Chasing Day Series: Chasing Day & Catching Day

by Twyla Turner

  Rhys lifted her chin with gentle fingers. His other hand brushed her bangs from her eyes. Day looked up at him with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation. She bit her bottom lip and he used his thumb to pull her lip slowly from her teeth. He lowered his firm lips to her lush mouth. When his mouth touched Day’s for the first time, she was shocked by the heat that radiated through her body. Chase had been the only one that could make her melt. With him, it was love, passion, and desperation. With Rhys, it was purely carnal. She hadn’t had sex since before she and Chase had broken things off, so her body responded instantly to Rhys’ skilled mouth.

  He started off soft, placing delicate pecks against her lips. Then he gradually drew her bottom lip into his mouth and between his teeth. Day’s hands gripped his forearms as he let his teeth slowly scrape across her lip, finally releasing it.

  Day licked at her tender lip and looked up at him with dark chocolate doe eyes. Rhys’ control slipped and he grabbed her face. Their mouths collided with their need to taste each other, Day giving as good as she got. She wanted to forget, she wanted to feel passion again, and she wanted to be desired. If Rhys could give that to her, Day would gladly take it.

  His tongue stroked against hers, and her body immediately responded by melting into him. Rhys pulled her close as she kissed him back, and she could feel the ridged outline of his arousal against her stomach. Her pulse pounded in her ears and her skin felt like it was on fire. Day knew that they’d have to stop soon or they’d be arrested for public sex. She personally didn’t want to go to jail in a foreign country.

  Day reluctantly pulled away from the heated kiss. Rhys’ chest rose and fell rapidly as he looked down at her. The look was predatory. She was Red Riding Hood and he was the wolf. Chase had always looked at her with love and adoration, but the look in Rhys’ eye was consuming.

  “I s-should go inside.” Day’s voice trembled.

  “You should.” Rhys said as a warning and a shiver ran down Day’s spine.

  “G-Good night, Rhys.” Day turned to open the door.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow to practice for your solo,” Rhys said quietly, almost as a threat.

  “Mmhmm.” Day mumbled and quickly escaped into her building.

