Kurt slams his hand on my thigh, squeezing to the point of pain, sharply stopping my escape.

  “Would you excuse me? I feel a little queasy.”

  “Damnit, son, she’s not pregnant already, is she?” Clinton barks out after me. Despite the deathlike grip on my thigh, I manage to push the chair far enough Kurt has to release his hold. My heels click a rapid hollow sound on the oak floor as I try to get away. Kurt’s voice echoes after me. His father may as well be on a loudspeaker. His voice travels so loud and deep I will hear in my nightmares.

  “It’s the excitement. Sir, may I be excused? I should check that she’s all right.”

  “Go, but don’t make a habit of it, son. Get her trained right from the start is what I say.”

  My head is in the toilet bowl, and I wish I could flush those words rattling around in my head like I have the contents of my stomach. I open the door to Kurt’s face, fixed with a furious scowl and clenched fists. He grabs the top of my arm and drags me around the corner, along the passage to the salon in the east wing of the mansion. Closing the door, he pushes me flat against it, his face millimeters from mine, rage throbbing in every vein in his neck.

  “How dare you fucking embarrass me like that! Now my father thinks I’m pussy whipped because I had to come after you and deal with your dramatics.”

  “I don’t care what your father thinks.” His shocked face is almost comical. I can’t quite bring myself to laugh, even hysterically. “We’re living here after we get married? What about that cottage on the other side of town you own?”

  “I changed my mind.”

  I blow out a stomach-calming breath and shake some sense in to me me. Holding the tops of his arms I steel myself once more to try and get through to him. “Kurt I don’t want to live here.”

  “What? This house not good enough for you now? Your little farm is such a palace you can’t bear to leave it; is that right? Because there is no fucking way I’m living in that shithole.”

  “It’s not; it’s my home. I want a home, Kurt, with you.” It’s not true, but it’s the best of a very bad situation, and I have to try and make it bearable. My body fights, threatening the tentative hold I have on my sanity. My stomach rolls violently, and I have to force myself to swallow the rising bile. Listen to yourself Buttercup, stop this. Stop the lies.

  “Kurt we need to stop this. I can’t—”

  He growls a toxic interruption, forcing me back against the door. “Can’t what, Buttercup? I’m so fucking tired of your whining. You don’t want to marry me? Fine, don’t! Just don’t go blaming me when your Grampa is ripped from his home and probably has a heart attack in the process, because it won’t be my fault, Buttercup, it will be on you,” he snarls. I’ve never seen him so desperate,, or determined. His rigid body softens, and his hand traces a tender path along my hairline. The transformation is instant and eerie, it’s like suddenly he is a different person. If only. “Look baby, I’m sorry I shouted. Daddy has put a lot of pressure on me, and I took it out on you. It won’t happen again.” His hand slips into mine, and he leads me over to the large bay window seat over looking the family church. He faces me, earnest, and I’m still reeling from the whiplash of his Jekyll and Hyde routine. “I wish you could just see how great it’s going to be. You have doubts. I get that, but we make sense. I will give you a good life, Buttercup. You know I will, and I promise your Grampa’s place will be safe. I’ll make sure all the debt is cleared the day you give me a son.”

  “What? That wasn’t the deal, Kurt. You said—”

  He repeats himself. The satisfied grin on his face is only surpassed by the smug tone in his voice. “Things change. Chet can’t have kids. They’ve been trying for years now and Daddy is fed up waiting. Daddy has already changed his Will so that when we give him a grandson, I get the estate. Chet gets some other properties. He’ll be taken care of, but the majority is mine, ours, I mean its ours.”

  “I don’t care about money Kurt.”

  “But you do care about your Grampa,” he states coldly, and I feel the latent threat like an icy shard through my heart. Kurt pats my hand, and it’s only because I see him do it that I know he’s touching me at all. I am completely numb. “You’ll never have to work again.”

  “I love my work.” Pulling my hands free, I cross my arms, as if that will help me hold on to a little bit of me.

  He scoffs. “I don’t want my wife… actually, you know what? I promised to make you happy and I mean that, anything you want, you got.”

  “I don’t want to marry you and I don’t want to live here.”

  His dismissal is instant, and just like that, my request is banished as if it was never spoken. “Apart from those, anything, you name it.”

  “I’d like to go home,” I lie, resigned and defeated once more. I don’t want to go home I want to go to him. Not that it matters.

  “You got it, just after Daddy has his cigar.”

  “THIS PLACE IS BEAUTIFUL.” HER fingers glide on the surface of the water. The sunlight explodes on the ripples in brief bright sparkles with each swish of her hand. The fresh waves make the slightest lapping sound. I wade into the river after her. The smooth boulder-size rocks on the bottom of the river provide just enough footing to stop me sinking into the deep silt of the riverbed.

