“Yes, sir,” the bartender said then strode off to the next customer.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Zoey said, color rising to her cheeks.
“Yes, I did,” Rhys said, leaning an elbow against the bar. “You deserve to enjoy a couple fine drinks as much as everyone else here.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, but those are my issues—”
Rhys had his arms around her, pulling her close. “Issues that are the result of trauma. You’re not asking; I’m offering.” He lifted his glass, wanting to show her that real men earned trust. “To a fun night.”
She smiled softly, a new warmth in her gaze that made his chest expand, and clanged her glass with his. “To a fun night.”
After she took a sip, he placed his glass back on the bar and drew her close again. “I’d like you to stay a little later after your friends leave tonight. I can drive you back to Brooklyn later.”
“Oh,” she said, wide-eyed. “So, you don’t just plan on teasing me all night?”
“Never,” he said, licking his lips when she licked hers. Damn, that mouth tempted him. Her innocence seeped into the air around him, tasting sweet and eager. “Ask them to leave at midnight, all right?”
“Okay,” she said. “Am I in for a good surprise tonight, then?”
He lowered his hand from the small of her back to her bottom, pressing her against his erection. “A surprise? Most definitely.” He dropped a soft, teasing kiss against her lips. “Midnight, Zoey, that’s when our game will begin.”
He leaned away and grinned a slightly dark smile when he caught the arousal in her expression. To move things along in the right direction for their night ahead, he turned away and chuckled to himself at her loud gasp when he set the vibrator to full speed.
Chapter 10
Shortly after midnight when the party ended and all the voices grew quiet, Zoey felt the energy shift in the air. Elise and Hazel had gone home, and so had half of the people in attendance. Zoey had said goodbye to her friends in the circular driveway as they hopped in the chauffeured car Rhys had arranged for the night. When she strode back toward the house, a security guard met her there. One she’d seen working at Phoenix before. He gave her a gentle smile and handed her a black metal butterfly mask. “Rhys requested you wear this tonight.” He gestured down the lit pathway that led into the forest. “Follow it until it forks then go right.”
Zoey glanced down the long stone path and smiled at him. “Thanks.” Her stomach danced with nerves as she tied on her mask and followed the cobblestone path, but halfway down, she stopped short. Erotic moans filled the air, all blending together like a beautiful song.
“Zoey.”
The low vibration of Rhys’ voice hummed nearby. She glanced back, finding him striding toward her, wearing only his black dress slacks, a gold mask on his face. His gorgeous body glistened with the soft hue coming from the gaslit lanterns. Every muscle flexed and moved with his long strides. He looked like a warrior that belonged in another century, ready to defend and protect against any threat. When he got close, he turned on the vibrator again, and a strangled moan broke from her throat, her knees weakening.
“You don’t play fair,” she said when he reached her. She’d never been so sensitive before. Maybe that was his intent.
“I never said I would play fair,” he murmured, taking her hand and leading her forward, continuing around the bend of the pathway.
The night was a perfect mix of warm and dry, and when they broke free from the forest and entered a clearing, Zoey couldn’t stop her surprised gasp. Not because of the light buzz against her clit, sending shock waves of pleasure through her, but in the middle of the clearing was a large round cushion a few feet off the ground. On it, dozens of men and women were engaging in every type of sexual act Zoey knew of, and some she didn’t. The more she watched, the more she didn’t know where some people began and some ended. It became impossible to absorb it all. Men were having sex with men in all stages of foreplay. Women were teasing each other while they rode the men beneath them. Masks covered identities, but naked bodies were being cherished. Sex being explored and indulged in, without any insecurities in sight. It occurred to Zoey that this was freedom. The act of simply enjoying what feels good without judgment.
She felt the sensual energy brush across her, the need consuming her. Before she could decide where to look, a man knelt in front of her, his big, hard cock greedily available.
“I’m at your service,” he said to her. “Tell me what you’d like.”
