Becoming Mrs. Lockwood Read online

  “Society is closed-minded in general. That’s why people will be against us, Wren.”

  “How do you feel about this?” I asked. I knew my feelings, and even with my nerves and fear, I really liked Weston.

  “Do you think I regret this? I thought I’d been pretty obvious regarding how I feel about you.”

  “But your brother . . .”

  “He hasn’t seen what I see every day when I’m with you. An intelligent, strong, caring, beautiful woman. That’s what you are, and as you get older I can only see those qualities getting better. They’re reasons I didn’t want to let you go.”

  Conversations with Sophie and Julia surfaced, and I couldn’t stop myself. “That, and I’m a normal, average girl?”

  His gaze didn’t waver, didn’t falter. “That’s one of my favorite parts about you.”

  “I’m not a Hollywood girl.”

  “And I don’t want a Hollywood girl. I want happiness. For once I want to be truly happy. I want something real.” His mouth opened wide, a yawn taking over, his body stretching out until he settled back down. “I think that’s one thing that has thrown Miles off. I’ve been unhappy with a woman I would never marry, on and off for the last six years. Then suddenly I meet you and marry you in less than thirty-six hours? Yeah, he’s probably wondering when the invasion of the body snatchers came along.”

  “Well, as insulted as I was by his comments, it seems maybe he’s just shocked at your one-eighty on life and relationships. He’s probably also wondering when the hell you’re going to come to your senses.”

  “I am one hundred percent in my senses, and he needs to come to his senses and realize that.”

  “What about the fairy tale?” I asked as I laid my chin on my hands, looking up at him as I rested on his chest.

  “Oh, fairy tales are real. Didn’t you hear that part?” His lips twitched up into a smirk.

  “Do fairy godmothers exist, then?”

  “Oh, yes. They’re named Karen.” He let out a laugh.

  My mouth dropped open as I stared at him, then moved into attack mode. I tickled his side, causing him to squirm. “Oh, you think you’re funny now, huh, Mr. Lockwood?”

  “Oh, yes, Mrs. Lockwood. It’s one of my many good qualities.”

  “Many?”

  “Many,” he stressed, and the mood shifted as he pulled me closer. “I have a very nice, large quality I’d like to show you.” His lips descended upon my neck, kissing and nibbling down to my shoulder while his hand moved up my side, thumb grazing the side of my breast.

  “Y-you do?” I stuttered.

  “Mm-hmm.”

  His hand slid between my thighs, gently pushing them apart, and lightly trailed up until he was exactly where he wanted to be. Gently, his fingers danced over the cotton of my panties, passing over my clit more than once and making me draw in a sharp breath each time, much to his delight.

  “How’s my girl feel down here?” he asked.

  I knew what he was referring to, and I began to rock my hips against his hand, begging for the friction, burning with desire. “Needy,” I breathed out.

  “Fuck,” he groaned and rocked his hips into my thigh, letting me feel how hard he was for me.

  The pressure he was placing on my rapidly wetting pussy increased, sending what felt like a jolt of lightning through me. It was no longer the gentle yet needy feel of our first encounter, creating a slow, building fire, it was desire unleashed. My body was lighting up, fire raging everywhere he touched. An uncontrollable need to feel him took over, and I moved one hand between us. He drew in a sharp breath when my fingers reached his waistband, moaning as his hips pushed his cock against me. That earned me greater pressure, causing me to cry out.

  My hand made its way past his waistband and grazed the hot head of his cock. Weston was cursing as my fingers wrapped around him and slowly made a path up and down his length.

  “Fuck, baby girl, that feels so unbelievably good,” he said between pants.

  His fingers pushed aside my panties and began caressing the swollen flesh beneath. One finger was placed at my opening and he pushed it in. I drew in a shuddering breath, my back arching and my hand grasping a little bit tighter on his cock. His hips began to rock him into my hand, the silky skin seeming to grow hotter and the flesh harder. My mind was clouded when he entered me with a second finger, and I knew then that everything was all right. I wanted him inside me.

  No, I needed him.

  “Weston,” I panted, pushing my hips harder into his hand.

