for a change.”
I’m rendered speechless. He turns and stalks down the hall. Heat floods my face as I guiltily glance around, but there are no witnesses.
I turn back to watch as he strides away from me—and watch his gorgeous fucking ass—and my cock gives another jolt.
The guy is damned good-looking. I can’t blame Liam for marrying him. I’d have married him, too.
If I wasn’t such a fucking chickenshit.
My mind flashes to last night, the memory of looking up at his hooded gaze as he plowed me while Liam whispered in my ear, and my cock painfully hardens again.
I could have a fantasy come true.
If I survive the hellish reality that would have to materialize first. There’s no way I could secretly be with them long-term while I’m married. Not without potentially exposing my truths in the ugliest way possible. Olivia would wrench my metaphorical leash tightly in her hands via our prenup and use it to ruin my soul along with my life.
But I want it and them.
God, I want them so much, more than life and reason.
But I’m not sure how much my life will be worth if I cross my father.
* * * *
Olivia rolls her eyes at me. “I’m not going to that church with you or them.”
It’s Saturday night, and I have my orders from Daniel. Hidden in my bedroom is the buttplug I am to wear to church tomorrow.
And I’m to bring Olivia with me.
I don’t know why he’s made that an order, but okay, whatever. I’ll follow it.
We’ve been arguing about this for ten minutes now, and I finally snap.
“Fine.” I pull out my phone. “I’m sure your father will be interested to hear you’ve been taking birth control pills and hiding it from me, which is why you haven’t gotten pregnant.”
I mean, obviously the hiding part is a lie, and she told me taking the pill was to help with her period symptoms every month, but her family is rabidly anti-birth control, unless you’ve already had several kids first.
Plus, there’s the whole pack of lies she’s been telling them about our trials and tribulations with fertility issues. Lies I’ve helped her tell, but always in such a way that makes it possible for me to wiggle out of them and make it look like she’s been lying to me, too.
Her eyes widen. “What?” She dives for my phone and I step back, holding it above my head. I’m over a foot taller than her and she doesn’t stand a chance. “You can’t tell them that!” she shrieks.
I channel Daniel and Liam and glare down at her. “You’re going to get your ass dressed in the morning and come to church with me, and smile while you’re there with me. I don’t ask a lot of you, Olivia, but so help me, I will make your whole family think you’re the Whore of Babylon if you fuck me over.”
She tries to stare me down before finally breaking first. “Fine,” she spits. “I hate that church, and I hate those two men.”
“I don’t give a crap if you hate them. I’m just asking you to be polite to my friends. I’ve put on a show for you for fifteen fucking years now, with very little asked of you in return.” Daniel’s hot-and-cold routine this week means I damn well will do what he asks.
Anything to stay in his good graces.
She finally storms to her room and slams the door behind her, making me smile. I retreat to my bedroom and lock myself in.
Tomorrow won’t be the first time I’ve ever gone to church while wearing a buttplug. That used to be one of Liam’s favorite games, and one I eagerly played with him back in college. We were two young, horny guys, and games like that were only made hotter by the forbidden aspect of it.
I prepare for bed and set my alarm, with Daniel’s words to me in the hallway once again filling my mind.
“You have a chance to have both of us and an authentic life, and a chance to finally be happy, or you can stay stuck in the closet and living a lie that’s making you miserable.”
I don’t know how to make that happen, though.
I really don’t.
Other than the few ways I can yank Olivia’s chain, I’m stuck in an endless loop of not being sure how to divorce her without my father retaliating against me, and not being sure how to refuse to run for a second term without him