Then I leave.
They’ve all been touched. Marked. Loved.
And now I’m on my way to the community center.
Rhys has no idea what he’s walking into tonight.
But he’s going to draw me.
All of me.
And I’m going to make it impossible for him to forget any of this.
Darling-Thirst Support Group Chat
Benji: She’s at your car, Rhys.
Rhys: I thought she was with you, Jett.
Jett: I’m literally working.
Benji: She’s wearing a trench coat.
Rhys: Unlocking the car.
Benji: sweet Christ she just flashed you
Jett: I said I’m working
Rhys: I need a drink.
Benji: Is there wine at art class?
Rhys: There is not wine at art class.
Jett: Then why the fuck are we going?
Benji: Bonding?
Rhys: Court-mandated healing.
Jett: She’s naked. In a trench coat. Gifting your car like a horny raccoon. And you wanna bond with us? You absolute fucking idiot.
Benji: Valid.
Chapter Forty-Four
Rhys
I cannot get the image of her thigh out of my fucking head.
That trench coat flash, brazen, knowing, burned itself into the backs of my eyelids. She leaned on my car. Then she blew a kiss and walked off in heels, a gift bag full of chaos and candy left behind.
The bag was excessive. Adorable. Delilah to the bone. Thoughtful, almost. A little sweet. Which makes it worse. Because it means she’s feeling things. And worse still, I am too.
I’ve got to get her charges dropped. Get her reassigned. Strip her from my docket before I stop pretending I don’t want her teeth in my shoulder and her cunt on my mouth.
Give her what she wants. Give her what she needs with the kind of ruin she keeps begging for in a hundred depraved little ways.
