My mouth falls open, but nothing comes out. What the fuck do I say? I broke the rules, and now want you to fuck me after midnight for the rest of my birthdays? It’s a little much, right? My brain short-circuits while it tries to come up with something to say, but there’s nothing.
“Rhiannon?” He gives a nervous laugh. “Are you okay?” His voice is still a whisper, which makes me giggle because we’re the only people in the house.
I laugh again, and his forehead drops against my chin. “Can you at least let me in on the joke please? I’m starting to feel like I’m the butt of it.”
My heart sinks. Oh, no. Noooooo. “Rule twelve.”
A whoosh of breath from him warms my skin as his body relaxes. “Is that it?”
I nod. Somewhere over the last couple of months, I caught feelings for this man. And while I might have suspected, fought them, denied them even, lying here with his dick buried in me on my birthday, I can’t hide from them anymore.
“Welcome to the club.”
“What?” I screech. I move my head, but it catches against his, and we both recoil and hiss in pain. “Fuck! Sorry. But what?”
“In my defense, your rules were stupid. There’s no way I wasn’t going to develop feelings for you. Have you met you? You totally set me up to fail.” He sounds exasperated, like he’s trying to defend why he stole fresh baked biscuits from the counter.
He kisses me. “You were right there being all beautiful, and strong.” Another kiss. “I had no choice but to catch real feelings, Rhiannon.”
His words wrap themselves around my heart, and for reasons unbeknown to me, tears spring to my eyes.
“I’m just glad to hear you’re feeling something real between us too. I’ve been afraid to confess that your precious rules disintegrated into dust in case you beat me to death with your rugby boot. Those studs do some damage.”
That makes me laugh. “You make me sound so aggressive.”
It’s dark, but I can see the face he’s giving me in my head.
“Okay, fine. Yes. It would be like me to beat you to death with my rugby boot.” I shove his shoulder. “But if you’d opened your mouth and told me you were crossing the line, it might have made it easier for me too.”
He snorts. “Riiiiight. And who makes it easier for me?”
The man might have a point. Dad hates him, Taranis hates him, he thought I hated him, and his boss is pressuring him to write a story about me. The deck is kind of stacked against him.
I loop my hands behind his neck and pull his head toward mine until our noses touch. “So… we’re doing this? It’s a real thing? We’re giving this an official relationship title?”
He sighs. With his whole fucking body, this mansighs. “I didn’t want to have this discussion with my dick inside you, Rhiannon. But you clearly can’t shelve the topic long enough for me to make you scream my name as you come on my cock on your thirtieth birthday. So fine, let’s do this.”
He pushes himself up off me, but he’s still lying over me. The lamp clicks on, and he stares me dead in the eye. “Rhiannon Morrigan, will you be my girlfriend?”
The weight of his questioning stare makes my skin prickle with heat and my heart skip faster against my rib cage. His eyes are intense as he waits, sincere, hopeful. And a smile splits my face at how serious he looks. “I’d love to be your girlfriend.”
His body sags back onto mine. “Thank fuck for that. Now, can we get back to business, please?” He nudges my nose with his before he wiggles his brows. “I’m dying for the ride.”
CHAPTER 41
Robert
Another day, another Morrigan family event. Today’s, however, is my girlfriend’s birthday party, so I don’t feel quite so apprehensive about being surrounded by people who hate me. Or at least I wouldn’t, if she had let me give her my present this morning before she skipped out to meet her mum and sisters for afternoon tea.
Girlfriend.
I guess we’re really doing this.
My chest swells like I’m taking my first full breath of the day. The next one catches halfway, the way it always does when I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.
I should be happy. I am happy. But, it still feels like there’s a timer ticking somewhere I can’t see.
Instead of excitement, an uncomfortable ache cramps my stomach. I’ve decided that tomorrow, I’m going to sit her down and talk to her about my options for writing a new story, a better story. She already knows I’m under pressure from my boss, but I feel like if we put our heads together, we could collaborate on a fantastic story that ticks all the right boxes.
