Rule Breakers Fall Hardest (The Boys, #6)

by Micalea Smeltzer

“That’s right, baby. Ride my face.”

iced shaken espresso

Daire throws his arms up. “This is about Cash? I should’ve known. Why are you listening to anything he says? He’s jealous because I got the girl. Is it not obvious to you how I feel about her?”

“How can you love someone so much when you don’t even know them?” Daire asks his dad as Sammy wraps a tight fist around his index finger.

I’m falling in love with my fake wife.

Three of us. A family. My family. I like the sound of that way too much.

Mother Dearest: His first-born son should’ve been yours, Rosemary.

“Our new mascot is pretty cute, don’t you think?” Cree holds Sammy out to me.

Me: I’m not falling into that trap. You probably already know what you really want. Rosie: Five Guys? Me: I’m not opposed to sharing, but Five Guys seems like a lot. Rosie: DAIRE Rosie: No food for you.

Though I have recently developed a kink for making my wife come. Watching her face flush and the way her body shakes all over. I’m going to lose my shit when I finally get to sink my cock inside her and watch her come on my dick.

I’ve only ever heard women talk about baby fever, but I think I’m experiencing it right now. I could have a million more of these.

“I missed you.” She smacks a loud kiss on his cheek. “Were you good for your daddy?” My stomach flops around like a fish out of water at the sight in front of me.

Then I’m hit with a vision of Sammy in a few years, with more kids running around. Ones with dark hair and Rosie’s attitude, and fuck, I want it. But does she want it too? Does she want me?

But we let a miscommunication tear us apart once, and it took years to find our way back to one another. There’s no way I’ll let that happen again, so that means I have to be honest about my feelings. And soon.

“We’ve established that you missed Sammy, but what about me?” Rosie looks me up and down slyly. “What about you is it that you think is so miss-able?”

“A wound straight to the heart.” She uses the spoon to clean sweet potato puree off Sammy’s face. “You’re the one that asked.”

“So you didn’t miss me at all? Not even a little bit?” She spares me a glance, lips twitching with a desire to smile. “Maybe a smidge. Like the size of my pinky nail. If that.” “Well, baby,” I lower my voice as I lean into her, brushing my lips over her cheek, “I missed you a whole lot.”

She wants me as badly as I want her.

My favorite item of clothing to draw? Wedding dresses. Particularly dresses I envisioned myself wearing on the day I married Daire. God, I was delusional.

“Do you always barge into people’s rooms without knocking?” He lowers the page and arches a brow at me. “When I’m lonely and want to snuggle my wife, yes.”

I slide the drawing into my bedside table drawer. Right next to my vibrator. Very appropriate.

“You’re the one who told me not to fall in love with you. I’m just following your rule, Daire.”

“Fuck that stupid rule.”

“You’re just saying that because you’ve been celibate for months and you’re horny. I get it. You’d probably fuck a cactus at this point if it wouldn’t hurt. I know this has an expiration date and⁠—” He puts his hand over my mouth.

“Fuck what I said before. You and me?” His Adam’s apple bobs, eyes skating over my face with an intensity that sends a shiver down my spine. “We’re the real deal. We always were.”

“Daire⁠—” He slants his mouth over mine, silencing me.

“You know I’m right,” he murmurs between kisses. “I’m sorry it took me so long to see. If you want me to stop, I will, but fuck, Rosie, I don’t want to. I want you so bad.”

Losing him once was heartbreaking. Losing him twice? Devastating.

“Baby,” he murmurs. I close my eyes at the tone of his voice—the understanding. “I’m not going anywhere.” The assurance is genuine, pleading.

“Not again. Do you feel this?” He grabs my hand and presses it against his rapidly beating heart. “It’s yours. No one else’s.” He cups my cheek, inhaling the breath I exhale. “I love you.”

Daire Hendricks loves me. My husband loves me. Love. Love. Love. Those words echo like a pinball through my skull. My heart bursts at the notion, my lungs burning with the need to respond.

“You love me?” “That’s what I said, Rosie girl.” “Have you ever told another girl you love her?”

“Never.” His eyes, shining with honesty, never stray from mine. “It was always meant to be you. I’m sorry I was such an idiot.”

“By the way,” I whisper, biting my lip, “I love you too.” Always have and always will.

“For the love of God, Rosie, if you keep looking at my dick like it’s an ice cream sundae on the hottest day of July, I’m going to explode.”

“You’re going to be the death of me, woman.”

“Why are you holding back?” His eyes widen with surprise, like he didn’t expect me to pick up on it. “I’m not.”

I grin. “Liar. Fuck my mouth like you want to.” He closes his eyes, breathing out slowly. “Are you sure?” I nod, clenching my abdominal muscles to stave off the desire that courses through me at the idea of it. “Give it to me. I can take it.”

“Look at the way you take me. Your pussy was made for me.”

“I love you.” He kisses me.

“You feel so good, baby.”

“Let go, Rosie,” he murmurs. “Get outta your head. Eyes on me.”

“Beautiful. So beautiful,” he croons, lazily tracing my body with both hands.

Hand on my throat, he holds me flush against his body.

He reaches over to the drawer where I stuffed my drawing earlier and rummages around blindly. “I figured you’d have one of these,” he says, straightening and holding my vibrator up triumphantly.

Turning it on, he presses it against my clit. I nearly fly off the bed like he’s exorcising demons from my body. The sensation is … too much. Too good. Too intense. “Oh, yeah.” He smiles, pleased with himself, and thrusts deeper. “You’ll come again.”

“Just so you know, there’s no one else I’d rather do this with than you.” “Not even Miley Cyrus?” I drop my head back and groan. “How dare you bring up my Miley Cyrus obsession.”

“Can I hold him?” She already has her hands outstretched for him. “No.”

Sue me for protecting my kid. I don’t know any of these people, and in a crowd this size, there are germs galore. I don’t want him getting sick. And frankly, I’m paranoid enough to think that if I hand him off, I might not get him back.

“Why?” She’s bold enough to ask, unlike the others I’ve turned away. “Because I said so.” I don’t owe anyone an explanation.