by Joya Ryan
Giving me a little more of his weight, he lowered to his forearms and slowly pushed another inch deeper.
“You okay?” he said on his own strangled breath, as if trying to hold back. As if trying to go slowly for my sake.
Who was this man? This intense, thoughtful man with the spellbinding eyes and an engrossing presence?
“Yes.” I held his face and kissed him. “More.”
He gave it to me. Pushing again, his body fitting with mine, not stopping until he was seated to the hilt. I inhaled sharply. Not from pain, but from how amazing the fullness felt.
“Fuck, Emma,” he groaned.
His shoulders gently shook, as if he was fighting himself to hold back. I knew he was. And I was tired of him thinking I couldn’t handle him. Couldn’t handle anything.
“I can take it, Rhys,” I whispered, sinking my nails into his back. He hissed and withdrew, then returned with another slow thrust.
“More,” I said again. And he did, still slow. Still holding back. So I scratched down his back. “Harder.”
Nothing about this was fucking. This was different. Some kind of connection between two people. And I had no idea how to handle it or what to call it.
Threading his forearms beneath my shoulders, he thrust harder. Gripping the carpet for leverage to hit deeper. His biceps bulged around me and his taut stomach muscles rubbed against my middle. My mind was racing, my pulse beating against my temples and thick pleasure was coating every cell and sprinting through my bloodstream.
Feeling all his strength, being consumed by it, was overwhelming.
I locked my legs behind his back and held on. Clutched to him — to this moment — with everything I was. Because reality was right outside, and for now, I wanted to escape it. Escape it with Rhys.
Over and over he surged into me, hitting that sensitive spot inside again and again. Drawing out more moans, more pleas, more lust. Buzzing my skin and heating my bones down to the marrow. I started smoldering from the inside out.
“Rhys . . .”
“I know, baby. I’m there too.”
He kissed me hard and on a final pump of his hips, I spiraled over the edge. He instantly stilled, as if basking in the feel of me coming apart around him. Remaining deep, he stirred. My inner walls milked him and sucked him deeper. With a low growl, he came right there with me.
I’d never felt more whole. Like somehow, Rhys had found pieces of me I didn’t even know were missing and gave them back. Something snuck up on me that I wasn’t ready for. The water behind my eyes I had been fighting all night, maybe all year, crept up and a single tear ran down my cheek. I batted it away quickly before Rhys could see.
He lifted back up to straightened arms, about to pull away —
“Wait.” I grabbed his shoulders, stilling him. “Will you just stay here, just for a moment?”
He wanted to say something, I could tell. But he just looked at me and nodded. Resting back down, he remained within me, and I stayed wrapped around him.
“Just for a moment,” I whispered again. Because right there, I felt safe. Felt the connection between us.
Exhaustion hit. So fast and intense it was like a slug to the face. I felt the last several weeks weigh down on me. And the fact that I hadn’t slept well in days came crashing into my body. My eyes instantly went heavy. The last thing I heard was Rhys whispering my name.
“Please . . . stay . . .” was all I could manage to say.
Chapter Three
Consciousness slowly drifted into my sleepy brain and there was one thing I was certain of: I was enveloped by a cloud and I never wanted to leave.
Peeling my eyes open, I adjusted to find a soft light coming from the slightly cracked door.
I was in a bed. Rhys’s bed. Surrounded by white sheets and fluffy pillows. Glancing at the clock I —
“Holy shit!” Scrambling up, I grabbed my folded jeans from the nearby chair and yanked them on. Seriously? The guy folded my clothes.
Speaking of “the guy,” Rhys came into the bedroom just as I buttoned my jeans and pulled on my shirt.
“You all right?”
“It’s three o’clock,” I said, pointing at the clock. “In the afternoon.”
“Yes.”
“I slept for a long time.”
“You looked like you needed it,” he said softly.
“Yeah, well, I have things I have to do today. Thanks for letting me crash here last night.” I grabbed my satchel and swung it over my shoulder.
