I sighed in frustration. How many more ways could I say it? The thought I’d had last night about her resistance to accepting us because of her experiences resurfaced and nudged away some of my irritation. I could see a solution right in front of me. I’d circumvented the real reason we’d met at her work because I was afraid it would be too much, too soon. However, at this point, I’d already made my obsession with her quite obvious and she hadn’t run yet.
I stood and lifted her into my arms, frowning when she dragged the sheet with her to cover her naked body. Then again, it was probably for the best since her beautiful breasts would only distract me from the conversation. Moving to the chair I’d vacated, I kept her in my embrace as I sat down. I settled her in my lap with her legs hanging sideways over mine and put my hands at her waist to keep her upright, so we were face to face.
“Angel, it’s been a long time since I had any interest in women. And, I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you. From the first moment I saw you, I knew you belonged to me.”
“But—”
I pressed a finger against her lips to silence her. “It wasn’t in the shop. I saw you at Bean Cup and was so enchanted”—I shrugged a little sheepishly—“I followed you.”
Her eyes widened but I hadn’t removed my finger, so she didn’t speak. “I was terrified that I wouldn’t be able to find you. My intention had been to find out where you worked, then set up a meet, and gradually build a relationship with you. Then I saw you at Dirty Players and all of my good intentions flew out the fucking window. I hated the idea of you being in a place like that, knowing what kind of slimy customers you had to deal with, and worried over your safety.”
Macy’s expression softened and I took away my finger so I could tenderly kiss her lips.
“I went inside because I couldn’t go one more minute without seeing your beautiful face and I wanted, no needed, you. I still do, I will always need you. I—” I stopped abruptly. I’d been about to blurt out that I loved her, but I had a feeling that I’d already given her as much as she could handle for now. “I believe that answers your question, angel. And it should put to rest any lingering doubts you might have about me because of where we met. And—“ I quickly sped on when her mouth popped open, knowing where her thoughts were headed—“I never once thought of you as convenient, a one-night stand, or that you were easy because of your place of employment.”
Her mouth snapped closed and I grinned at the idea of making my feisty ginger angel speechless.
“You have me to support you now,” I mused aloud. “You could go ahead and quit.”
Macy’s spine went rigid. “I will not be a kept woman,” she snapped. I stifled a laugh at her turn of phrase. So fucking cute.
“I wasn’t suggesting that, angel. I was merely pointing out that you don’t have to wait until we’re married for me to support you.”
“M—married?” she shrieked.
My brows furrowed and I frowned at her tone of disbelief. “Of course we’re getting married.” My voice was stern, solid with conviction. I was not leaving any wiggle room in this.
“We can’t get married!” Her cheeks were flushed bright red with emotion.
“Why the fuck not?” I had to stop myself from roaring the question.
“We only met a day ago.”
“And if you’re pregnant?” I asked, trying a different tactic.
She swallowed hard. “Well, I suppose it would make more sense then, but—”
Problem solved. I cut her off by kissing her hard and then guided her to her feet while she was still flustered. If I sat there any longer with her barely clothed body so accessible, I would never get to work.
“I have to go, angel,” I said grudgingly and kissed her one more time. “I’ll be back in time to take you to work.”
“If you would just get me to my car, I can—”
“Macy,” I growled. She huffed and spun around, marching towards the connecting door to the other bedroom and on into the bathroom. I chuckled at the sight, shaking my head wondrously. How could so much personality fit in someone so tiny? She was certainly one of a kind, made just for me, and I would do anything for her.
That thought festered as I called goodbye to her through the bathroom door and headed to my car. On the short drive to my office, I considered both of our needs. I wanted her away from her current job and I wanted her permanently mine, with a ring on her finger that proclaimed it to every son of a bitch who looked her way. Waiting for her to get pregnant so she’d marry me, while definitely an enjoyable task, could take longer than I had the patience for.
Considering Macy’s desire for her future as well, an idea started to take shape. I could potentially solve both of our issues if I begged a favor from an old friend. It could be a win/win. And Macy would be none the wiser.
I let things go for a week or so while I put my plan together. Macy seemed happy to avoid the topics of marriage and babies, though, I noticed she hadn’t protested when I’d continued to fuck her bare. I was adamant about her staying with me and eventually she gave up the fight. I drove her to work when she had a shift and picked her up, keeping in close contact with Xander to make sure she was always protected. On the nights she had off, we chose to stay in and order food, or I cooked for her, and we spent more time getting to know each other. My ultimate goal, before I could call in that favor, was to get Macy to let me read her manuscripts.
I’d been slowly convincing her to bring more and more stuff to my house each time we swung by her place to pick up clothes. After seeing her dingy apartment in a questionable area of town, I wouldn’t allow her to go there without me at all. At the end of the week, when we stopped by, I asked again about reading her work. To my surprise, she grabbed a couple of padded envelopes from a small filing cabinet and hugged them to her chest, watching me nervously.
I didn’t pressure her about it and the next morning, I found one of them set on the bar in the kitchen where I drank my coffee and read the paper every day. Something told me that Macy was very talented, but once I opened the first page, I couldn’t put it down. The story, the writing, all of it was fucking amazing. My plan was definitely going to work.