She stared down at the muscular man, who rested his hands on his thighs, awaiting her command. It was clear that whatever she wanted—any fantasy she ever dreamed up—she could have from this strong man.
“He wants to pleasure you,” Rhys said from beside her, with no waver to his voice. “The choice is yours.”
She became lost in Rhys’ smoky eyes. The choice was completely hers. He would respect whatever she wanted, allow whatever would make her happy. But as she looked deeper into his molten eyes, a truth she couldn’t ignore appeared. This wasn’t just sex between them. It wasn’t only about the eroticism, the game. Because if it were, she’d gladly accept this man’s offer to experience something new, something different. But she didn’t want the man who offered her pleasure. And for all Rhys had done for her, all the kindness and strength and everything in between, she wanted him to know it. “I don’t want him,” she said, hearing the emotion touching her voice. “I want you, Rhys. Only you.”
Something flared in his eyes. Something possessively hot and addictively sweet as she moved around the man kneeling at her feet. With hot moans of pleasure fluttering through the air, she settled in front of Rhys. He dipped his chin, his hands loose at his side as she reached for his belt and unbuttoned his pants. As she slid them down over his sculpted ass, she purposely ran her hands over him, and she relished the way his jaw muscles tightened.
She kept her eyes on him and slowly lowered to her knees next to the man, who rose and headed off elsewhere. Rhys stroked the side of her cheek, staring at her the way a wolf stares at its next meal. “I want you,” she told him, reaching for his mighty cock. He was thick and hard as steel as she stroked him. She was no expert at giving a blow job, but she’d watched a sensual blow job porno on the Internet and studied every detail, learning ways to pleasure him like he’d pleasured her.
When she tickled her tongue around the tip’s rim, she felt Rhys’ hard shudder under her tongue. She wanted him to feel her appreciation, her trust, her gratitude for the woman she knew she was becoming in the short time she’d known him. The way he was mending all the shattered parts of her heart with little regard to what he needed. And with every swirl of her tongue, obvious desperation and need filled him, showing how much he needed to be touched too. Not out of sexual need, but from a deeper connection.
She kept her eyes on him like she’d seen the woman do in the video last night, while she sucked on each testicle then slowly dragged her tongue up the length of his shaft. Sometimes, she tickled, other times, she licked harder. She didn’t need a manual to see when the teasing became enough and Rhys demanded more. His hot gaze told her as much. Not wanting to deny him what he was due, she closed her eyes and turned her full attention onto his cock. Heat flooded her when he thrust his hands into her hair and growled, a low, unforgettable masculine sound. He began pumping his hips, taking pleasure in her mouth, and she rejoiced at being the reason he felt so good.
Then his legs were trembling, his fingers tightening in her hair. She felt the seconds when he pulled back, like he wanted to ask permission. She grabbed two fistsful of his ass and sucked her lips around the base of his cock. At that, Rhys’ rough groan brushed across her, overtaking all the other moans coming from the orgy. Her mouth soon filled with his semen, and she swallowed quickly, loving the way he jerked against her, losing himself in the pleasure she gave to him.
When he finally released the tight grip on her hair and she looked up
at him, his head was tipped back, his chest heaving, sweat glistening off his incredibly toned body.
She kissed his thigh and said up at him, “Whatever you want tonight, I am yours, Rhys.”
He dropped his chin and his brows came together, an unfamiliar emotion reaching his eyes. Breathless, he gently stroked her cheek with his thumb for a moment, a beat passing between them. The next second, she was in his arms and he held onto her bottom as he walked them down another path, far away from the sex in the forest.
When the pathway stopped at a stone cabin, he moved them inside and set her down on the bear rug in front of the fireplace, into a kneeling position. The space consisted of a king-size poster bed. But she couldn’t look away from the raw emotion on his face. He cupped her chin and held her gaze. “Explain this change in you.”
She blinked at the seriousness of his voice. “What change?”
He leaned down, bringing his gaze down to her eye level. “You are looking at me like I can have your soul if I want it. Why?”
