Striking (Red Lips & White Lies Book 7)

What a fucking year this week has been.

—Bellamy’s Secret Thoughts

I’m not sure why I’m surprised my best friend is unhinged. She’s been that way since the day we literally ran into each other at college. Books fell, papers flew, and my iPhone screen cracked, and what did Cait do?

She quoted Stepbrothers.

She looked at me with a goofy smile as we both picked up our phones. “Did we just become best friends?”

Unhinged, but I love her.

Looks like it’s time to bite the Caitlin-Beneventi-Sinclair-sized bullet.

Lucky for me, she’s tiny.

One quick swipe of my finger, and the FaceTime barely has time to ring before she appears. A cup of tea in hand and a menacing look in her eye. “Quick. Which of your brothers is your favorite?”

“What?” Like I said—unhinged. “I don’t have a favorite. I love both pains in my ass equally.”

“Huh.” She scrunches her face up. “I always thought it was Ares.”

“What are you talking about?” I curl up in what’s quickly become my favorite chair and wrap a blanket around my shoulders. “He might be your favorite.”

“Listen, I can’t help it if Ares is hotter than Cross. Anyway . . . If you’d been kidnapped, they wouldn’t have told you to answer that way. So . . . are you ready to tell me why you’re hiding out in Mornea?”

“Who’s hiding?” Her husband asks from what sounds like a room away.

Guess he missed the hot brother comment.

“Nobody, babe. Just catching up with Bellamy. I’m going to soak in the tub. You’re on baby duty, kay? Love you.” She steps inside her bathroom and closes the door before she turns on the water and sits on the edge of the tub. “Okay, I’ve got maybe fifteen minutes before he comes in here hoping for a boob shot. Now explain to me how you haven’t gotten fired from the hospital yet. And why your overprotective brothers haven’t put out an APB. And please tell me Rhys Windsor looks as good out of his clothes as he does in them.”

“I love you, you crazy bitch.” She beams like I just told her she’s the most beautiful woman in the room. Which she always is. “Stop worrying. You asked for proof of life, and I’ve given it to you. No need to send in any calvary.”

“B . . . you’ve been blowing me off for over a week. That’s not like you.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. Things are just . . . complicated. I need some space to figure a few things out. I know you get that.” My heart hurts because I’m about to be a really bad friend. “That’s what you needed when you were going through all the Callen stuff last year. And I gave it to you.”

Bringing up when she and Callen broke up is a low blow, but there’s no way to admit I have no clue what I’m doing or what I’m going to do. Not when I’ve had my life planned out since I was stuck in a hospital, praying I’d get a chance to live to my eighteenth birthday.

“I guess I did. But just remember you only gave me a little time before you refused to leave me alone. This is your last warning, Bellamy. Next time, I really am calling your brothers, and then we’re all hopping on a plane.”

“I get it.”

There’s a knock on the door behind Cait, and she laughs. “Okay, I guess I underestimated his desire for boobs.”

“Not just any boobs, Cait. Your boobs. Go flash your husband and get a good orgasm out of it.” Footsteps alert me to someone in the other room before Rhys appears with a sexy smirk on his face.

Of course he heard that.

Caitlin cocks a brow. “He won his game yesterday. I guarantee I’ll get at least three orgasms before I pass out tonight. Love you.”

I keep my eyes trained on an amused Rhys and smile before ending the call.

“Caitlin?” he asks as he scoops me out of the chair, then moves to the couch and sits, cradling me in his lap. We might not spend enough time talking, but what we lack in verbal communication, we definitely make up for with physical communication.

As if on auto pilot, I loosen his tie and unbutton his top two buttons. “She’s right, you know. I have a job and a life I’m ignoring. I’ve got to deal with both eventually.”

The admission leaves me feeling hollow inside, and I’m not sure why, but I think it has something to do with the idea of leaving Mornea. Of leaving him. It makes no sense, but it’s there all the same.noveldrama

“Even if you were to go back to Kroydon Hills, you couldn’t go back to your job, love. It would be far too dangerous. Once the world knows we’re married, you’ll need around-the-clock security.” His fingers twist in my hair, and I swear I watch the tension ease from his shoulders at the small act of intimacy

I love knowing I can give him that.

