by Wood, Vivian
“For supper?”
“Why not? Eggs and bacon taste great any time of day,” he quipped as he collected the ingredients from the fridge.
“You had me at bacon, baby.”
“Baby?” He raised his eyebrows and then smiled. His face broke out into the happiest grin she'd seen him wear in, well, maybe ever. “I’ve considered it, and I like it!”
“Really?” She hadn’t even really meant it that way, but if he liked it that much, maybe he liked her, too… Hope surged in her. Until the familiar self-doubt settled in. “You didn’t consider it for very long, maybe?” He silenced her with a kiss that smacked when he released her lips. Was he being playful? His eyes and mouth were still smiling.
“No maybes, I’m baby from now on. No backsies.” He stuck his pierced tongue out at her just a little before he started layering the bacon in a pan, whistling to himself.
Well, well. She'd seen a little bit of this side of him the last few days in Hollywood, but staring at him now, he was lighter and brighter than the sun, dancing around the kitchen. He’d even kicked off his sneakers and pulled off his shirt.
The hard lines of his muscular body entranced her immediately. Add in his carefree, relaxed attitude and the smile on his face… Please excuse her while she melted into a puddle and tried to re-form…
“Ouch!” His yelp snapped her out of her puddle-like state. He rubbed a spot just above his belly button.
“For the record, frying bacon shirtless is not the smartest idea I’ve ever had!” He was still smiling, laughing a little as he tipped the bacon into a waiting plate, popped out toast she hadn’t realized had gone into the toaster and cracked four eggs into the waiting pan.
“Do me a favor, will you, butter the toast please.”
“Okay.” More watching him than thinking about what she was doing, she took the pieces of toast in her hands and started cooling them, waving them back and forth like a flag at a raceway.
“What are you doing?” he asked, clearly amused by her movements.
She felt herself turning beet red before answering him dead on. “This is how toast should be eaten,” she informed him. “Cooled before it’s buttered so that it’s still crunchy.”
“And you questioned me about having breakfast for supper, yet here you are waving toast around.” He chuckled, shaking his head but turning his attention back to the frying eggs.
Once she deemed the toast cool enough, she buttered it just in time for him to slide the eggs onto them. They dished up some bacon and she followed him to the dining area.
They were mostly quiet while they ate, both ravenous after the long day they'd had and having had nothing but a few pieces of fruit for breakfast.
After dinner, she took their plates and the other dishes to dishwasher and loaded it, as had become their routine.
“Up for a movie?” he asked when she returned, already settled on the couch flicking through titles.
“Sure.” She curled up under his arm and he instinctively pulled her into his side. His movements were so easy here, it warmed her heart and her body all the way down to her toes.
One of the titles reminded her of something he had said to Anders earlier, about the home and needing therapy.
The warm feeling from seconds earlier was replaced by uneasiness in her stomach.
“Hey, Rhys.” He kissed the top of her head absentmindedly before fixing his eyes on her. “I was just thinking about something you said to Anders earlier, about the home being tough on you and him.”
He sat up like she'd burned him. Relaxed, easygoing Rhys was gone in a second flat.
“What about it?” he asked darkly. “So, we grew up in a home. A few homes, actually. So go ahead, sneer at me, pity us. We fucking made it out!” he practically spat at her.
She recoiled for a second at his unexpected reaction, but then she held his gaze with hers, taking a deep breath before continuing. “It’s not like that, Rhys. That not why I asked. I would never sneer at you! I just wanted to know if you wanted to talk. It seemed like you needed someone to talk to after we left. I’m not going to pretend like I know what you went through growing up in a home, but I can listen. I’m a really good listener.”
He looked at her with guarded eyes, as though searching her face for traces of the judgment he’d clearly become accustomed to expect when people found out about his childhood. Apparently satisfied with her intentions, he relaxed, took her hands, kissed her gently and then turned toward her.
He took a deep steadying breath, seemingly immersed in memories. “Anders and I, I told you when we met that I’d lived in places that would make your friend’s place look like a palace. We grew up in the foster system. Bouncing from one place to the next. It was hard to find places that would take two brothers, keep us together, especially when we were being little shits. We started getting into fights when we were practically still in diapers and it only got worse from there. It was bad for me, but Anders…” His voice trailed off, the pain raw and apparent when he continued.
“When we were about fourteen, he started hanging out with kids who we all knew were seriously into drugs. Fuck. It’s not like we were saints before then, we’d smoked a little weed and some other stuff, but it wasn’t a regular thing. I knew something was up with him. We’d moved to a new foster home a couple of months before, but he refused to talk to me. Insisted he was fine. Until one day he got himself so beat up that he was raced to the hospital. He broke down while he was high on pain meds. I’ll spare you the details… It turns out he was being abused. Some really fucked up shit. That’s where we met Dr. Kent. Changed everything for us.”
Wait. Realization dawned on her softly. “Dr. Kent from the charity gala?”
“One and the same. He saved us. Found us a place to live in one of the agency’s homes, with music teachers as our foster parents. We never told them, but I think they kinda knew. Got us playing instruments, I took to the guitar immediately and Anders got into the controlled chaos and noise of the drums. I think it drowns the noise in his head. We met Milo at our new school. Eventually we met Jett and Luc as you know, and the rest, as they say, is history.”
