LOnesome Man - Extended excerpt!

Chapter One
 
Libby
 
“This is not the job for you,” my roommate said into her phone. “He likes the girl-next-door look, and the full girlfriend experience. That’s not you, Fantasia.” Jessica listened a few moments more. “I said no.” Then she hung up.
“What was that about?” I asked, my gaze sliding to her and away from the new invoice from Clarence Medical that had just landed in my inbox.
Jessica scowled at her laptop, then sat back with a sigh. “Every year this guy…he lives in the mountains, like so remote you can only reach it by plane. Anyway, he has one of our girls go stay with him, sometimes up to a month.”
I screwed up my face. Jess worked for a super-exclusive escort service, and it was her job to match the clients with women.
She chuckled. “Come on, he’s a country bumpkin like you. You’re gonna judge this guy, really? You used to live in the middle of nowhere. Surely you can sympathize?”
I shrugged. “Okay, yes, it can get lonely. I mean, I wouldn’t hire someone to come and scratch my, um…itch, but no, I’m not going to judge this guy.”
Jessica smirked. “He’s young, hot, and by the end of their stay, whoever I send out there comes back brokenhearted and totally in love with the guy. He’s sweet and funny and attentive, fucks like a champ and enjoys getting his woman off. They fight over who gets to go every year. This time, it’s for only two weeks though, and honestly, I’ve contemplated doing it myself.”
“You’re serious?”
She nodded. “Hell yes. A two-week vacation away from the city, where you’re treated like a queen and experience multiple orgasms? What’s not to like? He’s had a girl flown in every year for the last four years. So we know he’s safe, fun, and you earn a shitload of money.”
A weird hot feeling moved through me. Was I blushing? It felt like I was blushing. “How much money?”
“After our cut…enough for a deposit on a really fucking nice house,” Jessica said with a grin.
“What kind of women does he like?”
“Soft. Bigger girls. Curves, lots of them. No gym bodies.”
“What about me?” I blurted before I knew I was going to say it. I was exactly what she described, though, and I needed money, a lot of it—and fast. I could cover Dad’s medical bills for another month, then Mom would be left to look after him and pay for it on her own. She couldn’t do that. My mom suffered from severe anxiety, and where they lived, she couldn’t go out and get a job, even if she were capable of doing it. If I didn’t make some cash, and fast, they were going to be in serious trouble. I was already working two jobs while trying to fit in auditions.
 Jessica’s eyes widened. “What?”
“How hard can it be?” 
“You want to stay with this guy, have sex with him…for money? You, Libby Brantford?” Jessica said in disbelief.
“You just said you’d thought about doing it. Why not me? I need the money, Jess, you know I do, and I’ve had a one-night stand before. How is this any different?”
“Your father doesn’t deserve shit from you, Libs. Yes, sex work is good honest work. Shit, I’ve taken the occasional job myself, but that’s because I don’t get all hung up on that stuff. You’re built differently. And you sure as hell shouldn’t have to pimp yourself out for your asshole father.”
She was right, but I wasn’t doing this for him. I was doing it for my mom. “What choice do I have? Mom can’t do it alone.”
“You’d be with this guy, one-on-one for two weeks. You can’t get up the next morning and leave, not without a plane.”
“I’m an actress. It would be just another role, and you said yourself he’s a nice guy, that he’s safe.” I was beginning to like the idea more and more. I was positive I could get some of the girls at the bar to cover my shifts—I did it for them all the time—and what I’d earn doing this job would more than cover any income I’d lose.
“Libs, come on, you can’t be serious?”
“I’m telling you I can do this.”
“No way.”
“Will he expect me to do a bunch of, you know, sex moves? A striptease or some freaky stuff in bed?” I really hoped not. “I mean, I could still do it, if I had to. I’ll just research like I would for any other role.”
Jessica chewed her lip, her head tilted to the side. “No, actually, he doesn’t usually like anything over-the-top. Like I said on the phone, he wants the girlfriend experience. He likes the girls to relax and be themselves, have fun with him. Which is probably why they all fall for the guy. He gets under their skin, makes them feel seen, cared for, but ultimately, he always sends them back. We’ve lost two girls that way. They quit as soon as they got home, wanting to find the one.”
