Luke
“No!” Sage exclaimed in frustration, bending forward again to try and bite into the apple that bobbed away and eluded her.
The paint on my cheek crinkled as I laughed, losing my hold on the apple I’d almost secured.
Once we’d finished our face painting competition, Sage claimed her victory in artistic skills. But I felt like a winner, too, when she beamed at me with that bright, beautiful smile of hers.
We’d then wandered through the festival, sharing stories about our favorite memories of Pumpkinfest from when we were really young. We’d grabbed food. Sage bought some handmade beads from a local vendor. And then we’d wound up at the apple bobbing tent—a favorite pastime for the both of us.
And that naturally led me to declare one more competition—who could fish out the most apples in a minute.
We’d faced each other over the tub of water, the apples floating on the surface. The woman running the tent, Sara, loosely tied our hands behind our back—because their use to capture the apples wasn’t allowed. She set the timer, Sage and I locking gazes for a heated second before the competition started.
Bending at the waist, I’d quickly secured the first apple with my teeth, dropping it into my bucket on the side. A small cheer erupted from the crowd around the tent, watching.
Sage grumbled under her breath, but the sound made its way to me over the rippling water, making me laugh and miss my next target. Meanwhile, she darted her neck down with the grace of a swan and bit into an incoming apple, letting it fall into her bucket with an adorable squeal of triumph.
Back and forth, we bobbed for apples, the frantic race to catch the most making the water bounce roughly with our effort. Sage didn’t hold back—and that was what drew me to her. She was just… her. Unabashedly. Outrageously. Delicious. Her.
She didn’t care that water splashed in her face or on her clothes. She didn’t care about how we looked or the crazy sounds that we made.
And that made it damn near impossible to not want everything I shouldn’t have.
“I don’t have a rule about not dating my sister, only a warning: hurt her and I’ll bury you in the orchard where no one will ever find you.” Callan’s voice echoed in my mind from earlier when he’d come over to the Fantasy stand to tell me to take care of Sage.
“Cheater,” she gasped when I tried to snatch an apple right out from under her, our time running out.
“How can I be cheating?” I turned my head, ignoring the apples that floated underneath it in order to look at her. “You’re the one making it so I can’t stop smiling.”
We’d both been laughing to the point of tears… but that wasn’t the point. There was something more to what I’d said, and she heard it.
Sage tipped her gaze to mine. The water settled, our faces hovering close to one another over the surface—close enough to kiss. We traded inhales and exhales, heating the air above the water with want, and my dick hardened.
“Because your mouth is bigger than mine,” she replied, her voice slightly breathless.
Everything slowed—the moment drawing out as my gaze lingered over her features. Her eyes were wide and alert, brimming with life and sparkling with the same kind of individuality that seeped from every luscious curve of her. Her cheeks were flushed underneath the face paint from the hurried effort of the game. But it was the way her plump lips glistened with water and probably a hint of apple juice that made me want to tip across the few inches separating us and capture the greatest prize of all.
A real fucking kiss from those lips.
“Well, your mouth is distracting mine,” I rasped.
The timer went but neither of us moved, locked in something that we were equally unsure about but both wanted. And the crowd that had swelled around us descended, cheering and eager to see who came out on top.
Sage’s face was bright red the entire time while Sara counted the apples, crowning me the winner by a mere two.
I picked out a giant, plush cartoon candy corn and ceremoniously gifted it to Sage, enjoying how her blush not only deepened but spread.
I waited until we were a few steps away from the tent—with some semblance of privacy—before I tried to talk to her.
“Sage—”
“We need to get back over to the pickup for the hayride. We’re going to be late,” she broke in, nodding her head in a clipped manner and then picking up a brisk pace to our next group activity.
Pulling my lips into a tight line, I realized I needed some time truly alone with Sage.
She might be my fake girlfriend, but there was nothing fake about the spark between us.
“Where’s Sean?” Mike asked as we all climbed up into the wagon filled with hay bales that was hitched to a massive tractor.
“He left. Said some kid got paint or something on his face and he needed to clean it and he’d be back,” Danny, one of the other groomsmen replied.
I slid a side-glance to Sage, who covered up her little devious chuckle with a cough.
Moving to the side of the step stool, I let Sage climb up first, unable to stop my eyes from drifting to the melodic sway of her hips and the fine curve of her ass.
And then the memory of her head bobbing for apples came to mind and twisted into the sweetest fantasy of her blonde curls bobbing as she sucked my cock.
“Fuck,” I grumbled under my breath, feeling my dick swell to stone.
Forcing my head down, I followed her into the wagon.
