“Come on, kitten. Work that little pussy of yours. I want your hot cream coating my dick before I fuck you full of me, fill you up until you’re dripping with my cum, your thighs sticky with my ownership.”
Oh, god.
My body tightens unbearably before a cry of release rises from my chest and pleasure washes over me. Bliss from my orgasm is followed by the warm splash of Rhys coming.Thank goodness for birth control.We couldn’t even stop to grab a condom before falling onto each other.
Hugging him close, I hum in satisfaction, a zen kind of haze settling over me. My muscles slowly relax, and love for himblooms greater in my heart. It doesn’t matter if it’s too soon. “And you say you don’t believe in love,” I tease, trying to catch my breath.
Rhys stiffens in my grasp. “What are you talking about? I don’t.”
Rolling my eyes, I lazily list all of my points. “You say love’s a feeling, but it’salsoan action. One that you’re very good at showing. You always check in on me with texts at work. You volunteered to help me run the boutique’s booth at Hearts Ablaze last night before your dad messaged, despite calling the entire event, and I quote ‘bullshit.’ Hate to break it to you, Rhys, but you show love in all the ways that count. Even if you refuse to name it.”
“Goddammit.” He runs a hand through his hair and backs up, a look of frustration crossing his features. “Are you serious right now?”
The euphoria of my orgasm fades as his rigid demeanor registers.Shit.I should’ve kept my mouth shut, instead of getting all sappy on him. Damn orgasm endorphins. They left me unfiltered, overcome with happiness.
“We agreed to try and understand the other person’s point of view,” he mutters. “I knew it was too good to be true. Knew you wouldn’t be able to resist twisting things around to mean love. To mean those damnedheart sparks. Every woman I’ve ever known has done the same thing. What you all fail to understand is that respect or kindness or fucking orgasms doesn’t equal love.” The last word ends with a spiteful shout, and my body freezes in dread.
“I’m not saying you love me,” I backtrack, afraid I’ve stepped way over the line.
“But you think it’ll happen. In your mind, you’ve rationalized that I’m just working my way towards it, and I’m fucking not. Iwill fuck you. I’ll take care of you. But I am not yourheart spark. Is that clear?”
“Crystal.” Hopping down from the table he just fucked me on, I bat away the tears threatening to fall.God, this plan was stupid.I’mstupid.“I’ve gotta go. Hannah’s expecting me for more wedding planning. I’ll catch you later.”
“Willow…” Regret enters his tone, but it’s too late for apologies or retractions. He spoke his truth, whether he meant for it to come out so harshly or not. And he has a right to be angry, I suppose. My words ran away from me. I voiced things I shouldn’t have.
The door to his forge slams shut behind me, and I hear the rattle of metal crashing together as another epithet roars from inside.
How could an afternoon that started so well turn sour so quickly?
Because of your big mouth and stupid heart.
CHAPTER EIGHT
RHYS
“So, you fucked it up with Willow, hmm?”
“Hannah told you?”
“Yeah, I got an earful about what an insensitive jerk you are. Thanks for that, by the way.” King lightly punches me on the shoulder in retribution. We’re in his home office since an urgent problem came up with his job, and I figured I could use a break from my lonely cabin. Especially after the fall out with Willow.
Lifting my chin in apology, the sketch of his and Hannah’s wedding bands takes shape on the notepad resting on my knee.
“Let me ask you something I’ve been curious about for a while,” King says, resting his arms on the table covered in folders and loose sheets of paper. “How do you feel about your dad?”
My body jerks in surprise at the random comment. “My dad?”
“Yeah, if you don’t believe in love, does that extend to him, too? And if you’re not saying ‘I love you, Dad,’ how do you express yourself otherwise.?”
“That’s different. I trust my dad. Respect him. That’s enough.”
“Seriously?” King scoffs.
A rogue line appears on the band for Hannah, and I roughly erase it. Annoyed by this line of questioning, I admit, “Fine, I love my dad. Are you happy now? But it’s not the same. You’re trying to get into the semantics of romantic love versus familiallove, and it doesn’t matter. I may love my dad, but I refuse to love like him. Refuse to believe people haveheart sparks.”
“So this is about your mom.”
Tossing my pencil aside, my hand flexes in reaction to his knowing tone. I wish I was in my forge. I wish I had a hammer in my hand to release the sudden rise of chaotic energy in my veins. “What if it is? She’s caused enough drama for my family to know I want no part of her beliefs,” I spit out. “She called my dad herheart spark, claimed to love him, then dumped him for her next true love. While poor Dad still pines for her years later. It’s sad and painful, and I’m not falling prey to the same thing.”
