Wild Side (Rose Hill, #3)

by Elsie Silver

“Hey, asshole. I made you a bowl of carbonara so that I won’t have to hear your stomach all the way upstairs. I didn’t even poison it. Bon appétit and good night.” The door creaks as she closes it, but then it stops. Light spills down the stairs once again as she adds, “Oh, and I sleep with a gun under my pillow, so don’t try anything weird.” I drop my chin, and a smile curves my lips. Because I’m pretty sure that—in her own way—Tabitha Garrison was just nice to me.

He shakes his head as he turns away and saunters toward the basement. And I do mean saunters. His hips sway in a slow and natural motion. His ass… His. Ass. I give my head a shake too and glance up at the ceiling, asking the sky for a little self-control here. And I remind myself that I do not like Rhys Dupris, no matter what my pussy thinks about him.

“Just fucking let me take care of you. Where is it?” He glances up at me, and my stomach bottoms out. All those dark features homed in on me. Him on his knees for me. Wanting to take care of me.

He’s too gentle. So handsome that it hurts. I’m forced to look away from the way he tends to me. Stupidly, I opt to soak in his naked torso instead. A fool’s strategy to keep from wanting to climb him. My eyes trace hard line after hard line, the masculine dark hair leading up from his waist, a bit thicker on his chest. Then I stop.

I hop off the counter and shove past him to pour myself a fresh cup of coffee. Then I march outside like I wanted to do before his naked torso walked into the kitchen and fucked everything up. But it’s not as relaxing as I anticipated. I’m angry and horny, and I feel like Rhys is watching me through the glass doors. But I refuse to check in case he sees and gets satisfaction out of thinking I care.

“Tabitha is always leaving her door open,” I say. “Stupid,” Bash mumbles, reaching for his pint while shaking his head. “See? You get it.” West looks more confused. “Like open-open? Aren’t bugs an issue?” “No, intruders are, you idiot.” Bash takes the words right out of my mouth.

Fucking West. I love him

From that fuckable mouth to the red tips of her toes peeping out of her heels, she’s got trouble written all over her.

It’s only Bash who gives me a reassuring slap on the shoulder. “I’m sure you’re a natural at something. It’s just not this.” That only makes the guys laugh harder.

I have a feeling Bash is the unintentional dry-humour type

I know I’m holding Tabitha before I look down. It’s in the way the pads of my fingers tingle and how she’s too short to even show up in my line of vision.

I’m a sucker for the giant man and petite woman trope

Good god, this woman is infuriating. I should tell her, just spit it out.

“I don’t know why you’re so obsessed with me being a porn star. If you want to see me fuck someone, the bathroom is right there. Drag me in there right now, and you can watch in the mirror while I bend you over.”

I have a feeling we’d hate-fuck this entire building to the ground. And truthfully, I don’t really want Tabitha to hate me. I wish she didn’t.

I turn around. Go back into the bathroom. Lock the door behind me. And fist my cock while imagining being inside Tabitha Garrison. Just to take the edge off.

Because yes, I’ve kissed plenty of men. But none of them have felt like that.

“Kill you or fuck you, Tabby?” My voice drops lower. “Oh, I’ve decided.” “Fuck,” she mutters, teeth strumming her bottom lip as she glances away. “Yep. That’s the one.”

“Friendly reminder that this marriage is fake,” she mutters, focusing just a little too hard on the table where our friends sit. “Nothing fake about how wet you are right now.”

He does look like he could kill me or fuck me. And with a face like his, I’d say thank you either way. Thank you, sir. Will you please twist my panties and whisper something dirty in my ear one last time before I go?

His tongue pops into the side of his cheek, and that seals the deal for me. It’s him. “Tabitha…” My lips curve up. “Am I Mrs. Wild Side?” Rhys rolls his eyes and looks away.

His soul—it’s a good one. And I don’t want to be another leech. I can’t promise him that I won’t crack some jokes about this, but… I lift my pinky finger between us as I stare back at him. “I pinky promise that no matter what happens, I will never take anything that’s yours.” His eyes bounce between mine, a nervous glint to them. “You know these aren’t legally binding, right?” I swallow, transported back to the day he told me that exact thing. “Yeah, but only a total asshole breaks a pinky promise.” He regards me for several beats, then he lifts his finger and repeats my words back to me. “I pinky promise that no matter what happens, I will never take anything that’s yours.” We shake. And his expression is just as sincere as it was when we spoke our wedding vows.

