He’s pissed off. Why? I have no idea. But he’s been walking around here like he’s constantly on edge. At first, I thought it had something to do with the double date the other night, but Mali helped me realize he was fine that night. It wasn’t until the next morning that he started acting strangely. And every time I ask him about it, he claims he’s fine.

Long story short; my husband has become a PMS-ing preteen.

I’m standing in the bathroom, curling my hair, when he comes into the bedroom. He stops and lets his eyes rake over me, but the part of me that hopes he likes it gets crushed as he huffs, shaking his head.

“What’s your problem lately?” I ask, finally having enough of his attitude.

He leans against the doorway. “I don’t know, Lai. Why don’t you tell me where you got the dress?”

Oh, this should be fun. “It was sent over.”

“Moneybags is buying you shit now?”

“No,” I say sternly. “This is from the designer and will go back to them after the gala tonight. I’m essentially a walking billboard. I mentioned in our group chat that I had nothing to wear, and Monty connected me with someone who arranges for outfits to be modeled at these events.”

He scoffs. “You’re in a group chat with your best friend and her boyfriend? And you don’t find that weird?”

“Maybe, if I had met him because she’s dating him, but it was created long before they became a thing.”

There’s clearly no reasoning with him as he turns around and goes to lie on our bed—though calling it that right now might be a bit of a stretch. Lately, he’s been avoiding me by working on the bar so late that I’m asleep by the time he gets home.

My brows furrow as I look at the time, noting we have to leave in thirty minutes, and he isn’t even showered yet.

“Aren’t you going to get ready?” I question.

He doesn’t look up from his phone. “No, because I’m not going.”

My jaw drops. “Seriously?”

“Don’t act like you’re surprised,” he tells me. “You’ve known all week I wasn’t going to end up going to that hoity-toity bullshit.”

“No, I didn’t, because you haven’t talked to me in days. Not really, anyway.” I feel like I’m on the verge of breaking. “Why aren’t you coming?”

“Because it’s not my world! And it’s not yours either, no matter how much you may want it to be.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

He tosses his phone on the bed. “Oh, don’t play dumb. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“I don’t!” I shout.

“You don’t.” He repeats sarcastically. “Really? That’s hilarious, because you couldn’t seem to stop talking about the fact that we got married, but magically, the one person in all of Calder fucking Bay who didn’t know was Monty.”

This can’t be happening. If I had known he was going to freak out over who knows about our wedding and who doesn’t, I would’ve screamed it from the rooftops. Had it written in the damn sky, even. But I never thought he was the kind of person to worry about that—not after he kept me a secret for the first couple months.

It’s not even like I intentionally didn’t tell Monty. The only time I’ve been around him since our wedding was the day I found out about him and Mali. Needless to say, that was a little distracting. But before I can tell him that, he smirks like his next words are meant to cause pain.

And they do.

“Why didn’t you tell him, Lai?” He presses. “Wanted to keep your options open?”

It feels like he just punched me full force in the stomach. Then again, that would probably be preferable. It would hurt less. Tears spring to my eyes. I don’t know who the guy standing in front of me is, but it’s not the Hayes that I married.

“Fuck you,” I hiss.

If he still thinks that he’s not the only guy I’ve basically ever wanted, that’s his problem. I’m not about to stand here and let him berate me over it. I turn around and head for the door.noveldrama

“Where are you going?” he calls out.

“To the gala,” I answer. “Without you.”

As I reach the bottom of the stairs, I hear him curse followed by the sound of his footsteps on the ceiling above me. “Babe, wait.”

But I don’t want to hear it. Not right now. He spent the last few days barely speaking to me, and after the shit he just said, he can taste his own medicine for a few hours.

I HAVE TO ADMIT, I don’t want to be here. Everyone looks so happy, dancing around like their worlds are so perfect. And they probably are. These kinds of people, they come from old money. They’ve never had to worry about anything a day in their lives. Most of them don’t even work. They just show up to events like these and toss their money around like being born is something to be proud of.

Hayes might have had a point—this isn’t our world. But he was wrong when he assumed that I want it to be. As if any world other than the one with him is something I’d even begin to consider. It makes me feel like I never should’ve come without him.

