Page 3 of Lonesome Man (The Smith Brothers #4)

The kiss deepened, and I focused on why I was here.

I was here for him, so he could take pleasure from me.

No one would ever know what we did together.

I’d be gone in two weeks, then I’d never see him again.

I didn’t need to agonize over leaving him, or feel guilty about messing with his emotions.

I could let all the walls drop. I could be with him, love him like a wife would, and feel no guilt and no shame.

His grip on my ass tightened, and he pressed against me, grinding his hard cock between my spread thighs. It was insane, but I wanted him, right then, so fucking badly. “I need you,” I said against his lips. “I need to feel you inside me.”

A shudder went through his big body. “Fuck,” he groaned. “You deserve better than to be fucked against the side of the truck, Libs, but I can’t wait to have you.”

Libs. My heart crashed against my ribs.

We’d been in each other’s company for two minutes and I was so hot for him, my panties were soaked. “Your wife wants to be fucked by her husband. That’s what I deserve,” I said, not sure where my courage came from, but the anonymity was so incredibly freeing.

He shuddered again, his hand gripping my bare thigh. His skin was rough as hell, and for some reason that turned me on even more. I dropped my legs long enough for him to yank my underwear off and shove them in his pocket.

He slid his fingers over my bare pussy.

“So fucking wet,” he groaned.

“You do that to me,” I rasped, not shy, not awkward, just needy as hell for him. Knowing it was just him and me out here, that I could let this happen and it was safe, god, it was liberating.

I yanked on his belt, undoing it quickly, then popped the button and hurriedly tugged down his zipper.

He hoisted me back up, and I wrapped my legs around him again, while he kissed me wildly, just like desperate lovers reunited.

Then the head of his bare cock was right there at my opening.

He was thick, so much so that when he started pushing inside me I gasped for breath.

“Holy shit, Tuck, you’re so big.” I whimpered. “I missed this so much,” I added, because I was his wife and this was our reunion, not our first time. He slid deeper. “ Oh fuck .”

Tucker Smith was inside me. How was this happening? How was this my life? I felt like I’d won the goddamn lottery.

“You missed your husband’s cock, didn’t you?” he muttered against my lips.

My pussy spasmed. “Yes, I missed you so much,” I said, thighs shaking. He was fucking huge everywhere. I’d never had a cock that big inside me and there was a pinch of pain from the stretch, but nothing I couldn’t handle, and honestly, he felt so impossibly good.

I’d never been fucked without a condom before, either, but that was part of the wife experience he’d asked for.

He wanted it raw. So I’d been tested and gone on the pill, and I loved that too.

Loved that I got to play out this fantasy with him, because it was mine as well, wasn’t it? All of this was my fantasy too.

He slid out and thrust back in, fucking me hard, like a guy who hadn’t been inside a woman for an entire year.

I didn’t expect him to last long, and I could tell he wasn’t going to, not with the way he trembled, not with how he was now slamming into me, pinning me against the cold steel of his tuck, not when I was so close to coming myself from just this.

I never came from sex alone, but everything about this—seeing Tucker for the first time face to face, the role-play, being fucked by him—it was wrong and dirty and sexy as hell.

My pussy spasmed, clamping down hard. I threw my head back, and his big hand was there, protecting it, as I orgasmed, crying out, pulling him with me while I sucked and kissed his gorgeous lips.

“Fuck,” he growled. “That’s it, Libby, come for me. Come all over my cock like a good little wife.”

That’s exactly what I’d just done.

He grunted, then groaned low as he slammed into me, pulsing heavily, pumping me full of come, holding himself deep, thrusting and grinding, while I panted and gasped for breath.

Finally, he lifted his head and kissed me deeply, then gentling slowly, making my head spin. “That was fucking perfect, Libs.”

His praise made my belly swoop. I smiled up at him and hoped my lips weren’t as trembly as they felt.

I knew what he was saying, without him having to break character.

I’d done good. I’d given him what he wanted.

No, there was no way I could say who I was, not now.

“Was pretty good from where I’m standing as well,” I said, unable to stop looking at him, at that handsome face.

How many times had I imagined being here with him? Too many.

