The Pact

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by Max Monroe


  What are they going to ask me? Who do I tell them I even am? How in the fuck am I going to explain this little moment when Flynn finally comes inside?

  They’re going to think I’m a tart, for cripes’ sake.

  But the stares are temporary, and to my surprise, everyone is back to their own conversations and tasks. No questions. No insults. No recognition, really, whatsoever.

  If anything, his family notices my presence, and then…moves right the fuck on.

  What the heck?

  “Come on, everyone! Food is ready!” an older woman I think might be Flynn’s mom calls out. “Time to eat!”

  I watch as a few women begin to carry platters of food into the dining room, chatting happily with one another as they go, and I’m torn between asking if they need help or burrowing into the nice hardwood floors of the house.

  Overall, the current sentiment makes me feel as if I’ve either turned invisible and I don’t know it, or they couldn’t care less who I am.

  Ty puts his hand to my lower back, thankfully not in a creepy way, and leads me into the dining room. Flynn is still nowhere to be seen, and I’m starting to get really close to bolting. I mean, I’m a fake wife. If I leave burning rubber on their floors on my way out the door, it’ll only be really weird for another three months or so, right?

  Ty pulls out a chair for me, and without much of a choice other than the Road Runner scenario, I take a seat in it. Flynn’s voice finally—thank God—breaks through the chaos, and I bob and weave my head like a fucking emu to get a look at where he is.

  Person after person stops him for a greeting on his way down the hall, giving hugs and backslaps and big, huge smiles that they in no way gave me. I’m an intruder in their lives, and I feel terrible for showing up unannounced.

  When Flynn finally gets to the mouth of the dining room, I lasso his gaze with the frantic panic of my own and wait for him to figure out what to do. He gives me a kind smile as Ty takes the seat next to me, and I want to murder him for it.

  This is not funny, Flynn Winslow. I’m on the edge of a cliff here!

  Evidently recognizing the severity of my anxiety, Flynn wastes no more time stepping into the dining room, approaching Ty at the table, and tapping him soundly on the shoulder. Ty looks up at him curiously.

  “You mind moving so I can sit beside my wife?” Flynn says without preamble, making me nearly choke on my tongue. And I’m not the only one floored by the simple statement—the entire room brimming with people comes to a screeching stop.

  Did he just… Did he just introduce me as his wife?

  I don’t miss the way the attention of the room has now come right back to me, and this time, it is different. No apathetic glances here. Nope.

  Holy shit. Either this is really intense, or my face is on actual fire.

  “I’m sorry,” a blonde with blue eyes and a friendly face says, the first to speak. “Did you just say wife?”

  Only moments later, Ty turns to me. “You’re here with Flynn?”

  I nod. “I-I… Well, I tried to…um…say something, but—” My voice shakes, and my bones vibrate all the way inside me. Flynn notices and puts a calming, steady hand to my shoulder, effectively shutting me up.

  “Ty, it’s your own fault that the whole family, including you, automatically assumes any new woman at family dinner is here with you.”

  “That’s because he’s a manwhore.”

  “Jude!” the woman who I’m now positive is Flynn’s mom snaps. “Language! There are little ears at the table!”

  Those little ears are an adorable blond-haired girl who just shrugs and giggles. “Uncle Jude says stuff like that all the time, Grandma.”

  “Because I’m a genius, right, Lex? Statistically, only geniuses use swear words.” Jude winks at the little girl, completely ignoring his mom’s scolding, but an older man on the other side of the huge table and his female companion start to snicker.

  “You know you’ve got problems when you don’t even know which woman at the family function is yours. Now, Ty, please remember, this woman right here is your aunt Paula. My wife.”

  “It’s not funny, Uncle Brad.” Ty groans, and the whole room erupts in rabid laughter.

  “Oh, yes. Yes, it is,” the man who opened the door for me earlier says. “And this is my house, so even if it weren’t, I can laugh if I want to.”

  Immediately, the room dissolves into utter chaos. People yelling and shouting and shoving at one another while Flynn’s head bounces back and forth at a million questions coming from different directions.

