CHAPTER FOURTEEN

ADDIE

––––––––

It's not exactly outrage in Oz's face when we follow him into the black and gold office. If I have to put a name to his pursed lips and furrowed brows — resignation. Maybe annoyance. But anything is better than disappointment.

The room with the black walls and enormous, black desk is too silent considering the four people occupying the space.

We claim opposite sides of the glass coffee table, grouping on the leather sofas facing each other.

Mom is still rubbing her hand. I'm not at all surprised since that was the first time she's ever struck another person. Paloma Delgado considers violence distasteful and unnecessary when words are more effective. Watching her slap Iris was a thing of beauty. I'm so proud of her.

"All right you two, talk."

Rhys and I exchange glances. He's still holding my hand, his fingers intertwined with mine in his lap.

"We were waiting until tomorrow to have this conversation," Rhys says at last. "We didn't want ... this."

"How long?" Dad demands.

"Two years," I whisper as Rhys says, "Nine months."

Both our parents raise an eyebrow.

"Not long," I correct, deciding to keep things as simple as possible. "We only just made this official."

"Two years?" Mom cut in. "How...?"

I dart a glance up at Rhys before murmuring, "Rhys is ... was Atticus."

"The masked weirdo?" Oz barks.

"Not a weirdo, but yes," Rhys grumbles.

"How did this even happen?" Mom cries, waving between us.

"That is a very long, very complicated story." I force myself to take a breath. "And it's not important. What is important is that we haven't done anything ... too disrespectful under this roof."

What I had hoped would be assuring only seems to upset the two. Their exchanged glances were panicked with a tinge of horror like either they hadn't thought of that or they were trying to figure out what that meant.

"I love her," Rhys says before anyone can utter another word. "None of this was intentional. I had no idea I would wake up one morning, look up and realize the person who makes me feel whole is the same person I've been living with. It surprised me too, even more so when she returned my feelings."

I rub the back of his hand gently, lungs too tight for words as he voices everything in my head.

"We get this isn't conventional. We know it's going to be hard for a lot of people to understand and accept, but ... I've asked Addie to marry me."

Mom cries out. Her hands fly up to her mouth, her face torn between excitement and uncertainty as her green eyes lock with mine. It's taking all my resolve not to jump up and run to her. To not let her pull me into her arms and share my happiness the way I know we both want to.

"We were going to wait until after your party to talk. To explain," Rhys continues in his calm, even tone. "We want your blessing. It might seem like a big ask right now, but you're both two of the most important people in our lives and we don't want to lose you."

The copper tang of blood is filling my mouth from the gash I'm cutting into my bottom lip. I barely notice as I watch my parents exchange glances, their expressions so guarded. So set. Even with the tears glistening in Mom's eyes, her features are a mask I can't read.

Please, please don't let me lose them, I beg the heavens. It would destroy me. I know I wouldn't survive it. I can already feel the brewing bubble of devastation creeping up my chest.

Rhys brings my hand to his lips. He kisses the back gently and I realize I'm crushing his fingers, but I can't unlock my joints.

Finally, after eons of suffering, Mom and Oz face us. They seem to take a unifying breath that steals every drop of air in the room, leaving my lungs burning while I wait for them to rip my world apart.

"We guessed something was going on when you went off into the woods in the middle of the night and didn't come back until dawn," Oz says at long last. "If that hadn't been hint enough, neither of you are very good at being subtle. You arriving together. Rhys asking for the land to build a house. The murder trial I thought I would need to put together to defend you once you murdered Michael with your steak knife. Not to mention, I could have grilled last night's BBQ off the heat you two were giving off since you arrived." I would have died of mortification right there if he wasn't still talking. "But you're right, this is not conventional. People will disapprove and will have a lot to say on the matter. You grew up together. That alone will have people speculating." He turns his dark eyes to Mom. She meets his gaze and gives a slight nod. "But fuck people. I make a living pissing people off anyway. If they don't like it, they can take a long walk off a short bridge."

