CHAPTER | TWO
The party had been pure torture. Labor Day festivities, cold beer, and good friends aside, the sight of Kelsey in a bloodred bikini had nearly been Rhys’s undoing. The pale swells of her breasts nearly spilling out of her top, that ridiculously small waist above outrageously lush hips and thighs . . . Damn, he got hard all over again just thinking about her.
Too bad he wasn’t the only one hard for Kelsey. Rhys grimaced. Tucker’s feelings for her were deep and true and abiding, and Jeremy, a man everyone knew played for keeps, intended to make her his submissive. Still, Rhys refused to be strong-armed out of Kelsey’s life by loyalty or authority. He burned for her every bit as much as the others.
Soon, he would make her see that. Somehow.
Jeremy might have provided a plan so they could learn Kelsey’s feelings. Tucker might have provided the key so they could research what might be in her heart. But Rhys intended to take full advantage of the opportunity to make her his own.
He’d sneaked away during the party earlier and done something designed to ensure that Kelsey would call Rhys tonight after her pretend assignment from her boss, then invite him inside. All he had to do was wait.
Pacing his bedroom, he stared out the window again—straight into Kelsey’s. His beautiful neighbor never closed her blinds, thank God.
Finally, she entered the room and stripped off her cover-up. The bikini top came next, then the bottoms—and she stood blessedly bare. And gorgeous.
Rhys wished like hell that walls, windows, and fences didn’t separate them. He’d kill to see that beautiful skin up close. Touch it.
But to achieve his personal mission, he had to serve the collective one first. Quickly, he sent a text to Jeremy:
Everyone is finally gone. Call her now.
Less than thirty seconds later, Kelsey jumped, threw the cover-up over her head, and darted back down the hall.
A minute later, Rhys was quiet as he opened her front door with Tucker’s key and slipped inside, locking it behind him. Yeah, he should probably wait to see if Jeremy could get her out of the house on this “errand,” but impatience chafed. Besides, to leave, Kelsey would have to change clothes . . . which meant she would get naked first. He couldn’t bypass the opportunity to see her up close and personal.
Once inside, Rhys heard Kelsey on the phone, pacing the kitchen. The deferential tones she used with Jeremy set his teeth on edge.
“I’ve had too much to drink to drive to the office tonight, sir, but I promise I’ll be in early and finish proofing that brief for you.”
A moment later, she added, “I had two more margaritas after you left.” Then, “I didn’t realize you’d need my help tonight.” She sighed. “I realize that’s not good for me. I’m sorry, sir.”
Kelsey fidgeted. “No, I don’t have lunch plans.” Another pause. “My job is to help you however I can, sir. I’ll plan on attending the meeting with you. Do you need me to make lunch reservations?”
Rhys grimaced at Kelsey’s tone. She sounded breathless, almost aroused. Her boss liked to tie women up and order them around. On one hand, it bothered him. His independent Kelsey into that? Really? On the other hand, the thought of seeing Kelsey bound and ready to take whatever he wanted to give her excited the hell out of him. He liked the vision better without Jeremy in it.
Sighing, Rhys shoved the thought aside and crept through the foyer, past the living room, circling the back of the dining room, then peeking his head around the corner into the kitchen and den. He was in luck; Kelsey was looking out the French doors into her shadowed backyard, submissively responding to yet another of Jeremy Beck’s commands.
Fuck.
He’d worry about her boss later. After all, she might be intrigued by Jeremy, but she hadn’t let him touch her. Maybe she didn’t have any real feelings for the guy and simply reacted instinctively to the command in a boss’s voice. He hoped like hell that deference didn’t mean anything.
Rhys entered her darkened hallway, then crept to her guest room/home office and shut the door behind him.
Her computer hummed quietly. A quick search of her files revealed nothing more than a few tax records, her playlists, family photos, and mostly work-related e-mails. She was still logged into her Facebook account, but her wall held greetings from a handful of high school friends wishing her a happy Labor Day. Nothing from a lover.
