Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Dawson barely hides his smirk as he quickly cuts off his chuckle.
“Dawson,” I grit out.
“You’ve got it rough, Crue. I’ll give you that.”
“I need to pee,” Rya announces.
I tilt my head to the sky with a silent prayer and curse under my breath. Of all the things I thought she might have gotten up to, this was not one of them. Nor would I condone her behavior. And I would certainly cut down anyone who dared take away from her fun.
“Crue, take me to the bathroom,” she whines, grabbing my elbow.
I have never dealt with this side of Rya.
And I’ve seen her drink a lot.
“How much did she drink?” I ask Dawson. He looks at the remains of three bottles of champagne.
“I only had four glasses,” he says.
“We were D and M-ing,” Rya says as if answering an unspoken question.
“Okay, princess.” I try not to laugh at her state because, well, smashed Rya is… adorable? There’s a word I never thought I would use to describe this venomous vixen.
“I’m going to take this woman to the bathroom, and then we’ll go.”
“No, I don’t want to go.” She pouts.
Dawson is hiding another smile.
“Fuck off, Dawson.”
He excuses himself as Francesca approaches us. I lead Rya to a private bathroom at the back of the house and closest to the pool. Music floods the room.
“That’s a nice bathtub,” she says in admiration as we stumble into the bathroom. “Remember those bath bombs you bought me? I threw them out.”
She stumbles over to the toilet and drops her panties before she sits.
“Wow, Rya,” I say, looking the other way.
“Oh, don’t be so weird about it. Everyone has to pee.”
I chuckle. One thing I’m sure of is when I finally make this vixen my wife—and I will make her my wife—I will definitely be entertained. How strange it is to see this side of her. Behind the lawyer and the suit, I consider that this fiery spirit still wants to be set free. Something I could offer her when she accepts my hand.
She finishes her business and then washes her hands. Rya looks at herself in the mirror, brushing her hair from side to side until it falls the way she wants it to.
I come up behind her, wrapping my arm around her waist and making eye contact with her in the mirror. Her drunk gaze promises everything sober Rya hides. But here, right at the surface, is this wild, beautiful version of her leaking at the edges to escape.
So why won’t she accept what I’m offering when I can give her the world?
CHAPTER 46
Rya
“We should get you home.” His voice rakes down my body like every inch is on fire. Hot and in need of him. I downed those drinks all night, more irritated by my conflicting feelings. Every time I look at him, I hate him but need him all the same, like it’s my next fucking breath. He’s like my own personal heroin.
But nothing good will come from us being together.
In this moment… there is no past or future… there is only the now.
It always feels like that with Crue. I only want to focus on the now, damning myself with the consequences the next day.
I twist in his arms and wrap my arms around his neck. When I do, I can feel his cock hardening. “You like my touch,” I say with a flirty smile.
“I like those filthy lips of yours,” he admits as he brings his finger up to rub the red on my lips.
“These lips?” I whisper as I drop to my knees. I undo his belt with efficiency before curling my hand beneath the weight of his cock and setting it free. It’s beautiful and inviting. All things Crue—divine, larger than life, and delicious.
I wrap my lips around his cock, the light flavor of salt spiking over my tastebuds as I take him. I drag my teeth along his flesh, and he hisses. The pulse in his cock throbbing on my tongue. I like the way he feels and tastes.
He tries to knot his hands in my hair, but I slap them away and look up at him. “You will do as you’re told.”
Crue grabs my throat and pulls me up to his level. I can barely breathe, but I yearn for his reward.
“I don’t get told to do anything.”
I fist his cock, and his head falls back slightly. I place my other hand on his cheek as if I am inviting him in for a secret, and I say against his lips, “But you will for me.”
His eyes heat with a warning. “Careful, princess.” His hand cups me over my dress, and his clever fingers dance along my sweet spot that has already come to life for him.
“What do you need from me?” he asks.
“Good sex, obviously,” I purr.