I am frozen, listening to him spill a lifetime of dirt in my kitchen, while clutching a peanut butter and jelly sandwich that I made.
“I didn’t want any of it any more. There was no challenge. I grew up, gave in and started working with my father in New York and I have kept myself sufficiently busy ever since.” He pops the last piece of sandwich in his mouth before washing it down with a swig of milk. My mind races in the silent moment. Wanting to know so much more, but so grateful that he has so easily opened up, I let the notion wash over me and decide that it is enough. For now, it is enough.
“Her father, Viktor Vladova, his company is being liquidated. I have been working with him to try and salvage what we can, and that is where Nadja comes in. She showed up in New York that first day that I met you, come to think of it. She showed up begging me to help her father. I told her then that we were over, but I would do what I could for Victor. I had to remind her again, in Miami, and she has been a pain in my side ever since.”
I wrinkle my nose and try to look playful. Not to let him see any of this information bog me down. I can be comfortable with his past, if that is what it is. We are adults. We are bound to have lived before we knew one another, there is no fault there, just a little occasional haunting from a supermodel. He takes a step closer and holds his hands out.
“Can I touch you now?” I cannot even play coy, and I don’t try. I want him to touch me, my skin is silently begging for the warm brand of his hand. I put my legs down and slide to the edge of the counter, eager.
“If you must.” I wiggle my shoulders as he places those hands on my hips. They sear my skin with a white hot lust that oozes from his strong fingertips. He pulls me close to him and I wrap my feet around his hips. In a flash, his hands are in my hair, pushing it back, fisting it and tugging before our mouths tangle in a languid, passion filled kiss. My lips swell from the force of his mouth as he moves to my neck and across my shoulder.
“God, I have missed this,” he murmurs between kisses. Before I can mutter a word, he has my mouth in a tangle again, his tongue pushing against mine in a sinful dance. I moan out loud and it sets him off. He rips the shirt over my head, wrapping his hands around my breasts faster than they can fall. He dips his head and takes one into his mouth, laving the delicate skin around my nipple with the flat of his tongue before he sucks the bud into his mouth and nips me with his teeth. My passion spikes and I grip his head in my hands and tug him away. He looks up at me with feral, lusty eyes and all my defenses are spent. I cannot believe that I lasted this long because I am about to pounce on this man.
“Take me to bed,” I demand in a throaty whisper that I have never heard before.
Chapter 4
“My pleasure.” So easily he picks me up and walks down the hall to my bedroom, my legs locked around his trim waist. I pull the shirt from his head and he drops me to the bed as I toss it over his shoulder. In one quick movement, he whips my little shorts off and drops his pants. Well, we made quick work of that. He drops his fists to the bed and crawls over me as I back away from him moving up the bed. His nimble body twists and turns like a kinetic sculpture, fluid lines and elegant movement.
I run my fingers along his jaw. The skin is smooth and tight and I must have frowned because he immediately offers an explanation.
“I thought clean face…clean Slate?” He waits and I smile up at him. “You don’t like it?” he questions. And I realize that I do like it, and the idea of a clean slate. I will take him any way I can get him. Clean slate, shrouded in shadow. Either way, this is right where I want to be.
“I like the sound of that.”
“Stay still and let me look at you. Fuck, you are so sexy,” he declares with utter conviction. I tip my head to the ceiling, letting my eyes drift shut listening to his reverie. I miss this place, the space we inhabit together. It’s like a different plane, a different world. His hands circle the delicate skin at my inner thighs, making me hot and eager. “Open your eyes. I want you to see what you have done. What you do to me.” Peeking up at him, I behold the most glorious sight. His strong, long fingers fisted around his long, thick shaft. His hand gliding slowly up and down, his silky skin pulling so tight it looks ready to rip. He hisses through his teeth, “Look what you’ve done, Beautiful.” I’m mesmerized by his hand, by his glistening cock. “I need you so bad, I’m rock hard, so hard it almost hurts.” A hiss escapes his mouth before he pulls his lips into his mouth and groans. There is a shining god between my legs, all defenses spent, I surrender.
