Becoming Mrs. Lockwood Page 11

  Tearless sobs wracked my body, my back arching off of the floor as the most intense orgasm ripped through me. He was unrelenting as I came down, my sanity not even given the chance to return. He was grunting and growling above me, his noises lighting my body again. His teeth scraped against my neck while he changed his angle, unexpectedly sending me spiraling into a second orgasm.

  His thrusts became erratic, slamming into me, and he cried out. I felt him pulsing deep inside me as he twitched with each stream. Dropping his head to my shoulder, his body soon followed, slumping against mine. I tried to caress his skin, but my body felt more like Jell-O than anything else.

  “Fuck, baby girl. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I haven’t come that hard in years,” he said between pants.

  “I believe you now.”

  He chuckled. “About what?”

  “It does only hurt the first time. After that, the only pain is caused from the aching need,” I said in amazement. Even though I’d just come, I wanted him to make me come again.

  “Mmm, I plan to make you ache for days after,” he said against my neck, giving me a little nip. “Force you to remember what my cock did to you.”

  I turned to look him in the eye. “My husband is a dirty, dirty man.”

  He chuckled. “And I plan to make my wife just as dirty as I am.”

  “Oh, you are well on your way, then,” I said with a smirk before slapping his ass. “So, what happened?”

  He propped up on one elbow and smiled down at me. “A sexy goddess rose out of the water. I was completely floored that she’s mine.”

  I blinked up at him. Goddess? Is he talking about me?

  It was amazing that Weston wasn’t more injured than he was after his tumble from the treadmill. I helped to patch up a burn from the belt on his arm, along with a bleeding gash on his knee, but could do nothing for the bump on his head except kiss it. He said it made it better, but I think he was just placating me. It was sweet nonetheless.

  I kissed his boo-boos one last time before we curled up in bed together that night. Our first night with my belongings combined with his; my clothes in his closet, toothbrush touching his, the other vanity no longer empty. I fell asleep easily wrapped in his arms, fingers caressing me into dreamland.

  All too soon the alarm was blaring and his body left mine. Weston had unfortunately left for work early with the promise of returning in the early afternoon.

  “I’m sorry I keep leaving you alone all day,” he’d said with a heavy breath, looking into the mirror as he looped his tie around his neck.

  “This wasn’t planned, and you still have work. I know you can’t drop everything to stay with me. I understand. Just . . . hurry back?”

  His arm had swept behind my back and pulled me flush to his chest, lips pressed to mine. “As fast as I can, baby girl.”

  I pried myself from the bed a few hours later and searched for signs of life, while at the same time searching for some brunch. Nobody was around, at least from what I could tell, but there was some yummy leftover chicken and pasta in the fridge.

  Left to my own devices, I found my way into the piano room and began playing. I played some classical pieces, and pieces of my own. Something new struck me, and I began working it out on the keys until it was flowing freely, the beautiful medley unfolding. Before I knew it, almost two hours had passed.

  Closing the lid, I headed out to the back patio and pulled out my phone. I knew Daniel’s schedule by heart, and I knew he was in study period. It was time I called him, time I told him about Weston, and that I wasn’t coming home.

  Finding his number, I hit send and put the phone up to my ear.

  Then promptly pulled it away when Daniel’s high-pitched scream came through the speaker.

  “Wren!” he screeched. “Oh, sweetie, I’ve missed you! Please, please, please tell me you’re home now! There is so much to talk about. I’m on my way over. We have to talk! Trevor is a fucking slut. We broke up again, he was eye fucking Steve Diller, and I told him he wanted him more than me. He tried to deny it, but I know it’s true. Ugh! He’s just a pig. Oh, I’ve missed you!”

  I took a deep breath and sighed. “I miss you so, so much.”

  “So, where are you?” he asked, and I hated to crush the excitement in his voice.

  “I . . . am at home.” The vice around my chest tightened.

  “Oh, thank God! Cause I need a Wren hug, like seriously.”

  “I’d love to give you one, because you have no idea how much I need one right now, Daniel,” I said, my voice wavering.

