Page 112 of Implode

I laugh over her bold remark just as the photographer reminds us to be serious. I clear my throat and hold my hands up in apology as Graham gives me some side-eye. When there is a transition to another outdoor setting, I lean in closer to Claire to whisper, “Pretty sure you are oblivious to how appealing you are to men.”

She shrugs. “Whatever. I’ll be hugely pregnant soon and no one will even give me a second glance. Lucky you, you have me all to yourself.”

“Damn straight I do,” I say with a smack to her ass. She jumps into the air and looks around to see if anyone noticed.

Claire pouts out her bottom lip and looks up at me through her dark eyelashes. “Does that mean I can’t catch the bouquet during the reception?”

“Correct.”

“Why not? Afraid some other man is going to slide his hands up my legs to place the garter?” She taps a finger along her jaw. “Come to think of it, that kinda sounds fun. I think I will veto your demand.”

A deep growl builds low in my throat. “If you want to be responsible for his hands being broken, then go for it,” I say flatly.

Claire swallows hard and then follows the photographer’s directive to take a few pictures with just her and Angie. She adds a sway to her hips as she walks away from me. That girl better watch it or she is going to find herself pulled away from the party so I can stuff her full of my dick. She brings out every predatory, animalistic impulse in me. And dammit, I think she actually likes it. Sneaky little minx.

I watch from the sidelines as the two girls stand back-to-back and then turn toward the camera with a giggle. The photographer then asks them to lean against the railing of a little footbridge that goes over a koi pond.

We wrap up the photo session and then hop in golf carts to ride around the grounds before we have to go into the mansion for the formal introductions.

“Remind me why I can’t drive this thing?” Claire asks, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Because I value all three of our lives.”

“Oh, c’mon. I’m not that bad,” she huffs.

“You pretty much are.”

She smacks me on the arm, making the cart swivel. “I’ve never gotten in an accident before and only have a few minor incidents on my record.”

“I’m sure none of them were your fault,” I respond sarcastically.

“Oh, you have some nerve!”

“Your driver starts on Monday and will be driving you to work.”

Claire turns so fast that I jerk from the suddenness of her movements. “My driver?”

“Yup,” I confirm.

Someone is trying their best to get me to distrust those I once trusted. Whoever thinks it’s in their best interest to double-cross me hasn’t experienced just how dark my revenge can get. Until everything settles, I’m not taking Claire’s safety for granted. Whatever concessions I’ve made to allow her some level of independence may no longer apply. With Graham gone soon on his honeymoon, it’ll be up to me to keep everything afloat.

“I don’t need a driver.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Who is he?” she inquires, facing the front again.

“Me.”

“You.”

“I want you to move in with me—officially. We can then spend a few months planning out our dream home before the baby arrives.”

“You want to build?” she asks, emotion evident in her tone.

“I want to build a life with you, baby. The house is just part of the process.”

Claire turns toward me again, and when I look into her eyes, I see hope and happiness. Everything I never thought I would want is now entwined with Claire’s acceptance of her and me becoming anus.

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