by Nicole Dykes
I’m panting for an entirely different reason as I move back and sit on the chair I normally sleep on, my fingers threading through my hair and threatening to pull the strands from my head.
I’m such a fucking freak.
She looks terrified as she walks over to me about to place her hands on my shoulders, but I yank back. “Don’t.”
She nods. “Okay.”
“It’s not you, Blair. You’re gorgeous.” I look up at her naked body, my eyes drifting over all her tan, smooth skin. “I want to fuck you. I want to so fucking badly, but my mind . . .”
“Shhh.” She doesn’t touch me now, but her eyes have me locked in a hold as she peers down at me, cowering on the chair. “I want you to fuck me too.” Her hand slides over her flat stomach. “That kiss was so fucking hot.”
I watch her hand as it dips lower and look up at her, raising an eyebrow. “What are you doing?”
“We’re married now, Rhys. For better and worse and all that. We’re going to have to figure out how to have sex.”
I’m irrationally angry now, which of course turns me into an asshole. “If you need it that fucking bad, I’m sure you can find a dick to ride.”
She looks at me, burying the hurt and trudging forward because that’s Blair. “I don’t want just any dick.” Her eyes move to my lap where my cock is still up and ready, even if my mind is fucked. “I want yours. My husband’s. On our wedding night.”
It isn’t just about sex. I can see it in her eyes. She needs this. She wants to heal me even if I don’t deserve it. Even if she’ll fail. And she will fail.
“I had a panic attack from a kiss.” My heart is still beating far too fast in my chest.
“So, we’ll work into this slowly.” She turns away from me, but she doesn’t move. “Do you want me, Rhys?”
She can’t see me, but I nod my head. My voice is strained with anxiety and desire. “Yes.”
She moves to sit on my lap, facing away from me. “So, baby steps. If it’s too much, we stop. No matter what we’re doing, but sex is supposed to feel good. And you should want it. If you don’t have both parts of the equation, then it’s not sex. It’s betrayal. It’s abuse. It’s rape.”
I flinch at her words, but I know she’s right. And holy fuck, do I want this as she guides my cock between her legs and I slide inside of her. “You’ll get tired of this, Blair.” I whisper in her ear and feel her body shudder as she moves her hips, guiding my cock further into her.
“How could I tire of this?”
I let my hands travel forward and cup her bare breasts, pinching her nipples and letting myself enjoy her moans.
“I may never be able to kiss you again.”
She’s panting as she rides me reverse cowgirl style, and I squeeze her tits in my hands. “You will. It was too good not to do it again.”
“Right. When I freaked out.”
Her head leans back into my chest as she uses her hands as leverage against the chair, riding me and bringing us both toward release.
“I’m not afraid of you, Rhys. I want every part of you.”
I try to tell myself she’s lost in ecstasy, but I know she means it. One of my hands dips lower, finding her clit and making slow circles coaxing her orgasm from her.
“Rhys,” she moans my name, and I close my eyes, breathing her in, reminding me exactly who I'm fucking.
“You’re in trouble, Blair. I’ll crush you.”
“Or I’ll heal you.”
I hope she’s right. I want her to be right so fucking badly.
“I’m damaged beyond repair.”
“Come with me, Rhys.” Her voice is higher as she approaches her orgasm, and I feel the rush bubbling up through my entire body as I rub her clit and hold her breast with my other hand, pulling her back against my chest, wanting to feel her. “If we break, we’ll do it together, and then we’ll pick up the pieces.”
I moan near her ear, and she rocks against me, coming around my cock as I come deep inside her, allowing one moment of freedom from everything else.
But an overwhelming fear washes over me once it’s over because what if it never happens like this again?
I’m naked and laying flat on my back on the king-sized bed. I should have moved to the chair I've been sleeping on hours ago because I’ve slept maybe a couple of hours all night, scrunched to the edge of the bed, nearly falling off.
