It’s Casey.
It’s always him.
Nitro blows out a breath, his attention over my shoulder. “If you’re gonna fuck at least put up a note or lock the door. I’m still mentally scarred from last week.”
He’d walked into the garage while Casey had me bent over the car he was working on, my panties around my ankles, mylegs kicked apart. It wasn’t my finest moment, but I don’t regret anything either.
I smirk. “Sorry, but I have no control over Casey. He takes me when he wants me.”
“Which is all the fuckin’ time,” Nitro grumbles under his breath.
He’s not wrong. He can’t keep his hands off me, and I don’t mind. My husband only has to breathe in my direction and I’m turned on.
“Good luck.” He slides his bottle onto the bar and then makes himself scarce a second before familiar hands slip onto my hips.
For the briefest second it’s not Casey’s hands on me.
It’s his.
James.
Fuck, where did that come from?
I flinch, and hope that Casey thinks it’s because I wasn’t expecting his touch.
I’m safe here.
This room, these people, they’re family. And Casey would cut off his own fingers before he hurt me.
But muscle memory is a bitch, and my body remembers how it feels to be touched unexpectedly. I force myself to relax, to smile and breathe through the panic curling inside me.
Fuck.
It’s not him.
It’s Casey.
My husband’s mouth glides down my throat, and I tilt my head for him. It’s Casey.
It’s my home.
“That’s a beautiful little dress,” he murmurs against my skin.
His voice anchors me, and I let go of the tension in my bones. I’m safe.
Casey’s hand slides down to my bump, cupping the underside of it and I forget about James, his wandering hands and remember why I walked in here dressed like this. “I wanted to be pretty for you.”
“You’re not pretty, Lexi. You’re a fuckin’ work of art. You’re perfection. A dress doesn’t change that.”
I slide my hand over his, turning slightly so I can kiss him. My handsome fucking man. Take control back. Don’t let fear undo who you are.
I want Casey. I walked in here so he could leave me sore and sated.
Fuck anything else but that.
“This work of art is horny as all hell.”
His lips twitch. “Does my good girl need taking care of?”