  Once she made it up to her studio, she slammed the door shut and fell against it. She had a very strong feeling that cello wasn’t going to be the only thing she was practicing the next day.

  ~~~

  The next evening, Day was in the middle of Rhys living room, in his beautiful yet masculine London flat. He had made her a standard guy meal of spaghetti for dinner, and it was phenomenal. She was beginning to wonder if he did anything badly though all she wanted to do at the moment was strangle him.

  “Stop! Do it again, Daylen.” Rhys bellowed in frustration. “You’re better than this!”

  “I don’t know what you want, Rhys! I’m doing my best. I’m playing with passion. What more is there?!” Day shouted back, equally frustrated.

  Rhys let his head fall back in exasperation. He put his hands on his hips, looked up at the ceiling and took a deep breath. When he had calmed down enough, he looked at Day and spoke in a quieter tone.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be an asshole,” he apologized. “As always, you’re technically flawless. And yes, you are playing with passion. But there’s one more thing that’s lacking.”

  “What?!” Day said, literally on her last straw.

  “Confidence!” He exclaimed passionately. “You hide behind that cello as if it’s a bloody shield. You’re entirely too timid. And I know you have fire in you. I felt it last night.” Rhys looked at her pointedly. “You don’t kiss like a shy and timid girl. You kiss like a confident woman. So where the hell is she?!”

  “I don’t know! This is different. I’m playing an instrument, not making out with someone.” Day frowned at him.

  “I beg to differ.” He quirked an eyebrow at her.

  “How so?” Day asked, her face looking doubtful.

  Rhys walked towards her and he stopped in front of her, forcing her to look up at him from her chair.

  “Have you ever taken the time to really look at your cello?” Rhys asked as he squatted down in front of the instrument.

  “Huh?” Day scrunched up her face.

  “Have you looked at the curving lines? Or noticed that it has a remarkable resemblance to the female form?” Rhys’ voice dropped a few decibels and his cultured accent swirled around her.

  His fingertips caressed up the polished, red-stained wood. Day could have sworn she felt the gentle stroke up her own body.

  “How the curving form rests between the legs of its player?” Rhys’ fingertips moved to the tops of her thighs, covered by her long black skirt and stroked down to her knees. “In my personal opinion, the cello is the sexiest fucking instrument there is.” Rhys got up and walked behind her. Day’s breath hitched when she felt his breath next to her ear. “And you, my dear, are an incredibly sexy woman playing it. There is no need to hide,” he whispered in her ear.

  Rhys reached for her legs from behind. His hands gathered the material of her skirt and pulled it up until it bunched around her hips. Her thick caramel thighs in beautiful contrast to the deep reddish brown of the cello between them. Rhys nipped at her neck as his thumbs softly caressed the skin high on her thighs, where the skirt was bunched. Day’s eyes rolled back and her lips parted, small pants escaping through her lush pink lips.

  “When you play, you become a part of the cello, because she is you. You don’t hide behind her. You play her like you’d want to be played.” Rhys breathed against her neck.

  His long elegant fingers wrapped around the front of her neck. He positioned them like he would on the neck of the cello, in E minor. Rhys’ right hand slid over Day’s thigh, towards the apex of her legs. She trembled, helpless because she couldn’t shut her legs with the cello in the way.

  Rhys’ fingers reached her panties and he wasted little time, pulling them to the side. His fingers stroked up her drenched cleft, saturating them before moving up.

  “Now sing,” he whispered as his fingers strummed her clit.

  “Ahh!” Day cried out.

  Rhys’ fingers on her neck moved to another chord position. While his fingers below continued to strum her hardened nub. Day whimpered and moaned as he played her in time to the Vivaldi sonata she had been practicing. At the song's crescendo, Day cried out as she came around his fingers.

  “Beautiful,” Rhys breathed against her neck. Day turned to kiss him, but he pulled back. “Play first, then we continue where we left off.” He taunted her as he raised his wet fingers to his mouth and sucked gently.

  Day bit her lip with the need for more. She felt languid and sensual as she clutched the neck of her cello, placing her fingers on strings in E minor. She positioned the bow on the strings below. Day pulled the bow across them as she began the song again.

  “Feel the cello reverberate against your thighs. Let it radiate up to your clit. Connect with her on another level.” Rhys coached her softly, sensually.

  Day closed her eyes and bit down hard on her bottom lip, as she indeed felt the vibrations of her instrument pulsate through her. She’d never thought of her cello the way he’d broken it down for her, and playing it felt different. Day lost herself in the music and the sensations that it brought to her body. Again, at the crescendo of the song, her body clenched in a mild orgasm. It wasn’t as powerful as when Rhys played her, but it was still shocking nonetheless. Her mouth popped open and a small cry escaped her lips. Day’s eyes flew to Rhys and he smiled at her intimately. She ended the song and they stared at each other for a few heated moments.