Tonight, all along, the plan had been to pleasure him like he’d pleasured her. Now, with those smoky eyes holding her captive, the truth seemed right there, ready for her to grab it. “Because you deserve the same kindness you give.”
Obviously seeing the things she wasn’t saying, he leaned in farther and asked, “Why?”
Emotion crept up into her throat. “Because you’re a good man.”
His fingers tightened on her chin. “Why, Zoey?”
The words fell easily. “Because I feel safe with you.”
His voice turned rough, unhinged. “Why?”
For a year, she’d been caged in. So afraid to speak her truth, but not now. Not with him. “Because I trust you.” She rose and cupped his face, moving closer until there was no space between them. “Because I have never felt like this with anyone, and I don’t want to fight this. I’m sick of fighting the things I feel. Sick of refusing to believe good things can happen. I want you, Rhys. Not the fantasy. I want the man behind the mask.”
His jaw muscles clenched once as she reached back and unlaced his gold mask. She let it fall from her fingers to the ground with a clang. Following her lead, he reached back and removed hers. Then his lips met hers, and this kiss was different. Everything about him was different. Rhys was a man who wore many masks, but he was her favorite without one. He kissed her with a hunger she couldn’t catch up with. He kissed with meaning, with passion. But alongside all that, his kiss bled with pain. Loneliness. Neediness. Vulnerability. And those were things she understood.
Realizing she could give him exactly what he needed too, she quickly caught up with his intensity and kissed him back, climbing up his body until he had her in his arms, and he laid her out on the bed in the middle of the cabin. The bare tip of his cock touched her drenched folds. His kiss turned more urgent, his request loud even though he didn’t say a word. Phoenix rules were clear: all participants had to provide monthly medical records showing negative STI and AIDS tests, plus all women were required to be on birth control. She trusted him, and in those tests, as she shifted her hips, taking him inside her. His rough groan brushed against her ear, and she shuddered with the same euphoria.
He rocked into her slowly, intimately, his eyes holding hers with every thrust. She explored his body with her hands, feeling all the muscles and grooves that made up this man. Soon, she felt joined, not only physically but emotionally, every shift of his hips bringing them further together. Until she became lost in him, safe to let go and fall into the place he brought them. They might not make sense on paper, but their souls knew each other, somehow understood each other. She arched her back into the pleasure, her toes clenching as she climbed higher and higher, absolutely nothing between them now but this magical, unexplainable connection.
His thrusts grew faster, harder, until they moved together in a perfect rhythm. The musky scent of their sex swept through the air alongside Rhys’ woodsy aroma until it all became too much. Too impossible to hold onto. And when he came in a wild rush of deep groans and hard thrusts, he took her over the edge with him.
That’s where she stayed, in his arms, in his safety for many, many minutes.
When she finally returned to her body and reopened her eyes, she discovered him staring at her with a sweetness she’d never seen from him before. Nothing was between them anymore. Nothing had ever felt so real before. He saw her, all her faults included, and she saw him. The man behind the mask.
Gaze locked on her, he said roughly, “You said you wanted me.”
She nodded slowly, cupping his smooth face. “I did. I do.”
He shut his eyes for a moment and breathed in deeply before looking at her again. “There has been no one for a long time. No one I have let in since I lost someone dear to me.” Her heart broke, knowing he spoke of his late girlfriend, Katherine, and realizing for the first time that she wasn’t the only one with some serious hang-ups. He leaned into her touch and added, “For you, Zoey, there is no pain I wouldn’t endure for more time with you.”
Every spike in her heart, every lock on it, exploded. “Rhys,” she whispered, beginning to wonder what this meant for them now. “I—”
His kiss promptly cut her off, ending a conversation she knew neither of them was ready for.