His eyes were glistening as she pulled him into a hug and climbed into his lap. “Fuck,” he breathed into her ear. “I’ve never told anyone that story. Not even the boys know all the details. Milo knows more than the others, but not everything.”
They sat like that for what seemed like an eternity before she started with her story.
“Like you said, you got out. And look at what you’ve fucking achieved! You are the most incredibly strong person I’ve ever met, Rhys.” She looked into his gorgeous eyes, wide and honest and it clicked. She was truly, madly, crazy deeply in love with this man. Her heart stuttered to a stop as she realized this and she melted into his strong, safe arms. No way could she tell him though, and he was looking at her curiously.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, just thinking about how strong you are, what you must have gone through. And what you made of it, I mean look at your life… At what you’ve achieved. You literally take my breath away, Rhys. I don’t mean the fact that you’re famous and everything. I mean that you’re who you are.”
She drank him in with her eyes, still in his lap, strong arms wrapped around her as he pressed his ear to her heart, his eyes closed.
“My life was kind of the complete opposite,” she began, not really knowing why she was telling him this but feeling like she needed to give him a piece of her soul in return for what he’d just told her.
“My parents controlled my life pretty much – no, exactly - until the day I accidentally found you on that balcony. What I did, what I ate, where I lived. College was never an option for me. My dad gave me a junior assistant position in his company as soon as I graduated high school so that my mom could keep me close, select a husband for me that my dad could groom to take over his company someday, told me when and what I could eat, the music that was appropriate to listen to…
You name it, they made the decision for me. To be honest, I hadn’t even heard of Misery more than your name mentioned on the radio before the night that we met at the Misery Party Mansion.”
“Misery party mansion?” He cocked an eyebrow at her.
“Well, I’ve only been there that one time, so I just kind of assumed…” she trailed off.
“Nah, the company rented it for all of us, Jett, Luc and Milo still live there. Anders and I moved out as soon as we’d made enough money to buy our places. We’ve had enough of totally communal living. Couldn’t wait to have places to ourselves. But then it was so quiet. I couldn’t stand the quiet after the first few hours, so I kinda moved back until you called and asked if a place to stay was part of the deal.” He played with a tendril of her hair and tucked it behind her ears almost reverently.
“Wait, I met you at the Misery ‘Party Mansion’ about a week after the charity event where we launched the video. How did you go from being your mom’s puppet to living with your friend and walking into people at the Misery party?”
Her face scrunched at the not-so-distant memory. “Well, I told you that night that I’d had a fight with my parents, do you remember?”
His eyes twinkled. “Of course I remember Serena, I remember every minute we’ve had together.” He cupped her face in his hand. “Still doesn’t explain how it happened.”
She took a breath and let it go slowly through her teeth. Here came the Bryan part.
“That night after the charity gala, I took a cab to my fiancé’s apartment.” He stiffened and his eyes hardened, the hands that had been stroking her back stilled.
“Fiancé?”
“Ex-fiancé. Hear me out,” she said in the most soothing voice she could muster.
“I had a headache, so I ducked out early. Once I was in the cab I realized my parents would be at the gala for hours still, Bryan had told me he’d be working late, so I figured I’d surprise him at his apartment.” She left out why she had been so eager to go to his apartment, Rhys already knew that he had taken her virginity and it seemed unnecessary to burden him with the details now.
“I was all excited, only, so was he… balls deep in another woman.”
“Wait, that night at the club, wasn’t your friend called Bryan?”
“Not my friend. One and the same Bryan. Oh, and Andrea, the girl he’d been buried in.” She almost couldn't look him in the eye, she was so embarrassed. How long before he realized, like Bryan had, how just plain boring she was? Josh’s voice when he’d told her the opposite played vaguely in her mind, but he was her best friend… not exactly unbiased.
“You should’ve told me, I would’ve punched the shit out of him for hurting you and then thanked him for the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” He wrapped his arms tighter around her, staring into her eyes intently.
“The best thing?” she asked disbelievingly.
“Yes, princess. You brought something into my life that’s never been there before.” He looked at her with a funny expression before he chuckled. “So, what’d you do? Kick him in his almost buried balls, or punch her in the face?”
“I’m embarrassed to say that I did neither. I fled. I ended up at Josh’s, drank too many huge glasses of wine, cried him a river and then passed out in his spare bedroom.”
His eyes darkened again at the mention of Josh, his grip tightening a little while waiting for her to continue.
“I went home the next morning, wineover as shit and walked in to my mom and Bryan yelling at me simultaneously. Bryan had the nerve to dig into me having spent the night at another man’s apartment and returning home in the same clothes ‘shamelessly’ and my mother ripped into me about ‘intruding on him unannounced.’ So I did the only thing I could think of, I broke up with Bryan, threw my ring at his head and stomped out the room. Only, the ring landed in my father’s coffee mug and my mother fainted.” She giggled at the memory now. It was amazing how only weeks ago it had seemed like that had been the end of her life, now it felt like that had been the beginning.