“Emma.” He crossed his arms over his chest, standing directly in the doorway, physically showing exactly what I’d have to go through to leave. “I think we should talk.”
“I can’t right now.”
“Fine. Tonight. Have dinner with me.”
“I’m leaving town,” I explained. He didn’t seem pleased.
“Where?”
I shrugged and pulled my shoes on. “Don’t know yet.”
“Why?”
“I just need to get away.”
He raised his chin slightly. “Just a trip, then?”
I stood and smiled. “Yep, just a trip.”
He nodded. “So your brother must know your plans.”
My face fell, but Rhys kept calm as ever. Calling my bluff, waiting for me to confirm or deny. Either way, I was screwed because we both knew what he was insinuating.
“I like my privacy and I’m an adult. Not everything I do is run past Adam.”
“So he doesn’t know about these mysterious plans of you leaving town — certainly not running from anything, of course.”
“Yep. Certainly not. And there’s no reason Adam needs to be brought into this.”
I stepped toward Rhys until I was eye level with his chest. The same chest I’d seen, scratched, last night. I shook my head, hoping to dislodge the memories of my momentary lapse into neediness. My amazing night had somehow turned into tomorrow, and now Rhys Striker was nothing more than an obstacle.
“I’m leaving town too, Emma.” His voice didn’t hold a threat, one thing I was learning quickly about Rhys. He merely spoke the truth and let it land where it would. “I’m checking out tomorrow and going back home upstate. I won’t be here if you come running again.”
My instinct was to lie and tell him I hadn’t come running in the first place. But I couldn’t. Because that’s exactly what I’d done. It didn’t matter how much I liked last night . . . I had been weak. But I wasn’t going to delude myself into considering the possibility of there being more.
“Well, I guess this is good-bye, then,” I said, but he didn’t move from the doorway.
“Talk to me, Emma.” He uncrossed his arms and skimmed his palms down my arms. My stupid body instantly responded and goose bumps broke out.
“Please,” I whispered. “Let me by.”
I watched his chest rise on a deep breath as he stepped aside.
“Thank you,” I whispered and my hand reached out to skim across his stomach as I passed.
As I walked away, I felt his gray eyes watch me and something very sharp, very hollow jabbed my chest from the inside. And it stung more than that damn blade Castor had stabbed me with ten years ago.
~
“Want a refill, sweetie?” the bartender screamed over the loud booming music of the club. It was packed. The flickering lights and headache-inducing bass were almost more than I could stomach after the day I had had.
“Yeah, one more.”
He set about to make me a fresh drink as I looked around for the millionth time, searching for Ben. He should be here by now.
After leaving Rhys, I spent the next several hours packing and cleaning up the apartment. I left a message for Megan, letting her know I’d be out of town. She was somewhere between Greece and Rome, so I didn’t expect to hear back anytime soon.
I also called Adam to check in. He seemed preoccupied and I was grateful I didn’t have to go into more details other than that I was “traveling” again. I had packed a ba
g back at the apartment, leaving it by the front door, ready to go. I just needed to get my money and, if my luck held out, I would be on the next flight to anywhere but here before Mase even caught on.
“Here you go. It’s on the house.” The bartender winked and I tilted my glass in thanks.
Taking a sip, I looked around again. Seriously, where the hell was Ben? This place was equal distance between the apartment and his office. Not my ideal place to meet, but crowds meant safety and huge crowds made it easy to weave in and out unseen.
I took another sip and — damn these drinks were strong. I was only on my second and felt way more drunk then I should.
My cell beeped with a new text message. I pulled it out of my pocket and read it. From Ben, telling me he couldn’t make it after all tonight.
Which meant no money.
Just as I tried to form a plan B, black dots covered my vision and the feel of total inebriation flooded me full force.
“This isn’t right,” I mumbled to myself. I could hold my liquor better than most men. Something was off . . .