“Are you okay?” she asked, taking a seat on one of the bails and smoothing out the skirt of her dress.
“Perfect.” I grunted.
I was halfway to taking the seat beside her when my jeans pinched my hard cock and a hiss erupted from my lips. After that, there was no avoiding her attention as I discreetly—at least from the rest of the group—adjusted my raging hard-on and finally sat down.
“What happened to you two?” Rose asked, nodding to our painted faces and spotted clothes.
Sage and I looked at each other, and then she replied, “We had a face painting contest—which I won.” She held her hand up to my cheek, presenting her handiwork.
“And then we had an apple bobbing competition—which I won,” I added in return.
For the last couple years, I’d only viewed the pumpkin festival as a business and marketing opportunity. When else do you get tens of thousands of potential new customers in one place at one time? I couldn’t remember the last time I’d come just for myself… to enjoy the food and the games and the event as a spectator.
Until now.
“Only because he has a big mouth,” Sage quipped like it explained her loss.
I tipped my head closer to hers and teased, “That’s not the only big thing I have.”
I said it loud enough for everyone to hear, and sure enough, the group burst out laughing. Well, everyone except my girlfriend who glared at me in horror.
“Luke.” The heated hiss of her chiding was almost completely masked by the grumble of the tractor coming to life and the way it lurched forward to begin our ride.
“It’s the truth, sweetheart,” I said, falling easily—too easily—into the role I’d promised to play.
God, making her blush was as addictive as any drug and as satisfying as any accomplishment.
She snapped her head forward and changed the subject, “Alright, well now that we are moving, I’ve got some hot chocolate and cookies if everyone wants some.”
The hoots and claps from others was a resounding yes.
“You thought of everything, Sage,” her sister complimented her as she rose from her seat and carefully made her way to the beverage container sitting on a hay bale at the front of the wagon. There was a bag of cups stuck to the back of it, and she pulled out two cartons of cookies, handing one to each side of the wagon to open and enjoy.
The tractor drove a meandering path to the outskirts of the festival where the music died down and all that was left was the sight of thousands of glowing jack-o’-lanterns, their light competing with the twinkling stars of the clear night above us.
While the rest of the group chatted and drank their hot cocoa, I couldn’t take my eyes off of Sage.
I should’ve kissed her the other night.
Screw cider.
Screw Callan.
I wanted this woman, and I didn’t care who she was related to or what reasons had brought us together, I wanted her.
And I wanted her to know it.
“You don’t want some cocoa?” Sage asked, standing in front of me.
I was about to reply when the tractor hit a big bump and threw her off balance. My arms shot forward, catching her before she fell or hurt herself.
But not before she ended up in my lap.
With my hard dick wedged against her ass.
“You alright?” I asked hoarsely.
At least she was blocking everyone else from being able to see the way my eyes squeezed shut with sharp pleasure.
“Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry,” she rambled and frantically tried to scoot off of me.
Well, frantic and scoot were not good situations for my cock—not with how badly I wanted her.
White spots burst in my vision when the soft swells of her ass dragged torturously across my lap. The rest of the group, who’d paused in concern, went back to their tipsy conversations, happy to ignore us when it was clear everything was fine.
Relatively speaking.
“Don’t move.” The instruction came out more like a threat, but at least it got her to stop wiggling all over my dick. “We’re almost there.”
Sage didn’t say anything. She sat there perfectly still as though she were in just as much pain as I was. Meanwhile, I focused on the scent of her: apples and cinnamon. Warmth and spice.
The sweetest heat.
“We made it!” Rose declared a few torturous minutes later, and I dragged my attention to our surroundings, seeing that we were back on the Walker family farm.
“I’m so sorry.” I heard her repeat when the tractor came to a stop. Bolting upright, she faced me. “Are you okay? I wasn’t expecting—”
“Fine,” I said, my voice strained. “I just need a minute.”
She paused as everyone began to file out of the wagon once more.
“You don’t sound—”
“Sage.” I speared my hand through my hair, turning to her so that my back was to everyone else even though they were off the wagon and heading toward the house.
I waited until even Ronnie had climbed down from the driver’s seat of the tractor before saying anything.
“Did I hurt you?” She bit her lower lip. “I’m sorry. I know I’m not the lightest—”
“Goddammit.” I swore, needing to silence a thought I never wanted to hear spoken. Taking her face in my hands, I crushed my lips to hers.
Oh, Luke. You dumb, dumb motherfucker.
Sage’s lips were softer and sweeter than I could’ve imagined. And when they parted in surprise, I couldn’t hold back my tongue from sliding into her warmth.
