Wife Me Bad Boy (3 page)

It was a question I’d been grappling with my entire adult life, and I still didn’t know the answer.

“The ceremony was beautiful,” I said.

“Come on, Grant. I know you hate weddings. You’ve said so a million times.”

“This one was different.”

“Sure it was.”

“Really. I liked it. I can tell they’re going to be happy together.”

She looked up at me and smiled. She was wearing the same perfume she’d worn since high school. I caught the scent and it brought me right back. It had always driven me wild with desire. Even now, when I was in department stores, I’d pick up a bottle and that smell would make me hard. I maneuvered myself so that my throbbing cock wasn’t tenting my pants quite so obviously.

“I’m glad,” she said.

God, that perfume was destroying me. I inhaled deeply and shut my eyes. Seventeen years I’d been lusting after this girl. I’d been watching over her, making sure nothing bad ever happened, but I couldn’t help wonder if I’d been holding her back too. I hated every guy she’d ever dated, every guy that so much as looked at her, and she’d picked up on that. I was sure of it. It must have affected her ability to make those relationships work. I hadn’t meant to do it, but she was still single, and that was partly my fault.

I looked at her. My eyes devoured her body. She was even more beautiful now than she’d been when she was seventeen. Her breasts were fuller. Her thighs and hips were broader. There was a look in her eyes that told me she knew more than she was letting on. She’d been a girl back then. Now she was a woman. It made me want her even more.

I was never one of those men that expected women to starve themselves. Lacey’s curves were intoxicating to me.

Could I do it? Could I do what I’d sworn to myself I’d never allow. Could I allow myself the pleasure of Lacey’s body? Could I live with myself if I did?

It was in a moment of weakness, fueled by the picture Lacey presented in that light blue dress, but I made my decision. I wanted her. I’d wanted her so badly, for so long, that it would be a crime to deny myself any longer. I had to have her. I had to claim her. I had to make her mine.

Lacey, the daughter of the man I loved as my own father, the girl I’d watched from a distance for as long as I could remember, would submit to me. She’d scream my name. She’d feel my cock pulse in orgasm, deep within her body.

It would be a sin. God knows, it would be a crime against everything I believed. But isn’t forbidden pleasure the sweetest?

It was no ordinary night. It was Jackson’s wedding night. It was a night we’d all been waiting a very long time for. It was a night when anything was possible.

And maybe, just maybe, it was a night I could get away with the impossible. I could taste Lacey. I could know her sweet flesh. I could put myself inside her writhing, sweating body. I could do what I’d promised I’d never do. Just this once, on this one special night, I could have what I wanted most, and no one but she and I would ever know it happened.

“You want to go get a drink?” I said to her.

The happy couple had gone off with the photographer. Everyone else was milling around, looks of satisfaction on their faces at having witnessed a beautiful ceremony. Forrester and Grady were doing a great job of hosting the guests, making sure they found their way to the bar that had been set up on the freshly painted porch of Jackson’s new house. Waiters in crisp, white shirts and black ties were popping open corks on bottles of champagne.

No one would miss us if we disappeared for a little while. No one would know what we’d done. Maybe even the old man himself, Lacey’s father, would forgive us this one moment of abandon.

“Sure,” she said.

She started making her way toward the bar but I stopped her.

“Let me show you something,” I said. “I’ve got a bar of my own hidden in the barn.”

“Grant,” she said, shaking her head. She knew all too well about my secret stash in the barn.

“Just one drink,” I said, winking. “The party will be fine without us for a little while.”

Reluctantly, she let me take her by the hand and lead her to the barn. It had been her father’s barn, and now it belonged to the Brotherhood, to all of us.

But that didn’t stop me from thinking of it as mine. I’d always thought of it as mine, even when the old man was still alive. Even then, I was the only one who ever used it, apart from Lacey when she wanted to ride the horses. It was the place I kept my tools for the vineyard, stabled my horses, stored my old cars and bikes. And it was the only place I’d ever allowed myself to fantasize about the girl I craved most in the world. Yes, it was my place.