A part of me just wants to leave. To go home and work this shit out. We’re married. We made vows. And to be here right now instead of home with him feels wrong. But it’s not a bad idea to let us both calm down. If we’re still angry when we try to talk, it’ll only make it worse.

So, I stay, but it doesn’t mean I’m having a good time.

Monty keeps a hand on Mali’s back, like he has something to prove. And I can’t help but notice the way Cam keeps glancing at it. The second he realized Hayes wasn’t coming, I could tell he wanted to leave. But it’s too late. He’s already here.

“I can’t believe summer is over,” Mali says as she looks around the party.

Cam doesn’t agree. “It’s locals’ summer now.”

“Yeah, but that only lasts a few weeks. It’s essentially over.”

I sigh, thinking about how Hayes’s twenty-first birthday is coming up. Our original plan was for the bar to be ready so we could celebrate there, but it doesn’t look like that’s going to happen yet. In no way does that mean we’re going to let it go unrecognized though.

“H’s birthday is coming up,” I point out.

Cam gasps, feigning shock. “Really? Wow. I had no idea. Thank God you married him so I could find out that useful information.”

I flip him off. “I was thinking of throwing him a surprise party. You know, since the bar won’t be ready in time.”

“Wow,” Mali says. “Mad at him and still planning something nice for him? How grown up and mature you are. I’m so proud of you.”

Monty only latches onto one part of that. “Mad at him? Is there trouble in Wilder Paradise?”

A pit settles in my stomach. The idea of talking to Monty about our issues when I know Hayes doesn’t like him—it doesn’t sit well with me. That’s why I only told Mali about it while we were alone. I wouldn’t want Hayes talking to a girl about the weak spots of our marriage. So, it’s only right that I give him the same respect.

“Nope, we’re good. Just a put the toilet seat down, you don’t live alone kind of disagreement.” I wave off the topic. “Seriously, though. His birthday. Should we throw it at the house? The rink?”

Cam isn’t a fan of the idea. “Nah. He’s not the surprise party kind of guy. You want to make him happy? All he wants is to get drunk with a few of his friends.”

I purse my lips. He has a point. That’s really all Hayes ever wants. I know his mom is planning on having a cake for him in the afternoon. She made sure to mention it the other day in case I was planning something. But to leave that and go somewhere that we can just drink and have fun sounds like a pretty good idea.

“If it’s not too many people, we could use my boat,” Monty suggests.

Mali snorts, but the moment she goes to open her mouth, I cut her off. “I’ll think about it. Thanks Monty.”

She’s already four glasses deep in champagne. The last thing I need is for her to word vomit Hayes’s dislike for Monty in detail. At least Hayes pretends to be nice to his face. And Monty doesn’t know him any better to notice it’s fake.

“I need a beer,” my brother says, then mumbles or seven under his breath.

Monty nods over toward the right. “Open bar, my friend. Knock yourself out.”

“Thanks,” he grumbles, walking away.

Mali’s eyes seem to linger on him and there’s a hint of sadness on her face, but when Monty kisses her cheek, she tears her attention away from him and smiles. It doesn’t reach her eyes though.

It never does with him.

The opening notes of “Take My Name” start to play, and my stomach sinks. Our wedding song. The last time I heard it, I was on cloud nine, dancing around my living room like it was the most romantic place in the world. Nothing else mattered because I was in his arms. And now, he’s not here to share it with me.

What am I doing?

I shouldn’t be here—not while my marriage is in trouble. He’s not wrong to be upset. If I thought he was intentionally hiding our wedding from people, I would be, too. And the longer I stand here, the worse I could be making it.

“I have to go,” I say in a rush.

But as I turn around to leave, I find Hayes standing there, freshly showered and shaved and wearing a suit that makes him look so fucking good.

“May I have this dance?”

The sound of his voice feels like coming home. He puts his hand out and I take it. There might still be a lot to talk about, but right now, I need to be in his arms like I need to breathe.

“I should’ve told you how beautiful you look before you left,” he murmurs softly into my ear.