I understand everything he's saying. The words are clear and concise, but a pulse of panic is pounding between my ears, and I can't process it until Mom is pushing to her feet, arms open.

I am tearing off the sofa with a sob and slamming my body into hers. My arms clamp hard around her solid warmth, sucking in her sweet scent of orchids. Her hold loops around me tight enough to cut off my oxygen even while I'm already struggling to contain my relief.

"I was so scared," I choke out into her shoulder.

She shushes me gently, hands stroking my back and hair. She kisses my wet cheeks and holds me until Oz moves to take her place.

He holds me tight in his strong arms. His warm breath brushing my ear. "You will always be my baby girl, Addie."

Fresh tears soak into his top and he squeezes me hard before drawing back. He smiles down into my face.

Mom swoops in the second I'm free and grabs my arm. Her expression is one of such unadulterated happiness that I feel momentarily ridiculous for ever thinking they would ever leave me.

"A wedding!" She gives a little squeak and holds me tighter. Her nails bite into the skin of my arms, but I don't care. "We have so much to do."

I watch Rhys emerge from our joint shower in a towel and miles of perfect, flawless skin. Water droplets roll off the ends of his dark locks to trail over the hard lines of his shoulders, down his chest.

God, he's delicious.

How is it possible for one person to be so gorgeous?

"You keep looking at me like that and you'll make me forget we can't fuck in your childhood bed."

After the talk in Oz's office, we had gone straight to work getting the house ready. Rhys and I shared a hurried kiss before we were pulled in opposite directions. Oz took him and Michael to help set up tables while Mom and I helped arrange the catering display. Well, I had. Mom wouldn't stop talking about venues and the best time for an outdoors wedding.

I loved that she was so excited. Loved that she was as happy as I was, but it wasn't the time. She was supposed to be concentrating on her anniversary.

When the only thing left was us getting ready, I practically broke an ankle rushing up to find Rhys. When I found him and dragged his beautiful ass into the shower, I was gifted with his slippery hands drifting over me, his mouth hungrily moving over mine, his cock hard and pulsing between my palms.

But nothing.

He hadn't fucked once since the night before in the clearing and I'm ready to climb the walls for release.

I didn't realize there is an actual reason he hasn't touched me since we arrived.

"Who made that rule?"

He shrugs. "I don't know. Didn't think it would be a good idea. We don't fuck quietly or gently."

He's not wrong, but I'm not waiting until we get home to feel him inside me.

I tug on the knot keeping my towel in place and let the fabric drop to the floor. I step over it and backwards towards the bed.

"Do you want to know what I did that night after I sucked your cock in the parlor?"

A muscle shifts in Rhys's jaw. His fingers tighten in his towel.

"Yes."

I slide up onto the mattress, keeping him in the wide V of my legs.

"I came up here with your cum on my tongue. I took off my clothes, got on this bed and I sucked my fingers—"

"Addie..."

I ignore his warning growl as I pull my ring and middle finger between my lips and sucking like I would his dick. The appendage in question rises against the fabric of his towel in appreciation.

Hiding my smirk, I pull my fingers free and trail them down to the place I need him and slip the wet digits through the folds.

I groan and lift my hips.

"Then I fingered my pussy." I press both fingers past the ring. "With your seed on them." I thrust harder and deeper, enthralled by the ravenous gleam in his eyes watching my hand. "I wasn't on the pill yet."

Rhys is on me before I can finish. His towel is torn off and chucked aside and I get a second to appreciate his gorgeous cock before his hands are on me. His fingers grab and bruise shoving my hand away to clamp down on my hips. My thighs. They're torn apart and he slams into me.

No warning. No playing around.

He drives the full length of his bulging erection into my body. The momentum burns with delicious pain that rips my back off the mattress. Metal feet carve trenches into hardwood as the sturdy oak structure of my bed heaves back. The scream of it is nowhere near the wail that leaves me.

"Quiet!" Rhys snarls, gripping my hips and dragging me down to take him. "Do you want everyone to hear you, Addie? Do you want them to hear how you beg for my cock? How you can't get enough?"

