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One Song: book two in the one series

Page 8

by Best, Victoria J.


  If I fainted, and Rhys had to call an ambulance, he would definitely find out about the pregnancy, and the whole city would know I was with him at his hotel. The internal dialog worked some, but my panic attacks weren’t based in fact and reason, and I couldn’t slow my breathing enough to take in a full breath. I doubled over, my hands on my knees, and gulped air to try to fill my lungs and slow my heart rate.

  “Natalie, are you okay?” Rhys asked with alarm, grabbing on to my upper arm to steady me as I wobbled on my feet.

  I tried to nod, but knew nothing was happening. Words wouldn’t form in my throat when I tried to assure him I was all right. The situation was spiraling out of control and I couldn’t do anything to stop it. The worse the panic attack became, the more my mind raced with the possibilities of being found out, which only fed the panic in my chest. It was a vicious cycle.

  “Lean on me, we’re going up to my room.” Rhys put his arm around my shoulder, pulling me to a standing position, and I leaned on him as he guided me through the hotel and to his room on the sixth floor. I didn’t look up, focused too much on walking and taking in air, until we were standing inside his room.

  “Sit down,” he ordered me as he tried to pry my hands from my coat and remove it.

  I managed to shake my head against his efforts, pulling the coat tighter around myself as I sank into a plush chair next to the dresser.

  “I’m okay,” I managed to croak out as I rested my head back against the chair and closed my eyes for a second.

  “You scared the shit out of me,” Rhys said as he sat in the chair across from me. “I thought you were going to pass out.”

  I wanted to explain it away, to tell him I was ill or something else, but I was tired of the lies.

  “I was having a panic attack. I’m sorry. Thank you for getting me upstairs and not calling an ambulance.”

  He ran a hand through his already disheveled hair and put his face in his hands. “Do they happen often?”

  I shook my head. “Not anymore, but I never know what will trigger them.” I didn’t want to tell him it was the fear of being seen with him.

  “Wow. I’m glad you weren’t alone when it happened.”

  I nodded, but didn’t add anything because my triggers were more predictable than I let on, though I wasn’t completely lying. Sometimes the same situations didn’t trigger an attack, so I didn’t know when I would have one or not.

  “May I have some water? Then I’ll go.” The evening was ruined. We couldn’t possibly talk now. I had nothing to say anyway.

  “What? No, don’t go yet. We haven’t even had a chance to talk.” Rhys ran a hand through his hair again, the thick strands sticking up in such a way that gave him an endearing little boy look.

  A thought struck me, that the baby may be a boy, with Rhys’s blue eyes and sandy hair, and a twinge of sadness gripped my chest in a different way than the panic attack had.

  I have to get out of this room.

  “I really should go home and rest.” I was pulling the panic attack card. It was low, but I couldn’t be here any longer.

  Rhys stood without answering me, walked across the room to the mini fridge, and pulled out a bottle of water. He uncapped it, poured it into a glass and walked back to where I stood, stopping directly in front of me. I looked up at him as he held the glass out for me to take from his hand. The look on his face was intense, penetrating, and I stifled a gasp because it replaced the sadness and anxiety in my chest with something else altogether—lust.

  “Rhys,” I began as he stood there, holding out the water and not saying a word. But he didn’t have to say anything; I could read everything in the heat of his gaze.

  “Just stay for a little longer,” he finally said.

  I took the water and gulped it back, then set the glass down on the dresser with a slight bang before I wiped the back of my hand over my mouth. He stood stock-still in front of me and I couldn’t look at him but I couldn’t avert my eyes either. His presence, his glare, took up all the air in the room, and I felt myself panting again for totally different reasons. Rhys made me feel small but never in the way I felt when the media talked about my failed relationships or the tabloids reported on my failings. He made me feel small with the intensity of his feelings. He made me feel as if I were the only thing in the room, in the world, and even though a part of me hated this feeling because it made me feel weak, another part loved it.

  “Okay,” I whispered the word, followed by a slight nod.

  It was only with my agreement that he backed off, moving to the chair he occupied before and sat back down.

  “What have you been up to for the last, uh, few months?” Rhys asked me, crossing and uncrossing one leg over the other. He suddenly seemed nervous and small talk wasn’t something I felt like doing right now.

  “Not much. Working. I work too much,” I said with a laugh, as if it were a joke when in fact it was the truth.

  His answer was a slow bob of his head. We sat there again, staring at one another as I tried to think of something else to say. The only thing I could think about though was how I was going to leave and not have any contact with Rhys ever again. I knew this would be almost impossible with his band being represented by my company, but I had to try. If he knew about the baby… No, it wasn’t an option.

  “I didn’t ask you here for small talk,” he finally said, rising from the chair again and ambling back to stand in front of me.