Next, Rhys picked up her cell phone, which sat beside her laptop. He scanned her recent incoming and outgoing calls. Her mother, her aunt, her cousin, Jeremy, Tucker, and himself, period. If she had a lover, she wasn’t communicating with him, and that wasn’t Kelsey’s style.
Shit. Now what? Maybe she kept a journal. He looked around the little room, rummaged through her desk drawers. Other than bills and house papers, they were empty. Maybe the diary was in her bedroom . . .
Tiptoeing across the hall, Rhys could hear Kelsey murmuring something in more of those worshipful tones that made him grit his teeth. Lucky bastard, Jeremy.
With a shake of his head, Rhys slipped into Kelsey’s private domain and spied her little red bikini on the pale carpet. His cock hardened in a painful rush. She’d looked fabulous in it, laughing, playing hostess, so natural and unaware of how gorgeous she looked with dancing dark eyes and her riot of brownish-red curls. He knew she looked even better without the bikini.
“No, sir. Really, I’m tipsy. And tired. I promise I’ll be in early.”
Damn it, Jeremy hadn’t been able to get her out of the house. So now his time was really limited. Rhys forced himself to focus.
He looked across her dresser, scattered with car keys, jewelry, and other knickknacks. Nothing that stood out. Her rumpled bed was unmade, her tiny nightstand covered by a little lamp, a candle, and what looked like a fairly racy romance. Did that cover have a woman with more than one guy on the front?
As he reached for it, he heard Kelsey say, “Yes, I know you’ll reprimand me, sir. Whatever you feel is necessary, I understand.” She paused. “Good night.”
Then she slammed the phone in its cradle and began stomping down the hall, her footsteps echoing across the hardwood floors.
Hide! He hustled into the shadowed confines of her walk-in closet and scrambled behind her dresses along the back wall, praying she wouldn’t find him before he could get out. Otherwise, he’d have to have a good explanation for being here. Which he didn’t. And there would be hell to pay.
Kelsey entered her bedroom with a shaky sigh and darted straight for her nightstand. Through the crack in the door, he could see her wrench open a drawer. She withdrew a pair of rumpled paper bags and tore into them. As she extracted the items, Rhys clenched his fists to hold in his groan.
Her battery-operated rabbit and a slender, curved vibrator.
She was going to masturbate. Fuck!
Plopping her items on the bed, Kelsey tore off her cover-up, put her iPod buds in her ears, switched the MP3 player on, then lay down. Her skin looked so flawless and fair against the dark sheets. Her breathing picked up, lifting her chest with each inhalation, her hard nipples stabbing the air. Rhys got hard all over again. Yes, he loved watching her through her window, but to be mere feet away from her? Surely, he’d spontaneously combust.
Before moving next door to Kelsey, he’d preferred tall, skinny girls with straight hair and sun-kissed skin. One look at Kelsey and he’d barely looked at another woman. When he’d met her, heard her laugh, experienced her warmth, he’d been a goner.
She closed her eyes, took a deep breath. Time to call the others for a backup plan. It went against his grain to let the others in on her private moments, many of which he’d watched from his bedroom window, dick in hand . . . but he might not get out of Kelsey’s house undetected without their help. Damn it.
He hit Tucker’s speed dial. Not a second later, her friend picked up. “What did you find?”
“Hang on a second,” he whispered, not knowing how loud her iPod might be.
Then he flipped over and dialed Jeremy, who answered immediately. “Well?”
Rhys conferenced the men in together. “I didn’t find anything helpful, and now, she’s masturbating. I’m hiding in her closet, trying to figure out how in the hell I’m going to get out without getting caught. Ideas?”
“Masturbating?” Tucker choked.
“Yeah. She’s naked on the bed with her sex toys. And she looks flaming hot.”
“Goddammit,” Jeremy growled. “Don’t look at her.”
“Bite me,” Rhys tossed back. “She’s ten feet in front of me. Of course I’m going to look.”
“Would she hear the phone ring?” Kelsey’s boss snapped. “If I can get your eyes off her by calling again—”
“She wouldn’t hear it. She’s listening to her iPod. But I can’t walk past her; she might see me.”