He shot a laugh at that part of the story and pulled her into a hug. “So you went back to Josh’s and he offered to let you stay?”
She was surprised that he’d drawn the conclusion so fast.
“Sort of. I stayed at home the next few days. My mother was horrified at mybehavior and thought it unacceptable that I’d broken off my engagement without giving him the chance to explain and to forgive him. Eventually I told them I wanted to go to design school, they both flipped. You’d have sworn I’d stolen from the family business from my father’s expression. My mother was of the opinion that I’d betrayed her and was never planning on carrying through with the plan to begin with. It dawned on me that if I was ever going to live my own life, I had to get away from them. So I packed my bags, went to Josh’s 'cause there’s no space for me at Katie’s and Mary was away. He offered me his spare bedroom until I figured things out. He went ballistic when I told him about you and then told me that I could only live with him if I was single. That’s when when I called you. And as you said, the rest is history.”
He kept quiet for a beat, taking in everything she'd told him.
“Riddle me this, princess. Would you feel the same way if I cheated on you?”
Her heart stilled, her ears pounding. Her hand flew out and swatted at his chest as she moved to scamper off his lap.
“Of course I would!” she exclaimed, but he only held her tighter to him, preventing her attempted escape.
“Hang on, is that your stupid half-baked way of asking if we’re exclusive?”
His smile widened. “Only if you want it to be.”
She looked deep into his open, honest expression. He may be slightly teasing her, but there was something else there. So she inched forward. “Only if you kiss me.”
He surveyed her expression for only a second before claiming her mouth with his, effectively wiping every thought from her mind again.
He flipped her over so she was on her back on the couch and kissed her deeply. “Thank you for telling me that, princess. I know it wasn’t easy for you,” he breathed into her ear, placing small kisses along her jaw and collarbone.
“Likewise, baby.” She tried his new chosen nickname and found that she liked it, generic as it was. I’ll think of a better, more original one when he’s not… oh god… Her thought fled entirely as he thumbed her nipples through her shirt and moved his other hand down her stomach and over her crotch.
He lifted her dress over her head before she even knew what was happening and brought his hard body all the way over hers. Their kisses heated up and their hips ground together. She moaned with need for him. It had only been since this morning, but her body was pulsing with want again and his breathing was ragged.
They kissed and touched until she broke and reached for his pants. He was still shirtless from cooking and suddenly he had kicked his jeans off. Only his briefs and her underwear separated them now. He growled at the feel at her almost naked skin and rubbed harder against her. He teased her nipples though her lacy bra until they were both tearing at it. He made short work of getting her out of it and clasped his mouth over her left nipple. He was still teasing her right nipple with his thumb but his free hand danced down her stomach and played with the hem of her underwear, tugging at it playfully and grazing her clit every now and then.
“Tease,” she moaned, which deepened when he sucked on her collarbone and slid her underwear off.
“Yeah?” he challenged. “You’re not enjoying this then?” His hands stilled.
She groaned with desire. He was going to make her say it. She just knew it.
“You want me to stop?” he asked, a serious expression on his face.
“If you stop, I’ll beat you with this pillow,” she threatened, holding a throw pillow over his face.
“Can’t have that,” he growled jokingly and slid into her.
It had been less than twenty-four hours since he’d last filled her, but
she sighed in relief at the feeling. He groaned and slid deeper. He started a slow, steady rhythm and pretty soon, she was moaning his name and thrusting her hips against his. “I know, princess.” His breathing was fast and the muscles in his back quivered as he reached down and stroked her clit, sending her straight over the edge. He slowed as she came down, kissing her gently.
“What about you?” she asked, mind still in a daze.
“Oh princess, I’m not nearly done with you yet.” He scooped her up and carried her to the master bedroom.
Hours later, she felt like she was going to pass out. Her body couldn't take any more. Although, she'd said that two orgasms ago and he’d kept on going. Now, though, he slid off her and there was a sheen of perspiration on his skin.
He pulled her against him and whispered to her as she fell asleep.
21
She knew that the bed was empty before she opened her eyes. Panic set in, then she realized where they were. He’d probably gone for an early swim or something.
She found pajamas in her suitcase, just shorts and a tank top and went off to find him. She found French toast in the oven and fixed a plate, piling on some syrup and cheese before she settled at the table on the patio. It could seat ten people easily, but it was just her this morning.
The French toast was delicious, and she was savoring the last of it as she spotted him jogging back toward the house over the beach.
Relief flooded her veins. She didn’t really think he’d abandon her here and she'd even checked to make sure his car was still here, but he’d pulled more than one disappearing act on her. Things had changed, sure, but she'd still needed to convince herself. He pulled her into a sweaty hug, but she didn't care. She wanted him as close to her as she could have him. She inhaled his musk and felt the butterflies go wild in her stomach.
“You like the French toast?” he asked as he pulled away from her. “You said no full-time housekeeper, so I made it myself.” He gave her a lopsided grin, proud of himself at her cleaned plate.
“Seriously? That was amazing, baby!” She threw her arms around his sweaty neck and he pulled her into a deep kiss.