  I watch him closely as he shakes his head, puts his fingers into his mouth, and lets loose with a whistle that will probably wake up the dogs in Brooklyn.

  “Everyone, shut up so we can get this over with. Yes, I’m married. And this gorgeous woman right here is my wife, Daisy,” Flynn says, and my jaw hits the top of my pencil skirt. Does he…does he actually think that’s going to calm them down?

  I blink so many times I almost give myself motion sickness, but I’m immediately startled back into equilibrium when the room erupts into chaos again, and the entire room of people starts shouting at the same time.

  Flynn throws his hands up in the air and shoves Ty out of the chair next to me to fill it while I try to pick out anything I can through the bedlam.

  “Mom, am I having a stroke?”

  “Your wife?!”

  “You’re married?! How? How is that possible?!”

  “What the fuck, Flynn?”

  Yeah, my thoughts exactly—What. The. Fuck?

  I search Flynn’s eyes for signs of, you know, an aneurysm or something that would explain his complete mental breakdown, but shockingly, I don’t find any. He looks normal.

  I turn back to the table and swallow hard. There’s less shouting, and it seems, the women may have gotten the room organized because it’s quieted back to silence. Unfortunately, all eyes, just as before, are on me.

  “Winnie,” Flynn cautions softly as the friendly looking blonde goes to open her mouth again, and she shakes her head at him and points a finger.

  “Be quiet, Flynn.”

  I swallow hard as her eyes come back to me, assessing me closely. I fidget a little, but by and large, I’m just glad I don’t vomit all over the table of food.

  Her face melts into a smile, and the breath I didn’t know I was holding spreads out all over the room. She sticks out a hand, and I stand up to take it gently.

  “I’m Winnie. Flynn’s sister,” she introduces and begins to point at everyone around the table. “This is my mom Wendy, my uncle Brad and aunt Paula, our eldest brother Remy, Jude and his fiancée Sophie, and my husband Wes and daughter Lexi.”

  “I don’t get an introduction?” Ty grumbles, earning a shush from Winnie. Everyone else waves. I smile awkwardly, waving back.

  “It’s so nice to meet you. I’m incredibly sorry for our rudeness earlier, but that was Ty’s fault,” Winnie continues.

  “Yeah, yeah, let’s shit on Ty all night long.”

  Remy punches Ty in the shoulder, effectively shutting him up and giving me a chance to respond.

  “Thanks. It’s really nice to meet all of you, too. And I don’t blame you for the confusion…it was confusing.”

  Ha-ha-ha. God. Someone help me.

  “Well,” Winnie replies, looking around the room and meeting everyone’s eyes in a way I can tell means something. “We’ll get the details later. For now, I want to say welcome to the family. And I’m sure,” she adds, eyeing everyone closely again, “everyone at this table feels the same way.”

  “Of course, of course,” Uncle Brad says with a nod and a raise of his glass. “Welcome to the family, Daisy!”

  The whole room joins in, and their unexpected kindness causes my heart to flip-flop in my chest.

  Flynn’s hand moves to my thigh underneath the table to give it a squeeze, and when I meet his gaze, he offers a reassuring smile.

  What in the world have I gotten myse
lf into?

  Flynn

  Daisy was silent the entire ride home from my sister’s house and locked herself in the bathroom as soon as we got back to “get ready for bed.” It’s pretty obvious that she feels I blindsided her by taking her to my family dinner without warning, but while it might seem a bit cruel to an outsider, I still think I did the right thing.

  Daisy has shown time and time again that once she gets locked inside her head, it’s nearly impossible to get her out. Her panic takes her in an endless circle of indecision, and I didn’t have the time to both tell her the news of tonight’s family dinner and fuck the anxiety out of her before we got to my sister’s. We were running late as it was.

  Still, I’m aware I’m going to have to deal with the repercussions of my decisions, and I’m ready for it.

  I open the group text message with my siblings to kill a little time while I wait for Daisy to get ready to face me, and fucking hell, it’s busy. If I didn’t have it on Do Not Disturb, my phone would be on its way to being diagnosed epileptic.

