Page 16 of Chasing Bandit

Wylie grinned widely, “better get on your knees like you’re praying and grab that headboard then.”

I did what I was told, flipping on to my stomach and grabbing the headboard the same way that I had five months ago, not because I was obedient but because I liked this version of him the best. The one where he was exactly who he said he was and not trying to appease me by sticking his nose in something that wasn’t his business while feigning concern for the parts of my life that existed outside of the bedroom.

I spread my knees wider and pushed out my ass to give him better access. Wylie’s hot, rough hands trailed down the valley of my spine, finding my ass before spreading my cheeks and touching my puckered hole.

“What the fuck?” I asked, clenching myself and leaning forward.

“I’d like to fill every hole you’ve got some day if you'll let me, Stevie.”

“This is the last hole you'll ever be filling. Just shut up and fuck me.” I retorted.

He let out a deep and throaty laugh again and I hated that I could feel my arousal dripping down my thigh from how turned on I was. The next thing I knew, he plunged inside of me with one long, gut twisting thrust.

“Shit…” I hissed before his hand reached around to cover my mouth.

“I’m guessing you don’t want that sister of yours finding out that I’m in here fucking you, so you better try your best to keep quiet.”

I nodded my head and tossed the curls that had fallen out of my bun over my back while Wylie gripped my hips firmly before driving into me ruthlessly.

I’d never been fucked so hard, even when we’d hooked up last November, Wylie had been passionate, and firm but not like this.

This was a frustrated fuck. I was throwing it back at him and he was catching every one of my tosses in rebuttal with his cock. It was clear that we both needed this as frustration for separate reasons coursed through our bodies. We were lost in where our anger started and ended, realizing that we were mad at the circumstances in our life that were controlling us.

Wylie and his mandate to marry and my life being controlled by a man from my past due to a mistake I'd made over a decade ago.

I felt my orgasm sneak up on me like an unexpected guest as Wylie reached around, flicking my clit with his one hand, and holding me up with his other strong arm. It ripped through me like a comet, and I collapsed into him when I came down, suspended in the air while Wylie took his own with a final pump and loud roar.

If Jovie and Nash didn't know what we were doing before, they did now; however, I no longer cared. My sister would never understand the dynamics between Wylie and me, nor the reasons behind our constant frustration and desire to be in control. Her life had been sheltered, mostly by my doing, and for that, I was grateful.

His warm seed filled the condom inside of me as he languidly pulsed in and out over and over until he finally removed himself completely, rolling to his side.

Chapter 12 – Stevie

We lay next to each other in the cramped guestroom bed, our breathing heavy in the silence. I knew I had to speak before the moment passed and I lost my nerve. I needed to say what was on my mind while Wylie and I were still riding the high of our last ever orgasm together.

I couldn't believe I was about to say these words to Wylie Cameron—or to anyone, for that matter. I never saw myself as the marrying type, having witnessed too much heartbreak to believe in it. Besides, I didn't love Wylie. If I’d ever anticipated making such a life-altering decision, it would be for love—the kind my dad had for my mom. Even though he’d been taken from us too soon, I still remembered them dancing together while doing the dishes late at night, or her letting him lay between her legs on the couch as she rubbed his shoulders after a long day at work. They never went to bed angry and always argued respectfully, reconciling immediately to teach Jovie and I how a marriage could experience disagreements and not fall apart.

Their marriage set an incredible example for Jovie and me, which is why we had such lofty standards for our own relationships. Which was also why I hadn't been in a committed relationship before. I'd never felt that someone could measure up to the standards my dad had given me and of course, Charles presence in my life had prevented any sort of commitment from occurring.

My parents' example and my desire for my own happy-ever-after was only part of why what I was about to do would be so difficult for me to do. I felt like I was letting my parents, my sister, and even myself down.

“I need to say something, and while I'm talking, I need you to be quiet for once in your life.” I said, breaking the silence.

Wylie didn't turn to face me, but I saw his eyes crinkle at the edges in a silent smile. He listened, not saying a word obediently.

There was no way to romanticize what I was about to say—I just needed to rip the band-aid off and get the next twelve months of hell started.

"I'll marry you so you can get Cameron ranch," I blurted out, the words escaping like an uncontrollable reflex. It felt like trying to stifle a drunken urge to vomit, only to have it spill out at the worst possible moment, in this case, a bed lying next to a man I didn't love and who hadn't proposed to me.

He remained silent, a stark departure from the usual loudmouth, Wylie Cameron. My stubbornness urged me to wait him out without meeting his gaze, but the silence became unbearable, and I wanted to see his reaction. Rolling onto my side, I looked at his face only to find him staring blankly at the ceiling, unmoving and unblinking.

I sighed loudly before rolling back over, “I have two conditions if we're going to do this, and I don’t want you to ask me any questions about why these are my conditions. If you ask questions, I’m backing out. Do you understand?”

He turned toward me slowly, our eyes meeting for the first time since our post orgasmic bliss. Confusion, suspicion, maybe even a little bit of doubt lingered behind them.

“What are the conditions, Stevie?”

“We get married loudly. Put it in the papers, online, social media, everywhere that I can think of, we shout to the world that you and I are married. We don't have to have a big wedding, but we'll probably need a photographer so that we can share some images online. We make it look believable enough that it’s a legitimate marriage even though we both will know, and our families will know, that it’s nothing more than a marriage of convenience.”

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