Moonlight and the nearby streetlamp filtered light through the slats in the blinds. Rhys watched Kelsey preparing to get down to business. He had to restrain a groan at the sight.
“Oh, hell! She’s cupping her breasts.” Her voluptuous, full, mouthwatering breasts. “And she’s pinching her nipples. Damn . . .”
Jeremy groused out a curse. “If you’re going to watch this, you’re going to share details. Every one of them.”
The tone set Rhys on edge. “Fuck off.”
“I helped you get into her house with a phone call and a plan,” Jeremy argued. “Tucker lent you his key. If such a gorgeous sight is going to fall into your lap, you’re going to share with us. Or we won’t help you with an exit strategy.”
As if he hadn’t proven it time and again, Jeremy displayed once more why he was one of the most sought-after attorneys in Texas. The man could flat argue with anyone and win.
“Fine.” Rhys ground out between clenched teeth. “She’s scraping her nipples with her fingernails.”
Rhys could feel their excitement over the phone. He felt the same keen sense of arousal . . . which only multiplied when Kelsey slid a hand across the flat of her abdomen, caressing down to the inside of her thigh. Her legs parted. He swallowed.
“Touch me ...” she murmured. “Yes.”
She dipped her fingers inside her pussy, and Rhys nearly lost his mind.
Tucker choked. “D-did she just beg someone to touch her?”
Fucking hell . . . “Yeah.”
“Any idea who she wants doing the touching?”
“Where is she imagining someone touching her?” Jeremy barked.
Before he could answer, Kelsey lifted her fingers from between her legs, and Rhys got a good glimpse. “Fuck, she’s wet.”
“You see her pussy?” Jeremy demanded.
“That’s a terrible word,” Tucker chastised.
Jeremy scoffed. “You like cunt better?”
Rhys ignored them. “It’s her fingers. They’re wet.”
Tucker swallowed. “She really touched herself?”
“Dude, she does it all the time.” Rhys rolled his eyes.
Her friend let out a shaky breath. “I think I’m going to explode.”
Easy to relate to that feeling, especially when Kelsey began a slow, rhythmic rubbing of her clit.
“Please . . . ” She groaned. “Like that. Oh, yes . . .” Her hips lifted. “I want it . . .”
“Damn it,” Jeremy snarled. “I’ll give it to her. Relentlessly. Until she begs me to stop. When she does, I’ll just give her more.”
Not if Rhys had anything to say about it. That would be his privilege.
“But I can’t,” she whimpered. “Too much . . .”
Damn it, who did she picture sharing her pleasure with? What the hell did her imaginary lover do? Say?
A moment later, she grabbed the slender wand, flipped it on, and eased it inside her. Her back bowed off the bed as it disappeared inside her body.
“Oh my God ...” she cried.
“What?” Tucker and Jeremy both snapped.
“She’s using her vibrator.”
Kelsey punctuated Rhys’s announcement with a cry of pleasure. It filled the room, heating his blood. On the phone, Tucker groaned. Jeremy’s silence had its own sound of careful restraint. He hoped neither of them had taken their cocks in hand. The last thing he wanted was to hear some other guy get off to Kelsey’s cries of pleasure.
Though he had to admit, he was tempted to stroke himself in time to her moans.
With one hand, she thrust the slim wand in and out of her hungry body, the sounds of her juicy flesh pushing the edge of his restraint. Finally having a soundtrack to this visual was killing him.
With the other hand, she groped for her rabbit. She found the base first, flipped it on, then clutched the buzzing purple toy and dragged it between her legs, settling it right over her clit.
“Yes! God, yes! I need it! That’s so good . . .”
“I can’t listen to this and do nothing. I’m coming over there,” Jeremy growled.
Everything inside Rhys protested. “Stay where you are, damn it. You’re going to help me get out of here when she’s done, but this isn’t a party.”
She gasped. “Please. Oh God . . .”
“I can’t take it,” Tucker muttered. “What is she doing?”
Flushing. Arching her back. Biting her lip. Clutching her toys. Moaning. And . . .
