Page 59 of Her Devil

“Oh, she doesn’t often drink white wine,” Tamsin says over the rim of her glass. “Must be just to piss you off.”

The front door slams, male voices carrying through as everyone pauses, Tamsin placing her glass on the table as Taylor and Wyatt round the corner, a handful of clothes and a case of beer in hand.

“Of course you called for backup,” I grumble, watching the girls abandon Nick for the new shiny entertainment.

“Not my doing, sugar,” he replies, coming up behind me and placing his hands on either side of me on the counter, his heat at my back and his cologne intoxicating, something altogether just Nick that can’t be washed off, apparently.

Tamsin and Taylor are already making out when Stephanie and Charlotte usher Wyatt past the kitchen. He drops a stack of clothes on the counter before plucking Nick’s phone from his back pocket with a wink, Aimee and Penelope fluffing up the cushions and pulling out blankets.

“I guess that means you guys are staying.”

“So it would seem.” The rough tenor of his voice hits me in places I really wish it didn’t, his lips brushing the shell of my ear as he reaches for his stuff, pressing his cock against my back. And it would be so easy to let this roll, to scoot up on the counter and pull him between my legs, to devour him much like Taylor is with Tamsin right now, and no one would even care.

But I can’t. I won’t.

Not only because Wyatt just turned up and I can still remember the whisper of his lips against mine, but because Nick is not the type of guy built to sit back and let his woman run the show. And I am not a trophy wife. Not now, not ever.

“You can change in my room,” I reply. “But you’d better be quick before they take this shit up a level.”

His dark chuckle rolls over me before he steps back, making his way to my room without looking back. Avoiding all thoughts of him stripping off, muscles rippling and abs contracting, I drain half the glass of wine and refill it before closing the fridge loudly and heading to the living room.

Our place was not made for a dozen people. Wyatt attempts to avoid being harassed, making himself comfortable on one of the armchairs, but as Aimee perches on the arm, I know he's out of luck.

She’s sweet, one of the nurturing ones of this mish-mash family; he could do worse. And yet his plea comes to me as I sit at the far end on one of the sofas.

"So, what are we watching?" I ask.

"Nothing girly," Taylor comments, dropping into the armchair beside me and pulling Tamsin down into his lap. "If I wanted to watch that we could have stuck it out at the house."

"And leave your friend here with six women and a cellar full of wine? I think not." Charlotte grins.

"Touche," Wyatt intervenes. "What have you got?"

They begin the tedious process of attempting to agree on something while I pull my phone out, scrolling through social media and waiting them out. They'll decide eventually.

I have no idea what they pick as the opening sequence starts, seriously wondering what's taking Nick so long in the bedroom, he was only changing, for God’s sake. But just as I'm about to jump up, the door closes behind me and an awareness prickles over my skin as I look around the room.

It's dark outside, nothing to be seen against the glare of the lights in here as I look from one full armchair to the other, the sofa full too.

"I'll grab you a chair," Aimee comments, getting up from beside Wyatt.

"No need," Nick replies, significantly closer than I anticipated as he places his wine glass down beside mine and scoops me up in his arms, taking my seat and placing me possessively in his lap.

I could get up and move, but there aren’t any other seats, and I’m not following Aimee’s lead as she grabs a cushion and throws it on the floor between Wyatt’s legs, leaning back against the chair.

Wyatt looks from her to me, raising an eyebrow in question as I shake my head. I can totally sit here unaffected, it’s fine. I continue scrolling, doing my best to ignore the hard planes beneath me as I get comfortable.

“Are you going to ignore me the whole time?” Nick whispers, pulling me closer.

“Yes,” I reply, attempting to shuffle out of his embrace and failing.

“What are we watching?”

I shrug, a squeak coming from Tamsin catching my attention before he plucks my phone from my fingers, opening a new message to a number I don’t know and texting it. “Hey, hot stuff.”

The vibration from his phone under my ass signals exactly whose number it is as he saves it in my phone. Another noise beside me has me on alert, sneaking a look at Tamsin and Taylor from the corner of my eye.

I type out a message, not pressing send as I know he’s looking over my shoulder anyway.Are they…?

---