I sigh and relax into his arms. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told him. It’s not that I’m ashamed of us or want anyone other than you. I honestly just hadn’t gotten the chance yet, except for when I found out him and Mali were dating, and that threw me for a loop. But I swear on my life, I was not hiding you. I love being married to you more than anything.”

He tilts my chin up and kisses me. There’s no way to explain the feeling of the relief that rushes through me. And when he pulls away, he stares into my eyes.

“I’m sorry, too,” he says sincerely. “The things I said to you today were uncalled for. I’m not proud of the way I acted the last few days. To be honest, I still don’t fully believe I’m deserving of you, and I let that insecurity get the better of me. But watching you walk out the door today was devastating. I would never forgive myself if I let you get away.”

God, I love this man.

I kiss him again, this time a little slower. “One of these days, I’m going to get you to realize that you have nothing to worry about. I’m yours, H. Always.”

“Just don’t give up on me,” he pleads, his voice laced with vulnerability.

“Never,” I promise. “And you can’t give up on me, either. You’re not the only one who screws up sometimes.”

“Oh, I know,” he says teasingly. “I can only imagine what I’m in for.”

I giggle and my head rests on his chest once more, as we sway to the music. He quietly sings along, and I commit the sound to memory, because there’s nothing better than hearing our wedding song in his voice, knowing he means every word.

I GET OUT OF the car, slamming the door behind me—only for Hayes to do the same. Everything was fine. We were all having a great time, drinking and laughing. But I had promised to be Cam’s designated driver, so I stayed stone cold sober while Hayes took advantage of the open bar. And the more liquid courage he got, the more of an asshole he became.

“I don’t get what the big fucking deal is,” he argues. “You know I don’t like him.”

I throw my hands in the air as I spin around. “You don’t have to like him, but you don’t have to be an asshole either!”

“I wasn’t an asshole. I just wasn’t playing nice.”

“Hayes, he just wanted a handshake, and you just stared at it and laughed.” He’s not getting it. “It was fucking rude!”

He scoffs. “No, what’s rude is that he wants my fucking wife and knows that I know but acts nice to save face in front of you!”

“Oh my God,” I groan. “Not this shit again. He’s! Dating! Mali!”

“Yeah, so he can stay around you!”

Staring up at the sky, I can’t believe we’re having this argument again. We literally just got over this a few hours ago. I’ve experienced my fair share of stubbornness. I grew up with Cam, and damn can he hold a grudge when he wants to. But this is another level.

“You’re delusional.” I tell him. “Do you even hear yourself?”

“Oh, come on,” he growls. “Those two have as much chemistry as Mrs. Garrison and a giraffe.”

His words catch me off guard, and I have to hold back my laugh. The mental images running through my head of the sweet florist are disturbing, yet hilarious. And as I smirk at him, I feel my anger subsiding.

“It’s the tongue, isn’t it?” I tease.

His shoulders sag and he tries to hide his smile. “That’s not fair.”

“I know!” I agree. “Giraffes have like eighteen-inch tongues!”

I watch his eyes darken as he comes closer, looking down at me. “Do you think that means it would be better than mine?”

Tilting my head to the side, I look away to keep a straight face. “Well…”

Before I can even finish that sentence, he picks me up and carries me into the house. I squeal at the sudden move, but when his lips meet my neck, it quickly changes to a moan.

This.

Right here.

This is what we need—to get lost in each other and forget the rest of the world exists. We haven’t had sex in days, and while that might seem reasonable to some, it’s not normal for us. We’re constantly all over each other when we’re alone. I’d blame it on being newlyweds, but I can’t. It’s just how we are.

Physical touch is our love language, and there’s nothing wrong with that.

As he shuts the door behind us, he pins me against it. His tongue tangles with mine and our moans mix as he grinds into me. It’s so needy. So desperate. Hands are everywhere and the kisses are rough enough to bruise. He moves down to my collar bone and sucks a mark into my skin harshly. It stings but feels so good as his hands grip my breasts.

“You’re infuriating,” he rumbles. “So fucking maddening and so fucking mine.” His hand comes up to grip my throat as he stares into my eyes. “Say it. Say who you belong to.”