“Coming.”
“I love you . . . you . . . you ...” Kelsey panted.
Then she rent the air with a sharp, high-pitched cry that went on, became a low growl of satisfaction that nearly had Rhys climaxing in his jeans.
“I’m going to paddle that woman’s ass for this torture as soon as I get my hands on her,” Jeremy promised.
“You can’t hit a woman!” Tucker protested.
Before Rhys could say that he wouldn’t mind seeing Kelsey with a pink bottom, her boss answered. “How likely are you to forget the sound of her orgasm? Ever? How many times will you play it in your head the next few days? Weeks? Months? How many times will you masturbate to it and wish to God you were hearing it in person because you’d given her that much pleasure? How many times after your self-induced orgasm will you be bitterly disappointed that you were only torturing yourself with the sound because you don’t know who the fuck she’s fantasizing about when she brings herself to climax?”
No one said anything for a long minute. Rhys could hear Kelsey panting as she slowly resumed normal breathing. On the phone, her other two admirers each struggled for self-control.
“You’re right,” Tucker finally said. “I’ll never forget that sound. And since Rhys didn’t find anything in his search, we still don’t know who she wants.”
“Or who she loves,” Jeremy added. “Are you sure that neither of you knows about another man in her life?”
“We’re the only men who ever visit her house,” Rhys said. “I have nosy Mrs. MacDermott across the street watch her when I’m at the station, and she always clucks that even her fourteen-year-old granddaughter has more boyfriends than Kelsey.”
“She sees no one at work. I intentionally keep her far too busy for an office romance.”
“I talk to her folks every other week or so,” Tucker said. “They don’t mention a boyfriend. Believe me, I ask. And as far as I know, except her dentist appointment last week and grocery shopping, she hasn’t been anywhere.”
“Maybe her lover is purely imaginary.” Rhys winced as he said it. That would pretty much kill their collective hope.
“Or it’s one of us, and she just can’t say it,” Tucker suggested. “I’m wondering . . . Kels and I have been friends for so long, maybe she thinks bringing up sex would be awkward. Or how does a woman tell her boss that she’s fallen for him? Or a neighbor she’s never even dated? For all that Kelsey is independent, I don’t think she’s brave with her feelings.”
“Another something we have to thank that prick Alex for,” Jeremy muttered.
“Totally,” Tucker agreed. “So maybe . . . we just have to keep trying individually to reach her.”
Jeremy hesitated. “I still think Rhys’s idea of getting her drunk would be more effective.”
“I won’t take advantage of her when she’s tipsy.” Tucker’s disapproval blared through the phone.
“I just want to ask her questions, not tie her to the bed and fuck her all night . . . though that plan has a lot of appeal.”
“Kelsey and bondage do not belong in the same sentence.”
Jeremy snorted. “That’s your opinion. Which, by the way, is wrong.”
“Look, I know the nasty bedroom games you play, but Kelsey is much too sweet to be aroused by that crap.”
The way Jeremy laughed wasn’t nice. “Then why is she wet at work all day long? And why does she get wetter the more I command her?”
This argument was going nowhere.
“Stop, both of you,” Rhys insisted.
“Let’s give it a week or so,” Tucker suggested. “We could all question her separately to see what we can learn, then touch base again.”
“We can meet at my office some late afternoon when you’re both available.”
“Won’t Kelsey be there?” Rhys pointed out.
Jeremy shot back, “I’ll demand she do something in another room.”
“Demand?” Tucker clearly didn’t like the sound of that.
“I’m good both at being her boss and a Dominant. She’ll comply.”
“She’s not a damn dog.”
Rhys sighed. “Stop it! We’ll each try to pry the answer out of her separately. We’ll meet up at Jeremy’s office next week and be totally honest about the outcome. I’d still rather see her happily settled with one of us than some loser we don’t know who could hurt her.”
“All right,” Tucker grumbled.
Jeremy’s voice was firm. “Agreed.”
Tucker sighed. “What do we do if, by next week, we still don’t know anything about Kelsey’s feelings?”