I don't care about anything, except the fat head of his cock hitting my base and sending cobwebs of excruciating agony across my belly.

"Hurts," I whimper, only to cry out when he jams himself deeper. "Rhys!"

"You're going to fucking take it, dimples."

My legs are grabbed under the knees and twisted over his arms. They're bent to my chest, and he makes me take his weight and the full length to the hilt.

"You're so deep," I choke out, head thrown back, legs flailing. My nails claw down his hips to anchor into his taut ass. "God, it hurts, Rhys."

His hips roll in slow, even circles and I shudder. I swear and bend in two as fire devours me from the core up. My toes crack on either side of his head as the pressure blinds me.

My nails claw at his shoulders, his chest, rack up his back as I cum with a scream he silences with a palm over my mouth and his lips at me ear telling me what a fucking good girl I am. How well I take his cock. How good my cunt feels begging to suck every drop of his seed from his balls.

He has such a filthy mouth and I fucking love it.

"Don't stop," I whine under the sticky skin of his palm. "More. Use me. Use my pussy. Hurt it."

He groans thickly against my jawline. "Wait until I get you home, Adeline." He doesn't thrust. He barely moves. He conquers my channel with the beast between his legs, ruining my cunt forever as he grinds. As he rubs his pelvis into my mound. My clit. "Wait until I get you in your restraints, open and helpless. Your holes mine to play with for hours, filling them until it hurts and you scream and no one comes to save you. No one. No one will ever save you from my torture. Just the way you like it."

Memories of that rainy afternoon in his apartment where he kept me bound to his bed and spent hours edging me and using me to cum in and on without a shred of relief for me has me squeezing my eyes closed and groaning loudly. My pussy shudders violently around the stone shaft rubbing my soaked walls and my tormentor snickers darkly.

"God, Rhys, I love you."

I cum whimpering I love him over and over again as he rocks and pumps and drags my release on. His cock is so hard, so swollen it has to be hurting him, but his face is a set mask of determination as he takes care of me, and it makes me tighten around him. Tease him.

"Behave," he warns.

I do it again with a mischievous little grin. "Or what?"

His eyes darken. His jaw flexes. The muscles on his arms shift as he lifts himself higher over me, dragging my legs to his shoulders.

"Or I'll make sure you don't walk properly tonight."

Oh, the threat.

I know he's serious, but ... my walls contract without my consent. A tiny flutter I don't think he feels, but his low growl is my only warning when he slams into me.

He fucks me with the violence of someone who hates me. He takes my body like it means nothing to him and I'm cumming sobbing his name. My legs twitch, my fingers claw, but he only presses me deeper into the mattress and takes what's his.

I'm weak and exhausted when he flips me over, drags me over the edge of the bed and squeezes half the bottle of lube down the crack of my ass.

I just took a shower is my only coherent thought when he takes my tender channel with the same anger. The same reckless force.

My screams are incoherent wails buried into the mattress. Even I don't understand what I'm asking of him as I cum for the fourth time.

His hands twist in my hair and my head is yanked back. Spine curving as I grind back to meet him.

"Shut your mouth, Addie," he hisses, pelvis slapping my ass cheeks. "You were warned to behave. Good girls get orgasms. Bad girls get their ass fucked."

I disagree about this being a punishment, but his free hand is cupping my mound. His fingers are at my clit. Two pinch the muscles and I'm beating back against him. I'm pounding myself on his dick and making him groan. The bed squeaks. The frame rattles. But they're nothing to me threatening him not to stop.

"Don't stop. Don't fucking stop. You feel so good in my ass. God, I love your cock. Harder!"

He shoves me face down and falls over me and I can't breathe. His weight is crushing me, suffocating me. But he's still at my clit and I am so close my thighs quiver.

"Yes. God, fuck yes! Rhys ... Rhys, I'm cumming. Harder. Fuck my ass harder, baby. Don't stop."

Rhys growls and rails me harder. "My pretty little whore. I'm going to cum in you so fucking deep you'll taste it on your tongue."