  “Wren, oh, Wren,” he moaned as he adjusted to settle between my thighs. “Baby, I need you.”

  “Please!” I begged.

  He growled in response, and then a voice began to shout, breaking us out of our lust-induced haze.

  “Weston! Get your ass out of bed and off Wren! Burning daylight, Lockwood!” I heard Sophie’s voice close to my ear, but she was nowhere in the room.

  “Fucking cock-blocking little . . .” he grumbled and looked over at the clock. “Damn! I’m late!” Propping his body up and leaning over me, he picked up his phone from the bedside table, tapped a few buttons, and spoke into the receiver. “Overslept, give me ten minutes.” I heard his voice ring out and realized that there was an intercom system.

  “I’m sorry,” I apologized as he set the phone down.

  He winked at me. “Don’t be. I’ll just let you stew all day long, waiting for me to come home and take you with all my pent-up frustration.” My face flushed and my pulse raced, both of which he noticed. “Then it will be so much better. And, you’ll come harder.”

  He kissed me then, despite the morning breath, before hopping out of bed and rushing to his room. I also got out of bed, quickly moving to wash my face and brush my teeth. Once complete, I threw on some shorts and a T-shirt and walked out.

  I didn’t think I’d taken that long, but when Weston came out of his bedroom and was obviously showered and dressed, I wondered if he had super speed. He was wearing low-riding jeans, and they hung perfectly on his hips, which just made me want to grab him and throw him on the bed so we could finish what we started.

  He shot me a sexy smile as he wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me close and kissing me hard. “Sophie has brought your clothes. You two can spend the day rearranging the closet and moving your stuff into our bedroom.”

  I liked the way he said our.

  We moved down the steps hand in hand and found Sophie, Julia, and a few other people milling around the kitchen. There was a squealing sound, followed by clapping.

  A beautiful little blonde-haired girl waddled out from behind the kitchen island and headed straight for Weston, her curls bouncing with each step.

  “Wehtun, Wehtun, Wehtun!” she repeated over and over upon seeing Weston.

  A huge smile lit up his face and he bent down to catch her, lifting her high in the air and twirling her around. The little girl giggled in delight and shortly after was settled in his arms.

  “Hello, my beautiful Princess Ari. I’ve missed you,” he said, his face aglow as he gave her Eskimo kisses. I was stunned, staring wide-eyed as he played with the small child. “Your mommy and daddy are mean. They don’t bring you around nearly enough for my liking.”

  “Mean Mommy!” she repeated, her chubby little fingers tapping against his cheeks.

  “Hey! That’s not nice!” Sophie protested and attempted to snatch her child back, but the little girl just cried out and clung to Weston, burying her adorable face in the crook of his neck.

  “Go make your own, Lockwood. Word has it you have a wife now. Knock her up!” an unfamiliar blond man said. It was then he seemed to notice me in the doorway, his eyebrows rising in surprise. “Oh, you must be said wife. Sorry for interrupting your activities this morning. My wife is an early riser.” My face flooded in embarrassment. Crossing the room, he held out his hand, and I stepped forward to take it. “Carson Brooks, pleasure to meet the woman who has captured our fair Weston’s heart.” r />
  He was handsome, with light brown eyes and a cut jaw. Was everyone in Weston’s life beautiful? Talk about giving a girl a complex.

  “Ass,” Weston snorted, earning a smack on the arm from Julia.

  “Language!” she chastised, then promptly returned her attention back to her laptop.

  “Ass!” Ari imitated, and Weston groaned.

  Weston shook his head. “No, Ari, that’s a bad word. You shouldn’t say that word or Mommy might spank you.”

  Sophie let out an exasperated sigh. “Why do you always make me out to be the villain?”

  “Because thanks to you, he has blue balls,” Carson said with a snort before he turned his attention back to me and smiled. “Anyway, welcome to our kooky family, Wren. Now, if you wouldn’t mind, could you pry my child out of your husband’s arms so I can steal him away for business?”

  I smiled up at him. “I think I might be able to do that.”