Rhys paused. Jeremy sighed. Together, they said, “We get her drunk.”
The honeyed bliss of release was gone when Kelsey opened her eyes. The tingling in her arms and legs receded, her heartbeat returning to normal. That electric, so alive feeling slowly dissipated, leaving something jagged and empty in its place.
Slowly, she opened her eyes. And she was alone. Again.
Shoving aside her toys, she tore out her earbuds, drew her knees to her chest, and hung her head. How long could she stay in this limbo, desperately wanting three men and having none because she didn’t know what they really felt and was too afraid to upset the status quo? Because she couldn’t risk choosing one and potentially having the other two disappear from her life?
Tucker she could never live without. He knew her down to her core. He was the first person she thought of when she needed a hug. The only person she’d bared her secrets to had been him. Just as she’d listened in return. His quiet, sexy ways left her breathless. She itched to touch him, discover how much deeper their friendship could be. Doing without Tucker would leave a hole in her heart from which she’d never recover.
Jeremy . . . She’d been working for him for nearly four years. His absence in her life would kill her. Without him, she feared she’d morph from a confident, independent female back to the spiritual equivalent of wallpaper. Her self-assurance soared under Jeremy’s hot stares. He’d taught her when to crush opponents and when to show compassion. He made her feel vital, vibrant, needed—and like the kind of woman who could inspire the forbidden. He aroused her as no man had, his commanding streak the stuff of her fantasies. They just . . . clicked.
Rhys often reminded her not to take her life, her job, her problems—or herself—too seriously. He was her positive outlook, her silver lining. He’d taught her that things happened for a reason. Besides preventing her from being too maudlin, he shared her passion for movies with sophomoric humor and was her resident handyman. He was always willing to eat whatever experiment she dished out in the kitchen. And always backed it up with Moose Tracks ice cream. Without him, she’d forget to embrace all her tomorrows and smile gratefully for each new sunrise.
How was she ever going to choose? But how could she keep denying her feelings—and fearing theirs?
Kelsey sighed. She’d had this argument with herself a thousand times. And a thousand times reached the same conclusion: She had to keep her love for them to herself.
Rising slowly, she padded to her bathroom and shut the door. A sumptuous bubble bath might relax her enough to sleep. Of course, she could give herself another orgasm . . . but pleasure without her fantasy men—Tucker, Jeremy, and Rhys—was losing its blush.
And the depression afterward was getting heavier by the climax.
She turned the handle on her temperamental bathtub, praying for hot water. And waited. And waited.
Cold water sloshed over her fingertips. Damn this tub!
Groaning, Kelsey closed her eyes. Why now? She had three incredible men to try to soak out of her heart.
Call Rhys or pray for sleep that probably wouldn’t come? Kelsey chewed on a ragged fingernail for a moment, then sighed. No contest.
She padded across the hall and grabbed her cell phone.
“Hello?” he answered.
That was it? No How’s my sexiest neighbor? Or I never thought you’d call, baby. Just hello? Even weirder, Rhys’s voice on the other end sounded stilted. Shaky.
“You all right?”
He swallowed. “Great.”
Sounded more like aliens had overtaken his personality. But if he didn’t want to talk about whatever was bugging him, she wasn’t going to push it. More than once, she’d been down about her hopeless situation with these great men, and Rhys had encouraged her to confide her troubles in him. But she’d remained silent. She couldn’t pry now and expect him to spill if she wasn’t willing to do the same.
“Is this a bad time? If I’m interrupting something—”
“Not at all. Just hoping to see you again.”
God, she’d love to see him too. And that was so dangerous.
She winced. “Even if it’s to fix my bathtub?”
“Absolutely. I’ll be right there.”
Before she could say anything, he ended the call and she heard his knock on her front door. Damn, he must have been walking and talking at the same time. And she was still standing here stark naked.
Throwing on her cover-up, Kelsey dashed down the hall and opened the door. She caught her breath. Rhys stood there in faded jeans and a tight gray T-shirt that clung to every ripped, rugged muscle. The breeze ruffled his short tawny hair. Those green eyes of his were like lasers, fastening on her face, then drifting down in a hot gaze to the zipper secured just above her cleavage. Like he wanted her. Her nipples peaked.