“You,” I breathe. “I’m yours.”

The corner of his mouth raises into a smirk. “There’s my good girl.”

Fuck. This is what he does. He makes me want him so bad I can’t think straight. It’s so intense that it blinds me. Turns me into a version of myself that only wants to please him.

Looping his fingers around the straps of the dress, he gently slides it off my shoulders and lets it pool on the floor. I should probably pick it up. After all, it’s not mine. It has to go back to the designer. But with the way he licks his lips as he checks me out, I don’t dare to move.

He hums, dragging his knuckles down the center of my chest. “You are a work of art. There’s no one more gorgeous than you.”

Normally, I would feel exposed. Standing here in only panties and heels, it’s not comfortable. But he has a way of making me feel sexy. He sees me in a way I’ve never seen myself.

Gripping my ass, he lifts me. I wrap my legs around his waist and kiss him deeply. There’s nothing I want more than him. I need this. Need him.

As we get upstairs, I expect him to go straight to the bed, but instead, he brings us into the bathroom. His lips move against mine as he throws his hand at the wall to turn on the light. Then he carefully puts me down and breaks the kiss, turning me around to face the oversized mirror.

“Look at you,” he says, and when I try to look away, he grabs my chin and moves my gaze back where he wants it. “Fucking flawless.”

I watch in the reflection as he presses light kisses from my shoulder to my neck. His fingertips graze down my sides until he starts to slide my panties down my legs. When they reach my knees, he stops and undoes his belt.

My breathing quickens as he pulls his cock out and rubs it against my pussy. He’s really going to do this. He’s going to fuck me and make me watch him do it. And holy shit is it hot.

He presses the heel of his hand between my shoulder blades and bends me forward. My hands rest on the countertop and his eyes lock with mine through the mirror as he enters me. His head falls back as he groans at the pleasure of it.

“You’re mine, Laiken,” he growls, as if I need to be reminded. “All fucking mine. Every inch of you.”

I’m a mumbling mess of moans as I watch him grip my hips, sliding his cock in and out of me. And then I get an idea.

If he wants me to watch him, it’s only fair that I make him watch me.

The moment he lifts his head, and his gaze meets mine, I smirk. My hand slides down in front of me and I press two fingers against my clit. It doesn’t feel nearly as good as when he does it, but the way he drives himself deeper into me makes it more than worth it.

“Does that feel good, baby?” he murmurs. “You love touching yourself, don’t you?”

I bite my lip. “I love imagining it’s you. No one does it like you.”

My words speak directly to the possessive side of him. He wraps his hand around my throat and pulls me up, pressing his chest against my back. It changes the angle, but the way he rocks his hips, I can feel every inch of him inside of me. His other hand grips one of my tits and he nips at my neck while he watches me play with myself.

“Look at you. Such a sinful little seductress.”

He tweaks my nipple and I gasp, letting my head fall back against him. My legs feel weak as they start to tremble, but as they start to give, it only lowers me a little more onto his cock.

I watch as his hand slowly glides down until it’s covering mine. It’s the morning in my bedroom all over again, except this time it’s better.

This time, he’s inside me.

This time, he’s mine.

“God, baby,” he moans as he teases my earlobe. “You’re so good. Feels so good like this.”

I can’t hold it back much longer. The way I can feel his cock in my stomach, it’s the hottest fucking thing. He’s giving me everything he has, and I’m greedy. I want all of it. I want him everywhere.

“Come in me,” I say breathlessly.

He smirks, his eyes meeting mine. “Trust me, babe. I want nothing more than I want that. But you said yourself, I’m too greedy for a baby.”

I whimper, moving my hips opposite of his to make him feel good. “I don’t care. I need it.”

It looks like he’s considering it, and I’m hanging on every second. I want to come when he does. But instead, he slides his hand a little lower, sliding two fingers into my pussy beside his dick. It’s so much more intense as I stretch around him.

“Give me it, Laiken,” he demands. “Soak my cock and my fingers with your cum.”

There’s no part of me that can deny him as my orgasm rips through me, clenching around him. Loud moans fill the room as they come from both of us. I fall forward as he removes his grip from my neck, and Hayes’s hand replaces my own to rub my clit as my whole body trembles. But it’s what comes next that I didn’t expect.