  “Wren?” His voice dropped, worry creeping in.

  My fingers played with the hem of my shirt as I took a few seconds to steady myself. “I say I’m home, but . . . see, the thing is . . . Indianapolis is no longer my home.”

  “W-what? What are you talking about? Your mom came home, and I know there is no fucking way you would suddenly move to Chicago.”

  “No, not Chicago. Los Angeles area or thereabouts. I’m not exactly sure, not too familiar with the layout yet.”

  There was silence on the other end of the line before a sharp intake of breath, combined with an almost sob. “Wren, please tell me you’re joking. Please tell me you’re in the house you’ve lived in since we were eight.”

  “I can’t,” I whispered. “My”—I cleared my throat—“husband’s house is much larger than my mom’s.”

  “Your what? You got married?” His voice rose in volume with each word, the pitch angling up to an almost shriek. “Are you fucking serious?”

  “Yes.”

  “To who? I need to know. And, I can’t believe anti-young-marriage Karen was cool with it. If you say she was, I really will think I’m dreaming, hang up, and when I wake up, all the shit that has come from your mouth will just be a bad dream.”

  “I married Weston Lockwood in a drunken night in Vegas,” I said in a rush, letting out a sigh of relief at having it out and off my chest.

  There was complete silence for a short moment before laughter took over. “Oh, now I know I’m dreaming! Weston Lockwood married you in a cliché Vegas way? Gorgeous, fuck-hot, Weston Lockwood from Genesis, The Last Hero, and so many more? Girl, my dream gave you a winner!”

  “I didn’t even recognize him at the time, Daniel. It wasn’t until I saw the movie posters in his office the other day that it all clicked,” I admitted bashfully.

  “Wait . . . you’re serious?” he asked, his voice wavering. “And you’re just now telling me?”

  “Yes, to both.” I cringed at the hurt in his voice, then tried to explain. “I didn’t know how to tell you. It was all so weird.”

  “You really aren’t coming home?” he asked again, no life left in the voice streaming into my ear.

  “I am home,” I whispered.

  “You don’t even know him!” Daniel finally yelled, his tone changing to near frantic. “He could be some deranged psychopath! I can’t believe Karen let you go with him.”

  Tears filled my eyes. I hated doing it, hated being so far from my best friend. “He is a really wonderful person, Daniel. And when you come out to visit, you’ll see.”

  “Visit? No. You come home. You come home right now, Wren. Please . . . please, I need my best friend, please come home to me,” he begged, desperation in his voice.

  The tears began to slide down my cheeks. “Daniel, you know I love you.” My nose began to run, causing me to sniffle.

  “Who the fuck is Daniel?” I heard Weston demand through clenched teeth. I turned, just as the lounge chair beside me flipped over forcefully and crashed to the slate deck. His eyes were wide, his jaw set and he was vibrating with anger.

  “What the fuck was that?” Daniel asked in surprise, before his voice lowered to a whisper, “It sounded hot and angry, which I gotta say made me twitch a bit.”

  I let out a little forced laugh at his comment and put my finger up to Weston, the universal sign for hold on, and that seemed to upset him further.

  “Daniel, ever
ything will be okay. We can still text and send pictures.”

  “Like hell you will,” Weston said with a sneer.

  “Jesus Christ, Wren, are you sure you’re okay? He sounds fucking pissed!”

  “Yes, I’m fine. Weston is just being an ass.” I glared at my husband.

  “Fine, but you have to get back to me ASAP so I know you’re doing okay, and I will need to talk to you a lot so I can feel like you’re actually here with me, sorta.”

  “You can visit, and I can visit, and before we know it you’ll be here and we’ll be at USC,” I said to reassure him as I swiped at my tears.

  “I’m holding you to that, Bradford . . . or should I say, Lockwood.” I heard Daniel sniffling too.

  A minute later, and another I love you, I ended my call. Weston was fuming, arms crossed over his chest, and I could almost see the flames surrounding him. He was seriously pissed, and the chair looked mangled.

