So Wrong
So Wrong
A Wright Brothers Romance
Camilla Stevens
Contents
About the Author
Also by Camilla Stevens
Introduction
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Epilogue
Bonus Content
Slugger Fever
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
About the Author
About the Author
Camilla Stevens is a New York transplant from Los Angeles. At night you can find her typing away, usually with a glass of wine, getting all the steamy, humorous, Happily Ever After stories out of her head and down on the page. You can usually find tulips, her favorite flower, making an appearance in most of her novels.
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Copyright © 2017 by Camilla Stevens
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Also by Camilla Stevens
NEW YORK NOVELS
Mr. Wright & Mr. Wrong
Mr. & Mrs. Wright
CALIFORNIA NOVELS
One Night
Sweet Seduction
Introduction
This book is a Stand Alone spin-off novel about River Wright who makes a brief debut in the Wright Brother’s Series:
Mr. Wright & Mr. Wrong
Mr. & Mrs. Wright
Although this book is meant to be read alone, you will get very brief glimpses into the lives of characters from the above books.
1
She’s gorgeous.
River Wright stopped in his tracks as he saw the girl at the end of the aisle looking at a stapled set of papers with a wrinkle in her brow.
What made him first take notice was the dress she wore. In a sea of yoga pants and booty shorts with “Juicy” or “Pink” splashed across the ass, which seemed to be the unofficial uniform of your average coed, she had on a sleeveless, knee-length dress. The dress was white with blue flowers and feminine to the point of being old fashioned, complete with a skirt that looked perfect for twirling. It even had a damn bow tied around the back, which he noticed when she turned to pluck a book off the shelf and stick it in the basket she was holding.
The dress was what had caught his attention. The body that it covered is what kept it. River’s eyes wandered down her amazing curves, swerving in and out like a perfect S.
Tiffany Brookstone bumped into his broad back. It was an annoying reminder that she had joined him on this little venture.
“What are you doing?” she asked in an irritated voice, too drunk to notice that his attention wasn’t on her.
His focus stayed on the girl as she tucked a thick strand of hair behind her ear where one arm of her glasses rested.
Glasses.
Normally not a look guys went for, but on her it was like the smile on the Mona Lisa: intriguing. As far as River was concerned, it was the very thing that made her appealing, highlighting her beauty rather than detracting from it.
River’s eyes were drawn down to her full lips as she placed one finger tip on her tongue and brought it down to turn a page of the stapled sheets she had in her hand.
It was the most erotic thing he had ever seen. He felt his dick twitch as he thought of how he would give anything to have any part of his body switch places with that finger.
The girl had the natural coloring that many of his friends at Pierre University had no doubt tried hard all summer to achieve during their time spent on various Mediterranean or Caribbean beaches. It was a flawlessly smooth hazelnut brown, that instantly made him wonder if she herself had any tan lines underneath that dress hugging her body so admirably.
“Um, are we going to stand here all night?” Tiffany asked into his back. She wrapped her arms around his waist and giggled. “‘Cause I can think of more enjoyable ways to spend the evening.”
That was the exact moment the girl looked up at both of them.
Of course it was.
One raised eyebrow, then she was back to her papers, looking back and forth between them and the shelves in front of her.
Dammit, Tiffany.
“Hey,” he said to Tiffany behind him, disengaging her arms from around him. “Why don’t you go pick out a t-shirt or something? A present for tagging along with me tonight.”
Tiffany sighed and without even looking, he knew she was rolling her eyes. “Why would I want a t-shirt from this stupid university?” she asked.
“Because you actually go here,” he said in an irritated tone. She gave another sigh and ventured off, leaving River free to make his move on the girl as she collected books from the shelf in front of her.
River sauntered down the aisle, plastering that cocky grin on his face that he had long ago discovered girls liked. He was glad he had avoided using any of the baskets in the bookstore as he collected the load of books currently in his arms. Something about carrying one around had toyed with his ideas of manliness that, in the back of his mind, he knew was textbook machismo. All the same, he was semi-cognizant of the way his biceps and delts instinctively flexed as he carried the heavy load through the aisle on his way over to her.
Right now she was reaching up to try and grab a book from the top shelf and River stopped to watch, his grin getting wider as he looked at her from behind.
Hello, sweetheart.
