Rule Breakers Fall Hardest (The Boys, #6)

by Micalea Smeltzer

That’s my kid. The thought is instinctual. One look at this tiny human, and I know in my gut he’s my child. The problem? He’s in my former professor’s arms. A woman I should’ve never touched. A woman who wasn’t mine to have. The worst part of all? Her husband is standing right beside her.

“Are you seriously trying to have a dick measuring contest with me? I assure you, I may be a girl, but mine’s bigger.”

Well, surprise, I do care. My kid is going to know me. End of discussion.

I don’t want my kid to ever think that I didn’t want to be there for him. I might not have planned on him, but he’s here, and I want to know him.

I want to fight for my son on my own … with Rosie’s help.

“I need you.” Without my permission, my heart does a somersault. Isn’t that what I always wanted? For him to need me the way I needed him? Remain strong.

“Is that what you want?” he asks from behind me. “Do you want me to get down on my knees and beg? Because I will.” I turn around in time to see him do just that. “Marry me, Rosie?”

“I … isn’t it too soon … honey?” He cocks his head to the side. “Darling, it’s never too soon when true love is involved. Come on, say yes. Make me the happiest man alive.”

Twelve-year-old me is screaming with glee because I’m kissing Daire Hendricks. Twenty-one-year-old-me hates that I like it.

She’s a sucker for love. The girl’s room is lined with romance books, and we’ve just handed her what looks like an epic love story that I’ve been keeping a secret.

“She’s dated most of my teammates. We figured it would be better to keep it quiet for a while.” And by dated, he means I’ve fucked them. I don’t date. Not for lack of trying, and not because I don’t want to. But guys only seem to want me for one thing. I enjoy sex as much as the next person, so it’s not like I’m going to deny myself.

“They’re diet pills.” His voice is higher than normal, and his eyes are wide. “Why would you need diet pills? Your body is perfect.”

“You can’t fall in love with me.” With a snort, I roll my eyes. “You don’t have to worry about me ever breaking that rule.” Not anymore, at least. “But the same applies to you. You can’t fall in love with me either.” Silently, he holds out his hand, and we shake on it.

“I know how you like your alcohol. Licked off the tits of whatever willing girl is throwing herself at you on any given night.”

“But I’m the slut. Have you ever wondered why guys like you, ones who fuck anything that walks, think that I’m the one with a problem? You and me, we’re the same.” “We’re nothing alike.”

“So you’re telling me you don’t like sex and haven’t had a lot of it with lots of different women? You’re the one who got your professor pregnant.”

Daire: Rosie? Me: Yup? Daire: Shut up and just accept it. Me: Okay.

“I’ve faked a million orgasms. Pretending to like you is nothing.” “Faked. Right.” He barks out a humorless laugh.

What would he think if I told him not a single guy has ever given me an orgasm? Not once. Not even with the ones who tried to get me there until I inevitably faked it just to get things over with. The only way I’ve ever gotten off is with the help of my trusty little toy.

Samuel. Sammy. I finally know his name. It’s not one I would have chosen, but somehow, it feels perfect.

I’m getting married today. It’s certainly not how I thought it would go. There’s nothing romantic about this, and even though I’ve never been in a serious relationship, I’m a bit of a romantic at heart. I’ve always thought about what it would be like to find that girl who’s my best friend. A woman I share everything with, laugh with and⁠— Jesus. Things used to be like that with Rosie.

Fuck me. My mouth goes dry and my heart just about leaps out of my chest. Rosie’s gorgeous. There’s no denying that on any given today. But in this moment, she’s fucking radiant. Her dark hair is pulled back into some sort of low bun thing, with a few shorter pieces framing her face. Her lips are lined in a vibrant red, and her white dress makes her tan skin almost golden.

I swear time stands still as I seek out her mouth. My intent is to press a quick kiss to her lips, but a wave of heat washes through me the second our lips touch. More. I need more. Not just more; I need everything.

I don’t stop. I can’t stop, and I never want to.

I kissed her and I liked it. I more than liked it. Worse yet, I want to do it again and I can’t. It’s Rosie.

I should’ve known better. If there’s one thing Daire has been consistent about for the last few years, it’s embarrassing me.