“That alone is reason enough not to send any of your girls, right? And I’m literally the girl-next-door type. I can do this, Jess. I can go there, have some fun, come home and forget it happened. All my financial worries will be over, and I got a vacation with a sexy guy to boot.”
Jess shut her laptop and shook her head. “Libs, no. This gig is not for you.”
I may not have a huge amount of experience, but I wasn’t some prude. I’d had a friend at college who’d paid her way by doing sex work. She’d loved it and made a crapload of cash.
I needed that money. I just had to talk Jessica into it.

 
Chapter Two
 
Libby
 
The small plane tilted to the side as it lined up with the runway, a stretch of field that seemed way too freaking short to me. The pilot, a huge guy named Cash, who’d said very little the entire way, wasn’t helping my nerves any.
Nope, the butterflies in my belly were off the freaking charts. You need to get it the hell together.
My client had changed his requirements from previous visits. This time he didn’t just want the girlfriend experience, he wanted me to pretend I was his wife—a wife he planned to knock up. He wanted family vibes, affection, love, kisses, and lots of sex.
 No, he didn’t want me to dance for him or do freaky stuff in the bedroom, but for the next two weeks he did want me to pretend I was his.
He wanted me to walk off this plane and greet him as if I already knew him intimately. His time was precious. He treated himself to this experience once a year; the rest of that time he was alone. He didn’t have the luxury of getting to know yous and wooing or whatever.
It would require a lot of role-play on my part, but I was an actor who excelled at improv, which was how I finally got Jess to relent. I could totally do this. I could give him what he wanted. So no, when I saw him for the first time, I couldn’t be shy or awkward, I had to be excited. This wasn’t two people meeting each other for the first time, this was a reunion.
I clicked open the last file from Jessica, the one that I hadn’t looked at yet. This one had the important details, like name, age, and a photo. I’d deliberately chosen not to look until now, so I wouldn’t have time to talk myself out of it. There would be no backing out if I saw him and he wasn’t my type or he didn’t meet some preconceived ideas I’d formed. I couldn’t risk doing that, but I was only human.
My type shouldn’t and couldn’t factor into this, which is why I chose to wait until there was no opportunity to change my mind. Plus, this was how improv worked, no time to prepare, to overthink and get myself in knots and screw things up. I worked better this way.
My ears popped as the plane turned almost all the way on its side. I bit back my shriek before Cash, thankfully, pulled out of the turn and began our descent. I slid my phone into my pocket so I could grip the safety harness as we flew at speed toward a field. I squeezed my eyes closed, then sucked in a breath as the wheels finally touched the ground and bounced along the runway.
The plane had barely stopped before Cash opened the cockpit door, jumped down, and rounded the nose of the aircraft. He hadn’t turned the engine off, and the propeller was still spinning as he opened my door, unbuckled my seat belt, and lifted me down like a sack of potatoes, planting me on my feet. He then grabbed my bags and carried them to the side of the runway.
He strode back, while I looked around me.
“Stand over there, Ruth,” he yelled over the engine noise. “He’ll drive up once I’m back in the plane.”
“Oh, okay. Thanks, Cash.” Ruth was my nom de plume, not that Libby was super unique, but I didn’t want to risk using my own name. In the brief it said he’d have another name for me while we role-played, which I guess I’d find out when I met him.
Cash’s lips curled in a half smile, and he gave me a chin lift. I hustled out of the way as he got back in the cockpit, and I watched as he swung the small plane around, then headed back down the runway.
I quickly tapped on my phone screen to open it so I could get the guy’s name—nothing happened. Crap. My phone was dead.
The far-off sound of a revving engine grew louder, and I lifted my hand to shield my eyes as a truck appeared in the distance, heading toward me.
Oh shit, here he comes. And now I had no idea what he looked like or even his freaking name.
Thankfully I did know that if he was wearing something black, or we were in bed, I was to be in character unless he indicated otherwise. When we weren’t in play, it was up to me whether we did anything sexual. His brief also said he wanted to jump straight into it the first day, so I was prepared for that at least.
I didn’t need his name. I could get by without it, right? I was his wife, I’d use an endearment. At least until I charged my freaking phone.