She stuck the toe of her shoe on the bottom shelf to give herself a few inches, which made her smooth brown calves more pronounced. The heel of her foot slipped out of the flat she had on. It somehow made the scene even more erotic, the arch of her foot only adding to the wealth of curves she had to offer. Her ass became more round and taut now that her body was stretched out. The cherry on top of this visual ice cream sundae was the extra hint of back thigh that was revealed as the hem of her skirt rose ever so slightly.
Just a little bit higher please.
It would have been a sin not to help the poor girl out. River grinned as he hefted his stack of books under one arm, holding it up against his hip. He came up right behind her, pressing his body lightly against hers as he reached above her to grab the boo
k that she was obviously going for. She had an intoxicating smell…peaches? coconut? Some alluring mix of the two.
“Wha—?” A surprised yelp escaped her lips.
She twisted around under him with indignant squeak. Gorgeous brown eyes blinked up at him over the edge of her glasses that were falling down her round little nose. The thick lashes fluttered for a second as she took him in, then the frown appeared. She pushed him away.
He hadn’t anticipated that and fell back two steps with a laugh, easily catching his balance. Then he held the book out to her.
“Here you go,” he said, plastering on that grin again.
She made an irritated grab for it, but before she could reach it, he lifted it well above her head. She was probably only five-foot-five or -six, which gave him at least an eight-inch advantage.
“How about a name first?” he teased.
The irritation turned to anger. “How about you just give me the book?”
“Oh,” he pouted, “and after I went to the trouble of being a Good Samaritan.”
“Good Samaritan?” she said with a sharp laugh. “I don’t recall the part of the Bible where the Samaritan presses his body up against the back of the helpless traveler.”
River chuckled. “Well, if you want to start getting into discussions of a biblical nature,” his grin deepened, “I’m more than happy—”
“How does your girlfriend feel about you playing the Good Samaritan like this?” she interrupted with a raised eyebrow. He didn’t miss the sarcastic emphasis on the word “Good.”
“She’s—”
“Here you go, babe!” Tiffany shouted as her arms came around him, one holding out a purple Pierre University women’s baby t-shirt. He saw Bonita’s eyebrows go up in affirmation at the word “babe.”
The arm he was using to holding the book over the girl’s head faltered and sagged just enough for the girl to jump up and grab it out of his hand.
“Yoink!” she actually yelped, which he found absurdly comical. Then she back-walked away from him with a grin.
“Thanks, babe,” she taunted, then pushed her glasses up her nose with one finger—one very deliberately chosen finger. With that, she spun around causing the skirt of her dress to twirl just the way he imagined it would.
Tiffany gasped behind him. “Did that girl just give you the middle finger?” she asked, outraged. “She has some nerve.”
“She certainly does,” River said, mostly to himself as he smiled.
He was done with his own shopping and considered following the girl. First though, he had to deal with the one drunkenly attached to his waist.
“Hey, I think I saw some Vogue Magazines up front. Why don’t you go wait for me there?” Before she could argue, River spun Tiffany around leading her in that direction. He watched to make sure that she actually made it there without face-planting it on the floor, then rushed to get in line behind the girl in the blue and white dress.
Boys don’t make passes at girls with glasses.
“Or so they say,” Bonita Jackson muttered to herself as she adjusted hers while she stood in line at the front of the university bookstore.
That last bit with the finger had been bad. So bad. Where had that even come from? Already Pierre University was having a bad influence on her. The old Bonita would have never even fathomed such a lewd gesture.
She wondered what her father, the good Reverend Maurice Jackson, would have to say about it, and on a Sunday of all days. A twinge of shame hit her. Then she brushed it away. The whole point of moving up here was to get away from her parents and maybe be a bit bad.
Mission accomplished, Bonita.
“Or so who says?” she heard a voice behind her inquire.
She blinked and looked back. It was him, minus the girlfriend, who Bonita suspected was a wee bit under the influence.
“Are you following me?”
He held up the books in his arm. “Last minute text book shopping, like yourself. Speaking of which, are you a new student here? I haven’t seen you around, and I definitely would have noticed someone like you.” He grinned down at her.
“Transfer student,” she said curtly, then turned to face the counter.
Fortunately, she was called next, which eliminated any further interrogation, or flirting.
Unfortunately, the cashier right next to hers opened up, which put him right back by her side. The sudden tingle she’d felt when his body had pressed against her backside in the stacks returned. It was horrible to have those kinds of thoughts about a boy who was obviously already taken. Thankfully, his crass attitude kept it in check.