  Rhys walked towards Day from across the room. He took the cello and bow from her and laid them in their case. He then turned back to Day and she looked up at him as he held out his hand to her. She took it and he instantly pulled her into his arms. His fingers wrapped around the back of her neck. He used his thumbs under her jawline to push
her mouth up to his.

  Even when he wasn’t pretending to play her, he still was. Every stroke of his tongue against hers. Every part of her body that his hands touched as he stripped her bare in the middle of his living room was a testament to his control over her.

  He walked her backwards to his bedroom. The back of her knees hit the mattress and she fell back. Normally Day would try to cover herself with her arms and hands, embarrassed by her chubby, soft body. But the way he’d broken her down earlier, pulling out her sensual side. Day felt sexy and confident.

  She watched as Rhys pulled off his shirt, displaying his lean muscled soccer player’s body. Her eyes followed his hands as they went to undo his pants. There was no shyness on his part, as Rhys confidently pushed down his jeans and boxer briefs. His erection bobbed proudly before her. He wasn’t as large as Chase, but he had absolutely nothing to be ashamed of in the penis department.

  The quick thought of Chase nearly doused the flames that had been licking at her flesh, since Rhys had first started his seduction. Day blinked back tears, sadness filling her. The fact that she was about to sleep with someone else felt like a betrayal. The worst part was that she hadn’t thought of Chase for even a second during the last couple of hours. Letting go of him hurt more than she could’ve imagined.

  “Don’t.” Rhys spoke, pulling her out of her misery. “Don’t do that. Don’t feel guilty or sad or whatever it is that you’re feeling.” He leaned over her and kissed her lips softly.

  “I’m sorry.” Day’s voice trembled as a few tears slipped down her temples.

  “He can’t have you now,” Rhys demanded. “You were mine the moment he let you go.”

  Day wanted to deny it, to shut down his arrogance. But he was right. Chase had practically tossed her to Rhys when he didn’t fight for her. Chase had even known what Rhys wanted even before Day did, or at least before she admitted it to herself. And yet he still let her go.

  She angrily pushed thoughts of Chase aside and grabbed Rhys’ face, pulling his lips to hers. He devoured her mouth till he had his fill. Then he moved down her jaw and neck, to her luscious, dark-tipped breasts. His tongue flicked against her tight nipples and her fingers dove into his thick mane of dark waves. Day’s hips rolled up towards him, seeking him out. She ached to be filled.

  Rhys pushed up off of her and reached for the drawer of his nightstand. He pulled out a silver packet and ripped it open with his teeth. He quickly rolled the condom over his hard length and came back to rest between Day’s legs.

  “Do you know how long I’ve waited to be right here?” Rhys asked huskily.

  “No. How long?” Day said breathlessly.

  “Since you stumbled into the conservatory that first day in Chicago,” Rhys confessed.

  “Really?” Day said in shock. “I thought you hated me.”

  “I was pissy because I knew I shouldn’t want you. But now you’re here, and I plan on taking full advantage.” Rhys grinned slyly as he slowly slid into her tight recesses.

  “Ahh!” Day cried out, once he fully sheathed himself to the base.

  “God, yes!” Rhys groaned as he held himself completely still, savoring the feel of her around him.

  He pulled back and lunged forward again. Day closed her eyes and pressed up to meet him. Rhys got to his knees and pulled her ass up onto his lap, her back still on the bed. He bent forward and tongued at her nipples as he stroked into her.

  Rhys reached under her shoulders and lifted her up to straddle his lap. He brushed her bangs off her face as she clutched at his shoulders. She used her thighs to raise up and then slide back down over his thick cock.

  “Look at me,” Rhys commanded.

  Day opened her eyes to see his dark cobalt blue eyes gazing at her intently.

  “I want to watch you come,” he panted.

  Day kept her eyes on his as she rolled her hips up and down his shaft. Rhys held onto her hips and thrust upwards to match her. Their skin made a satisfying slapping sound every time their bodies came together. Her fingers slid into the hair at his nape and she held on for dear life.

  They became slick with sweat as Rhys doubled his efforts. Day felt the first quakes of her impending climax.

  “Ahh…Rhys! I’m close,” she cried out.

  “Yes! Come on, love! Let me feel you.” Rhys groaned.

  At his words, Day’s orgasm burst forth. Her inner walls flexed and contracted around him. She screamed his name and Rhys shuddered as his cum jetted into the condom.

  “Fuck!!!” Rhys barked.

  They both collapsed on the bed, completely spent.

  “That was magnificent.” Rhys panted.

  Day snuggled her face into the mattress and smiled. “Agreed.”

  “We need to go get tested. I want to feel you bare.” Rhys suggested. “You already feel like sin with a condom. I can’t imagine without.” He reached over to cup her cheek with his hand.

  “Okay. I’m fine with that.” Day turned her face and kissed his palm.

  “Until then, I might as well use these all up,” Rhys said as he reached into the drawer and pulled out a whole strip of condoms.

  He ripped one off and Day looked down at his already hardening shaft.

  “Again?” She asked in surprise.

  “I told you it’s been a while.” Rhys waggled his eyebrows.

  Next, he proceeded to jump on her playfully. Day’s giggles filled the bedroom, which were quickly replaced by her cries of pleasure.

