Chapter 3
Three
Steak juice splatters all over my ‘World’s Best Dad’ apron that River gifted me for my birthday last year as I stab thick slabs of meat and move them from the grill to a serving platter.
Fucking bitch.
The two words replay in my mind like a broken record. Charlotte has everything she could ever want. Yet, instead of being happy, she chooses to live her life in self-induced misery. And she’s poisoning Rhys’ fucking brain with her bullshit.
My body thrums with anger. I’ve never touched Charlotte with anything other than a gentle hand, even when I found out she cheated. But hearing her say those words to Lucy? Hearing Rhys say what he said before his mother opened her over-injected lips?
I was already well on my way to scolding my son when my wife put in her two cents, and I couldn’t stop myself from grabbing her and forcing her out of the room. I’ve never been more disgusted with anyone in my life .
It’s a damn fucking shame that two members of my own family made me feel that way tonight.
River is chatting animatedly with Lucy when I enter the dining room.
She’s always been good with him, listening intently while he tells her about the day he had with his best friend.
Rhys watches them forlornly as if he wants to join in on the conversation, but something is holding him back.
His head swivels to me, blue eyes, which are so much like his mother’s, staring blankly at me like he’s lost and can’t find his way back from the mess she’s pulling him into.
They’ve grown closer over the last few months, and I can only imagine the bullshit she’s feeding him behind my back—all the lies about her affair and why she did it. How I’m cold toward her and always busy working, so she sought comfort in the arms of a barely legal kid.
Ironically, I glance at Lucy, a radiant rainbow through the storm brewing in my house. She’s changed into a pair of distressed, acid wash cut-off shorts—that barely cover her ass—and a plum-colored shirt that has a plunging neckline and fluttery sleeves.
“So, Lucy. Have you decided on a college yet?” I place half a steak on River’s plate, ruffling his hair and kissing the top of his head.
She brightens up, nodding enthusiastically as she dishes out potatoes and green beans for River. “I settled on Berkeley! They have an excellent business administration program, plus a kickass cheer team.”
I don’t miss the way my oldest son flinches before a scowl settles over his face as he fixes her with a hard glare.
He already signed a letter of intent with Ole Miss, and Lucy was still debating where she wanted to go.
But if she’s settled on cheerleading in college, she would have had to send in her tryout video months ago.
So that’s the reason Rhys has become so sullen and unlike himself.
If Lucy knows Rhys is upset with her decision, she doesn’t acknowledge it as she smiles at him.
She cuts a steak into thirds, placing two parts back on the serving platter before cutting her portion into tiny pieces and pushing away the fat with her knife.
There’s a spoonful of green beans on her plate and a generous helping of salad in her bowl sans dressing.
And I can’t help but notice the absence of the parmesan potatoes she and River love so much.
“California, huh? I never figured you for a West Coast girl.” I flash her a smile, glancing between her and my oldest. “You can go surfing when you visit, Rhys.”
He rolls his eyes. “Like I’m going to have time to go to California.”
Lucy’s smile falters, and she quickly interjects, “Well, I can always visit you if you don’t have time to see me.”
“I don’t know why you couldn’t just stick to Ole Miss.
That was the plan.” Rhys’ tone is accusing, and Lucy’s cheeks turn pink as she looks back down at her plate.
A stray coppery lock falls into her face, and my palm twitches, itching to push it behind her ear—to cup her cheek in my palm and offer some sort of comfort.
“I’m not really hungry. Come on, Luce,” Rhys demands. His chair screeches as he abruptly pushes back from the table and stands, waiting for her to join him .
River chews his steak quietly, looking down at his plate like he always does when there’s strife at the dinner table. It twists my heart to see his sad face scrunched up as he tries hard to be invisible and not the subject of his brother’s attitude.
But Rhys’ ire is strictly for Lucy, who looks like she’s walking death row.
And because it’s none of my business, and I know my son would never lay a hand on her, I don’t say anything as they retreat hand in hand to the pool house.
Diverting my attention to my younger son, I tap my hand on the table near his elbow. “How was your day, Riv?”
Lucy
“What is up with you lately, Rhys? It’s like you’ve been a completely different person these last few months,” I state the moment he shuts the door to the pool house.
It wasn’t a necessary addition to the backyard, but the Morgan brothers convinced their father to build it, citing that it would be a perfect place for friends to hang out instead of Rhys’ room in the basement, keeping Lawson and Charlotte up all night.
It’s the perfect little home, with a loft that houses three sets of bunk beds. The downstairs has a fridge, multiple couches and loveseats, and a giant flat-screen TV where the boys play their video games.
“Nothing,” he mumbles, grabbing my hips and pulling me against him. His lips are warm when they attach to my neck, sucking that spot below my ear I love so much. “I’m just going to miss you. That’s all. ”
Heat floods my insides, both at his actions and his words. But we have things to talk about, and Rhys loves to distract me with sex when he doesn’t want to have a conversation. “Babe. What’s going on?”
Releasing a long sigh, he lets me go and runs a hand through his hair, pushing the long strands off his forehead.
“Honestly, Lucy, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.
