Page 3 of Devious Temptation
After that searing promise, I hide in the pool the rest of the afternoon to hide the ever-present wet spot between my thighs.
Rhys’hands wrap around my middle the second the front door closes behind the last of our teammates. “Come on. Let’s go to the pool house.”
His fingers drag across my stomach to dig into my sides. “Babe, you gotta lay off my dad’s cookies. Those things are pure sugar.”
The out-of-pocket statement jars me, and any hint of arousal I feel dissipates as I blink up at him. “Excuse me?”
The words hurt. I’ve never been as small as the flyers on the cheerleading team, so I’m the perfect main base. I have curves, and I’m proud of my body. I love the way I look. And Rhys has never uttered a single word about being unhappy with my appearance until now. Usually, such cruel behavior is learned from the man of the household, but Lawson has never been anything other than kind to me.
“He’s right, Lucy. You want to fit into your prom dress, don’t you? It’s already a little tight as it is, dear.” Charlotte’s sardonic quip fills the space, echoing Rhys’ sentiments and cluing me into the fact thatshe’sthe one his new attitude is coming from. She doesn’t even look at us on her way to the dining room, nursing another glass of her usual chardonnay.
“CHARLOTTE!” Mr. Morgan’s—Lawson’s—incredulous voice rings out from the kitchen. Heavy footsteps sound from down the hall, and his angry face appears around the corner seconds later.
He’s all fire and brimstone as he grabs her arm and yanks her down the hall, not even sparing us a glance. Rhys’s hand grabs mine tightly, his breathing growing heavy as he stares at where his parents disappeared.
The nurturer side in me wants to comfort him, but the feminist side wants to demand why he’d say such a vile thing about my appearance.
I opt for silence.
The door opens and slams behind us, and I turn to see River, Rhys’ younger brother, kicking off his shoes. “Hey, Lucy!”
Pasting on a warm smile, I wave and open my arms for a hug. “Hey, kiddo. Just get back from Rose’s?”
“Yeah!” he exclaims cheerfully as he embraces me and ignores his older brother. “Her mom took us swimming in the pool in the garden on the roof!”
“That’s great, Riv! I love it there.” River is best friends with my little cousin, Rose. Well, she’s notreallymy cousin—our mothers are best friends and have been for years, so we consider ourselves family.
Rhys is still staring down the hall, where we can hear Lawson’s muffled—but clearly angry—voice as he yells at his wife, so I try to usher the younger Morgan toward his room. “Why don’t you get changed and washed up for dinner? Your dad made steaks.”
“And potatoes?” River cocks an eyebrow as he finally glances at his brother, who hasn’t eaten a potato since we were sixteen.
“Parmesanpotatoes.” I wink, letting out a small laugh as the kid whoops and bounds toward his bedroom.
When I turn back to Rhys, he finally looks at me, his blue eyes shaded with guilt. “I’m sorry,” he says, reaching for my hand again, having dropped it when River hugged me. “That was a dick thing to say.”
“Damn right, it was.” I pull him close, pushing up on my toes to kiss him chastely. “I forgive you. Don’t do it again.”
“Your mother isn’t feeling well, Rhys. Looks like it will just be us for dinner. Did I hear River come home?” Lawson’s voice startles me as he appears out of thin air. His stormy gray eyes are dark like a thundercloud—a hurricane force ready to unleash hell on his son when I go home for the evening.
Lawson has always reminded me a little of a storm, so intense when he’s at the height of his anger—and I’ve seen him get angry plenty of times on the sidelines at our football games—but he’s always devastatingly beautiful.
A force you find yourself drawn to and unable to look away from even though it has the power to kill you.
Rhys is attractive, but his father is painstakingly handsome.
That stormy gaze darts to me as I reply, “Yeah, I told him to get washed up and ready for dinner.”
He smiles, his head tipping forward slightly. “Thank you, Lucy. Why don’t you and Rhys set the table?”
A thrill runs through me at the command in his deep, husky timbre. Rhys clears his throat as Lawson returns to the kitchen, pulling my attention back to him, and his eyes hold a wariness I instantly know I don’t like. “What?”
He watches me for a few silent moments, eyes sliding to where his dad disappeared before slowly moving back to me. He shakes his head, causing his dark hair to fall across his forehead. “Nothing. Come on. I’ll get the plates and glasses. You can take care of the silverware.”
Three
Steak juice splattersall over my ‘World’s Best Dad’ apron that River gifted me for my birthday last year as I stab thick slabs of meat and move them from the grill to a serving platter.
Fucking bitch.