Even if I’m going to take it away with my next breath.

I run my fingers over his temple, playing with the tiny flecks of golden-blond dotted with the tiniest bit of grey. “I’ve given you the week, Rhys. I’ve stood by while you dealt with everything that went into the funeral and your new reality. I’ve stayed hidden, even from my friends while they were here. I’ve kept my siblings and my best friend at arm’s length. Which isn’t easy, but it’s what we needed. I’m sorry, but this conversation can’t wait any longer. I know you have so much on your plate right now, but I don’t think that’s going to change, and I can’t keep living in limbo.”

“Fuck, Bellamy. I didn’t realize—” He drops his forehead to mine. “You’re right. Let’s talk.”

Well, that’s not what I was expecting to hear.

I’m not sure I’ve ever dated anyone who’s willing to take ownership when he’s wrong.

Guess that’s the difference between dating boys and dating a man.

Not that I’d call getting drunkenly married dating.

“You’re going to have to let me off your lap, Your Highness.” I press my hand to his chest and push back, but his arms tighten around me.

“Why would I want to do that?”

The teasing tone to his voice surprises me and puts me at ease at the same time. “Because I can’t think when you’re this close, Rhys.”

He drops his hands immediately, and I force my legs to work. Because as much as I want to think, I like having his hands on me even more.

Maybe one day I’ll understand the magnetic pull we have between us.

Too strong to ignore.

But is it enough to build a marriage on?

“Tell me what you want, Bellamy.” He sounds so sure. Of himself. Of me. “I’ll give you whatever I can.”

“But not a divorce?” I regret the words the minute they’re out of my mouth, and that might be the most confusing thing. “You can’t give me that.”

His body stiffens as a mask slides in place. One I haven’t seen before. “Is that what you really want?”

I want to say yes. But the problem is I realize that’s no longer true. Not exactly.

“I don’t know what I want. I wish we could explore an us without being married, but we both screwed that up already, didn’t we?” I step between his spread legs and meet those sapphire-blue eyes.

“What do you know, little bee?” His sleep-deprived voice scratches along my skin, and I want to take his hand in mine and force him into bed for a week until the exhaustion is cleared from his eyes and the world has settled around us.

“I know I’ve never wanted anyone else the way I want you. I realize it doesn’t make any sense because we barely know each other.” I drop to my knees in front of him and cup his face in my hands. “But part of me doesn’t care.”

“Nothing about my life is ever going to be easy, Bellamy. Life as my queen won’t look anything like a fairytale.”

“My life has never been easy, Rhys. I’m not a pampered princess, and I wouldn’t want to be treated like one now. Would I be able to work?”

He leans his face into my hands and kisses my palm. “At a hospital—no. As the chair of my mother’s foundation—yes. You could patronize as many worthy charitable foundations as you want to. You’d never be lacking for ways to make a difference in people’s lives. You’d matter. What you’d do could affect millions.”

Millions . . . I’m not sure I can truly comprehend that kind of scope.

Not yet.

“Would your country even accept me? I’m an American.” The fear of rejection has always been something I’ve battled, and that was on a one-on-one level. The idea that an entire country could hate me is terrifying.

“I don’t think it would be easy at first. You’re new and different. They’d have to get to know you so they could fall in love with you. But I have no doubt they will love you.”

That’s a word I’m nowhere near ready to toss around.

Even if my heart melts the tiniest bit as the walls I’ve built around it crack just a little more.

Wait— Another thought hits me like an arrow to the heart. “Are you even allowed to marry a commoner?”

“I’m more of an ask for forgiveness not permission man, love. It’s already done. You are my wife. My queen. And if you’re ready, I’ll speak to the high council tomorrow.”

My heart races in my chest.

Am I ready for this? Is he?

There’s only one way to find out.

“Are you ready for that?’ I ask softly. “To tell them we’re married? For everyone to know? Be sure, Rhys. Because if I do this . . . If I give up everything I know and do this, and then you change your mind . . . It would destroy me.” I’m not sure I’ve ever bared my soul in quite this way before, but whatever protective instincts I have left kick in.

