Page 9 of Lonesome Man (The Smith Brothers #4)

Chapter Seven

Libby

Somehow, a week had already passed. Seven days of the best orgasms of my life, hanging with Tucker, my best friend, only he had no idea it was the real Libby sleeping beside him every night.

Chewing my lip, I glanced out the window.

It was the first time I’d been on my own since I got here.

It was lightly snowing, and Tuck was out there somewhere chopping down trees for firewood.

It looked like he had more than enough wood to me, but it had seemed pretty important to him when he’d left a couple hours ago. So I guess I was wrong.

I’d decided to use the alone time to work, and my laptop was open on the table.

I hadn’t had a chance to check my email that often since I got here, and when I checked earlier, there was a message from my agent.

Someone was interested in my script. I needed to do some edits, then send it back ASAP.

This was exciting…beyond exciting. I’d had interest before, only to have it sputter out, so I was trying not to get my hopes up, but this felt different.

The fact that I was here with Tucker when I heard news about this particular script wasn’t lost on me.

This wasn’t just any story, this was our story.

I’d started writing it as a way of dealing with the loss I felt without him in my life.

It had consumed me, was my best work, and the script that had finally landed me an agent.

When he’d asked me what my play was about, I thought I’d freaking perish right there and then.

Rubbing at the goose bumps that now prickled across my arms, I ignored the swirl of nerves and guilt inside me and forced myself to read over the scene I’d rewritten.

I made a few notes, then got back to editing.

I looked up when I heard the door close, followed by the thud of boots on the kitchen floor. I’d been so focused that hours had passed, and I suddenly realized I was sitting in the dark.

Tucker switched on the light, shrugging off his puffer jacket. His face was flushed from the cold, and his gaze moved over me, then the laptop and the stack of notes beside me.

“What’s going on?” His gorgeous lips curled up as he tugged off his woolen hat.

Before I knew what I was doing, I’d shot to my feet, rounded the table, and ran at him. I wrapped my arms around him, my excitement bubbling inside me. “I got an email from my agent. There’s serious interest in my script!”

His smile widened. “Fuck, baby, that’s awesome. What did I say?”

I chuckled. “Yes, yes, you are the all-seeing oracle.” I didn’t know if we were in character or not.

Honestly, we had kind of fallen into this in-between.

Or maybe it was that even when we weren’t in character, we were affectionate, and yeah, couldn’t keep our hands off each other.

I wanted him constantly, and I wasn’t going to waste one minute of my limited time with him.

“That’s right,” he said, his eyes lighting up before flexing his biceps. “Glad you’re finally seeing it.”

God, Tucker had me in a constant state of wanting to swoon, laugh, and jump him in unison. “I just have to do some edits and send it back…but, I can do it later. I don’t want to cut into your?—”

“Fuck that,” he said, not letting me finish. “You do what you have to do, and I’ll make dinner.”

We never brought up the reason I was here, and Tucker obviously didn’t want me to either. “You’ve been out working all day. You shouldn’t have to do that. I’ll finish this, then cook for you. I’m not even hungry,” I lied.

“When was the last time you ate?”

I bit my lip.

“You haven’t eaten since breakfast, have you?”

I shook my head.

He took my chin, kissed me hard, then slapped me on the ass. “Get back to work, woman. Let your man cook for you.”

I nodded and wondered what he saw in my eyes when I looked up at him.

Could he see the truth? I thought I couldn’t love him more before we were thrown together like this, but I’d been wrong—I was so gone for this man, it was terrifying.

I’d tried really freaking hard not to let myself fall for him, but I had. It was impossible not to.

“Thanks,” I whispered, then lifted on my toes and took another kiss, this one soft and sweet.

He smiled against my lips. “Anything for you, Libs,” he said huskily. Then stepped back and tugged off his sweater, revealing a black thermal.

Okay, so we were in play.

I went back to the table, and it was hard to look away from him and get back to work as he moved around the kitchen, but I forced myself to do it.