“Kassidy Bell, it’s been a while.” I grinned into the phone, even though she couldn’t see me.
“Peanut Buttercup!” she exclaimed, using the nickname she’d given me in high school. “How the hell are you? And why haven’t I heard from you in almost a year?” Her tone was chiding at the end. I’d kind of lost touch with a lot of my friends over the last year. I didn’t realize what a shell I was becoming until Macy started breathing life back into me. Kassidy was like a big sister to me. Growing up, her younger brother, Dillon, had been one of my best friends. With our other best friend, Logan James, we’d gotten into a lot of trouble together. My parents were useless and when they took off right after I turned sixteen, I moved in with the Bells until I graduated. They weren’t my blood, but they were my family.
When I moved to Atlanta, we kept in touch for a while, but I’d let it slide the last couple of years. Dillon was still in Miami, where I’d spent my childhood, but Logan had moved to Boston and was now married with a kid on the way. Our lives had grown in different directions—Kassidy was an executive at a large publishing house in Miami, Dillon was a professor at the University of Miami, and Logan was a high school teacher in Boston. But, a large part of the blame for the lapse in communication laid with me. Guilt ate at me as I thought about how I’d pushed everyone from my life. I just hadn’t been in the mood to return calls or emails. I’d thrown myself into my work, only coming out of it when Weston dragged me away.
“Yeah, I’ve been”—I wasn’t sure how to explain it—“well, I’ll keep in better touch from now on. You and Dillon should come here for a visit.”
We shot the shit for a few minutes, talking about our families and reminiscing a little. Then, she got right down to business.
“What can I do for you, Rhys?”
�
�I heard you were a big shot publisher these days. Called to congratulate you.”
“Uh huh,” she muttered, her sarcasm laced with humor. “Spit it out, Peanut. What do you want?”
My grin widened. Kassidy didn’t take shit from anyone, least of all a guy she’d known since he was five. “I have a favor to ask.”
“I figured as much, but let me stop you right here. If you need someone to help you bury a body, you called the wrong Bell. Dillon’s the one with the shovel collection.”
I laughed deeply, reveling in the joy I felt at her humor, something that only days ago would have bounced right off of me. “Actually,” I knew just the way to Kassidy Bell’s soft side and I wasn’t above exploiting it—“I met someone.”
She squealed with delight, like a teenage girl. Kassidy was a hopeless romantic. She started to bombard me with questions and I answered a few, avoiding the topic of when we met. Then I steered the conversation back to the favor I needed.
“I want to ask her to marry me.” I held the phone away from my ear in preparation for another scream. When she was done, I continued my explanation. “Macy is very independent, which is sexy as hell, but I want to take care of my girl and watching her work at that seedy place is going to tear through the last shreds of my sanity.”
“I’m happy to help if I can, Peanut, but you seem to have forgotten that I live in Miami.”
“Oh, no,” I replied, realizing that she thought I wanted her to offer Macy a job. “Macy is an aspiring writer.”
“Whoa, Rhys,” she started, suddenly defensive. “No way can I publish a book just because you’re practically my little brother and she’s your girlfriend.”
“Fiancée,” I corrected without thought.
“Fine. Fiancée. It doesn’t change my answer.”
“I would hope you knew me better than that, Kass,” I grunted. “I’m not asking you to publish her book. I was going to ask if you could simply make sure it ends up in front of the right eyes.”
“Oh! Sure! That I can do,” she said brightly.
“Thanks. Oh, and one more thing.”
“You’re pushing your luck, Peanut Buttercup,” she warned. Though her use of my nickname indicated that she wasn’t really irritated.
“I just want to make it clear that she can’t know I was involved. I’ll make sure she submits it to the right place, but if you decide she’s worth taking a chance on, it has to be on her own merits. She’d be pissed as fuck if she knew I greased the wheels.”
Kassidy laughed. “I think I’m going to like this chick. When do I get to meet her?”
My heart warmed at the thought of Macy meeting my family. “You will meet her eventually,” I promised. “And yeah, she’s fucking amazing.”
She told me to shoot her an email once Macy had submitted her manuscript and then we said our goodbyes. I felt like a weight had been lifted from my chest as I got ready to leave the office.
Macy would be clocking out in fifteen minutes and I was buzzing with energy. I was going to take my girl home and fuck the hell out of her before I made love to her for the rest of the night. With that in mind, I placed an order for takeout on my way to pick her up. We were going to need sustenance.
8
Macy
Walking through the door of Rhys’s house after a long day at work, my eyes scanned the surroundings which had quickly become familiar over the past week or so. The spacious living room was decorated with brown leather furniture and forest green accents. The chef’s kitchen had gleaming stainless steel appliances, limestone flooring, dark mocha cabinets, and marble countertops. Being in Rhys’s space felt like coming home, a sensation which was new for me since my crappy apartment was nothing more than a crash pad. Our houses were on opposite ends of the spectrum, but it wasn’t the luxuriousness of his furnishings that made it feel like home. It was the man following directly behind me, his hands full of carryout bags from an Italian place I’d never had the chance to try before.