He shrugs a shoulder. “It’s okay. I’m thirty-five. I’ve come to terms with it.” “Thirty-five?” “I feel like you just added old jokes to your plan of attack. Did you not read the marriage license?” Clearly not.

It’s with those images in my head that I promise myself to never let Rhys go hungry again.

My cock thickens as I recall our moment on the stairs. The thrill of chasing her across the basement. The almost that will provide shower fodder for the rest of my life.

“Oh look! The emo one has become the horny one,” Doris announces, fists propped on her hips. Tabitha straightens instantly, pushing me back like she’s a teenager who just got caught sneaking a boy through her window. “Very funny, Doris.” Tabitha laughs to cover the tremor in her voice.

Because I have not been able to stop thinking about Rhys all day. Is he safe? Is he hungry? Is everything at the border okay? Is he thinking about me too?

“Her name is Tabitha, not that you need to know. Because you? You’re going to keep my wife’s name out of your fucking mouth.”

“I know, I know,” I mutter to Erika the plant. “I’m being weird and neurotic. Trust me, I know.”

“I wish you weren’t seeing me like this.” My brow furrows. “Like what?” “At my worst.” I tip my head toward her. “Then it’s all uphill from here, baby. It’s going to make seeing you at your best so damn special.”

I expect her to tell me to leave again, but with no preamble, she turns and crawls into my lap, wrapping her arms around my neck and dropping her head on my shoulder. Then she sobs. And I hold her.

Eventually, she breaks the silence with a thin sounding “Thank you.” It’s my turn to only offer her a nod. I don’t trust myself to speak at the moment, so I just press a quick kiss to her hip, right where the strap of her panties hugs the bone. Then I move on quickly, reaching for a towel, drying every inch of her. Her skin, her hair, all the way down her legs. I move over the top of her underwear, not willing to cross that line at a moment like this. Once she’s dry, I push to standing and lift her small frame into my arms before striding from the bathroom.

My room is…not the same. New bedside tables flank a matching bed frame, with deep maroon sheets and perfectly plump pillows. A large rug softens the floor. There appear to be photos propped on the framing. There’s… I don’t know. It’s cozy and warm and full of love. Someone who cares put together this room, and it makes my heart fall hard on a heavy stutter step. No one has ever put a room together for me. But Tabitha did.

“There is nothing to forgive, Tabby. I got it all tangled up. I promised to comfort you, and I didn’t do it quite right, but I was trying the best I knew how.” My eyes sting, and if I wasn’t out of tears to shed, maybe one would fall. Instead, I’m stuck staring into the earnest eyes of the world’s most beautiful, tender, complicated man, and…I want him.

Does love start off as obsession? Because that’s what I am. Obsessed with my wife.

Slowly, I trail my fingers over her hair, gently working the knots out until I can easily run my digits through the section. Then I settle for stroking her, watching the morning light highlight all the different shades of brown in her full head of hair. Eventually, her lips curve into a soft smile, but she doesn’t open her eyes. She snuggles closer and hums contentedly. “Are you petting me, Dupris?” There’s humor in her voice, and my lips quirk up at the tone. “Are you purring, Tabitha?” She laughs, and I can feel her wide smile against my side. “Maybe. It feels nice. No wonder Cleo loves you so much. You pet a girl like that, and she can’t help but fall.”

His head snaps up from scraping his fork along the bottom of the bowl to get any last remnants of the sauce. Sometimes watching him eat makes me happy, and sometimes it makes my heart hurt. Imagining him hungry and alone kills me. I tip my chin at him. “I can make you more, you know.” He leans back, giving me a sheepish grin as though I’ve busted him licking the plate.

“Careful teasing me like that, Tabby. I already admitted to being desperate. Means I’m not above dragging you out of here just to get back into that pretty little pussy.”

Rhys doesn’t miss a beat though. Instead, he slaps my ass soundly enough to draw looks from other people already at their mats. I flush and head for an open spot, peeking at Rhys beside me as I lay my mat on the floor. His lips are upturned, and when he finally looks my way, he winks. My jaw drops a bit, and I stare at him, slightly taken aback by his playfulness. A side of him I didn’t see coming. Maybe that chakra shit is real, and I healed him with the magic of my pussy. “Babe, you okay?” he asks, all innocent, pulling out those acting skills he hides away. “You’re staring.” I huff out a laugh and shake my head, imagining all the ways I will get back at him for this Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde display here.