Taking a deep breath, I shoved down my nerves and let my character take over. I was a young woman separated for several months from the man she loved, now finally they were going to be together again. She can’t wait to touch him, kiss him, just be with him. It wasn’t hard to get into character.
I told myself my fear over the unknown was excitement, and I let the flutters in my belly, and the throb of my pulse, fill me with anticipation. I was a wife, overflowing with the joy of seeing the man I loved again after so long without him.
The truck stopped and the door opened.
He got out.
Holy fuck.
My mind went blank and my heart felt as if it stuttered to a stop in my chest before bursting back to life.
Oh fuck, I knew him.
Tucker.
Holy shit, it was Tucker Smith.
We’d been introduced through a program for homeschooled kids, and because of how isolated we were, with no cell or internet service, we’d talked over two-way radio every Friday for years, until I’d gone to college, then we’d mainly emailed, but there’d been the odd phone call as well. He’d been my best friend, my only friend, then as we’d gotten older…
My stomach churned and guilt slammed through me.
He’d never seen my face, not really. The one photo he had seen of me, I’d been looking down, my hair obscuring most of my face, but I’d seen him. I knew what he looked like, every chiseled inch of that handsome face.
My junior year of college, there’d been an article published online about his woodwork, how he was selling to some exclusive stores in the city and making waves from his remote homestead in the mountains. I’d teased him about it—and had fallen even more in love with him than I’d already been.
We hadn’t talked in four years though. I’d pulled back—I’d ghosted him because I was a goddamn coward. 
Now Tucker, my Tucker, was striding toward me, in the flesh, tall and built and utterly freaking gorgeous.
And yes, he was wearing a black T-shirt under his jacket.
My heart slammed into the back of my ribs and my knees went weak. His gaze did a sweep of me from head to feet and his lips curled up in a gorgeous smile. Would he be able to recognize me from that one shitty photo I’d sent him? Would he recognize my voice? We hadn’t talked over the phone much after I went to college because the cell and internet services were patchy out here, but it was still possible.
My feet were moving before I knew what I was doing. I ran at him and jumped. He caught me, his low chuckle lifting goose bumps across my skin as he held me close.
For so many years I’d wondered what it would feel like to be in this man’s arms. I wrapped my arms and legs around him. “Tuck,” I said breathlessly. He was huge and muscled and smelled like pine and sexy mountain man. I needed to tell him who I was. I needed to tell him the truth--
“Libby, baby,” he said roughly, one hand on my ass, the other sliding into my hair. “You’re finally here, darlin’.”
The sound of a record scratching filled my head. Libby? Did he just call me Libby? Yes. Yes, he freaking did. He knew who I was. Oh god, he knew it was me.
He fisted my hair lightly, while my mind spun wildly. I lifted my head. His green eyes met mine, glittering, filled with pleasure, with heat. “Missed my little wife,” he said.
My breath caught and my stomach sank. He looked right at me without a scrap of recognition, and it was as if I’d been punched in the chest.
He had no idea who I was. He was playing a part, my husband—and he’d chosen Libby, my name, as the name of his fictional wife.
Holy fuck.
He wasn’t forcing me closer, but he wanted it. He wasn’t going to force anything if I wasn’t into it, even though I was bought and paid for.
He was waiting, so I did what any wife would do, what I’d desperately wanted to do since I was thirteen years old—what any woman would, faced with a husband this beautiful and missing him badly—I kissed him. I wrapped my arms around him tighter and kissed the hell out of him.
I kissed Tucker Smith.
My Tucker.
He spun, pressing me against the side of the truck, his mouth opening over mine. His beard tickled as his tongue swept inside my mouth, and he tasted like peppermint and hunger, and I was instantly turned on. I’d imagined this moment for years, but this felt, god, so dirty and sexy and freeing.
Did this feel dishonest? Yes, but he never had to know it was me. He could never know it was me. Tucker had used my name, he’d called me his wife. He was pretending I was his wife.
I could never go back to living this kind of life, so secluded, which was why I’d pulled away when he asked me to come and stay with him several years ago, why I’d convinced myself I wasn’t in love with him when he asked me to give this thing between us a go. But he didn’t want anyone permanent, either. Right? That was why he did this. That’s why he stuck to escorts now.