I fall off the edge of the world. My body heaves and bucks. My hole fists his cock and he roars a series of expletives that drowns my snarls to give me more.

I can't tell when he cums because my own fluids are already a hot stream running down my legs. But he's gone semi soft, and I think he's done with me.

I'm wrong when he flips me onto my back and replaces his cock with his tongue. I'm so sensitive I almost bolt away and earn a sharp smack on my inner thigh for the effort. Rhys glowers up my body at me.

"You started this. I'm going to finish it and stop only when I'm done. You are going to fucking take it."

I do because I'm his good little whore. I take everything he does to me and love every second of it, except the part an hour later when I have to get up, shower again and get ready for the party.

"Can we call in sick? I'm pretty sure you broke my pussy. That should count as a medical emergency."

Already showered and dressed in dark trousers and a white button up and looking like I want to fuck all over again, Rhys raises an eyebrow.

"Broke it?" he moves to stand where I'm still a sprawled mess with both of our multiple releases and lube drying on my thighs. He slips a finger inside me, and I groan and arch into him. "Seems to be working fine still."

Despite wanting to both sleep for a year and hit him, I laugh.

He grins and steps back, letting me roll to my feet as he sucks both our releases off his finger.

I shuffle in a stagger to the closet to unhook my dress from the back. I tuck the bag against my chest, the cold plastic sticking to my clammy skin. I turn to the man watching me with eyes he needs to avert if we're ever going to leave this room.

"I was thinking," I say instead, redirecting my thoughts and libido, "tonight, it should be all about Mom and Oz." I go to Rhys and touch the center of his chest with the flat of my palm. The cotton is warm over the firm muscles of his chest. "We should avoid drawing attention on us. What do you think?"

His dark head dips and he nuzzles a kiss to the curve of my shoulder. "It's going to be a long night but agreed."

With a final kiss that curls my toes, Rhys releases me, muttering something about checking if Oz needs help setting up.

Alone, I shower and dress in the dark green velvet gown I picked out months ago for the occasion. The off the shoulder straps dangled down my arms in soft lace while the top cinches tight at my chest and trims my waist. The straight cut neckline plumps my breasts, but nothing too wild.

I curl my hair and pin it up in a riot with stray coils dangling at my ears to tangle with the diamond chandelier earrings I hook to my ears.

With my strappy, silver heels properly fastened to my feet, I leave the room in search of my mother.

"Rhys!"

Halfway down the stairs, my head jerks up at the sound of Oz's sharp cry and a deafening bang. I pause in my descent, the hem of my skirt still twisted in my hands. My focus on my steps falter when I find myself caught in Rhys's dark, consuming eyes.

A bench with a velvet cushion sits between them, forgotten.

Rhys moves away from his father to meet me at the bottom of the steps. His large hand is extended to me.

"Run away with me."

I laugh. "Thank you, but I'm already taken," I tell him, accepting the palm anyway.

He helps me to the final step. The height brings me nearly to his level.

"Fuck him."

"Oh, I do..." I promptly cut myself off when I catch sight of Oz from over Rhy's shoulder. I clap my lips shut and poke Rhys in the belly. "You're going to get me in trouble."

He presses in closer. His warm hands curve around my waist, pulling me the rest of the way into his chest. "Oh, I plan on it." His gaze drifts down the length of me. "I thought we agreed not to draw attention."

Heat prickling my cheeks, I wrinkle my nose and nudge him back a step. "I'm going to find Mom. You stop looking at me like that."

He bites his lip around a dirty little grin. "Like what?"

Laughing, I sweep past him and meet Oz's eye who, up until that moment had been deliberately avoiding our conversation by being unrealistically intrigued by a smudge on the hallway mirror.

"Is Mom in the yard?"

He clears his throat and nods. "She is, and you do look beautiful."

I smile at him and press a kiss to his cheek. "Thank you."