  “I know.” I didn’t want to ask why he wanted to talk to me, though I had an idea. It was not going to happen. Not again. Not when I had too much to lose.

  Rhys kneeled down in front of me, eye level to where I sat in the chair. His abdomen was almost touching my knees and I stiffened. He was too close again. Whenever he was this close, I couldn’t count on common sense to keep me from being pulled in.

  “I had to see for myself if this feeling was mutual, or if I was making it up in my head.” He leaned in, over my lap, his face all but touching mine. “I had to see if what I felt the last time I kissed you was real.”

  I opened my mouth to answer but he cut me off by slanting his mouth over mine. Startled, I started to pull back, but the chair stopped me from moving too far. He pushed his torso between my knees, pulling me against him as he deepened the kiss. I should have pulled away, I wanted to want to pull away, but I didn’t. And I didn’t want to. I let him kiss me, ravage my mouth with his tongue, all while kissing him back. It was intense, ethereal, like an out-of-body experience.

  No, Rhys hadn’t imagined the connection we had on that street outside of the restaurant, the way we felt in that alleyway four months ago. The connection, this feeling of electricity, and magnetism was not something we both made up in our minds. It was there and it was terrifying.

  I was a goner, lost in his touch, his taste, his energy. My hands found their way to his face and then his hair, mussing it more with my hands. I silenced the voice in the back of my head that was like a trilling alarm, the one that told me to stop. I didn’t want to hear the admonishments of my righteous self as she told me this would all fall apart, and my life along with it. I was tired, exhausted of always doing the right thing because I had an image to maintain. Rhys was the only person in my life who made me feel whole, alive, and for now, for this short time in this hotel room, I wanted to feel alive.

  “I want you,” I muttered when I came up for air, surprised by my own admission.

  Rhys looked at me with surprise too, but quickly jumped back to allow me room to get up. He began to undress, shedding his leather jacket and t-shirt before I had even stood from the chair. As he was working down his pants, I realized I couldn’t get completely naked with the lights on or he would see my stomach. At this time of night, my almost nonexistent bump was quite noticeable.

  While he shucked his boxer briefs, I flipped the switch on the wall so we were shrouded in darkness. The only light left in the room came from a break in the curtains from the city lights outside the hotel.


  “What did you do that for?” Rhys asked as he found me in the dark.

  I was still fully clothed as he approached me, his hands going for my coat to peel it from my shoulders. This time, I let him, shrugging it off so it dropped to the floor.

  “I want it to be dark.” I offered no other explanation.

  “Okay. I just want you. I don’t care about the lights.” His words wrapped around me like an embrace. I leaned into him as he found the hem of my dress and pulled it over my head.

  We were finally almost on an equal playing field as I stood before him, shadows camouflaging my changing body, in my underwear and bra. I unhooked my bra, letting it fall where my coat did, before slipping my thong off to puddle on the floor.

  “I wish I could see you,” Rhys growled as he reached for me.

  He pulled me flush against him, skin to skin, our bodies molding together as if they were made for one another. My heart hammered and my head swam.

  “You can feel me,” I whispered, afraid to break whatever spell this was that we were under by talking too loudly.

  I felt punch drunk at his touch as he caressed me down the dip in my back before cupping my ass. His hands explored everywhere, moving around to the front by my hips. I was crazy with lust until the moment his hands found my abdomen, sweeping across my lower belly. I stiffened and Rhys’s hands stopped their roaming.

  “What’s wrong?” He said the words close to my ear, his breath sending a shiver over my sensitive, overheated skin.

  “Nothing, nothing is wrong.” I didn’t want to ruin the mood and I didn’t want to explain why my stomach was off-limits. This time, I took the reins to distract him, and pulled his mouth down to meet mine, slamming my lips into his.

  The redirection worked, reigniting our passion. We tumbled to the bed in a tangle of limbs, never breaking the kiss. I lay flat on my back as he kissed a trail down my neck, over my collarbone and between my breasts, before finding a pert nipple and taking it into his mouth. My body bucked off the bed and I grabbed his hair to hold him to me, the sensations so overwhelming I feared I would come without a touch between my legs. He released my nipple with a loud suck, moving to the other side to perform the same licking and sucking rhythm. I was writhing on the bed, overheated and overstimulated, my core clenching with need.

  Rhys’s misstep was forgotten as he turned us over together and pulled me on top of him, my legs spread wide over his hips. I could feel him now, the length of him pressing into the V of my thighs. Reaching between us, I fisted his erection and he moaned. There was no more time for foreplay. I needed him inside of me, and I couldn’t wait another minute. Maybe it was the pregnancy hormones, or maybe it was just Rhys, but I had never been this turned on before, to the point of feeling like I would combust if I didn’t find a release soon.

  “Now,” I ordered, lifting up to give him space to slip inside.