Once I’ve got my keycard, I head back out and make my way to the mall. In the first store I come across, I change out of my dress and into a new pair of jeans and a light-weight sweater. From there, I continue to add to the bill. New boots at another store, a cute dress from a third, and a purse I’ve been eyeing for the last year but didn’t want to pull the trigger on.

The irony here isn’t lost on me. All I wanted when I was a little girl was to marry Daire and become Mrs. Hendricks. Now I’ve done it, but this scenario looks nothing like how I pictured it would.

Being rich isn’t an excuse to be a dick, my dad used to say.

“Well, don’t you look like a pathetic piece of shit?” When I look up, I’m met with a scathing look from Bertie. She’s clutching a textbook to her chest, her knuckles white like she’s gripping it hard to keep from beating me over the head with it.

“How could you embarrass her like that?” She snaps her fingers in front of my face, forcing me to look at her. “Rosie is one of the nicest people I’ve ever met. She’s kind and caring and better than you could ever be. You two had me convinced you were madly in love, but you both lied.” She clutches the book again. “Why did she really marry you?” I look away, jaw clenching.

“You better fix this,” she hisses. “She doesn’t deserve to be treated like shit by you or anyone else.”

While we’re waiting for the elevator, he taps his fingers against the top box, drawing my attention to the band on his finger. He’s not mine, but man does seeing that claim of possession fill me with a weird sort of satisfaction.

“The sooner you learn happy wife, happy life, the better.”

Without my permission, my eyes drop to the swells of her breasts. Her position causes them to press against her sweater, emphasizing them. I shouldn’t be staring at her boobs, but I can’t seem to look away.

She hops off the counter and tucks her phone into the back pocket of her jeans. Jeans that hug her ass like a second skin. Stop staring!

Rosie might be a strong girl, but words can cut the deepest, and I know mine did just that when I said I hated her.

She wipes the corner of her mouth with her finger. It comes away with a drop of sauce that she quickly licks away. And now my dick is hard.

Within minutes of her departure, the room is too quiet, and I find myself missing her presence.

Daire sputters awake at the commotion, arms flailing and dick … dick swinging, because apparently, he sleeps naked. Stop staring at this dick! But I can’t look away. I’m dickmatized. Dickstruck. Dick— “What the fuck, Rosie?” he bellows, breathing heavily with his hands fisted at his sides, ready to fight.

Daire is a big guy. He’s an athlete, so he kind of has to be. Hockey is a hard sport, and aggressive too. I’m relatively tall, so I’m not used to feeling small, but I’m absolutely dwarfed by his hulking form. Forget my early estimate. This guy has to be six-five or even six-six. He’s a beast. His thighs are thick, his legs dusted with light blond hair that grows darker around his very big cock. The thing is nowhere near hard and looks like it could split me in half.

I take him in, perusing the perfectly sculpted planes of his chest. He’s big everywhere. Built like a Viking.

He pinches his brow, and my treacherous eyes use his momentary distraction to get another peek at his cock.

It’s quiet between us for so long I’m convinced he’s fallen asleep. But then, from the darkness, he says, “I’ll take a picture for you.” I roll over so I’m facing him. “Huh?” “A dick pic. That way you can look your fill any time you want.” With a squeak, I roll away again and bury my head under my blanket. “That won’t be necessary.”

We need to at least try to get along. Think you can do that? Need I remind you, I’m doing you a favor, not the other way around? I also really miss sex.” The last part she tacks on has me snickering. “The eyeful you got of my dick didn’t satiate you?” “After I stopped gagging? Hardly.” “Please.” I fight my smile. “You were drooling, but I could certainly make you gag on it if you’d like.”

The door opens before we get to the top of the stairs, and Roman comes running out with a hoot of joy. But it’s not me he’s happy to see. He throws his arms around Rosie, almost tackling her to the ground.

Jealousy burns in my chest. Not because he’s touching Rosie, and I’m hit with a wave of possessiveness over her. It definitely can’t be that. No, I’m jealous because he’s my brother, yet he’s more excited to see her.

He pulls her out of Roman’s arms and envelops her in a hug. I swear he even sniffs her hair. Cash holds her a little too long, at least in my opinion. Clearing my throat, I step closer and wait for him to let her go, but he doesn’t.

“You smell good,” she tells him. “New cologne?” “Maybe.” He kisses her cheek. Okay, now I’m pissed.

Rage courses through me, heating my blood, as I stride closer. “Hands off my wife, Cash.”