“You make me crazy so easily, Sophie. Watch,” he implores, taking my hand into his. Now we both feel the stroke of his velvety skin wrapped around steel, and it is enough to make me shudder in delight. “Watch me come apart for you,” he whispers, pressing his thumb to the tiny bundle of nerves at the top of my sex. It sends a charge straight through me. My toes curl and an effusion of angelic white noise fills my head as he sinks slowly into my begging, pulsing body. Teeth gritted, grasping for the control he so desperately clings to, he slides out then pushes his way back in. Each time, he pushes deeper, slower. “Ah, Sophie.” He pulls my knee, hitching it up over his hip to get the angle he needs to bury himself in my depths, pressing slowly, allowing me to stretch around him.
One last gentle thrust and the fullness threatens my sanity. He feels so good. Every cell hums and twists around him. I struggle to keep my eyes on him as he stills, buried deep inside me. His emerald eyes ablaze, hooded lids and all. We are one, connected, throbbing for one another, trapped in each other’s stare. The ghost of a crooked grin crosses his lips and his eyes fall shut as his head rolls back.
“This is where I belong.” A litany, professed to the heavens. “Please, Sophie, I need this. I need you.”
“You have me,” the strangled words escape my dry throat while my body pulses around him, begging for movement. His long, lean body looms high above me, still. When his eyes open they are fierce and hungry, like a jungle cat. He drops over me, fists buried in the mattress on either side of me, and demands I hold on to something. My leaden arms reach behind and feel around for the iron scroll of the headboard. Pressing his forehead to mine, every atom in the room directs its energy to that one point. Our cells mingle and dance a ferocious tango.
“I didn’t know I could miss someone so much. Hmmm…you’re killing me, Sophie. And I love it.”
My heart skips to the casual use of such an off limits word for him. He is buried between my legs, his hard, planed chest pressed against mine. Yet, the most intense electricity radiates from the single point where his head rests against mine. Connected in every way, tied to each other by a force we cannot see. He starts to move, rocking slowly into me, swaying his hips from side to side. One final deliciously slow slide and he pulls back. The glimmer in his eye tells me to hold on tight and he slams into me, crushing himself against me. His balls slap against me as he plunges deeper. His pelvis rubs at my clit with every powerful thrust. Every inch of my body is on fire. From my toes to the top of my head, I cannot make out a single sensation, but Rhys. He is everything, everywhere. I tighten my grip on the iron as the thrusts become more needy and frantic.
“Come with me, Sophie!” he roars and we crumble together. My loins milk him, pulling him deeper, missing the familiar heat as he loses himself deep inside. I feel each white hot stream filling me beyond capacity as he groans, burying his face in my neck. We float back down to earth together, still connected, still writhing against each other. His full weight rests on me, pressing me into the mattress and I am on cloud nine. I have missed the weight of a man, the weight of this man. We lie sated, still as one for a long moment before he pulls out and I wince at the loss of his heat. He pulls me to his chest and I focus on his heartbeat.
“I’m sorry…” A whisper, buried deep in my hair.
“Sorry for what?” Unable to keep the purr from my voice, I nuzzle into his neck and take a deep hit of my drug of choice.
“I thought this would be easy.
Something light, just a bit of fun, that we could both emerge unscathed. With maybe a few memories, but not much more, I was so wrong. I see now that is not an option for us.” He has me wrapped in his arms, my head tucked under his chin. I cannot see his face, cannot fathom where this is heading. Panic trickles into my chest, a fist clutching at my still racing heart, strangling my heated pulse. Could he cut me off just seconds after pulling out? My eyes dart about the room, seeking a point to focus on. Something to look at, anywhere, but to his strong arms wrapped comfortably around me. I am suddenly glad that I cannot see his face because he, too, cannot see mine, cannot see the emotion that threatens to tear me down. My mind is racing, grasping and scraping for an excuse, an out. Paranoia racks my body as I scramble for an upper hand before he can crush me with a dismissal. The faintest wiggle of a tear threatens to expose me. I am raw, open and flayed by what we have just done. And now I am to be broken.