This was my future, this script, my life back in the city.

Even if I had changed my mind, even if I never wanted to leave here, I couldn’t stay, because Tucker would never forgive me for this deception.

He’d be humiliated, angry, hurt. The time to own up was the minute I walked off that plane and recognized him.

I’d chosen not to. I chose to live out my own fantasy.

Any way you looked at it, what I’d done was totally messed up.

Shoving those thoughts from my mind, I ignored the guilt and regret and got back to work.

Tucker

Slinging the towel around my hips, I stepped out of the shower.

After dinner, I’d left Libby…fuck, Ruth, working on her script.

She’d been so excited. The way she’d lit up when she told me her news was branded on my fucking brain.

Quickly drying off, I rubbed the towel over my hair. Shit was getting fucking complicated.

After I’d put on that black shirt without thinking several days ago, and we’d fucked on the couch—the way she’d pulled me into that scene, the way I’d reacted to the things she’d said—something had changed.

The lines were blurred somehow. Reality and fantasy were mingling, and I was starting to have trouble separating the two.

I wanted this woman twenty-four seven, which was why I’d forced myself to leave the house today.

I’d fucked her multiple times a day since she’d gotten here.

She seemed to want it, but then she was paid to make me think that, right?

And I was getting—who the fuck was I kidding, I already was addicted to her, and not just when she was playing Libby.

It had all become too goddamn intense. My head was all over the place.

Honestly, the woman downstairs had me fucking mesmerized, and when she played Libby, it was too real, or at least how I’d always imagined things with Libs would be if she were here with me.

So yeah, I’d left this morning, even though I already had more than enough wood to last the winter and halfway through the next, because I was feeling things for this girl that I shouldn’t.

There was something almost…familiar about her, even when she was out of character.

She made me feel like I could totally be myself, and I was terrified that when she left in a week’s time, I wouldn’t fucking recover from it.

I shoved my fingers through my hair. I needed to get this thing back on track.

I had to stop thinking like this and remember why she was here.

Ruth was being paid to fuck me. She was an escort, and an actor, and that look in her eyes that made my heart pound and my fucking palms sweat was just an act as well, all part of the role she was playing.

She wasn’t falling for me, there would be no happily ever after for us—because she wasn’t Libby.

Ruth was here for me, to make all my dirty fucking dreams and deepest fantasies come true.

It didn’t matter how I’d feel after she left. I’d worry about that when it happened. For now, while I had her here, I was going to make the most of it.

Tossing my towel in the laundry basket, I strode into my room and tugged on a pair of black track pants. I’d had a bit of a wobble the last few days, that’s all, but I was solid now. I was good, and I wanted to play.

The fire was roaring downstairs, so I didn’t bother with a shirt, and by the time I jogged downstairs and hit the living room, I was back in the fantasy and hard as fuck for my little wife.

Being away from her all day, after fucking her so often, had been torture, but then it had been totally self-inflicted. I’d wasted precious time.

When I walked into the living room, I almost fell over my own fucking feet.

She was sitting cross-legged in front of the fire, her reading glasses, which I’d seen for the first time today when I walked into the kitchen, still perched on her nose while she flicked through one of the books from my shelf.

Christ, her lips were darker, puffy from her biting them while she’d been focused on her work.

She glanced up and smiled at me, then her gaze immediately slid down my bare chest and landed on my dick that was tenting the front of my track pants, and her lips parted.

I said nothing as I strode across the living room and sat in my recliner.

“You’ve been working hard all day. Feel better after a nice shower?” she asked, turning to fully face me.

“Would’ve been better if you’d joined me.” My voice sounded deeper, rougher from how much I wanted her, and I didn’t even try to hide it, there was no reason to.

“All you had to do was ask and I would’ve come and scrubbed your back,” she said, that cute, sexy smile curving her pretty lips.

I rested a hand on my stomach, and her gaze was drawn to the movement. I slid my palm up and down my abs. She didn’t move, watching, waiting. She may be doing this for the money, but there was no missing the way she was breathing faster or the little tremor that moved through her sweet, curvy body.