  ~~~

  The next weekend Day and Rhys attended a very formal birthday party for one of the wealthy college benefactors. She was an heiress and a widow. She was part of London’s high society. Each year she donated hundreds of thousands of pounds to the Royal College of Music. And Day was a nervous wreck because she’d be performing the Vivaldi Sonata No. 5 that she’d been practicing, later in the evening.

  Day had fretted over what to wear and was going to choose something sedate and inconspicuous. Black, preferably. But as Rhys reclined naked in her small bed in her studio, he’d directed her to wear a sexy knee-length red wrap dress that was hanging in her wardrobe.

  “But it’s too short to wear while playing.” Day said apprehensively.

  “That’s the point. How soon we forget our lesson of a week ago.” Rhys commented.

  “But that was in private, not in front of a crowd of high society folk.” Day rationalized.

  “Wear the dress, Daylen. When you feel sexy and confident, you’ll play that way. Be one with the cello,” he teased as she shook her head and went into the bathroom to get ready.

  After she’d showered, she put her hair up in a messy side bun. Her bangs and tendrils, framing her face as usual. Though she was ready to let them grow out, not wanting to hide behind them anymore. She finished up the look with sexy lined eyes that made her large chocolate brown eyes, appear bigger. And deep red lipstick that matched her dress.

  As she’d looked at herself in the mirror, Day felt sexy and confident. But as they made their way inside the lavish, centuries-old mansion, Day started to rethink her ensemble.

  “Stop fretting. You look incredible.” Rhys whispered to her, sensing her self-consciousness reemerge. “You’ll be the envy of every lady in attendance. And watch the men closely. I guarantee that they will practically salivate when they see you.” He assured her.

  Rhys was, in fact, correct. The women gave her cursory looks from under their lashes, wondering who and the hell she was. The men, on the other hand, looked at her with interest and open curiosity. It was an eye-opening experience for Day. She still wasn’t quite ready for that level of attention, which was why, the closer the time got to her solo, the more nervous she got.

  “Ah…finally our gracious hostess,” Rhys called out to the wealthy older woman. “Catherine is the guest of honor and one of our biggest donators,” he whispered to Day as the woman glided over to them.

  Day took a deep breath and smiled. One good word from this woman and Day woul
d be playing with world renowned symphonies for the Queen of freakin’ England if she was lucky.

  “Rhys! It’s been ages! I’m glad you finally decided to grace us with your presence.” She walked up and gave him a double kiss on his cheeks. “And who is this exotic confection you’ve brought with you.” She looked Daylen up and down, curiously.

  “Catherine, this is Daylen Daniels. She’ll be performing a solo piece later in the evening.” Rhys began the introductions. “Daylen, this is Catherine Harrington-Rutherford. Our hostess and reason for this lovely event.”

  “Happy birthday, Mrs. Rutherford.” Day greeted the woman as she wondered if everyone had fancy hyphenated names in England.

  “Oh, please! Do call me Catherine. And it’s lovely to meet you, my dear.” Catherine leaned forward to air kiss Day’s cheeks. “It’s not many that can catch one of our most eligible bachelors. You’ll be the envy of every unattached female here.” Catherine stage whispered to her.

  “Oh, stop!” Rhys fanned away her comment. “Don’t listen to her, Daylen. I am just a lowly conductor, the working class. I doubt anyone is trying to land me.”

  Catherine snorted delicately. “Modesty doesn’t you, my dear.” She raised a saucy eyebrow at Rhys and then turned back to Day. “I look forward to your performance. I have a feeling we may run into each other again if Rhys thinks you’re good enough to perform for us high society snobs.” She grinned and then glided away.

  For all her airs, Daylen actually kind of liked the older woman.

  “She is what I think you Americans would call a ‘trip.’ Catherine is a widow and proclaims that she’ll never marry again. Though, it is no secret that she enjoys warming her bed with men of all ages. If it weren't for her money, many people would gladly snub her.” Rhys informed Day.

  “I think the term would be ‘cougar’ in the States.” Day smiled conspiratorially. “And were you one of the men to warm her bed?” She asked inquisitively.

  Rhys gave her a sidelong look that spoke volumes though he wasn’t going to say it out loud.