Because I’m incredibly fucked-up. After we both finished with Blair on my lap last night, she asked me to come to bed. And after my wife—paper or not—my legal wife, told me she wouldn’t touch me while we slept, I reluctantly agreed.
And now, she’s naked and asleep on her side of the bed. She put a line of fluffy pillows between us to assure me that we wouldn’t touch.
I swivel my head to look over at her across the pillow barrier. The covers are pulled over most of her body, but I can see the hint of her right nipple peeking out. God, she’s beautiful.
She’s everything I don’t deserve.
I’ve done so many fucked-up things in my short life. I’m certain I’ll do more. And to top it all off, a normal man would be all over her naked body this morning after seeing she’s still naked from last night. But me?
I’m trying to keep my breathing under control because last night was a lot to handle, telling her my secrets, kissing her, wanting so badly to let her touch me.
The few times I briefly slept last night were full of hellish memories, and I’m so fucking pissed-off about everything. Angry when I should feel fully satisfied.
I look away from Blair’s sleeping body, feeling the shame from trapping her with a damaged man.
“Um . . . Rhys?”
Oh shit. I pull the covers up higher, well above my waist as Bree walks into our bedroom hesitantly. Blair must hear her too, and she sits up, thankfully pulling the covers up to her chin.
“What’s up, Bree?” I try to keep my voice casual, but of course, it’s not.
She’s looking up at the ceiling and not at us, thank God. “Is someone going to take me to school?”
I glance over at the clock. “Shit. Yeah. I’ll be down in a minute.”
She nods and then leaves the room. I jump out of the bed, but Blair is laughing now as she lets the sheet drop, almost making me groan at the site of her naked chest. “Well, I think we’re officially parents. Our kid just walked in on us post-fuck.”
I tug on a pair of jeans and try to pry my eyes off her. “We’re a good eight hours post-fuck.”
She nods her head and then raises her hands in the air, using the tie around her wrist to secure her hair in a ponytail, but my eyes are on her raised tits. What the hell is wrong with me?
I just had sex last night, and now I want her again? Why am I this desperate to possibly humiliate myself with another panic attack?
I pull a shirt on over my head. “I’ll see ya tonight.”
“Wait.”
I look over at her, hoping she doesn’t want to talk anymore about the shit that went down with the Bradfords because I’m barely hanging on by a thread as it is. “What?”
“Do you want me to grab you a ring when I get mine today?”
A ring? “A wedding ring?”
She rolls her eyes as she climbs out of the bed, slipping into a robe she doesn’t tie. “Yes. We’re married, remember?”
“I thought it was just for show.” I’m a prick. I know that by the slight pout on her lips.
“Yeah it is.” She fastens the silky tie across her waist and takes a seat on the bed. “But don’t you think we should show them wedding bands.”
She’s thought of everything, and I’m, of course, just being a dick. She’s showing her sweet side that I actually like because it still has her spin on it, but I’ll always be a surly motherfucker. “I’ll get your ring, okay?”
Her right eyebrow shoots up. “You will?”
“Yeah, I will. It won’t be anything like you would have probably expected, but I'll get you a ring.”
<
br /> She rolls her eyes and lies back on the bed, making the already short robe ride up her thighs. “First of all, fuck you,” she laughs and turns her head toward me. “Second of all, I can’t wait.”
“Good.” I look nervously out the door and then back to Blair. “I’m going to approach the whole private school thing with her.”
She sits up again, looking confused. “What private school thing?”
“Blair, we have to look good on paper, remember? The Herringtons could and would give her the best education. If we are going toe-to-toe with them, we need to be ready.”
She’s thinking it over, and I can tell she’s as worried as I feel about it because Bree isn’t going to like it. “She’s going to be pissed.”
I nod, already knowing that. “I know she will, but we have to do everything we can to keep her safe, right?”
“Yes.” She says it with a definitive tone, and I have to admit I love the mama bear side of her.
Normal husband—kisses his gorgeous, sexy wife goodbye.