Chapter 11
The following morning, Rhys was riding a high. The sun was shining brightly outside his office window on Phoenix’s main floor. The sky was as clear as the eye could see. Last night had made him…happy. A feeling he had not felt in a long time. He hadn’t touched a woman on such an intimate level since Katherine, and he’d crossed that line with Zoey last night. It made him remember how good it felt, having a woman at his side. It opened something warm, a closed-off space in his heart. The part of him that had once wanted a wife, a family, and he could see him having those things with Zoey. Going to bed with her every night, waking up next to her in the morning, sharing adventures together. As he continued to stare out the window, he couldn’t ignore the truth anymore. He’d crossed the emotional line.
Damn.
“Is this a bad time?”
Rhys blinked and swiveled in his chair away from the window, aware he wasn’t alone in his office. Archer stood in the doorway. Rhys waved him in. “Not a bad time at all. What’s up?”
Tension creased the corners of Archer’s eyes. When he fully entered the office, Rhys understood why. Behind him, Hilary Du Pont, a Phoenix member, made her way through the door. She was the daughter of Gregory Du Pont, the CEO of one of the top tech companies in New York City, and Rhys quickly put two and two together. “Good morning, Hilary.”
“Hey,” she said in a small voice Rhys had never heard from her before.
Archer gestured to the client chair. After she sat, she bowed her head to her wringing hands. Archer gave Rhys a knowing look and a nod as he took the seat next to her. “Hilary has something she’d like to tell you.”
She had yet to look up, so Rhys said as gently as he could, “Hilary, I hope you know you’re safe here. Anything you say now will not leave this room.”
“I know I’m safe here,” she finally said. “It’s just really hard for me to say this aloud.” She drew in a long, deep breath then looked at Rhys, tears in her eyes. “Jake Grant assaulted me.”
Rhys had to control his temper at the brokenness in Hilary’s gaze. “When did this happen?”
“Six months ago, at a party,” she explained with a shaky voice. “I only had one drink there, but obviously, it was drugged. I woke up in his bed the next day, and he acted like nothing was wrong. I don’t remember what happened between us, but I was sore in intimate areas that morning, so something happened.”
Sickness roiled through Rhys’ gut. He had to keep his feet planted on the ground to ensure he didn’t do something stupid and go to Jake’s house. The last thing Zoey and Hilary needed were reporters or the police digging into the reason Rhys attacked Jake. “Did you report the incident?” he asked.
A tear slid down her pale cheek. “I told my mother the morning it happened. She took me to the hospital, but my father talked me out of the rape kit.”
Rhys restrained his curses, stretching out his fingers atop his desk not to tighten them into fists. Hilary’s shoulders curled, and at that, Rhys rose and moved to the fridge. He offered her a bottle of water. “I’m sorry your father failed you.”
Hilary took a quick sip then held the bottle in her lap, her knuckles white. “You know how it is. Your family is probably just the same. A scandal would hurt our name. That’s where his thoughts were.”
Sadly, Rhys did know how it was. His parents would have buried such a scandal for him too if the situation called for it. A family name meant everything in corporate America, even if that meant hurting a loved one. “So, they told you to be quiet?”
“My father did, yes.”
Archer interjected, “But something must have changed. You told Zoey you want to go to the police.”
A swift hardness swept over Hilary’s face, stealing the weakness from earlier. “Yes, I changed my mind that night Zoey had her first show. The look on her face when she took off her mask. I’m sure no one else realized it, thinking her mask accidentally fell off, but I’ve seen that look on her face. I see it every time I look in the mirror. And I saw her looking at Jake, and then saw him leave. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together.” She took another sip of her water. “After I saw that, I hired an investigator to look into it. He showed me Zoey’s photograph online and Jake’s remarks.”
But not Scott’s. From the beginning, Rhys had assumed Jake ran this show and Scott got involved in something he should have stopped. He’d seen Scott’s guilt when he confronted them. The ghosts following him. Ghosts that Jake did not have. Rhys breathed deeply, controlling what he felt, to keep his head in the right space to help Hilary. He shot Archer a look.
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