My feelings for Rhys were utterly unexpected, but in the very best way. He wasn’t just the hottie I’d given my V-card to, not that I didn’t appreciate how gorgeous he was or how amazing he made me feel when we slept together. He was the incredibly considerate man I’d somehow fallen in love with. As scary as it was and as crazy as it sounded, Rhys Campbell had become home to me. With the way he looked at me, how he touched me, his casual mentions of the future—I was pretty sure he loved me, too.
Case in point, the huge bouquet of flowers in the middle of the table where he was laying out dinner. I’d barely mentioned how much I loved tulips when we’d been watching a travel show about Holland on television the other day. When Rhys had come to pick me up and take me to work the next afternoon, he’d tried hiding the flowers behind his back. But, they’d been too big to hide and he’d had to drop them to the ground when I’d caught sight of them and threw myself into his arms. It was the first time I’d ever received flowers from a man. Another first with Rhys. He was bound and determined to have them all.
My dreamy smile was wiped from my lips as the scent of the dish he’d just opened wafted my way.
“Yuck,” I groaned, scrunching up my nose in distaste.
“Shit,” he muttered, slamming the box shut and getting up to toss it into the trash. “I forgot to tell them to skip the shrimp crostini when I added a few extra dishes to my usual takeout order.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered when he came back.
“For what, angel?”
“Having to skip one of your favorite dishes because of me.”
“I couldn’t care less if I never eat shrimp again. You’re way more important than food.”
I nudged him onto one of the dining room chairs and sat down on his lap. His harsh inhale made me smile. “Macy—”
I didn’t let him finish, determined to follow through with the idea which popped into my head. “I thought maybe we could take turns feeding each other. It would be another first for me.”
His hands slipped around my sides, over my belly, and up to cup my breasts. “That sounds like the best idea I’ve heard all day.”
I wiggled my butt on his lap as I leaned forward to snag a couple of the takeout boxes and a fork. I peered inside one of the boxes and grinned.
“Mmm, bacon wrapped something.”
“It’s fondi di carciofi,” Rhys breathed into my ear, sending shivers down my spine. “Bacon wrapped artichokes.”
“I’m going to need for you to tell me what each dish is, just like that. In Italian.” My voice was raspy and filled with need. “Because it’s sexy as fuck.”
“I know some French and Spanish, too.”
“Then we’re going to have to eat around the world until we run out of languages you can speak.”
“Whatever you want, angel.”
I lifted one of the artichokes to his lips, getting him to eat before I ditched my plan and swiped the food off the table so he could fuck me there instead. We worked our way through tasty meatballs with ricotta in a rich red sauce, a mushroom and red bell pepper risotto, and osso buco. When we were done, I gulped down the last of my wine and carefully set my glass back down, pushing everything away from the edge of the table.
“That was delicious, but I think I’m in the mood for some dessert.”
I slid out of his lap, turned and slowly lowered to my knees between his thighs. His grey eyes were startled for a moment, but then they filled with heat as he slouched down in his chair. “It looks like you have something particular in mind for your dessert.”
“All the times we’ve been together, you’ve barely let me taste you,” I explained as I undid his belt. “The pleasure you give me when your mouth is on me? I want that for you, too.”
His hands wrapped around my wrists, stopping my progress after I’d gotten his zipper lowered. “You don’t have to, angel.”
A hint of uncertainty crept up on me and my hands trembled beneath his. “Don’t you want me to?”
“Fuck y
es,” he groaned. “I love to see those pretty lips wrapped around my cock. But I don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything you don’t want to do.”
“I want this for me as much as I do for you.”
I must have said the magic words because his hands dropped to his sides and he lifted up enough for me to pull his pants and boxers down, releasing his cock. It sprang free, hard and thick with a drip of pre-come already at the tip.
My mouth practically watered at the sight of his large shaft in my hand, pulsing and throbbing in my grip, his piercing blinking at me from the top of his cock. I leaned forward and licked at the tiny pearl of liquid seeping from the head. I moaned as I finally tasted him, salty with a hint of something more that was uniquely Rhys.
“Mmmm,” I moaned, growing wet as I lapped at the small slit on the head of his cock with my tongue, flicking over the metal bar that brought me so much pleasure when he was inside me.
“More, angel. Please.”
He might have said please, but he didn’t give me the chance to give him more before he raised a hand to my hair and held my head in place while his hips lifted up. Slowly, inch by inch, he sank into my mouth until the metal bar pushed against the top of my throat towards the back. I tensed up, nervous that I was going to gag on his cock. But when I looked up and saw the raw hunger and need in his eyes, my worries disappeared as I focused on giving Rhys pleasure.
He didn’t resist as I pulled back until only the tip was left in my mouth. I sucked gently, flicking my tongue over the piercing and enjoying the sound of his groans above me. Gently squeezing the shaft of his cock with one hand to hold him steady, I slid my mouth back down over him, taking the entire head as deep as he’d been when he’d surged inside of me with that thrust earlier.
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