Rhys—grunts a goodbye and leaves.
When I get downstairs, Bree is waiting by the door. “I’m going to be late.”
I grab my keys from the side table. “Then let’s go.”
She follows me out to the car, and we’re both quiet as usual. As we approach the school, I've finally talked myself into talking to her about private school. “Bree, I have to talk to you about something . . .”
“I’m sorry. I should have knocked harder.”
She knocked? Fuck, I must have been more out of it than I thought. “No. Not that. We should have locked the door before we . . .” She looks horrified, and I finally shut the fuck up. “Sorry.” I shake it off. “No. I need to talk to you about private school.”
Her gaze darkens as it meets mine in the rearview, and we creep ahead in the school’s drop-off line. “What about private school?”
Just say it, Rhys. “I think we might need to enroll you in one.”
“What?” She’s panicked. “No. I don’t want to go to private school. I like my school.”
I nod toward the front entrance. “They have metal detectors at the door.”
“They’re keeping us safe.” She folds her small arms over her chest and glares. “I don’t want to go to a private school. My friends are here.”
“I know.”
“They were going to make me go to a fancy private school, Rhys. You aren’t them.”
I cringe, thinking about any sort of comparison between me and that motherfucker, Mr. Herrington. “I’m not, but that’s the point. He can tell the judge that he can give you everything I can’t.”
I hate that I can see tears glistening in her eyes from here. I’m a total asshole for doing this to her before school, and I contemplate getting out of line and taking her for ice cream or some shit.
“I don’t care about that kind of stuff.”
“I know you don’t, Bree.” I grip the steering wheel, feeling nothing but tension. “I don’t either, but the judge will. We have to do whatever we can so Blair and I look like the better parents.”
She shakes her head, anger and sadness mixing as she looks at me when I park the car as the next one to drop off a student. “Don’t do this to me.”
Fuck, my heart actually hurts. “I’m sorry.”
She shoves the door open and climbs out, slamming the door, not saying another word to me. And, of fucking course, both of the little punks she hangs out with are instantly on it, already knowing she’s pissed about something as she approaches them.
I don’t want to leave her, but I follow the line out and go to work.
I’m doing fucking great at this parenting thing already.
I tug open the glass door of Rhys’s shop and see him sitting behind the front desk, his feet propped up. “So, this is what you do all day?”
He drops his feet to the floor. “Mostly.”
I don’t believe him, but I do like giving him a hard time. I didn’t want him to leave this morning and feel slightly pathetic, knowing the reason I'm here can wait until tonight, but I wanted to see him.
“Shouldn’t you be at work?”
I shrug my shoulders and walk behind the desk. “I’m tired of work. I thought we could play.” I give him the naughtiest of smiles and wag my eyebrows, being over-the-top ridiculous, but I see the fear in his eyes.
“Blair . . .”
I knock off the shit and shake my head. “I’m kidding.”
He doesn’t look like he believes me. “I know that last night we—”
“Had sex. Hot sex.” I finish for him. “And it wasn’t the first time.”
I watch him swallow hard as his eyes land on mine, looking so fucking tortured and tired. “I know, but . . . the kiss and everything.”
“I know, Rhys.” I don’t want him to be hurting because I forced him to talk. “I was just fucking around.”
“I know, but also you aren’t, right? And you deserve a normal guy who can fuck you whenever you want it and can kiss you goodbye.”
I can’t stand him thinking I deserve anything other than him. “Rhys . . .” I move to only a couple of inches away from him. “You aren’t getting rid of me, so there will be no goodbyes and,” the intensity in his gaze nearly sets me on fire, but I keep pushing, “we will kiss again.”
I want to touch him, stroke his cheek, but I don’t. He’s feeling vulnerable today. “And if I can’t?”
“You can. You will. When you want to, you have my permission to kiss the fuck out of me.”
That pulls his lips into a smirk that melts my heart. I thought was made of ice. “I will.”
It’s firm, and I like it. “I’m not actually here to fuck you.”