He removes his fingers from inside of me and his gaze stays locked with mine as they tease the only hole he hasn’t taken. I take my bottom lip between my teeth, but I don’t dare to tell him no. It’s like I have a direct line into his thoughts, and I want what he does.

One finger slides into my ass, lubed up with my cum. It’s tight at first, but after a minute, it gets better. He rolls his hips to hit my g-spot, distracting me as he inserts a second finger. It’s like he knows exactly what to do, exactly how my body works, and as his fingers start to scissor me open, I’m becoming desperate for it.

“You going to let me fuck your ass, baby?” he asks softly. “Going to be a good girl and take all my cum?”

Holy shit. It’s going to hurt. Mali already warned me about how uncomfortable it is, and Hayes is big. But knowing he’ll get to release inside of me, filling me up with every drop of cum he has, drowns out the voice of concern.

Love and pain are one and the same, right?

“Please,” I beg. “I want it. I want you to come in my ass.”

He lets his eyes fall closed for a second. “That’s my good girl. Always so good for me, giving me everything I want.”

His fingers work my hole open a little more before he pulls his cock from my pussy and lines up at my ass. He presses in slightly, and I hiss at the stretch. It feels like I’m being ripped open. But he bends forward and presses a kiss to my back.

“Relax,” he coos. “It’ll feel better if you’re relaxed.”

I take a few deep breaths, calming myself, and he slips in a little more. Slowly, he moves until he’s fully inside my ass. Mali was right, this fucking hurts, but as he waits for the pain to subside, his fingers rub my clit and the pressure in my core starts to build—masking the pain at first then working with it to build me up.

“Do it,” I tell him. “Fuck my ass.”

He licks his lips and moans as he starts to move. It’s slow at first, barely noticeable, but with each thrust, his movements quicken.

“You feel amazing like this,” he groans. “Taking me like such a good little princess.”

The more he loses himself in the feeling of me, the more it turns me on. I watch as he chases his own high, fucking me in the ass like he needs it to survive. I rock back against him to meet each thrust. And when he finally slams deep inside of me and releases everything he has, he takes me right over the edge with him.

His cock pulses in my ass as my second orgasm destroys me—no mercy given. I watch his muscles tense and can feel him emptying himself inside of me. A bead of sweat drips off his forehead, and he looks down, admiring the look of him stretching my asshole open.

“We fit so well together,” he says. His thumb rubs over the edge of my hole to feel me around him. “You were made just for me.”

Slowly, he pulls out and I don’t look away from the mirror as his brows furrow. He bites his lip and moans at the sight of his cum leaking out of me. Then he uses his cock to spread it around my pussy.

“Fuck,” he groans. “That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

He admires it for a little longer, then walks over to turn on the shower. Steam fills the room and I straighten myself up, regaining control of my breathing and feeling him everywhere. He comes to stand in front of me, and when I look up at him, I still see that teasing look in his eyes.

“Don’t go anywhere. I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”

I LIE WITH MY head on his chest, both of us naked and breathless after round three. I can’t even count the number of times he’s made me come tonight, but my pussy is still tingling. I don’t see it stopping any time soon. But there’s a little voice in the back of my head reminding me of our fight.

The one that says we can’t keep fucking just to avoid talking about it.

Everything has been great from the moment we got back together, but now it feels like we’re constantly fighting. Like the shit with Monty lit a fuse we can’t put out. And to be brutally and vulnerably honest, it scares me. We’ve never been like this. Even during the time we were broken up, we were miserable but we weren’t fighting.

“Are we going to be okay?” I ask, breaking the silence, and there’s no way to hide the hint of fear in my voice.

He sighs and presses a kiss into my hair. “Always. As long as the entire world knows your mine.”

“Aw, I kept you a secret and you didn’t like that?” I tease, reminding him of a time not too long ago. “Mm-hm. Tell me more, Mr. Kettle.”

His fingers dig into my side as he tickles me, and the room fills with laughter while I beg him to stop.

Yeah. We’re going to be fine.