A low inarticulate noise bubbled from my chest. She tasted like my very own ripened Pink Lady, crisp and sweet with just enough tart to make her intoxicating.
She was hesitant at first, and I thought it might be from shock. But when she didn’t push me away—when she continued to let me kiss her, my tongue demanding she kiss me back—I realized the truth: she couldn’t believe I was kissing her because she couldn’t believe I wanted her.
Good thing I was more than hungry to prove it to her.
I dragged my tongue through every corner of her mouth, licking and stroking along the length of her tongue.
“You’re perfect, Sage,” I rasped, feeling the catch of her breath just before my mouth claimed hers again.
Her body tipped into mine, and her arms twined around my neck for support that I was all too happy to give.
I groaned, sliding my hands back into her hair, dislodging her headband as I angled her head to devour her mouth with a kind of urgency I’d never felt before.
Vaguely, I knew I’d kissed other women. I certainly had the reputation to prove it. But nothing could compare to this—to kissing Sage.
Our tongues tumbled together, and I knew the heat surging through my veins was making her burn, too. She shivered in my arms and then pressed closer—pressed her gorgeous tits against my chest—and it took everything in me not to lay her down on the bales of hay and show her just how savagely I wanted her.
She moaned, the soft sound spiraling right to the tip of my dick, making me painfully hard.
The angry pulse of my cock jamming against my jeans should’ve been an instant indication that I should stop—pull back.
But I wanted more.
More of her kiss. More of her smile. More of her fearless individualism that just begged for the right man to worship it. And god, did I want more of the warm, luscious body that was pressed to mine.
So, I savored every inch of her lips because I didn’t know if I’d ever get another chance with my dream woman.
“Is the free peep show part of the planned activities?” Having a bucket of ice water dumped over us would’ve been less painful than hearing that fucker’s voice. “I mean, you always were a little exhibitionist…”
Sage let out a choked sound and practically jumped away from me. Her head whipped to Sean who stood several feet away watching us, and then looked back to me, repeating the motion once more before touching her lips like my kiss had left them haunted.
I didn’t need much lighting at all to see how red her cheeks were, and I hated this fucker for ruining the moment.
“I can see why it’s hard for you to get some action, Sean, but unfortunately, this is a private event,” I said, refusing to turn my body away from the trembling woman in front of me. “You’re welcome to join everyone else inside.”
Welcome was a bit of a stretch, but I wanted it to be abundantly clear that he was unwelcome out here.
His low chuckle seemed to lower the ambient temperature a degree or two. “Well, it’s nice to know some things about you haven’t changed, muffin.”
She flinched and then replaced the armor I hated to see her wear.
I wanted to step in front of Sage and block her from his view, but I knew that was overstepping. She’d made it clear she didn’t want my chivalry when it came to her ex, but that didn’t make it any easier to stop myself from giving it.
“Well, it’s nice to know you’re still just as shitty at getting face paint off,” she replied saucily, though I could hear the slight quiver in her voice because I was standing so close.
Whatever that meant, it soured his smirk.
“Maybe someone inside might be able to help you get that shit off your face,” I suggested with a grin, willing to say anything to make him go away so Sage and I could talk about what just happened.
And hopefully how it could happen again.
With a loathing expression and a muttered curse about how he got it all off, Sean turned and stalked toward the house.
But even once Sean was inside, Sage didn’t look any calmer. If anything, she appeared even more frazzled.
“Sage, about what just happened,” I broke the silence.
Her eyes whipped to mine, growing wider. “I know what just happened,” she said matter-of-factly. “And it’s totally fine, but let’s just try to not have it happen again. I think that would be best.”
“Wait, what?” I jerked back, the difference between what she said and how she’d kissed me back giving me whiplash.
“I know why you kissed me, and it’s fine. I understand,” she went on, shuffling around me and down the stepladder.
She couldn’t understand. Hell, I was struggling to understand how I could want a woman so much.
“Sage, wait,” I growled, quickly following her, but for a woman who always wore those damn platform heels, she sure knew how to make a break for it in them.
“I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” She spun and declared, making me almost crash into her in my attempt to catch her before she went inside. “Please,” she added. “I just need to make sure Sean doesn’t say something stupid in front of Callan.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but one look at her had me shutting it just as quickly.
There were plenty of stupid things Sean could say in front of her brother—telling Callan that he’d caught Sage and me kissing wasn’t one of them.
No, there was something else driving her away from the scene of our kiss—something far more painful than dealing with her brother—and I wanted to know what it was. In fact, I was starting to realize I wanted to know a whole lot of everything about Sage Walker.
And those were very real feelings to have for a very fake girlfriend.