Page 93 of My Rose

Maybe she’d wake up and snap out of whatever trance she was in, but for now, she was mine. And I was going to revel in that for as long as I could.

Her coconut scent enveloped me as she hugged me from behind. “You spent too much on me. I don’t know if I can accept it all.”

I took her hand from my chest and raised it to my lips. “You’re worth every penny, Rose.”

As much as I wanted to fuck Rose senseless as I sat behind her in the tub, rubbing her shoulders to ease the pain from being suspendedthe night before, I couldn’t stop just breathing her in. Being with her.

She rolled her neck and shoulders as I worked my thumbs into her muscles, easing her aches while mine intensified beneath the water. Fuck, it was intoxicating.Shewas intoxicating. She invaded every black hole in my body and filled it with her physical and mental beauty. I couldn’t find it in me to care if I ever went back to VanAndrews, back to that room with the chair that my father ordered to be filled with more than just bad businessmen, or back to anything related to what I’d been raised to do.

All I wanted was to wake up to her, to write and read, and know that she was around the corner, loving me as much as I loved her. I wanted to give her my name so we could make it something new, something better than what my father had tarnished. I wanted to throw out her damn birth control pills and fuck her raw all day long, filling her with my cum and keeping her that way even as her stomach swelled with my children. We’d raise the next line of Andrews—give them a new outlook on what being an Andrews could and should be about.

“You’re quiet,” she whispered, arching her back to look up at me.

I kissed her forehead. “Just thinking.”

She turned, the soap on her skin slick as I held her to me between my parted legs. “Do you celebrate Christmas?”

“I do. Usually, it’s just the work party and then Rhonda and I in the house. Dean and Clarissa usually come by, at some point. Why?”

Her fingers traced the lines of the rose tattoo. “Clarissa comes over?”

I smirked, gripping her hand from my chest and squeezing it. “Is that a hint of jealousy I hear?”

Her cheeks pinked over. “No, I just—I don’t know. Isn’t that weird?”

“I never really felt anything for her. It was forced from the start—testing an arranged marriage type of situation.”

She gawked. “What? You were supposed to marry her?”

“Our fathers hoped that would be the case—or, rather, mine did. Marriage to the other side of VanAndrews means complete control of the company. But I was free from that the first time I caught her cheating. Adultery doesn’t look good in the media, so she actually helped me out quite a bit by fucking that worthless piece of shit you called a friend.” I yanked her closer, pulling her by the hand she no longer controlled as I gripped it tighter. “Now, tell me. What’s on your mind about Christmas?”

She pulled away, the soap easing her escape as she dipped under the water and blew up on the bubbles, blowing them to my chest. “Because I usually celebrate with my grandparents, and then we go to the cemetery.”

“We can do that,” I said. “New traditions sound good to me.”

She arched a brow, then added, “What about the work party? Is that something we’re doing or do I have to hide here for the rest of my life?” She giggled, telling me she didn’t believe that was really a thought I had when I first brought her here. But since Dean called this morning, I’d thought back on what he’d said to me in the club. He said I was turning to the wrong people for help—even thoughmostly thosepeoplewere named Molly and Jack, and weren’t real people at all.

“He usually doesn’t show up until the very end, if ever. We should be good to go if you want to. It’s at the Met again this year, so you might be able to meet the director.”

“What if your dad shows up?”

I leaned forward and pulled her flush to me, wrapping her thighs around my hips. “You let me worry about that. If you want to go, we’ll go.”

“He can’t possibly do anything to me in public, right?” I started tracing the line of her spine, her wet hair dripping down as the seconds between that question passed. “Right, Briggs?”

“Right,” I replied, trying to force the thought of her being hurt by my father from my mind. He tried to kill her just for taking up so much space in my mind, and that was before I was the one who was supposed to take over the company. But, he craved control. “You’ll be safe with me. Always.”

She bit down on her lip, scanning the walls. “How did we get here?” she asked, though the question on her face seemed to askwhy the fuck am I still here, risking it all, with you?

“We fell too hard,” I answered. “Like Pyramus and Thisbe.”

“Most people just say,Romeo and Juliet.No one knows who those two are.”

I leaned forward and brushed my lips over hers. “But you do.”

She pulled back and rolled her eyes. “I’m one person.”

“You’re the only person that matters to me.”

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