Page 5 of Lonesome Man (The Smith Brothers #4)

Chapter Four

Libby

When I woke I was in the bedroom alone. Music played quietly downstairs and the smell and sounds of cooking drifted up from the kitchen.

I stretched, then shivered when I felt the subtle aches in my body.

I’d never experienced anything like I had last night with Tucker.

The things he said, Jesus, I’d never been more turned on in all my life.

I’d never come that hard either. How the hell would I survive two weeks?

Two weeks of dirty, sexy Tucker giving me insanely good orgasms and the kind of sex I’d only ever fantasized about.

I never thought I’d be into anything kinky like this, especially role-playing or breeding fantasies, but I was… Shit, it was so hot.

This whole thing was beyond confusing. I was an actor, I was playing a role—but pretending to be Tucker’s wife was definitely no hardship.

Not at all. I didn’t have to fake my enthusiasm at being with him, because I’d wanted this, to be with him like this, for so damn long.

Getting all caught up in this fantasy would be a mistake though.

I had to regulate my emotions and, whatever it took, not let my heart get carried away.

It’d be so easy to dwell in my guilt, but I couldn’t do that either. It wouldn’t be fair to Tucker to tell him the truth, not now. Not when nothing had changed, and the reasons we couldn’t be together beyond this still existed.

God, over the years we’d meant so much to each other.

We’d been best friends; he’d been my only friend for a long time.

He’d work on silly stories all week to tell me during our Friday calls just to make me laugh.

Then when I went to college, the occasional call, and the long emails he’d sent telling me how much he missed me, and the last one, when he’d asked me to come and see him, to take a chance on him, to finally see if this thing between us was as real as it felt…

I’d known then, what I absolutely knew now—yes, it was real.

Being here with him made it clear just how compatible we were in every way.

If I’d come here four years ago, I would have fallen even harder for him.

I would have stayed here, and eventually, I would have resented it.

I would have resented him. So I told him I wasn’t ready for what he wanted and that we needed to cool it for a while—then I’d ghosted him, like a fucking coward, afraid if I gave him another shot, if I let him, he’d talk me around and I’d give in.

I’d give everything up for him, everything that I’d worked so hard for.

So no, I could never tell him who I was. Not after that, not after what I did to him to protect myself.

I was here now. By some fluke, some twist of fate, I was here with Tucker, like he’d wanted. So I could dwell on the past, or I could enjoy the time I had with him. I would make this perfect for him and try not to overthink it.

He still wants you.

And I still wanted him. But two weeks was all I could allow myself.

Pushing back the covers, I climbed out of bed and hit the bathroom. After a quick shower, I tied my hair back and dressed. My stomach growled and fluttered with nerves at the same time as I took the stairs and walked into the kitchen.

Tucker stood at the counter, dishing up whatever it was he’d cooked. By the smell of it, bacon. He was shirtless, in only a pair of gray track pants. His back was muscled and smooth, well, except for the pink lines across it I’d made with my fingernails.

No black.

We weren’t playing this morning. My nerves shot higher. Role-playing some made-up version of myself was so much easier than reality, especially with him.

He put the pan down and turned, his perfect lips, surrounded by that sexy beard, curving when he saw me.

His green gaze flicked down my body, taking in my bare legs and shorts, then the soft hooded sweatshirt I’d pulled on, then finally, my makeup-free face.

He said in his brief that he liked bare skin or only a little makeup and so did I, which made things easier.

He walked across the kitchen and pulled me into his arms, wrapping me in a mountain-man bear hug. “Morning, Ruth,” he said, using the false name I’d given.

Could this get any more complicated? My real name was my “fake” name, and as far as Tucker knew, my fake name was my real name.

“Morning,” I said, running my hands up and down his bare back, while my face heated and I told myself over and over not to be weird or awkward now that I had to be myself, though this was more of an act than when we were role-playing.

It was cold outside, a light dusting of snow on several of the mountain peaks in the distance, but his skin was hot.

“You sleep okay, darlin’?”

“Yeah, really good,” I said, sounding all breathless.

He lifted his head, his hot, rough-skinned hands going to either side of my face. “Yesterday… Christ, last night, it was fucking perfect.” He grinned. “You did so good, darlin’. Made my fucking year.”

His tone was different now, some of his intensity gone.

He searched my eyes, rubbing my back. “Things were pretty intense, huh?”

I nodded. “Yeah,” I said, my belly going all squirmy.

“You okay with everything?”

This was my Tucker, sweet and kind and gorgeous.

Seeing this little show of uncertainty from him, making sure I was okay, washed my nerves away, and all I wanted to do was put him at ease.

This was my chance to give him me , to give him his Libby, even if he never knew the truth. I smiled up at him. “Yes, absolutely.”

“I was so excited to see you, and you were just so fucking perfect, Ruth, I lost my head.” He gave me another devastatingly handsome grin.

“I didn’t even tell you anything about the house or the property, but I really want you to enjoy yourself while you’re here.

I don’t want you to think of this as work.