If he knew it was me, everything would get complicated, messy. Not only would it embarrass him, but I wasn’t sure he’d even want to see the real me, not after the way I ended things between us. He’d brought someone out here to be with him because he wanted a fantasy, not the real Libby.
This was all we could ever have had, and by some miracle the universe had found a way to give it to me, to us.
The kiss deepened, and I focused on why I was here. I was here for him, so he could take pleasure from me. No one would ever know what we did together. I’d be gone in two weeks, then I’d never see him again. I didn’t need to agonize over leaving him, or feel guilty about messing with his emotions. I could let all the walls drop. I could be with him, love him like a wife would, and feel no guilt and no shame.
His grip on my ass tightened, and he pressed against me, grinding his hard cock between my spread thighs. It was insane, but I wanted him, right then, so fucking badly. “I need you,” I said against his lips. “I need to feel you inside me.”
A shudder went through his big body. “Fuck,” he groaned. “You deserve better than to be fucked against the side of the truck, Libs, but I can’t wait to have you.”
Libs. My heart crashed against my ribs.
We’d been in each other’s company for two minutes and I was so hot for him, my panties were soaked. “Your wife wants to be fucked by her husband. That’s what I deserve,” I said, not sure where my courage came from, but the anonymity was so incredibly freeing.
He shuddered again, his hand gripping my bare thigh. His skin was rough as hell, and for some reason that turned me on even more. I dropped my legs long enough for him to yank my underwear off and shove them in his pocket.
He slid his fingers over my bare pussy.
“So fucking wet,” he groaned.
“You do that to me,” I rasped, not shy, not awkward, just needy as hell for him. Knowing it was just him and me out here, that I could let this happen and it was safe, god, it was liberating.
I yanked on his belt, undoing it quickly, then popped the button and hurriedly tugged down his zipper. He hoisted me back up, and I wrapped my legs around him again, while he kissed me wildly, just like desperate lovers reunited. Then the head of his bare cock was right there at my opening. He was thick, so much so that when he started pushing inside me I gasped for breath.
“Holy shit, Tuck, you’re so big.” I whimpered. “I missed this so much,” I added, because I was his wife and this was our reunion, not our first time. He slid deeper. “Oh fuck.”
Tucker Smith was inside me. How was this happening? How was this my life? I felt like I’d won the goddamn lottery.
“You missed your husband’s cock, didn’t you?” he muttered against my lips.
My pussy spasmed. “Yes, I missed you so much,” I said, thighs shaking. He was fucking huge everywhere. I’d never had a cock that big inside me and there was a pinch of pain from the stretch, but nothing I couldn’t handle, and honestly, he felt so impossibly good.
I’d never been fucked without a condom before, either, but that was part of the wife experience he’d asked for. He wanted it raw. So I’d been tested and gone on the pill, and I loved that too. Loved that I got to play out this fantasy with him, because it was mine as well, wasn’t it? All of this was my fantasy too.
He slid out and thrust back in, fucking me hard, like a guy who hadn’t been inside a woman for an entire year. I didn’t expect him to last long, and I could tell he wasn’t going to, not with the way he trembled, not with how he was now slamming into me, pinning me against the cold steel of his tuck, not when I was so close to coming myself from just this.
I never came from sex alone, but everything about this—seeing Tucker for the first time face to face, the role-play, being fucked by him—it was wrong and dirty and sexy as hell. My pussy spasmed, clamping down hard. I threw my head back, and his big hand was there, protecting it, as I orgasmed, crying out, pulling him with me while I sucked and kissed his gorgeous lips.
“Fuck,” he growled. “That’s it, Libby, come for me. Come all over my cock like a good little wife.”
That’s exactly what I’d just done.
He grunted, then groaned low as he slammed into me, pulsing heavily, pumping me full of come, holding himself deep, thrusting and grinding, while I panted and gasped for breath.
Finally, he lifted his head and kissed me deeply, then gentling slowly, making my head spin. “That was fucking perfect, Libs.”
His praise made my belly swoop. I smiled up at him and hoped my lips weren’t as trembly as they felt. I knew what he was saying, without him having to break character. I’d done good. I’d given him what he wanted. No, there was no way I could say who I was, not now. “Was pretty good from where I’m standing as well,” I said, unable to stop looking at him, at that handsome face. How many times had I imagined being here with him? Too many.
