Striking (Red Lips & White Lies Book 7)

Love fiercely because one day, this all ends.

—Bellamy’s Secret Thoughts

“Soak my cock with your come, baby. Show me who this body belongs to,” Rhys growls in my ear as the hot shower coats our slick bodies and the cool tile digs into my back, and I detonate.

A million sparks fire behind my eyes as I cling to him, shaking and moaning.

One orgasm rolling into two as he rests my shaky feet back on the tile floor. “We should conserve water by showering together every morning, my love.”

“Umm . . .” I laugh and grab a towel. “That shower took twice as long as my typical shower takes, and I have my doctor’s appointment this morning. If I’m late, I’m telling them it’s your fault,” I taunt him and hand him a towel.

“You’re the queen of Mornea, love. They’re not going to give you any grief.” Rhys wraps the towel around his hips, then drags me next to him. “Are you sure you don’t need me to go with you?”

“No.” I push away, knowing if I keep touching his bare chest, I’m going to drop to my knees and show him just how much I’d rather be here than meeting my new oncologist. “You have a meeting with the foreign affairs officer, and we still haven’t heard anything about the vote. You and Atticus both said it’s better to stick with business as usual until we hear something.”

Parliament has been locked away for nearly twenty-four hours with no updates, and I feel like I’m losing my mind. But telling my husband that isn’t going to help anything.noveldrama

“I’ll see you this afternoon.” I take a step away, but I’m pushed up against the wall as Rhys’s mouth covers mine. His tongue pushes between my lips, and a moan builds deep in my chest.

“Whatever happens today, we are worth it.”

I nod, dazed.

Utterly in love with this man.

“We are worth it, Your Highness. Now I have to get dressed.” I tug free and kiss his cheek, smiling with adoration for this man. “I love you.”

“With my dying breath, love.”

God, I hope it never comes to that.

Meeting a new doctor is always the worst. Even for someone like me, with a medical background, it’s uncomfortable. There’s the inevitable mountain of intake forms. The in-depth discussion about every single facet of your medical history with the nurse, who absolutely senses your discomfort and wishes there was a better way for him or her to ease your mind. And then the occasionally nearly hour-long wait to see the doctor. I was hoping a small perk of being queen would be a slightly shorter wait, but when your husband pulls strings to get you into the best oncologist in Mornea, waiting forty-five minutes for your appointment doesn’t seem so bad.

If you’re lucky, your bestie will choose that minute to nag the hell out of you.

I don’t want to burden her with what’s going on with Parliament right now.

Not via text, and not until I know which way the vote actually goes.

There’s a knock on the door before it opens.

An older gentleman with beautifully dark skin and warm, soft eyes steps into the room and bows. “It is so wonderful to meet you, Your Highness.”

“Thank you, Dr. Kunai. And thank you so much for making time in your schedule for me. I know my husband and I both appreciate it.” I’ve learned over the past few months that even though I would never have been this formal before marrying Rhys, it actually puts people more at ease now than informal me does. This country expects a certain formality from their queen. It eases their nerves about meeting me.

Atticus likes to tease me that I’d send them right over the edge if they saw what a hot mess I am at home.

He takes a seat on a small stool and wheels his way over to the table where I’m seated. “I was happy to help. King Rhys has done more good for the field of oncology in Mornea than anyone before him, and I’m very aware of the way you are now continuing that trend. Our country is lucky to have you, my queen.”

Oh geeze.

I wasn’t ready for that.

“Thank you.” I wipe my eyes, trying to act like dust got in them and that his kind words didn’t just make me want to cry.

“Okay then. Let’s get down to business, shall we?” he asks as he opens a tablet and pulls up my information. “The results of your bloodwork are right where we want them. You seem to be in perfect health. Although I do recommend that we switch out one of your medications now that you’re expecting. I did a little research and⁠—”

“I’m sorry, Dr. Kunai. Expecting what?” I ask, confused. “I’ve been on these medications for the past two years with no side effects. I would really rather not change them now.” Finding the right medications with the least amount of side effects and even fewer adverse interactions with each other hasn’t always been easy over the years. It took ages to nail down this regimen, and I really don’t want to change it now.

He scrolls through my chart with a furrow between his brows, then rubs a hand over his shaved head. He looks like an even sexier version of Taye Diggs, and that thought alone has me thinking Clara has forced me to watch Rent one too many times since I’ve moved to Mornea. Her love of that musical knows no end.

“I’m sorry, your highness . . . I assumed you knew.” He confirms something on the screen then looks up at me. “You’re pregnant.”

“Hey queen bee. Have you seen Rhys?” Atticus asks as he sits down next to me at the kitchen counter and eyes my sticky toffee pudding. “You gonna share the wealth?”

“Get your own,” I groan and pull my plate closer.

“Okay, down, killer. You’re not the only one allowed to eat your emotions, you know. I am waiting to find out if my whole world is going to change too.”

Shit.

I hadn’t thought about that. His entire life could be about to change because of Rhys’s decision… because of me.

“I’m sorry, Atticus. I hadn’t thought about that,” I admit.

He shrugs it off and grabs his own pudding. “I’ve known my role for as long as Rhys has known his. Rhys has been raised to rule this country and I’ve been raised to protect Rhys. Not like Vaughn does, but in some ways I like to think what I do is more important. I just never expected there would be a snowball’s chance in hell of it possibly meaning I’d end up sitting on the throne.”