  Remy: We’re going to fucking discuss this later, Flynn Winslow. Seems to me now that our lunch conversation should have been expanded a little bit.

  Jude: Dude, I cannot believe you’re married before me, you fucker. I didn’t even know we were racing, or I would have tried harder.

  Winnie: How did you meet? What was your first date like? Was it love at first sight?

  Ty: Does no one even care that Flynn fucking scooped a woman right out from under my nose?

  Remy: She was never really with you. He was married to her before family dinner, you dumbass. Plus, the bastard even told me he was married at lunch last week.

  Winnie: WHAT? YOU KNEW?

  Remy: Relax. I only sort of knew. I didn’t exactly believe him.

  Jude: You didn’t believe Flynn, dude? He’s the only one of us who doesn’t lie.

  Remy: I remember that now. Obviously.

  Ty: She really looks like a woman who’d be my type, though. Like, I feel as if I know her.

  Jude: DUDE. Shut up. This really isn’t about you.

  Winnie: Seriously, Ty. I want answers from Flynn. Not to hear you whine.

  Ty: Wow. Brutal, sis. Brutal.

  The door to the bathroom finally cracks open, and I immediately click the button to lock my screen and set my phone down on the kitchen counter.

  She’s walking on eggshells, but not because she’s afraid she’s going to upset me. No. She’s a woman at the very end of her rope, trying not to explode all over everything.

  As far as I’m concerned, though, the sooner the big boom happens, the sooner I can start putting the pieces back together.

  “Go ahead,” I prompt. “Let it rip. I know you want to.”

  “God, Flynn!” She tosses up her hands and stomps the rest of the way into the kitchen. “This is just a lot, you know? First, I arrive after traveling across the country a week after giving my boss a practical ultimatum, almost die on the luggage carousel, and then, I find out there’s only one bedroom! And after that, we go straight to your sister’s house without any warning from you, and everyone thinks I’m there with your brother because you left me to fend for myself! And everyone was staring at me and looking for answers that I don’t have to give them! Because this marriage is a pact marriage, and I don’t actually know all that much about you!”

  I nod, and she takes a deep breath, gearing up to go again.

  “And your sister! She’s so freaking nice and kind, and after she knew that I was with you and not your brother Ty, she was so welcoming and interested in me and jumping to include me. I’m having lunch! With her and Sophie! Next week! Did you know that?”

  I shake my head because, no, I didn’t know that.

  “I am! Because they were so sweet and I couldn’t say no, and so now I’m having lunches with your sister like it’s a thing! Like we’re a real thing! Oh! And Sophie! She was so excited that she asked me to be a bridesmaid in her and your brother’s wedding! A bridesmaid, Flynn, in your brother’s freaking wedding!”

  I raise my eyebrows.

  “And I wasn’t prepared for any of it! Because you didn’t think it was important to tell me that we were going to your family dinner tonight! I don’t know what to do with that.” She inhales a deep breath, and I’m not surprised when she keeps going. “I mean, we probably should’ve at least worn our damn wedding rings! Your sister kept asking me, and I had to come up with a random excuse about them being fitted at the jeweler! When she asked me which jeweler, I pretended to have a coughing attack and told her I have a history of asthma—which I don’t! But I do have a growing web of lies with your family!”

  “What would be different if you’d known ahead of time?” I interject, and her chin jerks back.

  “What?”

  “Would you not be going to lunch with Winnie and Sophie?”

  Her eyes narrow.

  “Or Sophie and Jude’s wedding? Would you have said no to being in it if you’d prepared ahead of time?”

  “No, Flynn, that would be rude. But that’s not the point—”

  “It is the point, Dais. None of the results would have changed, but the amount of stress you’d have felt leading up to it would have been exponentially higher. You have a tendency to freak out a little.”

  “I don’t freak out that much.”

  “Daisy.”

  She huffs. “Okay. So, I freak out. But the decision to freak out or not should be mine and mine alone. I’m Julia Roberts, dammit, and I say who, I say when, I say how much!”