I want you to think of this as a vacation…

with a fuckload of orgasms. But if you’re not in the mood, or you’re sore or whatever, we’ll do something else, yeah?

Though, I gotta say, you’re probably the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, so keeping my hands to myself won’t be easy. ”

I blinked up at him, my face heating again. “No… I’m not…” I laughed awkwardly. “You don’t have to say?—”

“Not feeding you a line, darlin’. Don’t need to.

The beauty of this arrangement is that we can both completely let go, no bullshit, even when we’re role-playing, because even then, what I say to you, I mean.

” His hands slid down to my hips and he squeezed, making me suck in a breath.

“This face,” he said, brushing his thumb along my jaw.

“The hair, those lips, this…fuck, this body,” he said, giving me another squeeze.

“It was like you were plucked out of my fantasies and delivered right to my mountain. No, I will never, ever force you to do anything you don’t want to, but know, I really fucking want you, and if you’re into it, I’ll indulge myself like a kid in a fucking candy store while I have you here. ”

My face got even hotter, and he chuckled, brushing the backs of his fingers over my cheek. “Really like the way you blush all the time.”

“It’s a curse,” I rasped, still recovering from what he’d just said.

He was making it clear he wanted me to be just as into him as he was me, as if he hadn’t gotten that point across from the moment I arrived.

But he was right, I didn’t have to try to impress him or wonder if we were right for each other, that’s not what this was.

In the spirit of that, I decided to be just as open with him, at least as far as my attraction to him went.

“Oh, I’m into it. You are…” I chewed my lip.

“Gorgeous, and if we’re talking about fantasies, you could have been plucked out of a few of mine as well.

” I’d had more fantasies about this man than he’d ever know.

“Sexy, huge mountain man all to myself? Yes, please.” His smile widened, and I couldn’t hold back my own, or stop my stupid hot cheeks that were probably glowing right now.

“Honestly, last night was the best sex I’ve ever had. ”

His smile slipped a little. “I’m not feeding you lines, Ruth, don’t want you to either.”

I held up my hands. “I’m not feeding you a line.

I never come like that, not without a whole lot of foreplay, definitely not from sex alone.

” I shrugged. “I don’t know what it is.” Yes, you do.

It’s him. It’s all him. “But you make me feel at ease, safe, I guess, and being out here…” I shrugged again.

“Like you said, there’s no need to bullshit. ”

He stared down at me, his gaze searching mine, then he licked his lower lip, not trying to be seductive, but it just was. Everything about him was. I still didn’t think he believed me, though.

He thought I was a sex worker. “A lot of sex doesn’t necessarily mean good sex,” I said.

He nodded. “That’s true.”

“Not that I’ve had that much sex,” I said for reasons unknown. I mean, it didn’t matter how many partners someone had. I didn’t care, and obviously Tucker didn’t, but I wanted him to at least know one thing about me that was true.

His brows shot up. “No?”

That was probably the wrong thing to say, though, considering why I was here. Shit. “I mean, compared to some, I haven’t had that many, um…clients before you. I’m picky, I guess.”

He kind of stiffened. “Yeah? I assumed you’d been doing this a while…”

“Jess wouldn’t have sent me if she didn’t think I was the woman for the job.” I laughed, and it sounded a little strained even to me. “Do you have any complaints? If so, please report them to HR,” I said in a silly voice, then blushed again because I was a fucking idiot.

Luckily, his smile returned, full wattage. “Definitely no complaints.”

“Glad to hear it. Now, I assume that breakfast is for me? It smells freaking amazing, and as usual, I’m starved.”

He steered me toward the table. “Then sit, woman, and let me feed you.”

Tucker put a large plate of food in front of me, made us coffee, then joined me at the table.

“Like I said, I want you to make yourself at home, Ruth. While you’re here, what’s mine is yours. Eat what you want, when you want, go where you want. Nothing here is out of bounds, yeah?”

“Thanks, I’ll do that,” I said and quickly looked away when I found myself caught up in those gorgeous green eyes of his.

“So, how long have you been doing this?” he asked, and I felt his gaze burning into me as I took a fortifying sip of my coffee.

“Oh, only a little while. I’m an actor and a writer—in other words, a starving artist.” I laughed. “I’ve known Jess a long time and got into escorting through her, um…last year.”

“Yeah? An actor?” His Adam’s apple slid up and down his throat at the mention of what I did.

Sharing real details about myself, within reason, wasn’t a huge risk, because there is no way in a million years Tucker would think the real Libby was an escort, fake or not, even if we were both actors. “Yep.”

“You been in anything I would have seen?”

“I do theater mainly,” I said.

He looked down at his plate. “I have…had a friend who did theater in the city,” he said, then looked up and there was pain in his eyes.

Had.

Had a friend.

He was talking about me. I’d put that pain there.

“What happened?” Stop. Shut the hell up.

He shrugged a broad shoulder and flashed me his beautiful grin. “I’m not all that sure to be honest, but it sucked.” He chuckled. “Enough of my sob story. How about I show you some of the property after breakfast?”

“I’d love that,” I said.

“Excellent. Then eat up, darlin’, and we’ll head off.”