Page 52 of Rumor Has It

I search for the embossed gold rose calligraphy place card with my name on it. I’m seated between Rhiannon and Cassidy. Chesney’s high chair separates Cassidy and Bellamy.

“Welcome to the kids’ table!” Gatlin interrupts my train of thought, reaching over the spread to shake my hand. With so many people here, I hardly spoken to him.

“Have you figured out who everyone is?” Bellamy asks. “It took me a while.”

“I, uh, heard there was a test.” I nudge Cassidy’s leg under the table.

Placing my hand on her knee, I squeeze. She turns an adorable shade of pink. Although I think it has more to do with my affection toward her than true embarrassment.

“Need a pencil to write it all down?” Gatlin heckles me.

“I think I got it. Okay, y’all ready for this?” I twist in my chair, pointing from one table to the next and rattling off the four extended family surnames, some of them multiple times, depending on where their cousins are in the room.

They clap for me and Chesney joins in. Up close, the baby’s blue eyes and curls remind me of someone else.

The well of confidence I pull from singing on stage has concealed what I haven’t felt in days.

Regret.

Chapter Twenty

CASSIDY

Half awake, a soft moan slips from my lips. My hands skim down my stomach, tangling into Isaiah’s hair.

“Oh…oooh.” My hips rise and I tug at his scalp.

He continues licking a leisurely path from my slit to my clit, suckling the tight bundle of nerves with each pass. His hands move from where he’s used his thumbs to spread my folds, glide up to tweak my nipples.

The sounds I make are less ladylike the more he nips and pinches. Isaiah spears me with his tongue and I’m crying out, begging for mercy, and craving more when the waves of my orgasm subside.

“Don’t stop… Please… Don’t…More.”

He punches his fists into the mattress, rising like a bloodthirsty predator, answering my staccato pleas.

The muscles from his pecs to his forearms ripple. His abs disappear from sight as he lifts my ass off the bed and drags my legs over his shoulders. He enters my still fluttering pussy with one deep thrust and I shout his name. The second peak builds and crests over the first. I lose all control of my body. My knees widen. My calves fall in from their tall perch.

“One more, Cass. Wanna feel you milk my cock one more time. Slick my balls, chou.” He holds my thighs to his sides and pounds into me. “You begged for more. Now give me more.”

His filthy words tip me over the edge.

“Oh, fu—” The rest of the words get trapped in my throat.

Isaiah’s face tenses. He slams home, emptying himself inside of me. Slumping forward over my breasts, the full curses he uses sound like a sweet benediction rolling from his panting, exhausted form.

“Merry Christmas.” He places his chin to my sternum, grinning at me when we catch our breaths.

I let out a cottony, lighthearted cackle.

We were tired after caroling at Newgate. Rhiannon and the many cousins in our generation who don’t have children of their own returned to the mansion. We stayed in the living room until the wee hours, sipping spiked eggnog, and feasting on leftover turkey and stuffing sandwiches. As soon as our heads hit the pillow, Isaiah and I were out.

The entire day was reminiscent of Christmases during my childhood. The type of holiday where you fall asleep with the full meaning ofbelievefirmly impressed upon you. Like anything wondrous can and will happen in the morning.

I cup my fingers around his ear and Isaiah crawls over me, pressing his mouth to mine for a kiss. I taste myself on his lips.

“I have something for you.” He rolls to the side, reaching for the delivery envelope that came the previous evening.

I squish it trying to figure out what the bulk inside could be.

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