“No?”
I shake my head. “Nope. I called Bree’s twat caseworker today to talk about the private school thing.”
“And?”
“And we can send her to a private school as long as we pay for it.” I leave out the part about her giving me attitude, but it’s not important.
“How much is it?” He looks worried, and I know the worry is only going to grow.
“I called today, and it’ll be about twenty grand.” His eyes bulge, but I try my best to downplay it. “And even though it already started, as long as we pay in full, they’ll let her start in a week.”
“Twenty grand?”
“I have it covered.”
“No,” he growls, pushing his fingers through his hair, and I know he’s worked up. “It was my idea, all of it.”
“Stop.” I know I'm a spoiled brat, and the only money I have is because of my father, but I want him to understand I'm in this with him. “Rhys, I want to. Bree isn’t just your responsibility.” I hold up a hand to silence the argument I already knew was coming. “No matter what I said at the beginning. I’m in this. We’re adopting her, and I have a trust fund just sitting there. We have a meeting with the school tomorrow.”
“What? That fast?”
“The sooner the better.” I sigh. “The caseworker also let me know we have seventy-two days until the hearing. So, it’s even less than the three months Gillian thought. We need to get moving.”
Yup, he’s even more stressed now. The muscles in his arm are flexed tight as he messes with his hair, and I want to drop to my knees and try my best to relieve some tension, but I know, with Rhys, that would only add to it.
I have to rewire my way of thinking to navigate around what those abusive fuckers did to him, but for him, I'm more than happy to do it.
“She was so pissed-off this morning, slammed the car door and everything.”
I almost laugh. I knew she was going to give him hell. “Yeah well, we’re about to adopt a kid that’s almost a teenage girl. You might as well get used to that right now.”
He looks so sad. “She almost cried when I told her, Blair. She doesn’t cry.”
I know she’s going to be upset, and I hate the idea of her crying. She’s a little Rhys. “I know, but we hav
e to go for it, like you said. Make ourselves look as good as we can, and then once she’s ours, we’ll make it right.”
“She’s going to hate us.”
“She’ll be okay.” I look down at his lap, unable to help myself and then back to his mouth, that sexy, ever present pout, and bite my bottom lip. “Okay, so now back to the fucking.”
“Blair.” It’s a warning growl that I ignore.
“I can’t stop thinking about last night and your lips. God, I love your lips, so sexy and full. Kind of like kissing a girl.”
“I’m not sure that’s a compliment.”
I shrug my shoulders. “It was hot.”
“I can’t . . .” He’s choked up, and I almost lose my confidence because the last thing I want is to cause him pain.
“Relax. I meant what I said . . . the next kiss is on you, when you want it. I’m not going to kiss you, Rhys.” I turn my back to him and sit on his lap, straddling him as I face away. “But I am going to fuck you.”
I start to grind over his lap and feel him stirring beneath me as I smile with satisfaction. “Blair, this is my shop.”
“Which makes it so much hotter.” I take hold of his hand, noticing his instant recoil, but I don’t let him jerk away from me. Instead I move his hand under my skirt. There’s a large glass window and a glass door at the front, not shielding us, but the desk does a good job of hiding what’s going on under the waist.
“I’m already wet for you.”
His groan sends satisfaction through me as his fingers slide through my folds, and I shamelessly grind against his hand. “Fuck, Blair. You aren’t wearing panties.”
“Why would I? I knew I was coming to see you.”
His moan behind me only makes me hotter. I release his hand, leaving him under my skirt while he finds my clit, pulling a gasp from me before I find the button and zipper of his jeans. It’s an awkward angle, but I manage, already feeling how hard he is for me.
“Fuck me, Rhys.”
He doesn’t fight me, just removes his hand from my skirt before using one arm to hold me around my waist while lifting us both up and forcing his jeans down to free himself. I waste no time moving back, spreading my legs and taking him inside me as I lean my front against the desk. “God, Rhys . . .”
