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He picks his coffee back up and takes a long sip. “What kind of answer are you looking for? The honest one or the one that makes you feel better about sucking my dick?”
My jaw tightens. “The honest one. I feel fine about what we did last night.”
“You should, beautiful. You have nothing to be embarrassed about, and I’m sure my dad took good care of you. If he didn’t, he’s a selfish asshole, and I can fix that.”
My cheeks burn. “He did. You never have to worry about that.” Why the fuck did I say that?
“Good to know. Since we both know that isn’t going to be the last time that happens.” He sets the mug down. “And the answer to your previous question is no. I don’t want any of this. I mean besides a good fuck, of course. But that’s not how this works, and we both know that.”
“Then why did you agree?”
“Because my dad asked me to.” He says it flatly. No resentment there, just stating a fact. “He’s done everything for me my whole life. Protected everything we have. And has dealt with more than any man should have to face. He will always be my best friend. If this is what we need to do for the family, then it’s what I’m going to fucking do.”
I want to ask him about what Rhett’s been through, but I know he won’t tell me. We weren’t raised the same. Ryker grew up with a father who is his best friend, and he’d walk through fire for him without asking why. Even if that includes marrying a stranger and having children with her because the Council demands it. The contrast between the type of father Harrison Lockwood was and Rhett Bradley makes my throat tighten. I swallow it down before it shows on my face.
“So you’d do anything he asked you to.”
“Within reason.”
“So sharing women with your father is within reason?”
His eyes narrow. He’s not offended, but he knows I’m pushing. “If you want to know about who my dad has fucked, you’re going to have to ask him.”
“I’m just trying to figure out who the fuck you are. I’m going to spend the rest of my life with you. I’d like to know who I’m dealing with.”
He’s quiet for a moment, and I can see him deciding how much to give me. “I know that fucking women with my dad sounds fucked up, but it’s not a big deal. Everything in our world revolves around sex and power. But you’re not just some woman we picked up to use for a night. You know that, I know that, and he sure as fuck knows that.”
“Because I’m supposed to marry you?”
“Because he fucking loves you.” Ryker says it like it’s not a major revelation while the words make my heart about to pound out of my chest. “I know my father, and he’s never looked at anyone the way he looks at you. Not even close.”
The words land in my chest and sit there, warm and terrifying. I don’t respond because I don’t trust my voice. I’m not going to get emotional in front of this man I barely know, even if I’ve already sucked his dick and I’m going to fuck him too.
“I don’t know what to say to that.”
He picks up his mug again. “I’m just making sure you know the stakes. Because if you fuck with him, I will make your life very difficult. And I don’t mean in a fun way.”
There it is, the dangerous part of every Raven man. Ryker Bradley isn’t the easygoing, unbothered son who rolls with whatever his father decides. He protects what’s his.
“I’m not fucking with him.” I hold Ryker’s stare, and I mean every word. But Ryker doesn’t need to hear what I feel for his dad. That’s between Rhett and me.
He watches me for a long moment. Whatever he sees in my face must satisfy him, because the tension in his jaw releases and he grabs a banana from the counter.
“Good.” He peels it and takes a bite. “Then we don’t have a problem. At least not about that.”
“I do have one question about last night, though.” I never did master the art of keeping my mouth shut.
He chews and waits for me to continue.
“Does it not bother you? If we marry and I keep fucking your dad? Like this is all kinds of fucked up.”
“It is fucked up.” He doesn’t sugarcoat it and shrugs. “But this world, the Society, it’s all fucked up. It doesn’t bother me, Laine. I know who my father is. And I know what you are to him, even if he doesn’t know it yet.”
“And what am I to you?” I need to know. Because if I’m going to let this man inside me—and we both know that’s where this is heading—I need to understand what it means to him. I don’t want either of us to get confused about who I belong to.
He takes his time with the answer. “You’re the woman I’m going to marry because that’s what needs to happen. And I’m going to fuck you because we need to provide an heir. I’m not going to pretend you’re not attractive. Fucking you will be no hardship, beautiful. But I’m not going to fall in love with you. That’s not what this is.”
“Fucking you isn’t a hardship for me either.” I mean it, even as my entire face burns from saying that out loud.
