“A turnkey business owner!” gasps Reid. “My God, man. You really are a hoot.”
I have to step into the kitchen, away from their eyes and ears to grasp the counter and let out a long, stifled laugh that shakes my whole body. I can’t believe what is going on out in the living room. It’s too improbable to believe, but there it is. Reid Riggins, the most gruff, abrasive man I’ve ever known, is out there schmoozing with my parents and they are buying every second of it. My laughter nearly turns to abject panic when I realize there’s no way he can keep them fooled. He’s probably out there right now about to say something that’s going to give him away once and for all.
When I step back out into the living room, my parents are uncharacteristically rowdy as they cheer on Roman, who is riding Reid around the room like he’s a horse.
“Guide him with your ankles, son!” laughs my father.
“There it is!” adds my mother. “Trust the horse and he’ll take care of the rest.”
I watch with a mixture of shock, horror, and amusement. My parents who have only ever seemed able to scowl in my presence look to be having the time of their lives. Granted, none of their good humor or amusement is coming from me, but this is beyond unusual. And Reid…
I look at the way he’s bucking his hips and laughing with Roman as he makes a fool of himself. For me. He’s doing all of this for me. I don’t know how much it taxes him or if it does at all, but the simple and plain fact is right there. Clear as day. Reid may not be the selfish asshole I pegged him as. Maybe he wasn’t the only one who jumped to conclusions. He assumed I was just letting my parents’ money solve my problems, and I’ve been assuming he’s as heartless as Tara led me to believe.
Now I’m not so sure.
The rest of the day goes off without a hitch, to my amazement. In fact, it goes too well, because instead of leaving like they had originally planned, my parents insisted on renting out a bed and breakfast for themselves to stay a few days. They were completely smitten by Reid and Roman. Neither Alfred nor Collette paid me much attention, but even having them approve of something or someone associated with me is a massive step up in treatment, so I can’t even complain.
When they finally leave, It’s close to eight, and Roman is already asleep on the couch. Reid closes the door behind them and turns to me, breathing out a long sigh. “How’d I do?” he asks with a smirk that says he knows exactly how well he did.
“You were amazing,” I say.
Our eyes lock, and I realize we’re standing incredibly close. So close I can smell the woodsy scent of him. My hands itch to reach for him, to splay across his broad chest and work his buttons open, one by one.
“Being your fiancé wasn’t so bad,” he says.
I bite my lip, a little embarrassed at how much of a thrill that sends through me. What is he implying? “I can’t disagree.”
He chuckles. “It’s settled then. Let’s just tie the knot.”
“Wh-what?” I ask.
“I’m just fucking with you,” he says.
“Yeah. Obviously. Of course,” I say quickly. “But what are we going to do about the ring? If my parents are staying, they will expect to see it soon.”
“I’ll figure that out.”
“Reid... Thank you. What you did for me today was the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. You have no idea what it meant to me to see my parents that happy. I’ve spent so long convincing myself I hated them.” I laugh a little bitterly. “I still resent them for expecting so little out of me, but I also think I may have just hated that I couldn’t make them happy… I couldn’t do it in eighteen years of living with them, and you did it in one night.”
I rock forward onto my tip-toes and kiss him on the cheek. My lips linger against the heat of his skin longer than I intend, his scent intoxicating me. His strong hand threads up my neck and into my hair. Our eyes meet, only centimeters apart.
“I know just the way for you to thank me,” he says, crashing his lips onto mine and lifting me so my legs can wrap around his waist. He carries me effortlessly toward my bedroom, weaving around obstacles and past the small, sleeping form of Roman.
We kiss like we’re starving, like every lust-filled kiss could be the last one and we have to make it strong enough to last an eternity. I’ve never kissed anyone like this. Reid infuses every kiss with more sexuality and power than most men could give me in hours, just like a master painter can put more meaning into a brush stroke than an amateur can put on an entire canvas,
My body reacts to him like a drug. My pulse pounds. My breath comes in heaving, gasping breaths between the locking of our lips and the dance of our tongues. Every movement, touch, and sensation is bliss. I’m thrown down on the bed and Reid stands over me, stripping off his suit and ripping his shirt apart, sending stripped buttons scattering to the carpet. I’ve seen him shirtless before. Outside, in the sun, covered in grease, oil, and sweat. Now I see him like I never have before. Every muscle is a threat. A promise. The powerfully carved chest and abs are a reminder of how much power he has over me, how completely and totally he can rule me in this room. It’s a reminder that I’m in his domain now.
And my God does that turn me on.
I’ve spent my life trying to prove I can take control for myself, trying to prove I’m above sitting back and letting the power of my parents’ money handle things for me. But here, in this bedroom, and in the presence of Reid, I have no desire to be in control. No, I want to be controlled. I want him to take me how he wants me. With him, I can feel power in surrender.
“You liked pretending to be my fucking wife-to-be, didn’t you?” he asks, unbuckling his belt and tossing it aside before pushing his pants off.
I bite my lip, nodding and scooting back, away from him on the bed.
He growls, grabbing my ankle and yanking me back toward him. “Don’t run away, wife.”
Wife. Even imagining being Reid’s wife opens a torrent of confusion in my head. What would that even be like? He would come in from a day of work smelling raw and manly. He’d put his dirty hands all over me. Possessively. Hungrily. He’d probably drag me to bed whether I wanted to or not. He’d take me when he wanted. How he wanted. He would protect me and value me.
I close my eyes, letting my head fall back into the blankets. “I liked it,” I whisper.
He rips my pants off in one swift motion, taking my panties with them. “You liked what?” he asks.
“I liked pretending to be yours.”
His grin is dangerous as he strips me of my shirt and bra, leaving me as completely naked as he is. “And you liked feeling my cum deep in your fucking pussy, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” I whisper, cheeks burning hot.
“You want to carry my baby. You want to be my wife.”
I clamp my mouth shut, not trusting myself to deny it. I should deny it, deny him, but I don’t know that I want to anymore.