Truly Madly Deeply: A Grumpy x Sunshine Romance (Forbidden Love Book 1)

“Lovefool”—The Cardigans

Later that night, I tossed and turned in bed.

Semus was vying to snatch the International Asshole Award from Row. Not only had he peed in every single pair of shoes I owned today, but he’d also decided to attack my feet whenever I had the audacity to shift in my own bed.

I couldn’t stop rewinding the disastrous Christmas lighting event in my head. Thinking about Kieran’s dislocated nose, which had been promptly relocated by Randy, who’d reassured him by saying, “No one has the right to look as good as you did, son. Wasn’t it Shakespeare who said that you need your face to be a li’l messed up to be truly beautiful?”

“I believe the quote is, there is no exquisite beauty without some strangeness in the proportions,” Kieran had muttered, hissing as his nose bone was jammed back into place. “And that was Edgar Allan Poe.”

“What a fancy pansy name,” Randy had mumbled into his gin bottle, which had been bundled in a brown paper bag.

I’d twisted my hair into a braid to do something with my hands. “Did you know that Edgar Allan Poe allegedly died of cholera, influenza, rabies, syphilis, and hyperglycemia?”

“Wow.” Dylan’s eyes had nearly bulged. “Clean living was obviously his passion.”

Allison was the one who had ended up hitting the button once Row had stalked off, disappearing in a cloud of hot, red anger. Yellow lights had engulfed Main Street. Allison had slipped into her Escalade soon after, accompanied by her assistant, Lucinda.

Mom and I had retired early. She’d asked questions about Row, so I’d had to pacify her by lying and saying Row and I were sort of dating.

Alexa, play “Little Lies” by Fleetwood Mac.

This lie wasn’t even a white one. It was a glaring neon lie. One that collapsed onto your head and killed you. But I’d had to find an excuse for why we were so intense together, and we want to have sex together but also want to kill each other was a pretty weak explanation.

That kiss with Kieran had hurt him, and to add salt to the wound, I had done what I always did when I felt threatened—I’d bricked up with anxiety, refusing to give him an inch or show him that I cared. Just like the night he had taken my virginity, I’d made him feel disposable and meaningless.

And the thought of Row feeling those things made me feel nauseous with guilt.

I needed to make this right. With the boy who’d made me a broccoli birthday cake. Who had taken my virginity because I’d wanted to get rid of it, even though he had wanted so much more than just that. Who had helped me face my trauma and fear in neon attire, just to make me smile. Who had an excellent track record of giving me employment, rides, and irresistible kisses whenever I needed them.

Flinging my legs off the bed, I raced downstairs, shoving my feet into my sneakers on my way to the door. I stopped by the ugly key bowl, squeezing a Juicy Tubes gloss to my lips and extracting Mom’s keys to her Subaru Crosstrek. I was sure she wouldn’t mind.

Sixty-six percent sure, to be exact.

I drove to the Half Mile Inn, my heart in my throat. I didn’t know what I was going to tell him. Only that it was time to lay it all out. I parked in front of the farmhouse-turned-inn. It was white, black-shuttered, and devastatingly charming. Pots and plants spilled out of every windowsill in vivid colors, and a handful of snow covered the roof, like a little hat. Dim yellow light danced from beyond the windows upstairs.

I got out and looked up at the moon. It glowed like a shiny pearl, round and full, achingly perfect against the dusky night. I swallowed hard, took my phone out, and put Row’s favorite song on. “You Really Got Me” by The Kinks.

The song flooded out of my phone. I raised my arm and held it toward the windows, waiting for Row’s face to appear.

It did appear.

But it did not appear happy.

He wore a white tee that clung to his tan, tatted arms as he slid the window up. “Christ, Dot, it’s two in the morning!”

“Time is an abstract concept!” I yelled back, grinning.

“Jail isn’t, and Gertie lives down the hall and is very trigger-happy. Turn that shit off.”

I did so dutifully, swallowing my mortification. Oops. Hadn’t thought that one through. “Sorry,” I winced.

“Is this retaliation for punching your little boyfriend?” His scowl deepened as he watched me from above.

“What? No!”

“Why are you here, then?” His eyes swept over me suspiciously.