  I walked over to Weston, who was deep in conversation with Ari about her teddy bear . . . at least, I think it was about a teddy bear—most of it was gibberish. Weston was hanging on her every word. It was so endearing, and I hoped he would be the same with our children someday.

  Our children. It sounded strange and right to my ears at the same time. The word “our” was working its way into both of our vocabularies.

  “Weston, can you introduce me?” I asked.

  His smile was so big and bright. “This, baby girl, is Princess Arianna. Otherwise known as just Arianna or Ari,” he said, turning her in his arms. “Ari, can you say hello to Wren?”

  I smiled up at her, but she still gave me a leery eye. Almost as if she was daring me to try and take away her precious Wehtun’s attentions. Clinging tighter to him, she shook her head and shied away from me.

  “Oh, come on, my princess. Wren is really nice, and I bet she can hunt you down a cookie if you’re a good girl.”

  “Briber!” Sophie cried out, and Weston ignored her.

  At the thought of a cookie, Ari smiled and stretched her arms out to me. I picked her up, moving her to my hip.

  “You are so pretty,” I said, and she looked at me shyly from under her lashes.

  “So are you,” Weston said, giving me a kiss. “I’m off to work.”

  “Have a good day!” I watched as he and Carson headed out the door with Julia in tow.

  Making good on my cookie promise, I walked to the pantry in a hopeful search for something, but came out disappointed.

  “There’s a cookie jar on the counter. Kelly usually keeps a small stockpile there,” Sophie said, not even looking up from her phone.

  “Thanks.”

  We headed over to the ceramic container that was clearly labeled cookies. Upon closer inspection, the smaller writing beneath read “AKA Weston’s drops of sugary goodness. Eat at your own risk.” I laughed, knowing it was probably Sophie herself who had purchased it. Reaching in, I brought out two cookies, one for me and Sophie to split, and one for Ari.

  “I heard about Miles,” she said as she set the phone down and took the cookie from Ari’s hand before she broke it up into smaller pieces and handed it back. She earned a most evil glare for her snatching. “We don’t all think that way. I just want you to know.”

  “It was kinda hard to swallow. I know not everyone is going to welcome me or our marriage with open arms, but what he said . . .”

  Sophie leaned against the counter and sighed. “I know I was upset yesterday, though less so than Miles, so here’s the bottom line after I cooled down. Weston is one of my dearest and closest friends, and I don’t want him to get hurt. I’m kind of torn because I get your perspective as well. Here you’ve been dropped into an unknown situation and life, so at the same time I’m very protective of you.”

  She took a bite of her cookie before turning and opening the fridge. Reaching in, she pulled out two bottles of water and set one down in front of me.

  “Thank you.”

  She was silent for a few gulps before continuing. “Julia told me what Miles said. You need to know that on some level we all feel the same . . . with the exception of the comment he made about your kitty. I see a scared little girl who I want to protect. Miles sees a gold digging actress trying to get a step up. So, right now I’m at ‘hurt our Weston and I will kill you,’ and ‘if Weston hurts you, I’ll junk punch him.’ Unfair, I know, but I’m sure you understand.”

  I nodded. “I understand completely. Weston comes first.”

  “Rationality.” She smiled and nodded. “That’s a very good trait to have with Weston and this Hollywood life. I hope you keep it.”

  Ari chose that moment to interject her displeasure of being cookie-less and Sophie handed her another piece.

  “Come on. Let’s go rearrange the closet so there is room for everything. We have less than two hours,” she said, pulling Ari’s bag up from the ground along with her purse, before we headed upstairs.

  Being with Sophie in her element was an adventure. Sometime during the “let’s rearrange the closet” mission, it became “let’s get rid of all the clothes Sophie doesn’t like.” Needless to say, when the clothes did arrive, we still had no concrete plan. The closet was huge. Easily larger than my bedroom back home. There was no need for dressers because the closet walls were lined with drawers, along with hanging areas. An island in the middle of the room also had drawer storage. There were shoe racks and benches. Weston still had more clothes than I did, even if you combined what Sophie had picked out and all of my clothes in Indianapolis. Ari enjoyed playing with the clothing as well—pulling things down from the racks.