Complicated. Rhys and I are complicated. But that doesn’t stop me from committing to jumping his bones the second we get home.

“Anyway.” Ford reaches forward to toast Rhys. “A fucking wrestler, man—that’s pretty cool.” West lifts his glass, but then pauses. “Wait, so are you just a cat dad?” Rhys shrugs, looking almost bashful. “I’m a cat dad. And I was friends with Erika, so I’ve done my best to fill that role for Milo. Like where I can. I love him like he’s my own. Even though I know it’s not the same—” “Nah.” West waves him off. “Don’t qualify that. Parenthood isn’t black and white. It sneaks up on us where we least expect it. If it walks like a duck and all that.”

“I guess what we’re doing is being married.” “For how long?” “I don’t know that people usually plan that type of thing.” I swallow. “Right. But this marriage…it’s fake.” Her head tilts as she regards me with a tight smile and narrowed gaze. “That’s funny. It doesn’t feel very fake to me.” Air rushes from my lungs. It’s like I didn’t even realize how badly I needed to hear that from her. But there’s an echo of hurt in her eyes that makes me feel guilty for calling this thing between us fake. Because I know better. So I face her head-on and tell her the secret I’ve been keeping for weeks now. “It doesn’t feel very fake to me either.”

Just like I need my work, he needs his. That he has a passion for something—that drive, that focus—it’s one of the most attractive things about him.

“On your knees, Tabby. I changed my mind. I’ll fuck your face first. Eat your pussy after.”

“Hey, Tabitha?” Her hands don’t stop moving when I talk. “Yeah?” “I might be in love with you.” I can hear the smile in her voice when she responds. “Oh wow. You might be? How special. Let me know when you decide.” That smart fucking mouth. I smile against her skin, letting a warm wash of adoration blanket me. “No, not might be. I am. I have been for a while now.” Tabitha sighs contentedly. “That’s good. Because I’ve been in love with you for a while now too.” She loves me.

People talk and move around us, but it all fades away when his next words hit my ears. “Take my mask off, baby.” “What?” “You heard me.” “But, Rhys…” My eyes bounce between his, my heart suddenly lodged in my throat. “You—” “Tabby, I’m tired of hiding. I don’t need to anymore, thanks to you. This is my choice. You and me. Together.”

“Rhys, I know you want me to leave, but that is just too fucking bad. Because I refuse. But I’ll go get a coffee to give you a minute for processing purposes, and then I’m coming back and I’m going to sit in that corner. Feel free to pretend I’m not here if you need to. I don’t care.” She points across the room. “And when you’re done stewing in whatever feelings you’re feeling right now, I will be there. Just like you were there for me. This is who we are now.” Her eyes are so fierce, she pierces me with them. “This is what you do when you love somebody. And I have every intention of loving you just as thoroughly as I know you love me. You just have to let me.”

“You can’t be mean to someone with a broken back.” Her eyes roll. “Your back isn’t broken. At this point, I’m more concerned about the concussion, because you’re acting a fool.” I almost laugh. It’s so her to be both furious with me and supportive in the same breath.

“Rhys.” She props her elbow on my mattress and holds her pinky up. “I pinky promise to always come back.” My throat feels tight. It hurts to swallow. Seconds pass as I regard her. Then I wrap my pinky around hers and squeeze as I nod firmly. “I pinky promise to always come back.”

Tiny little spitfire manhandling a huge professional wrestler.

I trudge through the house, going straight to her. But not before Cleo intercepts me with her signature prow prow prow as she comes trotting out of thin air. “Hello, sweet girl,” I murmur, lifting her up and holding her like a baby. She purrs instantly, nuzzling against me. And I don’t even pretend I don’t enjoy it. I carry her out onto the back patio. Tabitha is there, under the heater I bought her, waiting for me. “I thought I was your sweet girl?” Tabitha asks from where she’s seated with crossed arms and one quirked brow.

Rhys Garrison. I don’t let her say anything more. With the papers crinkling between us, I lean forward and kiss her, my hand at the back of her head. It’s firm and desperate. It ends with our foreheads resting together and my whispered words lingering between us. “Yes, please.”

I get lost for a moment, staring at them all. My family. My home. Seeing all these people who’ve cheered me on for so many years, I’m overcome with gratitude. For this life. For this adventure. For all this love.