Hooking my hand in the waistband of my pants, I pushed them down and my cock sprung free. I hooked the elastic under my balls, and my little wife sucked in a breath. My cock was like a hot steel rod against my stomach. Fuck, I ached for some attention from this woman.

I crooked my finger at her. “Come here, Libby, it’s about time you looked after your husband.”

She didn’t stand. She shifted onto her hands and knees, then fucking crawled toward me.

Seeing her like that, the hungry look on her face…

Yeah, fuck, new kink unlocked. I’d never been overly dominant.

I liked to laugh, have fun, but there was something about this girl, or maybe this situation, that was bringing out a different side of me.

You know exactly what is doing this to you.

My Libby, the real Libby, had fucking broken me.

She’d broken my heart when she’d left me all alone.

I’d lived for our once-a-week radio calls when we were kids, and I’d checked my email constantly when she’d gone off to college and we continued to talk as we’d gotten older.

I’d wanted more, and I’d pushed for it. I’d made sure she understood where I wanted our relationship to go, but I’d pushed hard—too fucking hard, because she’d cut me off as if I’d never existed.

All my fantasies of one day flying to visit her, or her coming here to see me, of finally holding her for real, of kissing her, making love to her had been blown apart.

I’d only seen one photo of her, the one she’d sent me.

I hadn’t even been able to see her face clearly, but I didn’t need to know what she looked like, that didn’t matter to me because I was already in love with her.

I’d dreamed of getting down on one knee, of asking her to marry me. I’d seen our wedding, played out the honeymoon in my head, then imagined her growing round with our babies. Our lives together had become real to me. I’d believed in it, that one day I’d have that with her.

Yeah, it was messed up, naive maybe, but every part of me had believed it.

I was hurt, and I was fucking angry.

Hurting her back wasn’t something I wanted, but I did want to punish her, I realized.

I wanted to show her what she’d missed out on.

Right then, I wanted to take her over my knee and spank her until she begged for my forgiveness for breaking me, for breaking us.

I wanted her to shake and cry while she came for me—I wanted her to tell me how much she loved me.

How much she would always love me, just as I would her.

I spread my legs wider so my dream girl could crawl between them.

That’s the real reason this sexy little woman kneeling between my knees, gripping my thighs and waiting for my next order, was here.

Not just to live out the sweet part of my fantasy, the fucking and laughing, the affection and companionship, but because I needed to hear her tell me she was sorry as well, for throwing me away.

I hadn’t realized it until now, or how badly I needed to hear her apologize, but I did.

Before I let my Libby go for real, I needed to hear it, and this was the only way I could.

I kept my hands on the arms of the chair. “You went away,” I said roughly, the words wrenched from me. “You left me here all alone, and you didn’t say goodbye.”

My little wife stilled, then blinked up at me, it was just for a split second, before she drew in a shaky breath.

I could see the wheels turning behind those beautiful eyes, switching gears, following my lead.

Finally, she licked her lips, biting down on the side of the lower one.

It made her look innocent and sexy, and made me even fucking harder.

Her hands on my thighs flexed, squeezing. “I…I’m so sorry, Tuck,” she choked out.

I shook my head. “That’s not enough, it’s nowhere near good enough,” I said, shaking, almost fucking panting at this point. This wasn’t me, I wasn’t this man, or at least I hadn’t thought I was. But fuck, I needed this. “You’re going to have to show me how sorry you are.”

Her lashes fluttered. Christ, her eyes were actually glossy as she swallowed audibly. “Whatever you need to believe me, to believe just how sorry I am, I’ll do it.”

I believed her. I believed everything out of her perfect, pouty mouth. I gripped the arms of my chair harder. “You can start by sucking my cock down your pretty throat, as deep as you can get it.” I held her gaze. “I want to hear you choking on it, Libby, do you understand?”

Her cheeks darkened even more, but she nodded. “I understand.”