  Sophie and Ari left sometime after lunch, and I spent the remainder of the afternoon moving the rest of my belongings into our room and bathroom.

  The bathroom was another room larger than my former bedroom, complete with a jetted tub, a large multi-shower-head shower, and two large sinks along with a vanity. Fantasies began to spin through my head of what we could do in that tub and shower, and I soon found myself overheated. My body still buzzed from our morning activities, and I couldn’t wait until he returned home.

  There was a fantastic view of the backyard from the bedroom, and the beautiful sparkling pool out there stared back at me.

  I now had a new afternoon activity.

  Moving to the closet, I began to search for the bathing suits Sophie had sent with me. I found them in one of the drawers in the center of the closet. Unfortunately, what I had thought were bathing suits were more like lingerie. Not a bikini and not a one piece, and they were definitely sexy.

  Picking out what I deemed the least provocative of the nearly dozen, I pulled it on and headed down to the pool.

  It was a beautiful day, hot and sunny, making the cool water feel that much better against my skin. Sinking down into the water was refreshing, and I dove the rest of the way in. The pool was wonderful. I always loved swimming and the sense of freedom that came with gliding through the water.

  I lost track of the time, but I hadn’t reached the prune-like state when I heard my name being called. Swimming to the edge, I found Weston walking toward the pool.

  “Having fun?” he asked from the edge.

  “So much.”

  “Well, I want to get a quick workout in before dinner, so why don’t you keep swimming and I’ll be right in there enjoying the view,” he said with a smirk.

  I peered over to the glass wall that he pointed to. There was an exterior door, and through the glass I could see right in to all of the equipment.

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  Leaning down, he placed a kiss on my lips and headed back inside. A few minutes later, I watched him enter the workout room, now wearing his running shorts and shirt. His run on the treadmill began, and I ogled him before deciding to float around for a few more minutes.

  When the pruning stage began to show, I decided enough was enough and made my way over to the steps.

  Rising out of the water of the pool, I squeezed the water from my
hair. It was then I heard a crash and looked over to the workout room to find Weston no longer on the treadmill, but lying against the wall.

  Panicked, I quickly ran in through the door that led from the pool area and into the workout room.

  I was still dripping wet when I found him lying on his side, clutching his head, the treadmill still running.

  “Weston, oh my God. Are you okay?” I asked, rushing to his side.

  His eyes opened, meeting mine. I didn’t even have time to process the look before he grabbed the back of my head and crashed his lips to mine. He pounced on me, sending me tumbling to the ground, his body pinning me to the floor. He devoured my lips with his mouth while pulling my body flush to his and nestling his hips between my thighs.

  The passion, the need, was rolling off of him, and I soon found my mind clouded with lust and desire. In the back of my head I wondered if it was going to hurt again, but with the way my body was aching, craving him, I doubted it.

  His lips released mine, and I groaned in displeasure, but that quickly turned to a moan as he kissed his way down my neck. My hips rose, pressing against him, brushing my pussy up and down his length.

  “So sinful,” he moaned before swiftly pulling my bathing suit straps down, his hips undulating into mine.

  His mouth descended on my newly exposed breasts, licking, biting, and sucking on my nipple.

  My pussy, my whole body, was on fire. I needed him in me. Otherwise, I was going to combust. His name escaped my lips in a guttural moan, and he growled in response. His hand worked between our bodies and after some fumbling, I felt the heat of the head of his cock against the apex of my thighs. Deftly, his fingers pushed my bathing suit aside, he lined himself up, and thrust his cock into me.

  My eyes widened, then rolled back, a cry of pleasure ripping from my chest.

  “Fuck, baby girl. So sexy, so fucking sexy,” he murmured against my skin, his cock not even halting, sliding in and out.

  There was no pain. Instead, I clawed my way closer to him. I needed all of him as close and deep as possible. His pace was fast, almost rough with need. My body was tingling, jolts of electricity shooting through me with every thrust. He felt so good inside me, so un-fucking-believably good that I never wanted him to stop. I was begging him to go faster and he sped up, his fingers digging into my hips as he pistoned furiously until I exploded in pleasure.