He chuckled, pressed a kiss to my forehead, and slid out of me carefully. His come gushed out of me, sliding down my thigh when he lowered me to my feet. I looked down and Tucker did the same. When I looked back up, my face heated for some stupid reason, but he made a low, growly sound.
He liked seeing his come on me. He took my panties from his pocket, then stunned me by crouching and using them to clean me up before putting them back in his pocket.
He straightened, then gently eased me forward and opened the truck door for me. “Let’s get you home. It’s getting cold.”
I bit my lip and nodded, climbing in. He closed the door behind me, then strode over to collect my bags. I couldn’t believe I’d just had sex with him. With Tucker. Four years ago, he’d still been my best friend, my dream guy, my hot-as-hell mountain man, who I wanted so badly I ached, but who would forever be out of reach for so many reasons. So no, I didn’t feel used or weird despite the fact that he’d paid for it, that he’d paid for me. Rather, I felt warm all over—excited to be here with him. Yes, there was a little bit of guilt, but it wasn’t like I’d planned this.
He strode back, put my bags in the bed of the truck and got in, then glanced over at me. “Made your favorite for dinner.”
“You did?”
He nodded, started the truck, and we headed off.
I’d answered a questionnaire several weeks ago that asked me all kinds of things about myself. Including my favorite meal, what else I liked to eat. My favorite scent, flower, TV shows, music. I’d been given the same info about him, that part of the brief I had read, but still, nothing had tipped me off. How could it? I never in a million years thought I’d get off that plane and find Tucker waiting for me. “Good, ’cause I’m starved.”
He glanced over at me again, his gaze sliding down my body. “Me too.”
His voice was deep and rough, and there was no missing his meaning. Tucker was going to make the most of his time with me, and I was more than happy with that. My nerves had settled, not surprising. Sex was a serious icebreaker. The intimacy side of this was going to be harder for me, though, especially now, but whatever happened over the next two weeks, I couldn’t allow myself to completely fall for this man.
So when he said, “Come ’ere,” in that sexy voice of his, my nerves burst back to life, and I did what he asked and slid across the bench seat and pressed into his side. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders, and I was finding it hard to breathe normally again.
We drove over a rise and the house came into view. It was breathtaking, a two-story with walls made of thick logs stacked on top of each other, and there was a wide wraparound porch that surrounded the entire house. A large barn stood beside it as well as a few other smaller outbuildings.
I nearly said how beautiful it was, but I stopped myself. We were still in play, so I’d already know what it looked like.
Tucker pulled to a stop. “Wait there.” He got out and rounded the hood again, opening the door for me. “Head inside, baby, I’ll get the bags.”
I nodded, pressed my hand to his chest and looked up at him. He leaned in and kissed me, making a humming sound of contentment when he did. It was so remote out here; we were literally in the middle of nowhere. I knew how lonely a life like this could be, but he was totally alone now that his parents were gone. An awful churning filled my belly, while memories of the past, of my childhood tried to force their way forward. I quickly shoved them down before they could take hold. No wonder he did this. He used to play the loneliness off when we talked, that he liked the peace, but going without physical contact for so long, he had to be craving another human being, just someone to talk to, a simple touch. A hug.
My heart clenched, hurting for him.
I headed inside while he grabbed the bags and followed. A fire crackled in the living room. It was warm and cozy, and I loved it.
“Dinner smells amazing.”
“I did the potatoes the way you like. Come on.” He reached for my hand and led me upstairs and into what was obviously his bedroom.
The bed was intricately carved wood, the rest of the furniture was the same. It smelled fresh in here, with a hint of vanilla, my favorite scent. “You wanna grab a shower? There’s time before the food’s ready.”
“Yeah, that’d be great,” I said, trying not to let the awkwardness sink in.
He strode over to me, his strong hands curling around my upper arms. “Really fucking glad you’re here, Libs,” he said, voice husky.
It was another thing that a husband would say to his wife after time apart, but I knew it was the real woman under the fantasy he was talking to. That it had come from a place of deep loneliness, and he meant it. “Me too,” I whispered.
He’d wanted me as much as I had him, and he had no idea that the real Libby was standing in front of him, that it was the real Libby he’d just kissed.

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