“I couldn’t sleep.” I let out a huff, hugging myself. “You said if I can’t sleep, I could talk to you.”

He blinked, surprised but not completely thawed. “I take it Kieran was busy.”

“Kieran…” I trailed off, exhausted from pretending Row was just a friend. “Kieran is not in the race.”

His throat moved with a swallow. “Is that right?”

“Honest to God truth.” Then, because it was time to fess up, I added, “Look, I’m tired of running away from this.”

“From what?”

“From us.”

That seemed to smooth out his frown. He parked his elbows on the windowsill. “Allison ambushed me to turn on those stupid lights this afternoon. I told her to take a hike, but then she said it might be good to show people I still care about this town—”

I shook my head. “I should’ve cleared the air before I got mad.”

“No,” he insisted. “I should’ve…I don’t know. Called. Texted. Explained.” He worked his jaw back and forth. “As soon as I showed up, she dragged me there in a panic. I wasn’t doing her a favor, Dot. I was trying to show people in this town I’m not a villain because…” He sighed. “Because I know it is important to you.”

“Row,” I croaked, hanging my head down shamefully.

“I’m sorry you saw us together, but our entire conversation was her sucking up to me, and me telling her I’m fucking crazy about you and complaining you keep turning me down. I wasn’t above wounding her ego to make you happy.” Pause. “I’m not above doing anything if it makes you happy, if I’m honest.”

I nodded, wishing he were next to me. That I could touch him. “I’m sorry too.”

“What for?”

I shrugged. “Being so irresistible you had to punch Kieran in front of a full audience.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I’d have taken any excuse to punch Kieran.”

“You dislocated his nose, you know.” I toed the frosty ground with the tip of my shoe.

“Dylan brought me up to speed.” He kept his gaze locked on mine. “Anything else you want to tell me?” Row quirked an eyebrow, one hand propped against his window.

Yes. No. Just come downstairs so we can talk.

“Jeffrey Dahmer gave his neighbors meat sandwiches, which some believe contained his victim’s human flesh,” I blurted out.

Nice one, Cal. Super seductive.

Row’s lips twitched. “I know someone who ate their own knee cartilage. Said it tasted like pig.”

“Really?” I rubbed my palms together to gain heat. “I heard it tastes like chicken or tuna.”

Row shook his head seriously, and I suppressed a laugh. No one rivaled Row’s ability to handle my quirkiness. “Straight-up pork. She cooked it too. Minimal seasoning.”

“Huh,” I said.

He raised his eyebrows in question. “Anything else?”

“Nope.” I gulped. “Glad we straightened it all out.”

“Great. Thanks for that before-bed tidbit.”

“So…” I walked back, jerking my finger behind my shoulder, to the car. Cal, you coward. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then. For the run.”

“I’ll be there.”

“And work.”

“I’ll be there too.”

I forced myself to turn around and cross the street to my car.

Do not look back. He sent you on your way. You couldn’t have been clearer.

Couldn’t I, though? I had spoken to him about cannibal sandwiches. Maybe this wasn’t how one usually expressed their longing toward another.

With a sigh, I fumbled for the car key in my sweatpants, unlocked the Subaru, and reached for the driver’s door handle. I pulled it an inch before a hand slammed it shut behind me, grabbing my waist and whipping me around.

It was Row. And he looked raw.

“Moonlight. Music. Chin tilt. You came here because you wanted me to kiss you, didn’t you?” His tiger eyes gleamed like a thousand fireflies in the dark. My knee-jerk reaction was to deny, deny, deny through my teeth. Damn anxiety. I plowed through that instinct like swimming against a heavy stream.

I gulped. “Yeah.”

“Fuck.” His shoulders sagged with relief. “I’m so glad I’m just slow, not completely dumb.”

His mouth fused with mine, sucking away my oxygen and all rational thought.

This time, it wasn’t awkward and apologetic like the first time. Not explosive and frustrated like the second time either. This was new, hungry, and perfect.

His tongue swept across the seam of my lips before prompting them to part with a flick. I opened up for him, our tongues tangling in an erotic dance. Row cupped the side of my face, groaning ferally, digging his inked fingers into my hair. A tide of heat crashed inside my belly, sending currents of warmth to my nipples, spine, and the back of my skull. I clutched his shirt, burrowing into him as he deepened the kiss, tilting my head back, pinning me against the car.

