Bull (The Buck Boys Heroes 1)

There is an end date to all of this.

The fake marriage, the very real sex, and the feelings that have been blossoming inside me since we exchanged vows have an expiry date.

I let my arms fall to my side after he’s stripped me of my blouse and bra. “How so?”

His hands move behind me to draw the zipper of my skirt down. “There’s so little that I know about you.”

I smile at that. “It works both ways. I don’t know anything about you.”

My skirt is on the floor now, a red puddle of fabric at my feet. I move to kick off my heels as he drops to his knees.

He skims his lips over the silk of my panties, stopping to breathe in. “Here’s a secret about me. I love the way you smell. I crave your taste.”

My eyelids flutter shut as he pulls the fabric of the panties to the side to slide his tongue over my slick folds.

“It hurts to move.” I cup a hand over my sex. “You were rough.”

Graham glances at me as he tugs on the bottom hem of the T-shirt he just put on. “You’re not complaining.”

He’s right. I’m not.

After he ate me to orgasm, he took me on the bed. I climbed on top of him, straddling him as I rode him through another orgasm.

He told me then that it was his turn.

That’s when he pushed me onto my stomach, grabbed my hips, and fucked me harder than he ever had before.

I buried my screams in the bed coverings as he grunted my name out again and again.

It was everything I wanted in that moment and more.

“I have something for you,” he says as he stalks toward me.

I slip my panties on. “If it’s your cock I appreciate it. I do, but my pussy needs a break.”

That stops him mid-step. His head roars back in laughter.

It’s a beautiful sight. The sound is joyful.

It makes me realize that I’ve rarely heard it.

“It’s not funny,” I fake protest. “You were so deep.”

“Again, you’re not complaining,” he states as he stops in front of me.

I drop my hands to my hips, not caring that I’m only wearing a pair of panties and he’s fully dressed. “I like it.”

“I know.” He brushes his lips over mine. “Close your eyes and give me your hand.”

I do without a second thought.

My breath hitches when I feel the weight of something in my palm. “Can I look, please?”

Before he agrees, he kisses me again. This time it’s demanding and meant to steal my breath.

“Wow,” I whisper when he pulls back. “That was a gift in itself.”

He laughs, his breath trailing over my neck. “Open your eyes, Mrs. Locke.”

I take a second to savor the sound of that. When my eyes pop open, I glance down to find a small box wrapped in silver paper bound with a white ribbon. “What is it?”

“A belated wedding gift,” he says. “See for yourself.”

I hurriedly rip the wrapping paper free, tossing it on the floor. I steal a glance at my husband before I open the lid of a small white box. Inside is a pair of stunning earrings. There is no doubt in my mind that these are real diamonds. They are princess cut and have to be at least a carat each.

I gaze at Graham’s face. “This is too generous.”

His eyes search mine. “It’s not nearly enough, Trina. It’s a small token of my…”

I step in when his voice trails. I want to fill in the blank with the word love, but that’s far-fetched. Graham doesn’t love me. He appreciates me for helping him to make Mr. Abdon’s dying wish a reality.

“Appreciation,” I whisper.

He nods. “Right. It’s a small token of my appreciation.”

“I’ll wear them tonight.” I set to work removing the simple small gold hoops that I put in my ears this morning.

Graham reaches to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “The earrings will be all you wear when we fall back into bed later.”

I fasten the clasp on one of the diamond earrings before I tug the other from the box. “Is that an order or a request?”

He laughs as he watches my every move. “It’s your choice.”

I adjust the earrings before I push up my chin. “How do they look?”

“They pale in comparison to your beauty,” he says in a low tone. “But, I have to admit, they’re perfect.”

I move forward to kiss him softly on the corner of the mouth. “Thank you again, Graham.”

“You’re welcome.” He reaches up to cup his hand over my cheek. “You need to get dressed. I’ll order something in tonight. Then we’ll feast on what I picked up at your family’s bakery.”

It’ll be a taste of nostalgia in the midst of my complicated fake married life.

“You can tell me more about your siblings while you eat cookies, tarts, and cake.” He pulls back. “I’ll find Lloyd. You finish getting dressed.”