  “What the fuck was that about, Wren? Who the hell is Daniel? Is there something I need to know? Please tell me if I’m wasting my fucking time here. You could have fucking told me you had a boyfriend!” He laid into me, but I wasn’t going to be intimidated.

  “Whoa! Hold on, Weston.” I jumped up from the lounger and stood in front of him, my finger poking into his chest. “You don’t get to judge and fly off the handle based on what tiny bit of my conversation you overheard.”

  He had no right to accuse me of anything. Especially, since he knew so little about me and where I came from.

  “You just told some guy you love him,” he seethed. “I’m your fucking husband! Those words are reserved for me!”

  “Oh, and you think your behavior right now is acceptable? Will make me love you? Because I can tell you right now, Mr. Lockwood, that you are currently not being endearing at all. Jealousy is not a lovable quality.”

  “I just don’t like that my wife is talking with another man and telling him she loves him, something she hasn’t even told me!” He clenched his fists tightly together at his sides.

  “Oh, fuck off, Weston!” I screamed back at him. “Daniel is my best friend! My very close, very dear, very gay, best friend. And now, because I’m here with you, I’ve lost him in my life on a daily basis. The only person I have ever been able to count on in my life.” The tears rolled down my face, my bottom lip trembling. “So excuse me for being upset and for loving him!” I wiped the tears from my cheeks, but Weston remained silent. I looked back up at him and squared my shoulders, turning to leave. “Oh, and Weston? Thank you for putting so much trust in me, your wife.”

  I turned and stormed off, my chest tight as I held everything in. I didn’t know where to go, but I just wanted to be alone, and with such a huge house there had to be a few good hiding spots. There was a living room with chaise couches laid out before a large TV. I threw my body down on one and sobbed into the white corduroy fabric.

  It had been harder to tell Daniel I wasn’t coming home than I thought. He was hurt that I hadn’t called him immediately. He was upset, and rightfully so. We talked daily, and I had ignored him for days. I missed him so much. I missed Indiana, I missed my mom, and really anything that had been my life before Vegas. I missed the home I’d always known.

  Homesickness sunk in, enveloping everything.

  I wanted to be home, in my comfort zone, not stuck in a foreign place.

  Now Weston and I were fighting, and I was reminded of how very alone I was in my new home. We were bonding, but we still had a long road ahead of us.

  I heard footsteps coming close before the warmth of his hand laid on my shoulder. It only made me cry more. He slid down behind me, wrapping his arms around me.

  “Wren, I’m sorry. I overreacted and shouldn’t have gone off like that,” he said softly as he pressed light kisses against my skin.

  “No, you fucking shouldn’t have,” I replied, trying hard to ignore his touch.

  “I was just dumbstruck listening to you tell some guy that you love him. Because those are words I want you to eventually say to me.”

  “There’s still a long way to go until then.” The words were spoken mostly out of anger. Truth was, I was falling for him. The connection we had was too strong not to. That, and he was a wonderful man . . . he’d just not used his head and stuck his foot in his mouth.

  “I know, but I can’t wait until you say them to me. And I can’t wait until I can say them to you,” he admitted.

  I relaxed back into him. “You seem pretty certain that we’ll fall in love.”

  He made a humming sound against my shoulder. “It’s a feeling I have. Don’t you feel it too?”

  “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. You know that.”

  “Please say you forgive me,” he whispered as he placed a kiss on my shoulder.

  I turned in his arms until I was on my back, able to look up at him. “Just . . . use your head next time? Think before you speak.”

  “Promise.”

  “And, Weston, if we are going to have a real chance at a life together, at making this work, you are going to have to trust me, and ask questions before you yell and curse at me.”

  “Okay, I know, and again, I’m sorry, baby girl. This is all so new to me, these feelings and emotions coursing through me. And, I want to trust you. I do trust you.”

  “Thank you,” I said softly, pulling his arms tighter around me.

  We lay there snuggling as my tears dried up. It felt good just to have him near. I already craved him so much. Any and all affection he would give, I would gladly receive.

