Page 57 of That Pretty Pucking Mouth

Cassidy immediately notices and squeezes my arm. “That’s not your date,” she whispers.

I plaster on a neutral expression, even though I can feel my blood starting to simmer. Thatcher looks way too comfortable, leaning against his car as if he’s got all the time in the world. He shifts as our eyes meet, crossing his arms across his chest.

“Or is it?” Cass whispers, barely containing her excitement.

My irritation is bubbling up faster than I can keep it in check. I square my shoulders, refusing to let him see me rattled.

What the hell does he think he’s doing showing up here unannounced?

After speaking about keeping this thing between us a secret. I can’t believe he’s doing this.

My teeth clench as I glare at him, my heart pounding with frustration. I glance back at Cassidy, her wide, curious eyes bouncing between me and Thatcher like she’s watching the beginning of a juicy drama unfold.

This is the last thing I want. The last thing I need.

Cassidy’s still hanging on my arm, but I barely notice her. All I can focus on is Thatcher, lounging against his car, like this is his damn driveway. She’s practically vibrating with excitement, but I don’t care. I shake her off and storm up to him, arms crossed tightly over my chest.

Thatcher watches me as I approach, his eyes never straying. His stare was a bit unnerving but the anger steadily building in me chases out any rational thoughts.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I snap, keeping my voice low but not hiding the edge in my tone. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Instead of replying, he only levels a plain look at me, silence permeating the air between us.

“I thought I told you that we agreed to keep this a secret,” I bite out, every word laced with irritation.

Thatcher just tilts his head. His bottle green gaze piercing through me. There’s that infuriating glint in them, the one that says he’s playing a game only he knows the rules to.

“A secret, huh?” he murmurs, leaning back against his car, casual as ever. “Funny because last night it didn’t sound like we were a secret.”

My jaw tightens, heat rushing to my cheeks as his words hit their mark. Of course, he’d bring that up. He always knows how to needle his way under my skin, twisting the knife with a smirk that only deepens my annoyance.

“This isn’t about last night,” I hiss, glancing over my shoulder to make sure Cassidy’s still at a safe distance. She’s watching us, her expression unreadable but her curiosity unmistakable. I lower my voice, leaning in closer. “It’s about you not keeping your end of the deal. You showing up here like this? It’s reckless, Thatcher. Do you even care about what happens if someone finds out?”

He just shrugs, completely unfazed. “Relax, Dove. I’m just here to give you a ride to class. Thought you might appreciate the gesture.”

“I don’t. I don’t appreciate it.” I let out a breath, trying to ease the tension steadily building in my chest. “You’re not exactlykeeping this under wraps. Do you not understand the concept of secrets?”

His lips quirk into a maddening smirk, his green eyes locking onto mine. “I understand secrets just fine,” he murmurs, his tone low, almost dangerous. “I just don’t believe in keeping…things that belong to me a secret.”

My cheeks flush. I don’t want this to be happening right now, but I force myself to take a breath, fighting to keep my composure even as my mind races with a hundred things I want to yell at him.

“You can’t do that,” I manage, my voice tight, controlled. “This isn’t—” I cut myself off, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing just how rattled I am. I swallow hard, glancing away in an attempt to steady myself, but his presence feels overwhelming, like it’s filling up every available space. When I look back, his expression is one of maddening satisfaction, like he’s gotten exactly the reaction he was hoping for.

“So, what do you intend to do? Parade me in front of your friends? Tell them I’m your sex slave?” I pause, frustration and anger, a mix so potent, it leaves a visceral reaction that bubbles through me, and I feel my fists clench even tighter, my nails digging into my palms as I try to ground myself, forcing down the sharp retorts that threaten to spill over. “You don’t understand, do you? I agreed to your sick terms. I agreed to all this because I thought if I do, I thought it would bring my life back to something close to normal. But this? This…isn’t normal.”

“Normal?” His eyes sharpen, that casual amusement replaced with something darker, something harder to pin down. “You want normal? Your life stopped being normal the moment you walked into that party, the moment you met me, the moment you fucking agreed to be mine.”

The intensity in Thatcher’s voice shifts, stripping away that smug smirk and leaving something raw and unyielding in itsplace. His words hang in the air between us, heavy and electric, laced with a possessiveness that both terrifies and intrigues me

His eyes narrow, his gaze flicking over my face with an intensity that makes my breath hitch. His expression hardens as he steps closer, the space between us disappearing in a heartbeat. “I own you, Rhea. I own all of you. Your life, your happiness, everything. Everything that matters, I own. As soon as you said yes, you became mine, Dove, and I don’t keep secrets. That’s something you need to understand.”

“What about my secret?”

He grins wickedly. “If you continue to pull this bullshit with me, I have no problem telling the world what you did.”

My heart stutters, and a jolt of shock mixes with the anger coursing through me. Thatcher’s words sink in, each one hitting like a blow, leaving me speechless. The intensity in his eyes, the sheer audacity of his claim – it’s overwhelming, terrifying, and maddening all at once.

I take a shaky step back, needing to put some distance between us before I say something I can’t take back. “I can’t do this, Thatcher,” I bite out, voice trembling as I struggle to hold my ground.

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