Filthy (The Reckless Series #2) - HJ Bellus Page 0,27
her tits. “I’m all yours, baby, please trust me.”
“I trust you, Rhett, it’s just…” She doesn’t finish her thought and only shakes her head. “Never mind, it’s fine.”
This conversation is going nowhere and I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I have to prove to Darby I can make this all work. I can continue to be me, and the same with her, and our love will be the one thing that pulls us together.
“Are you sure?” I swivel her around in my arms to face me and place a gentle kiss on her lips. “You have to be open or this won’t work, baby.”
“It’s just a hard pill to swallow knowing all those women will be fantasizing about fucking you. It was fine when we were friends with benefits, but aren’t we more now?”
The uncertainty in her voice guts me and I’m quick to respond, leaving no doubt left behind in her mind. “We are so much more now. You’re mine and I’m yours. We are going to move into a home together that I restored with my own hands.”
“Then it sucks to watch you dance.”
“Do you not want to come?”
“If you choose to dance then I’m going to be there.”
I don’t miss the choice of words she uses. If I choose.
“I’m not choosing this over you. It’s a part of me.”
“Then I’ll be there.” She runs her long nail down my chest.
And I know it’s my job to make her know it will all work out.
9
Darby
“Well, that was easy,” I say to the empty room.
It took two carloads to get everything over to our new house. The landlord was kind and didn’t mind us breaking the contract. As I sifted through our shit, I realized I’ve been living in a state of numbness since the night I pushed Oliver. Empty pill bottles, booze bottles, and anything else I used to mute the pain of living and remembering.
I left it all behind and became physically ill looking at the shit. That’s not me. Not me at all, I’ve been through other traumatic shit and never went that route. Goosebumps race all over skin thinking about how close I came to losing myself. It was a combination of watching Ava’s happiness yesterday and opening up to Rhett that cemented the fact I’m not letting Oliver control me anymore.
Rhett scares the shit out of me, but he really opened up to me yesterday, soothing away some worries. I’m jumping in with him and it feels so fucking thrilling, but also so damn scary at the same time.
My phone lights up and I know it’s Rhett. He’s been texting me all day. Mostly dirty thoughts and pictures, and I won’t lie, I fucking adore them.
Rhett: See you soon
Me: Just finished moving everything over.
Rhett: Damn, one day you’ll make someone a fine piece of ass.
Me: You know it.
Rhett: Wear a fuck me dress.
Me: Why?
Rhett: So I can fuck you!
Me: Have I ever told you how romantic you are?
Rhett: I’m fucking Prince Charming.
I toss my phone on the bed his dad brought over earlier this morning, then run my hand along the new bright grey and yellow comforter I purchased. If he wants a fuck me dress then that’s what he’ll get. I’ve been relaxed since being here living in shorty shorts and tanks, but I’ll pull out all the stops tonight just for him and for the skanky blonde who seems to think she owns him.
My true love and passion stares back at me from my closet. Fashion. Dresses. Shoes. Designer labels. I run my finger along the long line of clothes hung up on hangers. I had them stored over at Ava’s after we moved out of her parents’ summer home. I used to have a fashion blog, and was determined I was going to trend and make a career out of it.
But then life happened. I pull the black dress from the closet and remember the photo shoot where I shot in it. It’s a short one that barely hugs the curves of my ass cheeks with an open back and tiny straps. A shimmery lace covers the base of the dress, giving it just enough sparkle to stand out.
My legs dip into the top of it and I shimmy it to the top tucking my tits in it. It fits like a glove, hugging all of my curves perfectly. Exhaling loudly, I remember the high of being in these dresses. I look into the full-length mirror framed by