  My head was thumping a bit from the crying, and I turned more to nuzzle into his chest.

  “Better?” he asked, brushing my hair over my ear.

  I nodded in response and tilted my head up to place my lips against his.

  “So, foot in mouth is a Lockwood family trait, huh?”

  Weston let out a low chuckle, a smile forming on his face. “I guess it must be. It’s from my father’s side, and I will try and quell this awful genetic inheritance of mine. Because the last thing I want to do is hurt you.”

  “That would be nice.” Silence took over, and after a moment I decided it was time to get moving again. “I think I want to take a shower,” I said and sat up. I turned to look at Weston. “Want to come?”

  He smiled and kissed me. “I would love to join you, beautiful.”

  We walked upstairs, hand in hand, to the master bathroom. With gentle hands and a slow pace, he removed my shirt and helped me out of my shorts.

  “Mmm, you are so alluring,” he whispered in my ear while his hands reached around my back to unclasp my bra.

  My hands fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. “Says the most alluring man on the planet.”

  “The planet? Really?” he teased.

  “Well, at least on planet Wren, but I’m pretty sure you’re near the top on Earth.”

  He chuckled as he turned the water on and set the temperature. There were two showerheads along with multiple side sprayers. It was a dream shower. Taking my hand, we stepped through the glass door and under the warm spray.

  Closing my eyes, I let the warm water run over my body. My muscles relaxed and the remainder of the tension faded, washing away with the water down the drain.

  “Fuck,” Weston whispered.

  I opened my eyes to find him staring at me. “What?”

  “You.”

  “What about me?”

  “The sight of you naked beneath me is one of my favorites, but the sight of you naked standing in front of me . . . wet? Perfection.”

  I blushed, taking my bottom lip between my teeth, my eyes turning to appraise his form. Attraction was definitely not a problem.

  Weston had a fantastic body. He was fit, the six-pack he sported making that obvious, but he wouldn’t be described as ripped. He was toned, probably from all of the running he did. Strong arms and pecs, a toned abdomen, and a big strong . . . cock.

  “Holy shit!” I yelled out as I looked down, fin
ally getting a good look at Weston’s goods. And boy were they good.

  “What?” he asked with a teasing smirk, fully aware of what had caught my appraising eyes’ attention.

  “This is what you’ve been thrusting in me?” I asked in awe, my hand lightly stroking up and down his hardened length.

  He twitched in my hand at my words, a shudder running through him as he hardened further. “You never looked?”

  “Maybe a glance, just not this up close and personal.” I couldn’t even touch my fingers to my thumb.

  “Feel free to take a real close look whenever you want, baby girl. You can get a great view from your knees,” he teased with a wink.

  “Why, Mr. Lockwood, are you suggesting I put this huge thing in my mouth?” I tried to sound as provocative as I could, adding in looking at him from under my lashes, which caused him to groan.

  He pulled my head to his, lips crashing to mine. “I am definitely suggesting that.”

  “Mmm, maybe I should inspect, to make sure everything is in working order. After all, I am your wife, and as such it is my duty to make sure that my husband is properly taken care of,” I said as I lowered down to the tile floor.

  “Fuck, yes,” he panted.

  I finally got to lay eyes on the beast up close and personal. Weston was bigger in both length and girth to the only other specimen I’d touched before. It was also straight, but curved up ever so slightly at the tip.

  “Perfect,” I whispered before leaning forward and placing a kiss to the hot red head. It really was the only word I had to describe his physical appearance. Because to me, he was.

  “Have you ever sucked a cock?” he asked.

  I shook my head as my mouth opened, looking at him from under my lashes, my tongue sneaking out and rubbing against the underside of his head.

  “Fuck!” he cried as his lust-filled eyes closed, his head tilting back, and one hand moving to rest on my cheek.

  Opening my mouth, I tentatively wrapped my lips around the tip, earning another moan and a thrust of his hips. The skin was warm and smooth, the flesh beneath rigid yet pliable.