Awareness that she wore nothing beneath a thin bit of white terrycloth was sharp as a blade—and just as disconcerting.
Rhys’s narrowed gaze fastened on her breasts. He gripped the door frame and raised his stare to her face again. She’d never seen this side of him. No teasing or laughter. No flirting. Desire broke across his expression, taut, harsh, unapologetic. Though he didn’t say a word or make a move, his want detonated like a bomb between them. The explosion rocked her.
She swallowed, shook. Should she let him in? What would happen if she did?
Nothing. She was strong; she had to be. To give him what she wanted—what they both wanted—would upset the delicate relationships she had with all three men.
“Come in.” Her legs trembled as she stepped back to admit him.
He brushed against her as he entered her foyer, and she bit back a gasp at the rush of tingles. A flash of dizzy need assailed her.
God, this was a thousand times stronger than any orgasm she’d given herself, and he’d barely touched her.
“Your cheeks are flushed, Kelsey.”
I’ve been stroking myself and thinking of you.
Forcing a shaky laugh, she shut the door, enclosing them in the privacy of her house. “I had a wrestling match with the bathtub and lost. You know how I am when I lose my temper.”
The corners of his mouth lifted, but it wasn’t exactly a smile. “What’s the problem?”
As Kelsey retreated down the hall to her room, hoping the little white garment covered her ass completely, she beat back a rising panic. Nothing was different tonight. She could let Rhys in her bedroom—and had a dozen times at least. He would enter, go straight to her bathroom, fix the problem, flirt, then leave. This was same old shit, different day.
But tonight, he touched his palm to the small of her back, his big body hovering behind her, his chest brushing her back. His scent, like earth and pine, wrapped around her. Kelsey got weak-kneed all over again.
“Kelsey? The problem?”
Right. “I need it hot.”
“I’d love to give it to you as hot as you can stand it,” he murmured in her ear.
Oh God. His words shivered down her spine. “I meant the water.”
His expression said that he didn’t believe her. She wasn’t sure she did either.
As they rounded the corner to her bedroom, Kelsey drew in a nervous breath. Ten minutes. If he was coming on to her, she could be strong and resist him that long.
“I turned on the water a few minutes ago and . . .” Kelsey risked a glance at him over her shoulder.
He was staring at her bed, at the rabbit and vibrator she’d accidentally left there.
Mortification rushed over her in a hot, sickening wave. Oh, please don’t let him guess that I’ve masturbated to thoughts of him . . .
“Fix the water temperature. Please.” She pushed him toward the bathroom.
Rhys didn’t budge an inch. Instead, he pulled her closer and braced his hands on her hips. She couldn’t possibly miss his erection against her belly, hot and pressing. She trembled again.
“Kelsey, baby ...”
She closed her eyes to avoid his probing stare. “Don’t say a word.”
“It’s all right. You have needs. I want to fulfill them.”
Right now, she wanted that too, so badly, she could nearly taste him. He’d be salty and musky and so damn male . . .
“It’s complicated.”
“It doesn’t have to be. I’d never hurt you. I just want to take care of you every way you’ll let me.”
Oh God, oh God, oh God. She had to stop this now, and she knew one way to scare Rhys off in a heartbeat. He hated clingy women. Three had attached themselves to him at last month’s community barbecue. He’d cut them all off cold.
“It wouldn’t be right for either of us. I’m twenty-eight, Rhys. I want to get married, start having children. You’re a few years younger and—”
“Let’s do it.”
Kelsey’s jaw dropped. “Y-you want to get married?”
“To you? Absolutely. I think about you . . . Damn. It’s constant. So is my desire.” He caressed her cheek. “And my love.”
She blinked, drew in a shaking breath, clutched his thick biceps for support. Was he trying to say that he didn’t just want her, but . . . loved her. “Truly?”