I find Mom in the middle of a garden blooming with flowers and strung up with tiny lights. A hardwood dance floor expands across the yard under looping chains of roses in every color. Tables cluster the outer area draped in white cloth and displayed with ornate bowls of floating tea lights. It's breathtaking.

"This is amazing!" I gasp, reaching the woman watching the catering team arrange the food along a table near the edge of the patio.

Mom beams turning to me, but her eyes widen as she takes me in. "Oh my God, Addie! You look incredible. The pictures you sent did not do that dress justice."

I smile and brush a kiss to her cheek. "Thank you, but you're the one rocking that dress."

Mom runs a hand across the shimmering fabric making up the Grecian gown with the single shoulder strap and thick, gold belt. The cream brings out the soft tones of her face and compliments the bands securing her dark curls back.

"I think we're both dressed really nice," she decides, looping her arm through mine and guiding me around the edges of the makeshift floor. "Everything looks okay, right? I wanted simple, but cozy."

"I love it," I tell her honestly. "It's perfect."

Mom beams and squishes my arm against her. "You should use it for the wedding. Like—"

I stop and face her. "Stop that. I told you, not tonight. No talking about me or Rhys, or the wedding. Tonight is about you. Only you. Everything else can wait until tomorrow."

Still, she bites her lip and giggles like a little girl. "I am just so excited! I want to tell everyone."

"No!" I grab her arm. "Mom, no. It's your night."

She rolls her eyes. "It can be two things."

"No, it can't be. Promise me."

"Seriously?" she huffs when I narrow my eyes. "Fine. God, you're a mean child." I laugh as she takes my arm and leads me a little further. "Okay, but there is one thing I do actually have to talk to you about..." she stops to face me sheepishly.

"Okay...?"

She nervously licks her lips and lowers her voice. "I was thinking it might be best if you and Rhys relocated to the guesthouse tonight."

I stare at her for a long moment, not understanding. "Why?"

Mom purses her lips and averts her eyes to somewhere over my shoulder. "It's nothing terrible. Oz and I just feel like maybe a little privacy might be good ... for all of us."

I continue to eyeball her, certain she's intentionally being vague. "Because you don't want to see us together...?"

"No!" she grabs my hands and squeezes them between both of her warm ones. "That is not it at all. I cannot be happier that you're with Rhys. It's just..." she clears her throat. "The walls are very thin at the house and—"

It clicks and I'm not fast enough to stifle my gasp of horror. "Oh my God, Mom, I—"

Mom puts her hand up. "No, no, it's perfectly natural to want to ... practice your yoga."

"Oh my God," I moan, covering my face. "Did you guys hear...?" I cut myself off. Of course they heard. Rhys hadn't been joking when he said we weren't quiet or gentle, but had we really been that loud? I am so mortified, I want to die. "I am so sorry."

Mom gracefully waves a dismissive hand, the corner of her mouth tilted in amusement. "In the guesthouse, you and Rhys can practice yoga all you want."

I feel my brows furrow even as the heat amplifies in my cheeks. "Mom, I beg of you, please stop."

But the devil woman is smirking cruelly and going on. "From a whole floor down, it definitely sounded like you both take yoga very seriously."

"Mom!"

She blinks innocently. "What? There is nothing wrong with a healthy yoga session, Addie."

"I swear to God, stop saying yoga."

Mom shrugs innocently. "I don't think either of you need a yoga teacher—"

"I'm walking away, you twisted woman."

Her maniacal laughter follows me across the floor to the edge of the patio where I stand and watch as guests arrive in clusters. I recognize a few but no one I'm eager to meet beyond a brief greeting.

Still, the whole time, I get to witness women flock Rhys. He may as well have been the only fire source drawing all the moths to his flame. I don't like it, but Rhys is keeping a polite distance and the conversation brief. I'm telling myself I'm not the jealous type. He's mine and I don't have to worry about anything.

But why do they keep insisting on touching him? Grown ass bitches running their manicured hands over his chest like consent isn't a thing.

"Addie?"

My head snaps in the direction of the man standing at my elbow, concern painted over his handsome face.