I pushed open the big, red door and lit a kerosene lamp that hung just inside. It gave the barn a warm glow. At the far end, the horses whinnied at the disturbance before quietening again. I closed the door, shutting out the din of the party outside.

Lacey looked away when I turned to her. She’d been watching my every move.

“Up here,” I said, holding the wooden ladder that led up to the loft.

“Grant, shouldn’t we be joining the celebration?” she said.

I didn’t answer. I just looked at her, into her beautiful, blue eyes, as if they were deep pools of water that I was going to fall into.

She hesitated. Everyone who ever grew up on a farm knows what happens in the lofts of barns. It was no innocent decision when she began climbing the steps of the ladder. I held it steady for her before following her up, the lamp in my hand lighting up her dress.

“So,” she said breathlessly when we were both at the top, her delicious breasts rising and falling with her breath, “where’s this drink you promised me?”

It was a perfect night. The air was cool and still. Through the window we could see a million bright stars keeping watch over the valley. Faintly, we could hear the guests on the porch celebrating the love of a man and woman who’d just promised themselves to each other for all eternity. If this wasn’t the night for us to take this secret pleasure, this sweet ecstasy that we’d waited our entire lives for, then I don’t know what it was.

God would forgive us. Her father would understand. It would be just one night. One blissful night.

I pointed to the heavy beam above her head. “There’s a hip flask right above you.”

She reached up and grabbed it, but when she pulled it down, I saw that she hadn’t grabbed the flask at all. She’d grabbed something else entirely. Something I’d long forgotten was there.

Chapter 5

Lacey

“W
HAT’S THIS?” I SAID,
pulling down an old envelope, it’s paper worn with age.

Grant was surprised when he saw it.

“Oh, shit,” he said. “Here, give that to me.”

He’d never looked handsomer than he did at that moment. He was wearing an impeccable tuxedo, its crisp lines contrasting with his muscular, tattooed frame. He carried an old fashioned lamp in one hand, and with the other he held the ladder. His hair was combed, a rare sight for Grant, but it still refused to be tamed. His curls fell down around his face like ivy.

I was about to hand him the envelope when something about his urgency stopped me. What was so important about it?

“Not so fast,” I said.

“Lacey, come on. It’s private.”

I looked at him. “Can I take a peek?” I said, mischievously.

He sighed. Then he shrugged.

“Fine,” he said, “but pass me the flask first.”

I reached back up to the beam and this time found the metal bottle he’d intended me to find the first time. I unscrewed the lid and took a swig of the aged whiskey before passing it to him.

The envelope contained photographs and a letter. I tipped it and the small bundle of old photographs slid into my hand.

“What are these?” I said.

“We’re adults now,” he said. “I suppose you can see for yourself.”

I looked at them and gasped. They were pictures of me. Not naughty, I wasn’t naked or anything, just portraits that had been hanging in the hall of the mansion until we took them down for a remodel years ago. There was one of me at my high school graduation. I remembered the day clearly. Me in my hat and gown holding my diploma. Grant had taken the picture. That was before the other brothers had come to live with us. Another was of me on Mustang, the wild horse Grant had broken and given to me for my nineteenth birthday. My hair was long and wavy, flowing down over my shoulders in billowing curls. It was one of my favorite shots. Another was of me in my prom dress, taken on our wraparound staircase before my date arrived. I remembered thinking it was the most beautiful I’d ever looked in my life up to that point.

“How long have you had these?” I said.

He took a swig of the whiskey before answering. “A long time.”

“What were you doing with them?”

He was embarrassed. He didn’t answer.

“Grant,” I said insistently.

He came toward me and handed me the hip flask. Then he took the envelope and photos from my hand and put them back up on the beam. I hadn’t even read the letter but now I wasn’t sure I wanted to. What would it say?

“I didn’t mean for you to see those,” he said. “I hope they didn’t upset you.”

“Why do you have them?”

“That’s not important,” he said, sitting on a bale of hay.

“Of course it’s important.”

“Why?” he said. “Why is it important?”

“It’s important because I want to know. We’ve lived together since I was seventeen. What are you doing with photos of me?”