A smile crept up his lips as his hand drifted to her shoulder. “I know we usually share laughs. But I’m serious. If I thought for a second that you’d marry me, I’d be on one knee with ring in hand, begging you.”
Her shaky breathing nearly became hyperventilating. Oh my God. “We’re friends, Rhys.”
“We could be a whole lot more.”
“I had no idea you felt that strongly.”
“You’re it for me, Kelsey.”
“How can you know that? I mean, we’ve never—um ...” His revelations were so startling, she couldn’t form a coherent sentence.
“Kissed? Had sex?” He arched a golden brow. “We can solve that right now.”
The bed was in her peripheral vision. They could be on it—together—in the next few minutes. She could have Rhys as her lover, have one of her fantasies fulfilled.
Temptation crashed through her. Her stomach knotted tight. Even the thought made her wet. In the past, he’d subtly suggested that he’d like to sleep with her, wrapped it in a flirtatious joke or double entendre. She’d blown him off. Nothing veiled about his words tonight.
If she turned him down now, would she be doing the right thing? Or would she regret it?
“You’re thinking too hard. I want you; you want me. I love you.”
He looked at her expectantly, those green eyes shining with honesty. He loved her. Really, truly loved her. Kelsey couldn’t lie to him. The moment was too sincere, too raw, for anything else. “I love you too.”
“Ah, baby…” He beamed and wrapped his arms around her. “Let’s start there. The rest we’ll worry about later.”
She shouldn’t. Kelsey knew that. This would change her relationship with Rhys—and Tucker and Jeremy.
But when Rhys leaned in and settled his mouth over hers in a hungry press, she was gone.
He was like embracing a mountain, big, fresh, powerful, undeniable—a force all his own. At the insistent urging of his lips, she opened to let him inside. The sweep of him against her tongue was a big burst of taste and sensation. Crisp and clean, he filled her with a flash of sensation that swept her with heat and want.
Kelsey threw her arms around his shoulders and lost herself in his touch. He cupped the back of her head, lavishing one heart-stopping kiss after another on her until she was breathless and achy.
Toys had nothing compared to this man, and Kelsey feared that, after tonight, she’d never be satisfied with them again.
“Baby,” he breathed against her lips. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted . . . waited.”
“Yes, I do.” More than he could possibly imagine.
“Do you think about me when you touch yourself?”
His low voice rasped in her ear, then he pressed his mouth to her throat, her collarbone, the swell of her breast above the cover-up. One of his hands made its way up the back of her thigh to cup her bare ass. Under that kind of assault, Kelsey couldn’t be anything but honest.
“I have.”
“Jesus,” he muttered under his breath. “You don’t do for yourself anymore. You come to me. Understand?”
It wasn’t that simple, and she tried to find the words to explain, but he yanked the zipper of her cover-up down to her abdomen and pushed it away from her breasts.
“Fuck,” he whispered. “You’re gorgeous, baby.”
Kelsey had to resist an instinctive urge to cover her breasts. “They’re big.”
“Yeah,” he said, as if that were the most wonderful fact ever.
Then he cupped one, his thumb brushing her nipple. It was already hard, but his touch pinged reckless pleasure all through her body. She gasped at the electric sensation and felt her sex gush again.
Rhys’s mouth covered hers once more, now devouring, heat-seeking, yearning. She melted like a wax on a long-lit candle as he cupped her other breast, rolling the nipple, pinching. Her sex clenched with need.
A long moment later, he tore his mouth away. “When I kiss you, you taste amazing. But I have to taste you everywhere.”
Anticipation leapt in her belly, and before she could blink, Rhys bent to her breast, cradling her nipple against his tongue, between the clamp of his teeth. He stung her, then soothed with a suction that made her cry out and clasp him even tighter.
As he moved his head to her other breast and repeated the process, he shoved his foot between hers and nudged her legs apart. A heartbeat later, his fingers stole across her clit, and she mewled at the sweet friction of his touch.
“That’s it, baby. You’re so wet for me. I’m going to make you feel so good,” he said thickly against her nipple before he sucked it in again.