I quickly smooth out the annoyed expression I'm sure I'm wearing and give Oz what I hope is not a psychotic smile.

"Hi."

He looks away from me to where a stunning redhead old enough to be Rhys's mother helpfully adjusts the perfectly straight row of buttons on his shirt with long, red tipped hands. Rhys offers her a kind smile and edges a step back, but the viper follows his retreat.

She raises her hand as if to touch him again and Rhys edges out of the line of her bony fingers.

Maybe I'll break snap off each one and make her eat them.

"LuAnn is harmless," Oz assures me with a hint of amusement.

I shoot him a frown. "I'm not worried."

I don't miss the tongue he rolls over his back molars at my grumble. "She has a son Rhys's age."

LuAnn laughs dramatically at something Rhys says and grabs his bicep. I don't miss her squeezing the muscles.

My muscles.

"If you're telling me she sees Rhys like her son, someone needs to check on her son."

Oz laughs and offers me his elbow. I accept because if I stand there any longer watching Rhys get manhandled, I might need bail money. So, let Oz guide me down the steps to the makeshift dance floor where a few couples are already moving to the soft hum of violins and flutes. The majority linger around the refreshment table or cluster at their assigned seats. Oz stops on the outskirts of the dancers and tugs me into his chest.

"I don't think there's a woman on earth who has the power to lure Rhys away from you. He hasn't taken his eyes off you once since you arrived. Even now."

I turn my head back over my shoulder when Oz gestures with the nod of his chin and I am immediately captured in Rhys's beautiful, infinite pools of dark desire. The love and longing in them make my cheeks warm and my heart dip. But I turn back to the man moving me expertly around the other dancers.

"He's not the one I'm worried about," I tell Oz truthfully. "They're touching things that I don't like other people touching."

Oz flashes me an amused grin. "You sound like your mother."

I feel my own lips twitch. "We're possessive."

He hums softly. "It seems to be a common trait amongst. I don't know how Brooke has managed to keep Michael from leaving after his many ... accidents this afternoon."

I have to search the yard to find the man in question. He stood by the drink table, a vivid, purple bruise shadowing his rugged jaw, a cut across his bottom lip, and a disgruntle scowl darkening his handsome face.

"What happened to him?" I ask, turning back to my stepdad.

"I trusted him alone with Rhys."

My eyes bulge. "Rhys hit him?"

Oz grimaces. "He claims Michael had a couple of accidents."

I dart another glance at the blond, but my shock is short lived when I remember his fucked up comments the night before. It's hard to feel bad for a guy who thinks manipulating you is the best way to get into your pants, especially when he thinks he could ever take Rhys's place.

"He does seem very clumsy," I decide. "He probably should have been more careful."

Oz bursts out laughing. "Why am I not surprised?"

I give him my best feigned flutter of lashes. "I don't know what you mean. If Rhys says he had an accident, he must have."

Oz merely rocks his head slowly from side to side but doesn't press. "Your mother wants to know when you will be moving back," he says instead.

My gaze shifts to where Rhys stands alone. Our eyes meet, triggering a whole galaxy of butterflies in my belly.

"As soon as we pack up our apartments." I decide. I face Oz once more. "I know Mom wants us back, but do you?"

"Addie, if it were up to me, you would already be here where you belong. You and Rhys, this is your home. You can live in the main house, the guesthouse or build your own place. I don't care as long as you're both here."

I nibble my bottom lip as I chew over my next words. "Are you really okay with me and Rhys being together?"

He brushes a strand of hair off my cheek lightly. Eyes so much like Rhys's search mine carefully.

"This isn't what I expected from either of you. I also can't see it any other way. The situation is a delicate one and it will take time to adjust to the change, but..." He stops moving to peer down at me with steady focus. "There is no man I trust more with the second most precious person in my life, Addie. I know my son is a good man. He's kind and hard working. He's loyal and compassionate. And he loves you with the same undying love I feel to my soul when I look at your mother. He will protect you and care for you the way you deserve and that is all I want."