  I stalk toward her with quick, deliberate strides, and she tilts her chin back dramatically to keep her eyes on me during my approach.

  Her breathing quickens as I put my hands to her jaw and tip her head back even more, running the pad of my thumb over her plump pink bottom lip.

  “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

  “I am? You are?”

  I nod. “Even though I was trying to protect you from feeling anxiety I didn’t think you should have to feel, I should’ve given you a heads-up.”

  “Okay,” she breathes out through a whisper.

  “Okay, you accept my apology?”

  “Yes, I accept.”

  “Good.” I waggle my eyebrows. “Now it’s time to relax.”

  “Time to relax?”

  I nod briefly and then seal my lips to hers. She gasps, and I immediately slip my tongue into her mouth.

  She tastes minty and fresh from brushing her teeth, and the smell of her hair when I’m this close envelops me like a cloud of fog. The urge to recreate our first night together and lift her onto the kitchen counter to eat her out is strong, but the need to normalize her first night in our bed is even stronger.

  Hands to her ass, I lift her up until her legs wrap around my hips and her arms around my shoulders, and I turn to head down the hallway to the bedroom with her in my arms.

  She’s light and easy to carry, but the things she’s doing with her tongue inside my mouth are a little bit more of a distraction. We bump into the wall once or twice but eventually make it to my room. Her back hits the soft material of my black comforter, and moonlight filters in through the window, illuminating the features of her face and the gloriousness of her curls spread out above her head.

  Fuck, she really is beautiful.

  One day soon, I need to see those lips around my cock. But not tonight. Tonight, I need to be inside her. She needs to feel me inside her—so goddamn deep she won’t even know she’s in a bed, let alone my own, when we’re done.

  I pull her pajama shorts down the length of her legs, taking her pretty pink panties with them, and then scoot her up onto the bed until her shoulders touch the pillows.

  “Hold on to the headboard,” I instruct, taking her hands in mine and placing them where I want, rather than waiting for her to process the order and carry it out herself. “I’m going to fuck you hard tonight.”

  She needs it, I know, and if I’m completely honest, so do I. S
eeing Ty’s hands on her so casually felt…not good. I didn’t like it, and as much as I can’t exactly explain why that is, I’m ready and willing to do what I need to make myself feel better about it.

  And fucking Daisy until neither of us can breathe sure seems like it’ll make me feel better.

  Stroking two fingers through her center, I find Daisy wet and ready enough for me that neither of us has to wait any longer.

  “Keep your legs open,” I tell her. “I want you as deep as I can go.”

  Eyes wide, she nods and complies, spreading her thighs apart to make room for my hips to fall in between. She feels like heaven against me, and my already hard cock jerks in anticipation.

  With only a little maneuvering, I slide inside with ease, going slowly to give her time to adapt. I push past the limit, until the hilt of me is beyond the entrance of her, and she kicks her head back in response. Her eyes close, her fingertips curl into the comforter below, and her mouth rounds in pleasure.

  That’s it. “That’s a good girl.”

  Out and in again, I score a path for my thrusts while upping the tempo with each one. She pants slightly, the jolt combined with the relentless stroke at her most sensitive nerves making it hard to keep enough air in her lungs.

  “Oh. My. God,” she forces out, her words a staccato to match my hips.

  “Yeah,” I agree with her, moving my hands to go over the top of hers on the headboard. “Your pussy is gonna remember me tomorrow.”

  “Uh-huh,” she agrees.

  “My cock is going to remember you too,” I admit then.

  Truth is, I’m starting to think certain parts of me might never forget Daisy.

  Daisy

  After I lost my shit on Flynn about blindsiding me with his family dinner, he apologized and proceeded to wring my body dry with crazy, hot sex and an intense orgasm that still has my legs feeling weak.

  Personally, I’m more than okay with that sequence of events. Even if half of them threw me for one hell of a loop.

  Although, it’s a bit of a dangerous game. I mean, if every time I get mad at Flynn he gifts me with an actual apology and an orgasm, I might be tempted to start making up reasons to be mad at him.

 

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