“Dot.”

He tasted divine. Of toothpaste and a shot of whiskey and something unapologetically male. Primal, hot, uncontained. My fingers wound tighter around the fabric of his shirt, and I felt the defined, tight ridges of his pecs and the dusting of hair on his chest. My toes curled and I whimpered into a hot, wet kiss that didn’t have a beginning or an end. It felt like we were fused together, a hotwire of mini-orgasms.

I needed more. I needed everything. I wasn’t even sure what everything entailed. I ran my frigid fingers down his arm, lacing my fingers in his and guiding his hand to cup one of my breasts. I wasn’t wearing a bra, and my nipple was tight and puckered, begging to be teased.

“Missed your tits,” he hissed out huskily, sounding almost pained, as his thumb rubbed and flicked my nipple through my sweater.

“Do you remember them much?” I explored his mouth like it was a forbidden fruit, devouring its juices, seeds, and flesh.

“I remember every inch of you.” A satisfied growl made its way from the back of his throat, and he pinched my nipple teasingly, just south of inflicting pain. “Each individual cell.”

His hand skimmed my rib cage, running down my belly, stopping at the hem of my sweater before snaking underneath it. He swirled my skin with his fingertips, all while angling his head to kiss me deeper. My knees gave out and I clawed his shoulders to stay upright, heat racing down my body to the apex between my thighs. I could feel my pulse in my clit. My blood pumped inside it, making it unbearably sensitive and swollen.

This was too much, and yet entirely not enough.

His hand hiked up under my sweater, the pad of his finger rubbing my nipple, and I melted into him, sucking the bottom of his lower lip greedily into my mouth with a desperate moan. “More.”

“How much?” He kissed a path down my jaw, then neck, then collarbone. It was a sticky kiss, full of my lip gloss and its fruity, sweet taste.

“All of it. I want you,” I said.

“I need you,” he hissed.

He buried his face in the crook of my neck, thrusting his kraken-sized erection between my thighs. My clit pulsated against it through our clothes, and I swore he could feel it. His cock jerked, tap-tap-tapping it, bringing me closer to the edge.

“Row?”

“Dot?”

“Jail isn’t an abstract concept.” I pulled away from our kiss, clearing my throat. “We should go upstairs before we get arreste—”

I didn’t get the chance to finish the sentence because Row scooped me up and turned around, carrying me into the inn. The lights were off in reception. A security guard snored peacefully in his chair in front of the monitors, his ranger hat tipped down to cover his eyes. I giggled in Row’s arms, kicking my feet up.

“Shh. You’ll wake up the dead, and I’ll be too busy with your ass to fight zombies.” He shoved two fingers into my mouth to shut me up, and I sucked them immediately, my thighs clenching with need as he took the stairs two at a time.

He kicked the door to his room open, and I tore away from our kiss to register the place he’d called home for the past year.

Freshly painted. Crown moldings. Heavy wooden furniture spaciously peppered across the room. Zero personality inside it. Row was ready to up and leave at a moment’s notice.

We are just two passing ships. You can’t handle more, Cal.

But it was too late to back down, even if I knew my heart was about to sink like the Titanic. He placed me on his bed, then stepped back, as if admiring his handiwork. I knew he was memorizing me between his sheets because he had no intention of keeping me there.

I should have felt self-conscious in my sweatpants and Cookie Monster sweater, but I didn’t. I felt beautiful. Irresistible through his hooded eyes, like a flower in bloom, kissed by the unrelenting sun, on a flawless summer day.

Happy. Alive. Home.

Row rounded the bed, trying to work out what he wanted to do first. I was wide-eyed, a little scared, but mostly excited. I had gotten Dylan’s okay. I could do this without any fear or doubt. He stopped in front of the foot of the bed, reached to grab the backs of my thighs, and dragged me to the edge. I gasped as he brought one of my legs up to rest on his shoulder, pressing a hot kiss to my inner ankle as he plucked my sneaker off. “You sure you want to do this?”