“What does it matter?”

“Grant,” I said, exasperated. “It matters.”

He nodded. “I know,” he said.

“Then tell me.”

He looked at me as if apologizing for a crime. “All right. If you’re going to force it out of me. There was a time when I had a crush on you, Lacey.”

I felt my cheeks redden. “That doesn’t explain having my picture.”

“It wasn’t just a little crush. It was an all encompassing, all mighty obsession. It burned inside me like a fire. I tried to get over it, I tried not to think of you in that way, but I couldn’t.”

“So you brought pictures of me out to the barn for what reason?”

I looked at him questioningly.

“Are you really going to make me spell it out?” he said.

My head was spinning. How did I feel about this? I mean, I’d had my fantasies about him, but this was different. Or was it? Was it exactly the same?

“Tell me.”

“I fantasized about you, Lacey. I didn’t want to disrespect your father by doing it under his roof, so I came out here to look at your photos.”

I could hardly believe what I was hearing. “This doesn’t make any sense.”

“You were pretty, Lacey. In fact, you were hot, smoking hot.”

“I was never hot.”

“You’ve always been a beauty. You know that.”

“No I don’t,” I said, my cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“You knew it back then. That’s why you gave me such a hard time. It was torture living with you and never being able to make a move. You knew I wanted you.”

I was dumbfounded. “You wanted to make a move on me?”

“Of course I did. Why do you think I teased you about so many things?”

My eyes filled with tears. I didn’t even know why. “What did you do with the photos?” I blurted without thinking.

“What do you think? I jerked off, thinking about you.”

“Is this a joke?” I gasped.

“I forgot the pictures were up there. You shouldn’t have seen them. I’m sorry.”

I looked at him. I didn’t know how to feel. Was I offended? I didn’t think I was. I mean, I felt I
should
have been offended in some way, but I wasn’t. He’d had a crush on me all this time? That wasn’t a crime. If it was, I was just as guilty as him.

He was no worse than I was. I’d masturbated while spying on him through my bedroom window. I wasn’t about to tell him that. I would literally die if he ever found that out. I had to play it cool. I’d pretend to be a little shocked, even though I was secretly thrilled at the thought of him hiding up here, jerking off, fantasizing about me.

I tried to picture his cock, what it would have looked like while he stroked it to orgasm using pictures of me. Then I shook my head and forced my mind back to the present.

“Are you upset?” he said.

“I don’t know, Grant.”

“You shouldn’t be. It was a long time ago, and it was really innocent. I swear I tried to resist. I just couldn’t help it. I was young, my hormones were raging. You know how it is.”

“I’m not upset, Grant. I understand. It’s just, it’s surprising is all. I was used to thinking of you in a certain way, and now I find out that you’ve got my prom photo in your porn stash.”

“It’s not like that, Lacey.”

“I know,” I said, softening my tone, “but Grant, what am I supposed to feel? We’ve known each other our whole lives.”

“Feel whatever you want to feel.”

I laughed. “You obviously don’t know women very well, giving advice like that.”

He smiled.

“We should get back to the party,” I said. “They’ll be looking for us.”

A jazz quartet had started playing, and we could hear the romantic music through the slatted walls of the barn. I felt awkward and I wanted to escape the uncomfortable situation.

I’ll admit I was thrilled to find out Grant had had a crush on me, even if it was years ago. It made me feel a little less guilty about all the fantasizing I’d done about him, but it was still definitely very uncomfortable. It was as if I’d invaded his privacy, even though he was the one with my photos. This was his private place. He was allowed to think what he wanted in the privacy of his own mind, wasn’t he? I shouldn’t have looked in the envelope. It was his, not mine, even if the photos in it were of me.

I stood up.

“Don’t leave,” he said. “Not yet.”

“Grant,” I said. “I’m not upset. It was harmless, a few photos. It’s understandable, I suppose, given the circumstances of our life back then.”

I felt awful for being so hypocritical. I mean, I’d basically done the same thing he’d done. I’d taught myself how to masturbate, inspired entirely by him. But there was no way in hell I was going to admit that to him.