“Would that be the worst thing in the world?” I’m not sure why I ask when I think I already know the answer.

“To be King? Left alone in this country, without a father I can trust, or a brother and sister nearby, because they would both be living in America?” He drags his fork through the pudding, making sure to get extra butterscotch soaking it through. “Yes. I think it would be the worst thing in the world. I’ve never wanted it, Bee. Don’t let Rhys fool you. He may hate the idea of having to conform to what the world expects from the King of Mornea, but that will be what makes him a great king. It’s not that he wants the power, it’s that he respects the job and the citizens of this country. He’s spent a lifetime preparing for it. That’s just not me.”

“I am sorry, Atticus.” I have no doubt it’s too little, too late, but my brother-in-law smiles like he always does, hiding more pain than I think most people realize.

He looks at my glass of milk and maybe notices the red rimming my eyes. “Need me to make you some coffee or something?”

Call me stupid, but that’s it.

That’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back.

And I’m the fucking camel that just can’t take any more today. I’m at my emotional capacity and the tears come hard and fast and in big, hulking, fat streams down my cheeks.

“Holy shit, Bee . . . what . . . What did I say?” He looks at me like I’m a little green alien standing in front of him and he has no idea what to do or say to me. “I didn’t mean to lay that all on you. I⁠—”

“It’s not that,” I sob. Like actually sob because I can’t control it.

I’m not even sure I’m trying at this point.

My chest shakes and my hands tremble and the tears won’t stop…

“What the fuck did you do?” Rhys roars as he storms in the room and puts himself between Atticus and me, like he thinks he needs to protect me from his brother. The one person in the world who would probably stand toe to toe with me to protect my husband from the world. And that thought makes me cry harder. “What’s wrong, love? Are you hurt?”

I shake my head, unable to form words as a heavy sob gets caught in my throat, choking me.

“You’re scaring me, Bellamy.” Rhys bends his knees, bringing himself eye level to me, and there’s so much love shining right there in the depths of those sapphire blues.

All of our phones buzz at the same time, but none of us move an inch to check them.

“Little bee . . .”

His voice wraps around me like a weighted blanket, soothing and solid and so damn strong. But is he strong enough for this? Am I? Is Atticus?

“Rhys . . . I went to the doctor this morning⁠—”

His hands gently wrap around my head. “Whatever it is, we’ll deal with it together. We’ll get through⁠—”

“Stop, Rhys . . . I’m not sick.” Fuck. I don’t even know how to say this. I don’t know how he’ll react. I don’t know if this news will make everything that’s happening even worse.

“I wasn’t supposed to be able to get pregnant. Little to no chance. That’s what I’ve been told since I was fifteen. I never let myself focus on that because I got to live. I got to be healthy and live. I could adopt if I wanted kids. And to be perfectly honest, I wasn’t even sure if kids were in the cards for me. You had to have a boyfriend long enough to want to have that talk, and I never dated a man worth⁠—”

“I’m trying to follow you here, Bellamy, but if you start talking about other men, I may throw you over my shoulder and take you somewhere I can make you forget any other man ever existed before me,” he grumbles and Atticus moves in next to him.

“Real smooth, you wanker. She’s trying to tell you she’s pregnant. Even I figured that out.” A moment passes before Atticus’s eyes light up with… is that relief I see shining there? “And do you know what that means?”

His level of excitement borders on frightening.

“What?” Rhys asks, utterly shocked, and possibly not completely comprehending what he’s being told. “You’re pregnant?”

I drag my fingers along his temple and down his face. Memorizing it right now. Just like this. Because of all the ways I expected him to react, tears of joy weren’t on my list.

“Almost eight weeks,” I tell him and watch a slow hesitant smile transform into the most beautiful one I’ve ever seen.

“Fucking hell yes,” Atticus chants and pumps his fist in the air.

“What?” I ask and push Rhys out of the way so I can see Atticus do a literal happy dance as he holds his phone up and tears spill from his eyes too.

“Look at your phones. The vote is in. They passed the amendment. Rhys doesn’t have to abdicate, and thanks to you, queen bee, I’m no longer second in line to the throne. Fuck yes. The world is good and kind and fair, and I don’t have to fucking rule it.”

He starts muttering under his breath as he walks away with the weight of an entire country lifted from his shoulders.

“Where are you going, brother?” Rhys calls out as he turns back to me.

Atticus looks over his shoulder, sweet relief reflecting back at us. “To the Seven Swords to celebrate. You coming with?”

My husband pushes my hair out of my eyes as his shine with so much love, I feel like my cup is overflowing. “No. I’ve got everything I need right here.”

I drag my teeth over my trembling lips and take a deep cleansing breath. “You get to keep your throne.”

“I do. But do I get to keep you? I promised if you gave me six months, I’d let you leave if you wanted an out, Bellamy. Are you still looking for that out?”

“There was never an out, Rhys. There was only ever going to be you and me at the end of those six months. I knew it in December. I know it now. And I’ll know it fifty years from now.” And something about voicing those words soothes my soul and settles my heart. “I can’t believe you were going to give up your crown for me.”

“I’ll spend my last breath on this earth telling you I love you, Bellamy. My crown meant nothing without you.”

“I love you, Rhys. I love you, and I love our life. I never thought I would, but my God, I do.” I swipe my finger through the butterscotch sauce, and Rhys licks it off my finger. “Want to get dirty so we can take another shower, my king?”

His eyes heat as he grabs the plate and my hand and leads the way.