“Never been this sure in my entire life,” I admitted. This time, not a lie.

“If you feel uncomfortable and scared…” he started.

“I won’t,” I promised, and our eyes met across the length of my body.

“Good. Because I’m going to eat your cunt like it’s fucking ice cream, and come for seconds and thirds,” he informed me, businesslike, swirling his tongue over my ankle bone, my heel clasped inside his rough hand.

A ticklish, delightful sensation traveled up my leg like a spark, detonating at my center. “Ahhhh. So, unfortunately, I didn’t actually shav—”

“Don’t care.” He reached to remove my other shoe, repeating the process of kissing my ankle, my foot, down to my little toes.

“No, seriously. There’s a lot going on down ther—”

“Sounds like fun. I’m eager to explore.” My sneakers fell to the floor with a thud, and he tugged my sweatpants off, revealing my black cotton panties. His lips quirked with a smile as I lost all decorum, spreading for him, wide and eager. “Yeah, open those beautiful thighs. I want to see your pink cunt dripping for me. That’s my girl.”

My. Girl. Heaven was a place on Earth and it was Row Casablancas’s bed.

He rolled his hot tongue along my leg, inching north to my inner thigh, lowering himself to his knees inch by inch as he tasted my skin. When he reached my apex, he buried his face in my slit through my panties, inhaling deeply. A rush of heat ran between my legs, making every muscle in my body tense with anticipation. My breath hitched as Row began kissing my inner thighs like they were my mouth, swirling his tongue, nuzzling his nose, making me open my legs wider. I grabbed one of his pillows and moaned into it loudly.

A hand reached from between my legs, grabbing the pillow and tossing it on the floor. “No fucking way. I want eye contact.”

“But I’m embarrassed,” I whined.

“Being perfect is a lot of pressure. I get it.”

“Row.” I grabbed a fistful of his hair, tugging him closer, arching my back, my pussy quivering with anticipation. “Why’d we wait so long?”

He raised his head from between my legs, scowling at me. “Because you are stubborn, annoying, indecisive, flak—”

“Okay, okay.” I pushed his head back into my crotch. “Go back to doing what you do best.”

He took his sweet time, kissing me through the fabric of my panties torturously slowly. “You smell like heaven.” One of his palms pressed against my inner thigh, his pinky hooked into my panties so that he tickled my tight hole. Not penetrating, but teasing it enough that it added more pressure to my building orgasm. His other hand snaked up my body, pushing my sweater up until it was rolled halfway on my breasts.

“Dot?”

“Hmm?” I moaned and thrashed, close to climaxing before he’d even paid my pussy attention.

“Play with your pretty tits for me.”

I reached for one of my breasts and plucked a nipple, a shot of electricity running from my spine to between my legs. I hadn’t realized how full and delicate my boobs felt.

“Yeah, baby. Just like that. So beautiful. So innocent. So mine.” He sank his teeth into my flesh through my panties, biting and dragging his upper teeth all the way down to my crack. I shuddered, my muscles burning, the desire so intense I forgot to draw a breath.

“Slap your tit, Cal,” he instructed. I did. Oh crap. It felt good. Another rush of heat moved between my legs, and I knew he could see and smell how soaked I was. My panties were drenched.

“Row, please.”

He scraped the edge of my panties away with his teeth, removing them bit by bit like a curtain being drawn. “Say it,” he demanded hoarsely. “Give me your words. For once in this goddamn life, you come to me.”

I was about to come to him, at him, and on him. I popped my head up, and our eyes met through the valley of my breasts. We were both panting hard. “Please shove your tongue inside me before I die.”

“Good girl.”

“Say that again.”

“You’re my good, obedient girl. As such, you’ll get rewarded accordingly. Eyes on me now. I want you to see the filthy things I do to you.”

He pressed his thumb to my clit and pulled upward, dragging his tongue across my slit, bottom to top. His lips clasped around my clit. I flung my head back and groaned. My entire body was shaking as he pried me open, strong fingers spreading my ass cheeks and cunt, fucking me mercilessly with his tongue, in and out, in and out, his pinky stroking my anus playfully. Every time I squirmed or tried to move away from the intensity, he’d let go of one of my ass cheeks and slap one of my nipples. The pleasure was so intense, and there was nowhere to escape. I never thought I could be so open with someone, so trusting, so bare again.