My head snapped up and scanned the room. Wall-to-wall people, dancing, laughing. Their faces blurring together until all I saw were sets of eyes. My vision wavered a little and I looked down at my drink and brought it to my nose to smell it.
“Oh God . . .”
I blinked wildly and spun in my stool. I scanned the room and saw . . .
Mase.
On the other side of the club, sitting in a booth and merely watching me. Waiting. Like a vulture. His dark angry glare zeroed in on me as a sick smile spread his face. Slicked-back hair matched his black goatee and weathered skin. He rose from the booth and slowly made his way toward me.
My brain refused to clear, instead, the haze that was engulfing my senses only took me under further. I was slipping. Losing my mind. My ability to function. The need to close my eyes, to fall asleep, for just a second, overwhelmed me.
The asshole had roofied me.
Panic was rising. I did the one thing I hadn’t done since I was young. I called out for help.
No one spared me a glance. I palmed my throat, wondering if the music was too loud or maybe I wasn’t screaming enough? So I tried again.
“Help!”
Nothing.
I attempted to move, to stand, but my legs wobbled and my head spun. All I saw were flashes of Mase. Coming closer.
Soul-shattering fear spread from my chest to every part of my body. This was it. Soon, he’d be right next to me, grab me, take me. And I couldn’t fight. Could barely keep myself awake.
The chase was over and he would win. What he would do with me, though, had yet to be determined. The thought of what he was capable of sent another slap of fear racing, giving me enough of an adrenaline boost to try one more time to run. But instead of fleeing, I stumbled and some woman cursed at me for being a drunk bitch and stepping on her shoe.
“Not drunk,” I said. “Need help.” I tugged her arm and she pushed me off.
I gripped the bar to support myself.
Large hands closed around my shoulders and I screamed, at least I tried.
“Emma!”
With the last alertness I had, I looked up to find Rhys, holding me.
“Please!” I gripped his shirt in my fists and faced him so he could see my lips move. I might not have been making much sound, but I used the last consciousness I had to speak. “Please, Rhys. He’s coming for me. Don’t let him take me . . . he’ll kill me.”
I clutched Rhys the best I could and his fierce gray eyes were the last thing I saw before my whole world went dark.
Chapter Four
My head was pounding and my body hurt like I had the world’s worst hangover.
The club — Mase — came rushing to my memory.
My eyes shot open despite the screaming in my skull, and I patted down my body. I was dressed in the same clothes and lying down on “the cloud.” The same one I remembered waking up on before. Second time this week I’d ended up in Rhys’s bed.
“Rhys?” I called out, but my throat was scratchy and dry and it came out more as a whisper.
“I’m here, Emma.” He sat on a chair near the edge of the bed. His big palm was warm as it enclosed mine.
I sat up and he handed me a glass of water. I took it, my hand shaking as I drained the contents.
Wiping my lips with the back of my free hand, I couldn’t get a handle on my trembling body. That had been so close. Too close. Mase could have stashed me anywhere in God knew what kind of condition.
Tears burned behind my eyes but thankfully, the ducts wouldn’t produce enough for me to cry. That didn’t stop a painful sob from trying to sneak up and break open my throat.
“Shhh, it’s okay,” Rhys said, sitting on the bed. He wrapped me in his arms. “You’re safe.”
“I called out for help,” I whispered, so ashamed because I knew better. No one had listened.
No one but Rhys.
“I know.” He cupped the back of my head.
With my ear pressed against his heart, I let the steady beat sink into me. Tried to match it. But everything from the past came rushing back.
Every shitty moment.
The way that punk’s palm felt over my mouth as he snuck into my bunk when I was twelve. The way Castor use to backhand me. Often, and always across the cheekbone. The way the knife felt sinking into my gut when he left me to bleed out. It all came back. And I felt it. For the first time in a long time. I felt every moment, and I was scared to my bones.
