DECEIT (B723) - Hazel Grace (the reader ebook .txt) 📗

have been no reason for her to fake her own death.

“Yeah, well, I’m an asshole with issues.” I bump her legs wider with our clenched hands and the green fabric of her dress rises up her thighs.

“That you’re never going to talk about?”

I slowly shake my head. “I want to…it’s just hard to go back there.”

“I’ll go with you,” she says softly. “And we’ll fight it together.”

“How?” I search her face for her magical answer. “I can’t change me, Ems. It’s difficult to get close and express shit.”

“I’m sure we can think of something.” She brushes my lips with hers, sending an immediate wave of need crashing through my frame. “You seem to speak very fluently when your dick is deep inside me.”

My fingers skim up her naked thighs on instinct. “Might not be the best thing to do, baby.”

“Then we’ll work on it. There’s no rush.”

“Maybe a little rush,” I disclose as I make contact with her lace panties. “I’ve been staring at you all night in this dress.”

Emmy gives me a small smile. “I mean…I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” She arches her hips slightly to give me more of what I have now. “That’s peer pressure.”

Her small fingers lace through my hair and I relax against her when her cell buzzes behind her. She lets out a little growl and reaches for it then frowns when she swipes over the screen to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Emmy, I was hoping we could talk.” She freezes and I notice the voice on the other end.

Alexander. 

Emmy’s brown eyes meet mine and I see the fear laced in them. “What do you want?” she snaps, her knuckles turning white around the device.

“I got the will drawn up as you asked and I preferred to meet up with you to go over it.”

“When?” Her voice is steel and cold, breaking away from our playful bantering and sinking into the reality of what is her life.

“Whatever works for you. I also wanted to speak about our arrangement with the kids.”

“One step at a time,” Emmy practically growls and I lean in to press a soft kiss to her cheek.

“Calm down, baby,” I whisper into her ear. “He’s not going to get his hands on them or see our kids.” Emmy’s body slouches as if something heavy just fell off her shoulder as she leans into me.

“Does tomorrow work for you?” Alexander presses. “I can meet you wherever you want. We can go to that Italian place you like and have lunch.”

“Go ahead and meet him.” I lick her earlobe and draw it in between my lips. “We’ll lure him in.”

“That sounds fine,” Emmy tells him. “One, work for you?”

“One is great. I’ll reserve our table.” I roll my eyes and trail my attention down her jawline. “I’ll see you then.”

“Emmy.” Alexander’s voice suddenly sounds desperate, almost deprived at not having her in his life. That she held something special for him but he clearly fucked it up.

I thought I was deranged in the head.

“I miss you. I’ve been reflecting over the last few days and there are a lot of things we never spoke about that I think are important.”

“And here I thought this was going to be a carryout lunch for me,” she retorts flatly.

I smile against her skin and slide my hand underneath her dress. “Take it down a notch. You’ll make him cry and act petty. We need him to play nice.”

He needs to believe that she’s basic and might forgive him because if he doesn’t, he might make a move on the kids. I think Alexander will be patient if Emmy shows a hint that there is hope for him.

“Emmy, I know you’re still pissed but I’m hoping that you’ll see in the will that I’m serious about this. About us. That I want to take care of our kids. I want to take care of you. I love you.”

I can’t see Emmy’s face but I can only imagine the scowl on it.

Reluctantly, I pull away but allow my hand to inch up between her legs to find my wife is currently fuming.

Her face is pink, her jaw is locked tight. She glowers at me but not at me but because I’m the only thing in front of her.

I love you, I mouth as I delve forward to flatten a kiss to her lips.

He won’t stress her out when she’s with me.

She and I will get through this together.

“One tomorrow,” Emmy states, staring at me with an unreadable expression on her face. “We’ll talk.”

“Should I send a car for you?” My wife narrows her eyes, completely exasperated over his extra ass.

“No, thank you,” she conveys. “See you then.”

Emmy quickly ends the call before the dumbass can make more of an idiot out of himself and places the phone on the countertop. Her brown eyes still wander around my face as though she’s confused and I chuckle.

“What’s wrong?”

“Did you hear what you said?” Her brows knit and I move her panties to the side.

“About what?”

I know what the hell I said. I just want her to repeat it so there’s no confusion between us. Alexander may have spermed those two kids but Atlas and Alaric are mine now. I held them—that was it.

“You said our kids.”

“That’s another thing,” I breathe, brushing the pad of my thumb over her clit. Her next exhale quivers as she loosens her posture. “I’m gonna want you to take my last name.”

“But—“

“Yeah, twenty-first century and all that shit but you’re gonna need to match the babies because when I adopt them, they’ll be Bishop’s.”

“Bishops? But you—“

“Which one is older?”

Emmy still gapes at me. “Atlas.” I hold her gaze and watch her swallow, suddenly becoming nervous. “Are you upset that I...named my son after you when…”

When they’re not mine. 

I shake my head but she doesn’t relax. Bowing forward, I press my forehead to hers and breathe in her peachy scent.

“I’m sorry, Bish.”

“I know.”

“Thank you for—”

“Don’t give me so much credit. I almost killed your fake baby daddy. I wanna be your