I was leaking juices all over his mouth, his chin, and I felt my own wetness against his face every time his tongue drove into me. “You’re so fucking wet, I’m about to come just from eating you out,” he grunted, pushing his index finger inside me right along with his tongue, curling it to that coarse, deep spot inside that made me go wild every time my vibrator hit it. My whole body clenched and soared, and I convulsed around him.

“So fucking tight. Look how good you’re taking my tongue and finger. That’s my girl. Letting me stretch you out like that. You’ll be taking my cock so well, baby.”

His praise licked at my skin like rays of sun. The pleasure was so intense, I felt like I was floating on a cloud.

When he picked up speed, I couldn’t take it anymore. I grabbed his head with both my hands and began grinding against him shamelessly, riding his face like I was at a rodeo. He laughed devilishly as he added another finger, as his mouth sailed up, clasping my swollen clit and sucking it hard.

The sound of my juices slicking his fingers rang around the room. My nails dug harder into his scalp. “No one told me sex could be this good,” I moaned, every bone in my body deliciously heavy under the weight of an impending orgasm.

“This isn’t sex. This isn’t even foreplay.” Lick. Suck. Bite. “This is merely an appetizer. By the time you get to dessert, you won’t be able to stand straight.”

Oh.

My.

God.

“You’ve…become better at it,” I noted.

“No, Dot.” His mouth moved against my clit, scraping it with his teeth. It was literally the hottest thing I’d ever experienced. “We were always dynamite together. You were just too wrapped up in other things to notice.”

He flipped us over quickly, him flat on his back now, with me straddling his face. “Hold on to the headboard, Dot.”

“Why?”

“I’m about to tongue you to oblivion and back.”

Deciding once again to be a good girl, I curled my fingers over the upholstered headboard and sank my pussy directly onto his tongue. He groaned with pleasure when I was fully seated on top of his face, and I was seriously concerned for his ability to breathe. “Are you okay down there?”

“Perfect. Ride my tongue, Dot.”

“What if I break it? Your tongue is a muscle too.”

“Worth it.”

“Are you su—”

“I said what I said, baby.”

I rode his face like a cowgirl, his fingers sinking deep into my ass cheeks as he guided my movements and feasted on me like I was his last meal. Soon, heat bloomed over my skin, my muscles tightening, my mind becoming deliriously empty and clouded. The climax slammed into me with force, shaking me to the core. The little hairs on my arms stood on end, and my breath hitched as wave after wave of pleasure hit me. Tears stung the sides of my eyes before I collapsed on top of him, boneless and spent.

He was still beneath me, breathing hard. He kissed the side of my thigh before gently raising it so he could roll out from under it. A moment later, his heavy body dropped next to mine. Our faces were aligned. And he was beautiful, always, but especially now, when he appeared drowsy and content, his lips swollen and wet with my juices.

“Kiss you?” He grinned, asking for permission. I nodded. He reached to give me a peck on the mouth.

“Row,” I rasped, rolling my finger over his full bottom lip, the earthy, musky taste of my own arousal invading my mouth. “That was the best orgasm I’ve ever had.”

“Yeah.” He caught the tip of my finger between his straight teeth, nibbling playfully. “Mine too.”

“Hmm, what?” My eyes flared. I tilted my chin down, trying to peek, but he pounced quickly, kissing the living hell out of me, blocking the view of his crotch.

“I said what I said.”

He’d had an orgasm from eating me out? I needed to put a ring on it.

“Whoa. That is so—”

“Embarrassing?” He rose up and patted the nightstand, finding his pack of cigarettes and lighting one up.

“Amazing,” I breathed out.

“Yeah. You certainly are.” He puffed on his cancer stick.

The words pierced through my skin, soaking into my soul.

“What now?” I eyed him eagerly. Were we going to have sex? Was I going to redeem myself after that night four years ago?

“Well.” He reached with the hand that held the lit cigarette, using his thumb to brush residual lip gloss from the corner of my mouth. “I’ve been dreaming about your glittery pink lipstick smeared all over my dick.”