  “It really is. I could live here.” The water is crystal clear and cool around my legs. My upper body is bathed in sunlight, and I feel warmed to my very core with that thought.

  I could live here with her.

  “No, you can’t. You belong with us, Pink. Please don’t leave.” Finn’s fingers wrap around my hand, and she tugs me around so I can see her face. Her long blonde hair flows like liquid sunshine around her beautiful face.

  “I’m not leaving you, Finn.” I brush her cheeks with my knuckles, and I like the way her eyes close, her smile widens, and her body relaxes when I touch her. She looks up at me, her long lashes framing a gaze so intense, it feels like she is seeing into my soul.

  “I think you are.” Her hand reaches to my face, but I capture it before she can comfort me with her loving touch.

  “Are you sad?”

  “How can I be sad when you’re so happy.” She holds my gaze for a long time, and I only break to look away when I feel the truth in her words echo deep in my co
re.

  “Do you remember the first time I took you to the lake?” I tilt my head and watch for her cheeks to pink right up. It barely takes the blink of my eye.

  “I’m not likely to forget that. Ever. Is that why you brought me here? Because it reminds you of our lake?” She steps forward and pushes herself deep into the river, swirling around so she is floating backward using a leisurely backward stroke to keep afloat.

  “I wanted you to see it.”

  “I can see why you like it. Will you swim with me?”

  “Of course.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?

  “Because I’m not her.” She shakes her head playfully, lightly laughing at my confusion, her knowing smile the last thing I see before she dives beneath the surface and disappears. I launch myself through the water, chasing the figure shimmering through the crystal water, deeper and further into the river with every stroke I take. Bursting through the surface, her smile dazzles as she turns and floats backward, gazing up at the endless blue, cloudless sky. I catch her foot in my hand and draw her closer. She glides toward me, offering no resistance. Her arms and legs slide around me like a second skin of pure silk.

  The current is barely moving downstream and my toes sink into the soft riverbed when I stop treading water and stand. A sweeping bend pools the wide river into a type of lagoon, where an ancient willow tree overhangs the water’s edge. Heavier branches hang low, dipping into the river and caging us beneath the protective bow of the timeless tree. A million tendrils dance and sway in the gentle breeze providing a safe canopy from the searing sun and a little privacy.

  “Hmm. you were right, the water feels great.” Her breath kisses my lips, fresh and sweet like peaches picked straight from the tree. She feels so damn good.

  “That’s not the only thing that feels great.” My shorts are soaked, slick and heavy against my skin. My erection swells painfully against its cotton prison every time her soft skin brushes mine. It’s bliss and torture in equal parts, being this close to heaven, holding back. Her arms slip around my neck and her hands slide up into my hair, she makes tight little fists and pulls. Her eyes lock on mine, her lips a millimeter from my mouth and already wet from her tongue. Her breath catches, and I can’t help but chase that breath with my eager lips. I remember this feeling so well.

  Her grip tightens, locking us together, anchoring us to each other as if our lives depended on the strength of her hold. I can feel her heart pounding against my chest, or is that mine? Her urgent lips are soft and full and taste so fucking sweet. My tongue dips inside and tangles with hers until we are both breathless and grinding on each other like feral animals. She moans into my mouth when my hands drop to cup her ass. My fingertips sink into the soft yet firm flesh, and her hips roll against me. Her kiss is just as eager, just as desperate. I break the kiss.

  “Don’t stop.” Her plea is heartfelt and breathless, her big blue eyes are filled with fat tears. Her pale skin glistens and her dark hair’s glossy, like fresh ink, wet and framing her beautiful face like a priceless work of art.

  “Buttercup?” How? What the hell? It’s not possible. Every kiss, every touch of her skin felt so fucking familiar, felt so good. How is this not Finn in my arms? And why am I terrified to close my eyes in case this dream changes back?

  “Pink, please, please don’t stop.”

  “Buttercup, what are you doing? You shouldn’t be here, like this.” I stiffen even if my attempt to arch out of her hold is admittedly half hearted at best.

  She feels so good.

  “I shouldn’t be doing a lot of things, Pink, but this isn’t one of those things.” She blinks, looks down for a second and is worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. Her throat bobs with trying to swallow the nerves that are nipping at her confidence, and as much as I want her, the fact that she’s so obviously conflicted isn’t what I want.

  “This is a dream,” I state for my own sense of sanity. It has to be. “You don’t mean that.”

  “Don’t I?” she quips and seems to shock herself with the fierceness of her instant response. “Tell me this doesn’t feel right because, for me, this is the only thing that’s ever felt right in my whole life. This.”