She could feel his eyes on her as she waited for her books to be rung up. The only reason she was here so late at night, and the day before classes to boot, was because Reverend Howard had kept her so late after church, then invited her to dinner with his family. She couldn’t very well have said no. Her parents would have been appalled. Now, still in her church clothes, she looked like an exceptionally tan Audrey Hepburn amid a sea of Paris Hiltons.
Way to fit in, Bonita.
On top of that, the money from her college fund had taken a long time to transfer. Too long. She’d have to ask her parents about that when she got a chance. Why they wouldn’t just let her have control of it was beyond her. She was 20 years old, what did they think she would do with it all, blow it at the racetrack?
“Will there be anything else?” she heard the cashier next to hers ask the boy. His clerk was obviously more efficient at handling the scanner than hers, who had to take three tries just to get each book to go through. As if the night hadn’t been long enough already.
Bonita made the mistake of glancing his way and found the boy looking at her with a grin. “Why not?” he said, grabbing a few pens in the Pierre University colors of purple and gold and placing them on top of the pile. “I’m suddenly feeling rather…tumescent with school pride.”
Bonita rolled her eyes at that. She reached into her purse to pull out her bank card now that her cashier was finally down to the last book. She held it in her hand, willing the scanner to just work so she could leave already. She was so focused on the scanner she didn’t notice the boy’s head lean over to read the name on her card
“Bo-nee-ta Jackson,” she heard his voice say over her shoulder. “Beautiful. I like it; it suits you.”
She brought her card into her chest and turned to him with an annoyed sigh. “It looks like someone needs to brush up on their Spanish 1. Bonita actually means—”
“Pretty. I know,” he grinned. “It just seemed so inadequate. Beautiful suits you better.”
“That will be $547. 67,” his cashier said.
He kept his smile on Bonita as he pulled out a black credit card and placed it on the counter.
The cashier picked it up and handed it back to him. “Sorry Mr. Wright, we don’t take American Express; Visa or MasterCard only.”
There was a slight grimace when the cashier said his name. He sighed and flipped through his wallet to pull out a platinum card instead.
Her own cashier finally managed to scan the last book. $489.57. Good grief, Pierre University was going to kill her with the amount she had to fork over. Thank heavens she had a college fund.
“Well, it was very nice to meet you, Pretty.” Bonita felt it more than she heard it, as Mr. Wright whispered the words across her right ear, then walked away.
Despite herself, a shiver of electricity shot straight through her.
2
“Tumescent with school pride,” Bonita muttered to herself with contempt as she lugged her bags back to her dorm room. Then she gave a small laugh. It was creative, she’d give him that. He wasn’t half bad to look at either.
In any typical romance novel, a guilty pleasure that Bonita indulged in mostly to counter the G-rated upbringing she had been smothered by, River Wright would be the typical hero prototype.
Over six feet? Check.
Full head of dark hair? Check.
Obvi
ous muscles? Check.
Strong jaw? Check.
He even had that stupid cleft chin.
And the eyes. Those eyes. The kind of green a girl could drown in…before coming up for air when she finally came to her senses.
On the other hand, men in romance novels didn’t cheat, especially so blatantly! Flirting with Bonita right in front of his girlfriend? And in such a completely uninspired manner. How much lower could a guy get?
She made it back to her room and saw the pink scarf on the dorm room door.
Really?
It was a rule established the first day Bonita had been introduced to her roommate, Stacey. Actually it was a rule imposed on Bonita by her roommate. After all, Stacey was the only one of the two who had a relationship, a fairly vigorous one, with her longtime boyfriend, Bobby.
As per the rule, Bonita knocked, giving them ten minutes to go from foreplay straight to orgasm. Do not pass Go. Do not collect $200. On the other side of the door, she heard a surprised yelp, then some frustrated rustling, and finally an exasperated sigh.
Bonita smiled. Surprise, surprise, sunshine!
Despite being a pastor’s daughter, Bonita wasn’t a prude. She knew what people got up to in college dorm rooms, even if she hadn’t yet done so herself. Of course it was hard to do when you lived a hop, skip, and a jump away from your parents, and a fair number of your classmates attended your father’s church.
That was part of the reason she’d insisted on transferring. Howard University had been great, but suffocatingly incestuous. Here she could be anonymous, start over, spread her wings. Live!
Right now she just wanted to sleep.
She sighed and looked at her watch. As the back of her head fell against the wall beside the door to room 147, she remembered that her mother was owed a phone call. Bonita reached into her tote bag, seeking out her phone to give her mother the promised 30 minutes every Sunday.