“I have to have you, Sophie, all the time.” He pulls me closer, cradling me against his chest. Relief fills my lungs and I take a deep breath of his musk, elated that my paranoia is so easily discounted and shocked by my ability to get so negative. “I’m hooked. I don’t think I can leave you again. It’s too hard to bear. I want you with me.” He nuzzles my neck before pushing me back so we can look each other in the eye, and he has caught me completely off guard. “Come back to New York with me.”
Oh, the offer is too good. Run away with this sexual demigod, lock ourselves away in some glamorous, art Deco high rise, lose myself in the city. Before I can talk myself out of it, I know I want to go.
“I could take a few days off. I have never been to New York.” I mull over the articles I have promised Mary, and I’m sure I can manage them from New York. And, thanks to Rhys, I no longer have to worry about my second job. My heart begins to swell at the thought of being in New York, at the thought of being with him in New York.
“Not a few days,” he shakes his head, staring at the ceiling, “more like….I don’t know. Just come. Come to New York. I want to see you every day. I want to hold you every night. I need to touch you and smell you and taste you.” Oh my, his words wash over me, and I almost lose my head. I want to give him all those things. “Indefinitely,” he declares, his eyes trapping me in a death grip. And there it is. The catch.
“What? Rhys, you know I cannot do that. I have a life, here.”
“I want you in my life.”
“I will be in your life, if you put me there.” He hesitates for a moment.
“My everyday life.”
“Rhys, I have my own life here. I have a job and my grandmother. I cannot just leave.”
“But, I can take care of you, you wouldn’t have to worry about anything.”
“Rhys! I don’t want that. I don’t want you to take care of me. My life is mine, it is real and it is dull and it is mine. If you really want me in your life, then make room for me and everything about me, but I will not rely on you. I won’t become some accessory, hanging on for dear life, waiting for you to come home, begging for your attention. You wouldn’t want me then, and I don’t want that.”
“I want to give you the world, Sophie.”
“I already have my own world, Rhys, but I want you to be a part of it. We can be a part of each others’ worlds. Please, I do not want to fight.”
“Alright, I am a smart man, I know when I have been beaten, temporarily.” Narrowing his eyes at me, he grins. “But I want to be closer to you, and commandeering a jet every time I need to see you is not fiscally responsible.”
“Am I not a good investment?” Teasing, I run my fingers over his chest and feel a tremor run through him.
“More of a gamble,” he laughs and the throaty sound is beautiful. “But, good Lord, Beautiful, you have already paid out in spades. I don’t usually gamble, but I do know that you don’t step away from the table when you are winning. I will figure something out.”
“Don’t you have to work?” I am concerned, knowing how important his father’s company and his own foundations are to him.
“I do.” He kisses my forehead. “I always do. But, I am always working.” He taps his temple with a slight grin on his lips. “Work smarter,” he quips. His hands run up and down my back, lulling me into a trance. “All joking aside, there is a big development deal that Matthew and I have been working on, I will take the week to wrap it up. We will revisit on Friday.” He cups my backside and kneads my fleshy tail, distracting me from what he just said. “How’s that?”
“Hmm?” My eyes are heavy, my limbs tired and limp.
“Were you even listening to me, Ms. Noelle?”
“Yes, I’m sorry. Revisit on Friday. That sounds perfect.” An unwelcome yawn erupts from my chest and I can’t fight sleep. Rhys reaches around behind him, tugging the chain on my bedside lamp. “Will you stay the weekend with me?” I ask in the dark.
“I thought you would never ask, Beautiful. Sleep now, Sophie.” He kisses the top of my head as I nuzzle into the hollow of his throat, taking a deep breath of his smell. This place is sure to give me wonderful dreams, and for the first time in weeks, I fall asleep without the ache.
I am startled awake by the ringing of my phone. “Hello!” A little too gruff, a little too tired. The sun is already high in the sky and I am sure I have slept away half of the morning. I roll over to find Rhys gone.
“Sophie! Are you coming in today or what?”
“Oh, Mary, I am sorry, I forgot!”
“Well, I am here. I have already done the layout, so I will have to show you that another time.” It takes me a moment to collect my thoughts and wake up. Shit, I was supposed to go into the paper today. Where is Rhys?