“But you came . . .” I said against Rhys’s chest. Of all the times in the past I had called out, no ever paid attention. Rhys came in out of nowhere like a knight to save the day. Save me. Squeezing my eyes shut, reality hit and I frowned. Pulling back, I looked up at him. “Why were you at the club?”
“I followed you,” he admitted. No hesitation, just the simple truth.
“Why?”
“Because something is going on with you and I’m worried.”
“But that’s not your place,” I said, anger welling up. “I can — ”
“You can what, Emma? Take care of yourself? Yeah, I saw how that worked out. You’ve been passed out for over eight hours. How could you have taken care of yourself then?”
I bit my tongue. My eyes were now threatening to start producing water.
“What is going on?” he said more softly. “You said ‘he’ was after you and he would kill you. Who is he, Emma?”
I shook my head. “Just . . . leave it alone, Rhys.” I got up, feeling a little shaky, but I forced myself to stand. “I need to get home.”
“Then I’m coming with you.”
Swiping hair out of my eyes, I looked for my shoes. Rhys bent to pick them up and handed them to me. The gesture making him all the more heroic and me all the more off-balance and upset.
“What is your deal?” I asked him, tugging on my boots. “You have a need to rush in a save the day or something?”
“Is this your way of saying thank you for saving your ass last night?” he said in an annoyed tone.
Yes, I guess it was. But I was beyond emotionally drained and couldn’t wrap my head around what to do next. Every plan I had was falling apart. I was still in Manhattan. Mase now likely knew I was at this hotel. Hell, he’d doubtless seen Rhys and now he could be a target. I was bringing people into this when I needed to be getting the hell away — like yesterday.
I needed to regroup and focus on the short term. Get to the apartment, get my bag, and go from there.
“I’m not letting you go alone, Emma. Maybe you should call your brother at least and tell him — ”
“No,” I snapped and stood to my full height, which was laughable compared to Rhys’s, but I did everything I could to make myself as big as possible. “Adam stays out of this, you hear me?”
“What is this, Emma? Because you attempting to break in to my hotel room, followed by getting drugged at some club and saying things like ‘he’ll k
ill me,’ sounds pretty serious and someone should know.”
“You know,” I spat back.
“Yeah, and you’re not telling me jack shit. What do you want me to do?” He was obviously growing impatient. Sounded even a little worried.
“Just walk away, Rhys.”
His eyes were hard and didn’t leave my face. Like that option never occurred to him. Shit, he really was a do-gooder hero, but I was done being saved. I had already dragged him further into this than necessary.
“You don’t owe me anything, Rhys. Hell, you barely know me. So just walk away.”
He looked at me for a long moment, then said, “I’m coming with you, Emma.”
I sighed, too tired to fight. “Fine.”
~
I didn’t even have to fish for my key because the apartment door was already open. Busted at the hinges as though it had been kicked in. Something sick rose in my throat as I reached for the handle to push it the rest of the way open.
“No,” Rhys said sternly and moved himself in front of me, his left arm darting back to keep me behind him. “Stay out here. I’ll check it out first.”
I was just about to argue with him, but his glare made me snap my mouth shut.
He walked inside more quietly than I’d ever heard anyone move. There wasn’t much to check or possible hiding places to uncover. The floor plan was open and I chanced a peek inside. Everything was trashed. Scattered and broken. My duffle bag by the door had been rummaged through. I reached over and dragged it toward me. The little cash I had had was gone.
Rhys checked the bathroom and two bedrooms, then came toward me walking normally again.
“Whoever did this is gone.” I rose and he eyed the bag I was just going through, stuffing things back in it. “Your travel suitcase?”
“Yeah,” I mumbled. “He took all my cash.” Granted, forty bucks wasn’t much, but it could have been a bus ticket.
“Who did?”
I looked at Rhys, then around the bleak apartment, unable to speak.
“Jesus Christ, Emma. Don’t you get it? This secret of yours is putting more than yourself at risk here.”
“I know.” I hung my head.
“What if Megan was here? What if — ”