Page 2 of Endlessly Yours (The Wilder Brothers #10)

CHAPTER ONE

brOOKS

T he thing about living alone for so long was that you sometimes got tired of waking up with a hard dick and having nothing else to do with it other than introduce it to your opposite palm for the morning so you didn’t get bored with the other.

With a sigh, I leaned against the shower wall, hot water spilling down my back, as I wrapped my left hand around the base of my cock and tugged.

I licked my lips, imagining a faceless woman on her knees, her lips wrapped around the tip of my dick, careful of the piercings, with her tongue sliding in the slit at the tip.

I grunted, running my hand up and down my length, imagining the woman doing the same thing with her smaller hands.

She would bob her head, her tongue flattening as she would let me slide down that pretty little throat.

I’d pump in and out of those plump lips, loving the way that one hand would be squeezing the base of my cock, the other holding my thigh.

Her nails would dig in, just at the point where pleasure turned to pain, and I would wrap her hair around my fist and slide deeper down her throat.

Then I’d hold her still, eyes wide as I fucked her face, her hand moving down between her legs so she could get herself off, loving the way that she would take my cock.

Now my hand moved faster, imagining the way that my hips would move, and she would rock her body along with me.

Only in my head, the hair around my fist turned blonde, and familiar gray eyes stared up at me.

I cursed, but I didn’t stop. Instead, I squeezed even harder, imagining the way that she would lap up every drop of me.

I couldn’t help but think about the way that her cunt would squeeze my dick once I slid into her from behind.

She’d arch her back for me, and I would lick up every single tattoo that I knew dotted her spine.

Then I’d bite down over the rose on her shoulder, and slam home, filling her with my cum, as she clamped down around my cock, coming right along with me.

I opened my eyes, sighing at myself as I moved the head of the shower to wash my cum off the shower wall.

“You’re a sick, sick man, Brooks.”

I knew I needed to stop having dreams about Rory.

She wasn’t mine. I knew that. She knew that.

And we’d made our deals. Only I could practically smell her soft vanilla scent in my fucking bathroom.

It had to be her lotion or something. I didn’t want to think about it because I wasn’t going to touch Rory in any way possible.

I regretted every single moment we’d shared that night, and I wasn’t about to lean into that desire or attraction once again.

I was Pavlov’s dog, and she was the bell of my memories. Because as soon as she came around, my dick went to attention, and it took all within me not to figure out what the hell I was supposed to do with it.

As it was, Rory was spending way too many hours on the property. And I couldn’t get her out of my mind.

I didn’t want her. I wasn’t sure I even liked her. And I didn’t know her.

But my dick didn’t answer to me. Nor did it ever listen to me.

I did what it wanted. I quickly finished showering, paying extra attention to the Jacob’s ladder piercing I had on my dick.

It had hurt like hell when I had first gotten it, but that had been years ago, and it had healed up nicely.

All I had to do was make sure when I got myself off, I didn’t twist in a certain way.

The women that I had been with since that fateful night in an airport bar where I’d had too much to drink, and too much grief to realize what a mistake I was making, had liked the piercing.

Yes, they were a little afraid of it at first, especially if they wanted to wrap their mouth around it, but they got used to it.

And with the condoms, the specialty condoms that I used, they could still feel it when it hit that spot, and in the end, they begged for more.

But I never gave it to them.

I had always been a one-woman man. From high school on, I had loved one woman.

And Amara was gone. My wife, my soulmate, was dead.

And now I never stayed with the same woman for more than a night.

Was that breaking the promise that I hadn’t truly made to her?

I didn’t think so. I was already going to hell for multiple reasons.

By desecrating her memory by sleeping with a stranger that turned out not to be so unknown to me on the first anniversary of losing Amara, I’d taken the first of many steps in that direction.

What kind of hypocrite did that make me? What kind of hellscape did I deserve? Now, I slept with women that I met in bars, ones that I knew wanted nothing but a single night of pleasure, and we’d walk away without exchanging anything but a name.