He chuckled, pressed a kiss to my forehead, and slid out of me carefully. His come gushed out of me, sliding down my thigh when he lowered me to my feet. I looked down and Tucker did the same. When I looked back up, my face heated for some stupid reason, but he made a low, growly sound.

He liked seeing his come on me. He took my panties from his pocket, then stunned me by crouching and using them to clean me up before putting them back in his pocket.

He straightened, then gently eased me forward and opened the truck door for me. “Let’s get you home. It’s getting cold.”

I bit my lip and nodded, climbing in. He closed the door behind me, then strode over to collect my bags.

I couldn’t believe I’d just had sex with him.

With Tucker. Four years ago, he’d still been my best friend, my dream guy, my hot-as-hell mountain man, who I wanted so badly I ached, but who would forever be out of reach for so many reasons.

So no, I didn’t feel used or weird despite the fact that he’d paid for it, that he’d paid for me.

Rather, I felt warm all over—excited to be here with him.

Yes, there was a little bit of guilt, but it wasn’t like I’d planned this.

He strode back, put my bags in the bed of the truck and got in, then glanced over at me. “Made your favorite for dinner.”

“You did?”

He nodded, started the truck, and we headed off.

I’d answered a questionnaire several weeks ago that asked me all kinds of things about myself.

Including my favorite meal, what else I liked to eat.

My favorite scent, flower, TV shows, music.

I’d been given the same info about him, that part of the brief I had read, but still, nothing had tipped me off.

How could it? I never in a million years thought I’d get off that plane and find Tucker waiting for me. “Good, ’cause I’m starved.”

He glanced over at me again, his gaze sliding down my body. “Me too.”

His voice was deep and rough, and there was no missing his meaning.

Tucker was going to make the most of his time with me, and I was more than happy with that.

My nerves had settled, not surprising. Sex was a serious icebreaker.

The intimacy side of this was going to be harder for me, though, especially now, but whatever happened over the next two weeks, I couldn’t allow myself to completely fall for this man.

So when he said, “Come ’ere,” in that sexy voice of his, my nerves burst back to life, and I did what he asked and slid across the bench seat and pressed into his side. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders, and I was finding it hard to breathe normally again.

We drove over a rise and the house came into view. It was breathtaking, a two-story with walls made of thick logs stacked on top of each other, and there was a wide wraparound porch that surrounded the entire house. A large barn stood beside it as well as a few other smaller outbuildings.

I nearly said how beautiful it was, but I stopped myself. We were still in play, so I’d already know what it looked like.

Tucker pulled to a stop. “Wait there.” He got out and rounded the hood again, opening the door for me. “Head inside, baby, I’ll get the bags.”

I nodded, pressed my hand to his chest and looked up at him.

He leaned in and kissed me, making a humming sound of contentment when he did.

It was so remote out here; we were literally in the middle of nowhere.

I knew how lonely a life like this could be, but he was totally alone now that his parents were gone.

An awful churning filled my belly, while memories of the past, of my childhood tried to force their way forward.

I quickly shoved them down before they could take hold.

No wonder he did this. He used to play the loneliness off when we talked, that he liked the peace, but going without physical contact for so long, he had to be craving another human being, just someone to talk to, a simple touch. A hug.

My heart clenched, hurting for him.

I headed inside while he grabbed the bags and followed. A fire crackled in the living room. It was warm and cozy, and I loved it.

“Dinner smells amazing.”

“I did the potatoes the way you like. Come on.” He reached for my hand and led me upstairs and into what was obviously his bedroom.

The bed was intricately carved wood, the rest of the furniture was the same. It smelled fresh in here, with a hint of vanilla, my favorite scent. “You wanna grab a shower? There’s time before the food’s ready.”

“Yeah, that’d be great,” I said, trying not to let the awkwardness sink in.

He strode over to me, his strong hands curling around my upper arms. “Really fucking glad you’re here, Libs,” he said, voice husky.

It was another thing that a husband would say to his wife after time apart, but I knew it was the real woman under the fantasy he was talking to. That it had come from a place of deep loneliness, and he meant it. “Me too,” I whispered.

He’d wanted me as much as I had him, and he had no idea that the real Libby was standing in front of him, that it was the real Libby he’d just kissed.