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The corner of his mouth quirks upward. “I’m not married at all. Elliot confirmed that the pictures and the marriage license that Holly gave us were fakes. Good fakes, but fakes. So I’m a free agent. Kinda. There is this girl that I really hope wants to keep me around…”
I pull back from him. It has to be a joke, or… or another lie or something. I’ve been fighting so hard trying not to believe that Reese would lie to me about a wife and the mother of his child. It seems like a crazy thing, right? The thing you only hear about on news specials—the man with the double life, two sets of women, two sets of children, two totally different lives.
In all that, I forgot one thing: Reese lives his life as his truest self. He’s been honest from the start.
So why would he hide now?
All I see is honesty in his eyes. An earnest desire. My chest tightens, like my heart is breaking all over again. “You’re telling the truth.”
“Yeah, well, you don’t have to sound so broken up over it.”
“I just—Reese, I’m so confused?—”
“Olivia.” Reese cradles my hands in his massive, calloused hands. He engulfs my vision. There’s nothing else in the entire world but him. His eyes. His smile as he looks at me. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t even care anymore. I’d said I’d prove it to you, didn’t I?”
I cringe. “You must hate me.”
“Oh, I was mad as fuck,” he agrees with a laugh. “But even then, I could never hate you. I love you so much that, even if I tried, I couldn’t hate you.”
Everything else is still so uncertain, but this isn’t. We’re in this together.
We always have been.
I grip his shirt, clinging to him as his mouth descends on mine. We groan in unison, a complete, singular being driven entirely by the love and lust running chaotic from me into him and him into me. Our tongues dance in the space between our mouths. The mingling reminds me?—
“You might get sick?—”
“I couldn’t give a fuck less.” Reese reels me back to him when I go to move away. Pillows go flying. “If you’re sick, I don’t care. I want what you have. I want what you are. I want what’s here.” His fingers linger on my stomach. A slight curve comes to his mouth. “You’re mine, Olivia Carter. Come hell or high fucking water.”
I’m panting. Suddenly, my skin feels entirely too hot and it’s not a fever that’s causing it. I rub my thighs together, as if the friction will help ease the ache rather than heighten like it does. I should be panicked. There might be a baby growing inside of me. Shouldn’t we be worried?
And yet, the thought of Reese wanting it sends electricity ricocheting through every fiber of my being.
He crawls over me, his arms caging me to the bed as the hardness of him presses between my thighs, eager to seek the heat of my core. I raise my hips to him, putty in his hands already.
It’s funny how any sharp turn of emotion brings us here. Every time, it’s like we have to show how we feel with our bodies. We fight and we fuck. We love and we fuck. We blink or sneeze or hum and boom, we fall into bed like it’s the only possible next step.
Like, otherwise, we might explode.
“I want to be inside you,” he breathes out against my throat, leaving his words and kisses along my skin.
Instead of answering him, I push down my pajama bottoms and take my panties with them. Reese eyes me hungrily. His gaze is feral. I love that about him—how he can make me the center of his desire and I know without asking that the rest of the world has disappeared for him.
I bite my lip. My eyes never leave his when I undo his jeans, slipping my hand into his boxers. His cock is already hard and throbbing. That’s another thing I’ve always loved: how quick he gets hard for me. Like he’s always ready for me to touch him, always ready to own and claim me.
My fingers can barely circle around his thickness. When he groans, it fills my ears with such a delicious sound that I can’t help but moan out with him.
“That’s good, Olivia,” he breathes out. “So good.”
I didn’t know I had a praise kink before Reese Dalton, but there’s no denying that those words do something to me. I draw my hand up his hard shaft and down. When I squeeze at the base, his cock jumps in my hand. Sweet, hot precum drips down over the shaft and onto my fingers. Impatient, he pumps his cock between my fingers, looking me in the eyes.
“I want to be inside you,” he repeats in a hollow croak. “I don’t think I can wait any longer.”
I guide his cock to my entrance and rub it there, dripping along the broad head of him. My heat makes his face screw up in pleasure as I push him inside me. I try to go slow, but this thing between us unfolds at the speed it wants to—the speed either of us want to move seems completely irrelevant.
All of him is sheathed inside me in a second. Right to the hilt. Reese fills and takes over my body, flooding me with a pleasure that only he can give me.
“You turn me into a fucking animal,” he growls out, pushing in and out of me. He grips a breast, making me arch into his touches as his mouth descends on my nipple.