“Listen, Mary. I am not going to make it in today. Um…Rhys is here.”
“Mr. Money bags showed up, huh? Were you expecting him? I thought you two weren’t talking.”
“We weren’t. But, you know. We ran into each other last night, and..”
“Oh, I see how it is. He breezes into town with his deep pockets and rockin’ bod and you forget all about me.”
“Mary, No!”
“Lighten up, Soph, I am teasing you.” I breathe a sigh of relief. I would hate it if Mary was mad at me. “Well, you and your wallet have a lovely weekend. I will see you on Monday, and I expect a full report!”
“Nothing in print!” I tease, hanging up. I roll over and smell Rhys in my sheets. Taking a deep breath, I pull him deep, wrapping myself in his scent. Yesterday I woke in an empty bed with a heavy heart. Today I wake in a state of bliss. How long can it last? Mary’s teasing rings in my ears. Mr. Money bags, you and your wallet. She doesn’t think I am that shallow? Does he think that?
I reluctantly slide out of bed and pull on a pair of shorts, as Rhys comes breezing in the door, sweaty and out of breath.
“Good morning, Beautiful. Sleep well?” His T-shirt, the shirt I stole, clings to his chest, wet from his sweat, and his shorts hang low on his powerful hips. Will I ever get used to how hot he is? He tugs his shirt over his head, revealing the chiseled planes of his chest, glistening with sweat. His abs pull and give as he tosses the shirt on my bed. “I went for a quick run. I didn’t want to wake you.” His mouth breaks into a wide, libidinous grin and he saunters towards me, prowling like a lion. Well, it can’t be all about money. That body and what he does with it affects me so deeply. Wrapping his strong arms around me, he brushes my hair over my shoulder and kisses my neck, making my knees weak. I wrap my arms around his torso, wiping the sweat from his back, and revel in his embrace. Everything he said last night comes rushing back, and I am so happy to be right here, right now. I press my cheek to his sticky chest and breathe him in.
He tips my head with his finger and swallows me with a slow, deep kiss, savoring every second as I melt to the ground. When he finally breaks from my lips, I am bereft, wanting him to kiss me like that every minute.
“What is on your mind, Sophie?”
“Nothing. I just got off the phone
with Mary, my boss. I was supposed to go in today.”
“Uh oh. Are you in trouble? I wouldn’t want you to lose your job….Again.” He squeezes me tightly, and nips at my neck before letting me go.
“No. Everything is fine.”
“Then what is bothering you?” How does he do that? How does he know when something is on my mind?
“Oh, nothing.”
He drops his shorts and stands before me in nothing but his boxer briefs. They hug every part of him in a way that makes me envious. “Nothing rarely means nothing.” He sits and pulls his socks off before walking into the bathroom.
“It is just something that Mary said.” I watch him move around my bathroom, like he is familiar with the space. He splashes water on his face and reaches for a hand towel.
“What did she say?”
“She was just teasing me about your money.” I shake my head, trying to shake off the doubt. “She called you my ‘wallet’.”
“Does that bother you?” He wipes the sweat from his body with the hand towel and drops it to the bathroom floor. He walks back into my room and sits at the end of the bed, waiting.
“I just don’t want people to think that is what is going on.”
“You don’t care about money.” The humor in his voice should be reassuring, but it stings, he couldn’t even fathom that I may be so shallow. I am not so sure. It turns out that I do covet the things he can give me, the things that he has. “You only want me for my hot body,” he teases me and pulls me into his lap. Oh, the feeling of being in his arms. That feeling definitely has nothing to do with money. Money cannot buy the way he makes me feel. The way he reads my body, that is instinct. You cannot buy the kind of connection we have built. Can you? How could I have been so righteous? Resting my hands on his strong biceps, I relish the feel of his soft, sun kissed skin under my fingers. I don’t want to give it up. But surely he won’t want me when I confess. Looking into his eyes, I want to believe that it isn’t about his money, but the lie in my head bites my tongue. The silence seems to stun him. He balks for a moment, and wrinkles his brow. “Sophie?”
Speak (The Voice trilogy Book 2) Page 4