  Her hands glide and sweep my skin as if trying to cover as much surface as possible, and with a terrifying sense of panic in her eyes that it might be the only time she can, she pleads, “This feeling, the way your touch makes me feel…how can that be wrong when it feels like this.” Her palm presses flat against my heaving chest, momentarily calming the raging storm inside. Her gaze drifts from where she’s touching to my eyes, looking at me through long lashes with a mix of innocence and vulnerability that tears me apart. “Unless you don’t feel it too. But you do, don’t you? Don’t you?” Tension leaves her frame when I nod.

  “It’s too soon.”

  “Maybe, but I’m running out of time, Pink. Besides, you said yourself, this is just a dream,” she coaxes, quirking her lips in a temptingly sweet pout.

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “Why do you hope that?”

  “Because you’re engaged.”

  “And?”

  “And I’m not going to stop.” My fingers tear down the side of her panties, she moves to aid me, and in a second of frenzied grappling fuelled by lust and raw desire, we are both naked. Our bodies crash together in an explosion of splashes, incendiary heat, and unleashed passion.

  Her gaze locks with mine, and her pupils are so impossibly large, they look like the darkest night sky, endless with possibility and promise. She bites her lip and I’m not sure if she’s trying to suppress the raw wanton desire, which is rolling off of her in tidal waves, or she is fighting the rising tide of trepidation for what we are about to do. I’m hoping it’s the former, because I am so far past the point of no return, only a bullet in my brain is going to stop me now. Still, I won’t push; this has to come from her. The effort needed to let her make the next move makes the muscles in my jaw tick and my balls burn.

  She sucks back a whimper, and a tentative smile tips her lips as she once more wraps her long legs around my waist and eases her body a little further down mine. My cock is nudging right at her entrance.

  “You’re completely sure…because I’m hanging by a thread, princess.” I hold back the moan that’s rumbling deep in my chest.

  “I’m sure…I’m so sure…please…please take me.” She pants her plea, and it’s too much.

  I surge up and slide deep inside her with one strategically placed thrust. Her head drops to my chest and her sharp little breaths make me stop for a moment.

  “You okay?” I cup her cheek with one hand, stroking her silky skin and sweeping her long dark hair from her face.

  “Yes…yes. Oh my Lord, you feel so good.” She lets out a slow breath, and I can feel her tight muscles flutter up and down around my cock, making room for me. She sighs, and a shy smile curls her lips.

  Her hips give a tentative roll and I clench my jaw because that feels like fucking heaven…tight and hot, slick, and so fucking smooth. I grab her hips and move her along my cock…my speed and my depth. She throws her head back and cries out. That sound almost makes me blow, but she’s nowhere near ready. With her head tipped back, I cover one of her breasts and work her nipple with my tongue until it’s hard like a pebble. She grinds against me with the help of my hands, slow, deep and fucking perfect.

  I’ve died and gone to heaven.

  Switching to her other breast, I work the other nipple to the same perky state before my lips work their way up to her neck, kissing and sucking. I want to suck down so hard the mark I leave would be more like a brand than a love bite—mine—but I don’t.

  She’s not mine.

  I must react to that unpleasant thought because, in the next moment, she’s stopped moving with me and has my face cupped in her hands. He eyes search my face, and worry etches her beauty with tender concern.

  “What’s wrong?”
/>   “You’re not mine.” I confess. Pain slices deep inside my chest.

  “Right now I am, completely.” It’s not what I want to hear, and I’m about to say as much when she pulls me close, tugging me so there is no distance and our lips crash together, silencing us both. Her tight lithe body starts to move on mine…up and down…up and down. She grinds hard every once in a while when she’s feeling brave and relaxed enough to take my full length, biting back a squeal every time she does. Drawing my tongue into her mouth, she sucks it between her lips slowly releasing it. Her eyes are dark pools, and her lids are so low, she looks dazed.

  I shift her legs so they are both on my shoulders, she dips low but the water is supporting us both, and she doesn’t go under…she just goes deeper…I go deeper. Her whole body tenses, her muscles around my cock clamp down tight and start to ripple. She gasps…eyes wide, and a silent scream escapes her open mouth. Her whole body starts to convulse, and it takes all my skill to keep us both upright. It’s enough. She starts a reaction that my cock is too eager to follow. I feel the pinch and ache deep in my balls…the tingle in my spine, and my hips start to piston, relentless and fierce. Water around us swishes and splashes like a whirlpool until we both cling together at our mutual peak…cresting that euphoric high as wave after wave crashes through our bodies. We cling together, breathless and limp, and for me at least, barely standing.

  “Oh Pink, Pink. Pink!” She sighs my name softly at first then louder, the curious pitch to her voice is strange.

  A bright light makes me wince. My heart is hammering in my chest, and sweat coats my skin, which feels tight with too much sun. It takes a moment to focus.

  “Pink! Pink! Oh, there you are.” The voice gets louder, closer and over my shoulder I watch for Buttercup as she appears on the ridge behind me. I manage to grab my shirt to cover the raging erection straining at buttons of my jeans.