As she stood, trembling, needing, he dropped to his knees and fit his mouth over her. Eureka! She’d thought a hundred times about Rhys or Tucker or Jeremy orally pleasuring her. Fantasies had nothing on reality.
At her cry, he sucked her clit into his mouth, toyed with it using his tongue, and plunged two fingers into her slick, clinging entrance.
It was as if the orgasm she’d given herself twenty minutes ago had never happened. Kelsey couldn’t ever remember an ache so sharp and unrelenting. And still he didn’t let up. He merely lifted her thigh over his shoulder as he swiped his tongue over her again in a wicked caress. She fisted her hands in his thick hair. When he added a third finger inside her and rubbed a sensitive spot that only her little wand had ever touched, all the blood left her head. Kelsey swore she was going to fall to the floor and beg.
She’d missed a man’s touch, that hard passion—but Rhys’s need stunned her. Desire crashed down on her as he licked her little bud again, teasing her one second, eating her alive the next.
“I-I’m going to come.” Please . . . She dug her fingernails into his shoulders, clinging to the edge of sanity where she couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe—and didn’t care.
“I’ll look forward to that.” His fingers hit her sweet spot again. “Very soon. How long has it been for you, baby? You’re tight, and I don’t want to hurt you.”
Kelsey couldn’t remember that long ago. “Since David.”
Rhys stilled. “Five fucking years?”
She nodded. Robbed of his touch, every nerve ending in her body ached ever more. “Rhys!”
“You’ll never have to ask again, baby. You’ll be lucky to go five hours without from now on.”
Kelsey had barely raised her brows at that statement before Rhys stood and unfastened his jeans. She caught a mere glimpse of his jutting cock, thick and blunt-headed, before he lifted her in his arms, legs spread. A second later, he impaled her, stretching her impossibly wide. Her flesh stung and burned as he burrowed deeper, thrust harder. Euphoria smoldered just under beyond her reach.
Amazement followed. This was happening. Rhys was naked and deep inside her. It wasn’t a fantasy or anything in her head. They were making love, and it was finally real.
“Damn, you’re mind-blowing. Tight. Warm,” he muttered against her throat. “I love you.”
In two steps, he reached the bed and lowered her to it, then slammed deep inside her.
The head of his cock flared against her most nerve-drenched spot. She moaned as orgasm pressed close and clamped down on him.
She’d always imagined that sex with any of her men would be incredible—it had fueled her fantasies for months—but this was way beyond anything she’d dreamed up. As he moved against her, their skin grew damp, clung. Breaths synched up as he shoved into her deeply, fiercely, cupping her ass, chanting her name. He plundered her mouth with abandon. As each second passed, he grew harder, his breathing rougher, her pleasure headier.
“Rhys!” She clawed at his back and kissed her way across his corded shoulders, bucking up to meet him.
“I need to see you come for me, baby.”
The burn behind her clit swelled, accelerated. Her muscles tightened. Her world stopped.
Then exploded.
She screamed as pleasure detonated through her body. Rhys tensed, his cock swelling as he groaned in her ear. Deep inside, she felt him thick and heavy and hot as he came.
She soared, weightless, timeless. Treasured. And so in love. No way could she live without having Rhys like this again.
As his strokes slowed, he rained kisses on her face. Flinging her arms around his neck, she rubbed her cheek against his, then nuzzled his neck. She felt released, reborn in his arms. To her shock, tears wet her cheeks.
As reality slowly hit her, they became wrenching sobs.
Being with Rhys had been earth-shattering, beyond her every fantasy. What would happen next time they saw Tucker and Jeremy? Rhys would touch her, assume it was now his right. Tucker would be shocked, possibly hurt. Jeremy would be enraged.
She’d lose them both.
And if she pushed Rhys away right now, she’d lose him, too.
Why had she given in to temptation?
“Hey, baby, no tears.” Still buried inside her, Rhys brushed her hair from her face. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“N-no.”
But he’d made her life beyond difficult. Scratch that. She’d made it difficult. Rhys had merely given her what they’d both wanted. Now, she had to deal with the consequences.