And a few orgasms.

And yet with all those women over the years, it was Rory who continued to fill my daydreams when I needed to get off.

Rory—my brother’s wife’s best friend.

Of all the people in all of the world, it had to be her.

Honestly, the statistics didn’t make any sense. I had met Rory miles away from here. Hell, I hadn’t even lived outside of San Antonio at the time. My brothers and I had only moved here a couple of years ago when we had joined our cousins on this Wilder Retreat and Winery adventure.

I was a contractor and used my hands to build things for a living.

So when my cousins had needed help in restructuring and adding on, I jumped at the chance to use my company for that.

Because I was tired of sitting in a home that I used to share with my wife and pretending that I wasn’t dead inside.

There had been too many dark nights where I had wanted to follow her, and that told me I needed to get a grip.

Amara would never forgive me for so many things but leaning into one thought that had been one dark thought too far, would have broken her.

So I’d moved outside San Antonio to the Wilder Retreat and Winery, along with my brothers.

Now we were one big happy family, the ten of us.

And every other person was married, with most of them either already having kids or talking about them.

I was the single man out, and I didn’t care.

It wasn’t as if I was going to follow along with them.

After all, I had been the first one to get married.

I paused in my thinking. No, my cousin Evan and his wife Kendall had been married before me.

They had been young, married too quickly, gone through hell, and after their divorce, had caught up again and gotten married.

Their second chance was something that only made sense to them, but at least they were able to have one.

I was never going to have a second chance with Amara. Because cancer sucked, and it took everything from you.

I stopped pulling on my Henley and frowned.

Why the hell was I focusing on Amara this morning?

We had a family meeting, I had a shit ton of things to do at work, and I needed to avoid Rory because she kept coming onto the property to work with Ava.

That meant I didn’t have time to focus on the grief that seemed unending.

It had been enough time that I should be okay.

Or at least, should be able to go through the days without feeling like hell.

And honestly, that was the truth. I could have an entire day where I didn’t think about Amara, only to wake up in a desperate grip of grief.

Because I wasn’t the man that Amara had married. Nor was I the man that had held her as she took her last breath.

I wasn’t even the shell of a man who’d slowly meandered his way through the first two years without her.

I was Brooks Wilder. Contractor. Builder.

And grumpy asshole. I should probably put that last part on my business card. Just to warn people.

I looked in the mirror, realizing it was summer in Texas and 103 degrees today, and pulled off my Henley to find a T-shirt.

Sometimes I forgot that I didn’t live in the North anymore.

Amara and I had lived up in Wisconsin for a few years, and that had been ingrained in me enough that I’d forgotten my Texas roots for a moment when I’d been on autopilot.

I shoved my feet into my work boots, tied them up, grabbed my wallet, keys, and phone, and hoped to hell that somebody made coffee at the retreat.

When my cousins had first opened Wilder Brothers , the Wilder Retreat and Winery, they’d just gotten out of the military and had needed to figure out what they were going to do with their lives.

That side of the family had all joined up to the Air Force, other than our cousin Eliza, who’d married into the military instead with her first husband.

My brothers and I hadn’t joined the service but had gone our own ways.

So when the cousins needed a way to blend back into society and figure out what to do with the rest of their lives, they bought this land with the winery and inn that had already been established.

Over the years they’d added to it, and I had helped along the way. Now it was one of the top ten inns and wineries in the state of Texas. Which, considering the size of Texas, was a big thing.

We had grown exponentially in the past few years, to the point that we had waitlists, celebrity weddings, and high-stakes security that my brother helped run.

All in all, I was glad that I didn’t have to deal with a lot of the business aspects of it.

The cousins had all originally lived on the property as well.

Now most of them had moved on with their families and moved out with their families, but each living close enough that they could be at the retreat in an emergency quickly.

Some of them still lived on the land itself because there was enough acreage for that to happen.

In fact, my brothers and I had bought into the family estate by buying the land next to the original inn.

So now we have double the acreage and could expand.