Page 51 of Pretty Little Threats

My dick twitches in my pants.

The priest clears his throat.

Fucking cockblock.

Her lips are as soft as clouds, and I want to revel in the warmth her lashing tongue inspires. With one heavy pulse, all the blood in my body rushes to my cock. Breaking the kiss is harder than it should be. Rose is addicting, and that’sa problem. As I pull back, her eyes search my face, trying to pick me apart with the same need that drives how I want to devour her. The way I would happily bend her over the pulpit and fuck her while the priest watches should tell me how much trouble I’ve gotten myself into.

But there’s no going back now.

sixteen

ROSE

My lips are still tinglingwhen Dare leads me back to the limo. The ring on my finger is heavy and foreign as I lift my hand to stare at it. The oval diamond is beautiful. Huge and expensive. This is a ring meant for someone you love. The person you want to spend the rest of your life with. It’s too much for our sham of a marriage.

Dare’s steps slow.

Glancing over, I find him watching me, his dark brown eyes a storm of desire and possession. A tingle of awareness shoots down my spine because, with a single look, Dare reminds me of what it was like to be at his mercy, something I liked far too much.

Tucking my hand behind my back, I keep my expression neutral and lift my chin. “What?”

He chuckles and shakes his head. Like I amuse him. Let’s see how funny he thinks I am when I rip his world apart.

“Dare,” Frank calls before we can get into the back of the vehicle.

Dare holds my gaze, as if knowing what I’m plotting, and his smile simply deepens. “Frank,” he greets the man when he reaches us, finally looking away. Remy also joins us, eyeing me like I’m some type of monster.

Since when did I become the bad guy?

Irritation is hot in my chest, but I keep my breathing steady and focus on Frank instead. “What, no cake?”

Frank scowls. “I only bake for my friends.”

I tip my head and grin. “You have friends?”

“Fuck you,” Frank snaps.

“Don’t talk to my wife that way,” Dare murmurs, the softness of his voice doing nothing to hide the sharp edges of his words.

My heart skips. I’ve dreamed of having that sort of protectiveness. To have someone put me first.

Rearing back, Frank looks from me to my new husband, clearly surprised that Dare gives a damn how people treat me. “Dare?—”

Dare stares the man down. “She’smine, Frank. You’ll talk to her with the same amount of respect that you talk to me. Understood?”

Something akin to pleasure shoots through my veins, but I studiously remind myself that, no matter what he says, I’m definitely not his. This is all pretend, and eventually, it has to end. I simply like the stupefied look on Frank’s face.

Frank sighs and nods in understanding. “All right. I’m sorry,” he says to me.

I arch an eyebrow. “It’s fine. I didn’t want your cake, anyway. You’d probably try to poisonme.”

Dare’s chuckle rolls over my skin like a soft caress. “How was the catering gig?”

“Fine. There was a minor hiccup, but Remy took care of it.” Frank gestures to the big guy standing next to him.

Dare’s bodyguard is a baker too? Squinting, I give him a once-over, trying to picture him wearing an apron. His knuckles are bruised and covered in scabs. There are scars littering the backs of his hands. I draw my eyes up his broad and thick body. If this man is a baker, I’m a nun.

“Good.” Dare notices me studying Remy and sighs. “My wife is tired. I’m taking her home.” He grabs my hand and pulls me toward the limo. The driver doesn’t get out to help us, again. That’s twice in one night.

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