He reaches in his pocket and pulls out the wedding band I haven’t seen on him since the morning after our wedding. “I made my choice, Bellamy. It’s you. Once this ring is back on my finger, it will never come off. It’s up to you.”

Some people are born leaders.

They inspire others to follow.

To trust in them.

To believe.

I suck in a deep breath and slide the band over his finger.

“Your Royal Highness . . .”

Rhys

Bellamy’s words are shaky but so fucking sexy as she kneels in front of me. A white cable-knit sweater hits her mid-thigh, falling off both delicate shoulders. Long white matching socks stop right above her knee, and I want to fuck her all night with just those on.

She runs her hands down the front of my shirt, shoving it off my shoulders, her eyes shining with mischief.

Oh fuck.

I gather her face in my hands. “You are a fucking vision like this.”

She simply purses her lips and smiles as she pulls my belt loose, then pops the button on my pants. “Call your council, Rhys. Tell them whatever you want. But I have a few more rules.”

“Bellamy, love, you have me at a disadvantage. You’re on your knees, inches from my cock. I can’t really think straight,” I half laugh, half wheeze as all the blood from my head rushes to my cock.

And my little bee just licks her damn lips.

“Rule number one—you tell me everything. No keeping me in the dark. If I’m doing this, I need to be informed. I refuse to be blindsided and look like a fool on the world’s stage. Can you promise me that?”

“Everything I’m able to tell you . . . yes. But there will be some things⁠—”

“I’m not asking for state secrets.” She shakes her head. “Just things pertaining to me.”

I run my thumb over her lip, and she licks the pad before sucking it into her mouth. “And I can work with the foundation?”

“Yes. The foundation and anything else you’d like to take on for the crown as my wife.”

Bellamy pushes me back against the couch and flutters her long lashes. “There has to be some kind of out if this doesn’t work.” She runs her hands along my quads, and I groan. “I’m not sure if we can build a successful marriage on great sex alone.”

I shift in my seat, my pants growing uncomfortably tight against my thickening cock. “I’m fairly certain many kings before me built theirs on less, love.”

“We’ll see. But that’s not an answer.”

Quite the shrewd little negotiator. Why is that sexy as hell?

“Six months,” I growl and lift my ass as she tugs my pants and boxer briefs down my thighs. “The coronation will be in six months. We’ll announce our marriage and play the part of the doting, devoted couple leading up to it. The world will have to think we’re madly in love for this to work. But if at the end of the six months, you want nothing to do with me, you can go back to America before the coronation as my wife but not my queen. I’ll send you back with around-the-clock security and do the best I can to keep you safe. But I can’t give you a divorce.”

She freezes, an uncertain hesitation in those beautiful caramel eyes. “Really?”

“It wouldn’t be easy, but I want you to be happy here. I want to give you everything. Give this a chance. Give us a chance, and if you aren’t happy, you can have your out. We’ll figure out exactly what that looks like if we have to.”

“Thank you” falls quietly from her lips. “I appreciate it.”

I groan as she slides her hand down my shaft, sending a chill down my spine. “Are you going to show me just how much, little bee?”

“Yes, Your Highness,” she smiles seductively. But when she looks up at me through those long, dark lashes, any smart remark I may have had dies.

“Bellamy . . .” I groan and gather her soft hair in my hand and wrap it around my fist, fighting my own willpower to stay still when my mind screams to claim her. To fuck her senseless until any thought of leaving vanishes.

Slowly, she drags her tongue from the base of my cock all the way up to the tip and swirls her tongue around it.

“Even across an ocean, you’ll still be mine. . .” I growl as my blood roars in my ears.

“But will you be mine, Rhys?”

The question tears a visceral reaction from me. “You’re fucking right, I’m yours. Now show me how you kneel for your king.”

I tug her head back and nearly black out as Bellamy swallows me down her throat, her eyes never leaving mine.

She hums, and her eyes water as she works her way down the full length of my cock.

“Such a good girl,” I growl as a pretty pink flush works its way up her neck and face.

There’s no way I’m ever letting her go.