I mean, clearly, you’re not interested in this…
” He gestures between us. “…if you were even entertaining the thought of going somewhere other than Ole Miss. The plan was that you’d go wherever I went. So, what gives?”
He collapses onto a plush cream loveseat and widens his legs, patting the space between them like he always does when he wants to cuddle. But cuddling doesn’t seem to fit the situation, and I know it’s his way of trying to segue into sex.
Regardless, I go and straddle his lap, laying a soft kiss against his pillowy lips.
“Of course, I’m interested in this… in us .
But I’d be lying if I said Ole Miss is where I want to spend the next few years of my life.
I’m ready for a change, for something different.
You know how much I loved California when my family vacationed there last year. ”
Rhys hums in confirmation, leaning forward to nip my collarbone as he wraps one hand around my backside and the other at the base of my neck.
“It’s just so far away, baby. You’re really going to deprive me of this for months at a time?
” He bucks his hips, and his hard length presses against my already wet center as he drags his teeth along my skin.
Pulling my hair, he forces me to arch my back as he yanks down my shirt and bra. His lips find my nipple, sucking the stiffened peak hard before laving at it with his tongue. Twisting my fingers in his silky strands, I pull, relishing the husky moan that vibrates against my chest.
“Think about how good it will be when we finally do get to see each other.” I try to push off his lap, but he pulls me back down forcefully. “Come on, Rhys. Let’s go upstairs.”
I try to get up again, and this time, he releases me.
But only until I get to my feet. He loops his fingers into the waistband of my shorts and holds me in place, making quick work of the button and zipper before shoving them to the floor so swiftly that I have to grasp his shoulders to maintain my balance.
“Rhys—”
“Shut up.” He leans forward to lick the arousal that’s smeared along my thighs, his hands going to the waistband of his track pants to shove them down. With a groan, his tongue swipes along my center, languid and hot as the tip flicks against my clit. “Fuck. You’re the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”
A small smirk forms on my lips, and I peer down at him with a quirked brow, peeling my shirt and bra over my head. “I better be the only thing you’ve ever tasted.”
Rhys stares up at me as he continues to lick, smiling against my core.
When his teeth graze my sensitive flesh, I suck in a sharp breath as liquid heat floods between my legs.
My gaze lifts to the window directly across from us, which reflects the one at my back.
“Baby, seriously, come on. Let’s go upstairs.
Anyone could see us through the windows. ”
He seems completely unbothered, spinning me around by my hips before pulling me onto his lap, his cock nestled between my butt cheeks. “We’ve always wanted to be watched.”
Storm gray flashes behind my lids as my head rolls back on Rhys’ shoulder.
The thought of his parents—or, god forbid, River—seeing us has anxiety seeping along the edges of my pleasure.
As if he can sense my hesitation, Rhys chases it away as he finds that spot beneath my ear, sucking on it while he palms my breasts.
His fingers twist my nipples, and the breath stalls in my lungs as he squeezes his elbows into my sides and lifts me so his length slides between my legs.
“We don’t have a condom.” The words are hoarse as they leave my throat. I’m overstimulated as Rhys sucks at my neck, plucking my nipples and sliding the crown of his cock against my clit. I can see myself parted around his hard shaft, coating him in my juices with every pass.
“It’s fine for one night,” he assures me, grabbing my chin to turn my head. “I’ll get you a pill in the morning.”
There’s no room for discussion as he captures my lips with a kiss, plunging his tongue into my mouth as he seats me on his cock. I cry out against his mouth as he stretches me, bare for the first time in the two years we’ve been intimate.
In the back of my mind, I know we shouldn’t have sex without a condom. We’re taking the risk of becoming another high school statistic of teenage pregnancy, upending our lives just before college.
I almost wonder if that’s what Rhys is trying to accomplish .
“You’re not getting out of our conversation,” I whisper against his lips. My arm hooks around his neck, and my other hand grasps for anything to anchor myself as he fucks me, bottoming out with each satisfying thrust.
I’m too far gone to keep thinking about anything other than how Rhys plays every part of me like a violin—plucking at all the right cords to create a blissful symphony nearing its crescendo.
His lips trail down my neck as he picks up the pace, hitting that perfect spot inside me over and over again. “I never want to get out of you, Lucy.”
“Fuck, Rhys, I’m so close.” I let out a moan, pressing my head back into his shoulder as the beginnings of an orgasm pulses between my legs.
My lids flutter open, and I’m prepared to look over my shoulder and lock gazes with my boyfriend as we come together. But as my vision focuses, I catch sight of stormy gray irises through the window.
Lawson.
His pupils are blown wide as his gaze rakes down my body, taking in every exposed part of me, and his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows thickly. His hands are clenched into fists at his sides—the outline of his hardening length apparent behind his thin joggers.
When he meets my stare, a tidal wave of ecstasy flows through me as I come hard with a hoarse cry, legs spread wide, speared on Rhys’ cock, completely bared to his dad through the glass.
We’re both frozen, watching each other as another wave crests, and I bite my lower lip to stop from crying out again.
From here, I can see his jaw tense, gaze darkening as Rhys presses his forehead harder into my shoulder and roars his release against my back.
It’s then that I finally close my eyes.
And when I open them again, Lawson is gone.
Holy fucking shit.