My attempts to keep the emotions bottled up, keep the tears from ruining my makeup fail. Warm tears trek down my cheeks.

Oz smiles a little sadly as he brushes the stray tear away lightly with the pad of his thumb.

"Don't cry, my love. You'll make him think our conversation is going badly."

Willing back the rest of the flood, I glance back to where Rhys's brows are furrowed, his stance rigid like he's debating whether or not to march over. I give him a quick smile and a wave before returning to the other man who holds my heart.

"How did I get so lucky?"

Warm lips brush the skin between my eyebrows. "I'm the one who is lucky, mi amor."

The song ends and Oz starts leading me to where Rhys stands watching us, watching me with eyes that beg me to go to him. I want to so desperately it physically hurts, but I resist.

"We're trying not to get people talking," I tell Oz when I stop him from taking me to Rhys. "Your anniversary should be about you guys."

Oz scoffs. "Let them. Like I said, I'm not worried about it." He kisses my cheek. "Go to him."

I don't need to be told twice. I practically sprint in my heels to the man I love with all my heart.

Rhys doesn't hesitate. His arms are open even before I reach him. They slide around me with fluid ease and draw me the rest of the way into his chest.

I blow out a breath heavy with all the weight in my chest.

"Yeah, I fucking hated that, too," he murmurs into my temple.

"It won't be for much longer," I remind us both.

Rhys grunts and I snuggle closer.

"Dance with me."

I accept the offered hand and let him lead me back onto the floor. He draws me into his arms. Too close. We are leaving no doubt in anyone's mind that we're together and my will to care fades when I tilt my head back and find myself the center of his whole focus.

"Every man here is hoping I will drop dead so they can have you," he murmurs quietly. "You're so fucking beautiful, Addie."

My cheeks warm. "Thank you, and none of them stand a chance."

He hums quietly and brushes a palm lightly down my spine. "I am the luckiest man alive."

I reach up and adjust the row of buttons LuAnn contaminated with her grubby hands. "Did you hit Michael?"

His expression never falters. He continues to watch me as if I personally hung the moon.

"Yes."

If I could muster a reaction, it's hindered by LuAnn and a portly middle-aged man sweeping past us. The bitch gives Rhys a four-finger wiggle that fills me with the urge to punch her in the grinning mouth.

Instead, I deliberately turn my frown back to Rhys. "I don't think you realize how close you came to getting your leg peed on," I grumble.

Rhys raises both eyebrows. "Baby, I'll try anything with you, but that might be my hard limit."

I burst out laughing. "It's absolutely my hard no, but I did learn something about myself while you were over here, getting pawed at by all those women." He wisely makes no comment, but I catch the tongue he rolls over his teeth in amusement. I reach up and gently touch the side of his face, brushing my thumb over his bottom lip. "I learned I don't like other people touching what's mine, Rhys."

Hard, greedy edges darken his eyes as he pulls me flush against him, against his hard front. His head lowers until his nose bumps mine.

"Agreed," he says with a possessive growl.

My hand slides across the warm skin at the back of his neck. "Good."

He hums and lowers his eyes to my lips. "Kiss on it, Addie."

I do. Happily. I might not be able to pee on him, but I claim him. I make sure every bitch watching knows he's fucking mine.

I drew back to peer into his face. Into the satisfied smirk tilting his mouth like he's the one who won something.

"What are you so happy about?" I tease.

The heavy hand wedged against the small of my spine travels up to cup the back of my head, holding me in place when he pulls his teeth back in an arrogant smirk.

"You may have been ready to pee on me, but I was ready to fuck you against the porch rails to get all the fuckers here to stop staring at you."

Despite the heady thrill coursing through me, I laugh. "We're definitely a pair."

Rhys brushes his quiet hum against my lips. "When can we leave, Addie? We have a game I need to finish with you."

At the mention of game, my head jerks back. I blink up at him with a grimace. "About that..." I nibble on my bottom lip and touch the center of his chest. "We're being evicted to the guesthouse as of tonight."