  I lowered myself down on him slowly, an inch at a time, and we both groaned together when he was finally snuggly inside of me. Neither of us moved for a minute as I grew accustomed to being filled and he waited for me to make the first move. Leaning forward to brace on my arms, I lifted my hips until just the tip remained before slowly sheathing him again to the hilt. I did it slowly, rhythmically, and even in the dark, I could see Rhys gritting his teeth as he tried to rein in his desire to take over. But he didn’t stop me, didn’t move his hips, and only gripped me around the waist as I moved him in and out until we were both going mad with the need to come.

  His grip tightened on my hips, and I knew he had reached his limit of patience and was going to take over. I let him, relinquishing my movement to him as he lifted me up, pistoning his hips to speed up the slow torture I had created. But it still must not have been enough for him because he lifted me completely off, depositing me on the bed.

  “Turn around,” he growled.

  I obeyed, lying on my stomach with my ass in the air. Rhys wasted no time, gripping my hips to pull me back to meet him. With one thrust, he entered me again, swiftly and fully, before he pulled almost completely back out again to repeat. My head swam with the feel of him as I dangled on the precipice of ecstasy. Never in my life had I felt the way I did when I was with Rhys; in his arms, under him, or when he was inside of me. Everything felt combustible—the air, my body, and most of all, the lust that was building and growing between us.

  He thrust in and out, over and over, gripping my hips tightly and folding his body over mine. The only sounds in the room were that of our rapid panting and our bodies as they came together. I couldn’t breathe from the sensations that were overtaking me, little by little, growing with every thrust. Then I came, forcefully, my entire body convulsing under him and around him as stars burst behind my closed eyelids. But still Rhys pounded into me, his body enveloping mine as I collapsed all the way down to the bed until he soon found his release, moaning as he came.

  We lay in a heap on the bed, his large frame covering mine while he braced on one elbow. I couldn’t move, my body sated and my brain finally calm. This felt right, real, and my heart began to gallop for an entirely different reason now. But I remained in Rhys’s embrace, afraid if I moved or even spoke, the moment of serenity would be broken and I would have to go back to real life, where I couldn’t have him and I was living a lie.

  10

  Rhys

  I stroked Natalie’s arm with one hand as she lay practically beneath me. She shivered and I pulled her closer, tucking her under the heat of my own body. There was no rush for me to get up from the bed and I was glad she seemed to feel the same way for the time being. I gently trailed my fingers down to her side, rubbing her hip and thigh, and though I was spent because I was still inside of her, my dick stirred again. If I was being honest, I would admit being with Natalie was unlike any other sexual experience of my life. But it was too soon for all the emotions that were clogging my chest, and I was leaving town in a few days, so I didn’t admit it, even to myself.

  My hands couldn’t stop roaming her body, and I looped my arm around her middle, rubbing down her lower abdomen. Natalie stiffened, pulling away from me slightly, and my hand froze in its exploration.

  “What’s wrong?” I ventured the question carefully because I knew Natalie was a flight risk.

  She turned onto her back, disengaging from me. I didn’t move my hand, which was still resting on her stomach and for the first time, I noticed the slight protrusion there. It wouldn’t have even been noticeable except for the fact that Natalie was a thin woman, tall and lanky in the way most women who were supermodels were, though she had more flare to her hips and larger breasts than those women.

  “Nothing, it’s nothing. I just…” She trailed off, looking away from me and bit her lip.

  “Are you ill?” Maybe she had a tumor. Fear gripped my chest that she would be taken from me before I even had a chance to know her. It was irrational but at the same time, I couldn’t calm the anxiety once the thought took hold.

  She pivoted away from me suddenly, wrapping her arms around herself protectively, as she lay on her side facing me. I started to reach for her again but stopped halfway there because her defensive posture told me she needed space.

  “No, it’s nothing like that but, well, I don’t really know how to tell you this, especially not after that.”

  Natalie bit her lip again and closed her eyes for a second. I fought the urge to yell at her to spit out what she had to say.

  “Rhys, I’m pregnant with my ex-husband’s baby.”

  “What?!” The word was out of my mouth before I even processed what she said.

  “I’m sorry. It wasn’t planned. None of this was planned but…” She paused again and swallowed, a sheen of tears in her eyes. “I’m having the baby, and I owe it to this child to see if I can reconcile with him.”

  Was she fucking serious? We just had the most amazing sex ever and here she was, telling me she was having a baby with another man and going to get back together with him.
r />   “Why are you here then?” I spat the words out as I jumped up from the bed.

  Natalie gasped, doing the same. She stood still, looking like she was unable to move, her arms still wrapped around her waist.

  “I, Rhys, I… I’m gonna leave.” She began to hurry around the room, gathering her clothes and her coat, pulling them on quickly as she went.

  Hurt radiated from her like an aura but I couldn’t stop the rage that was building in my chest where, seconds before, another emotion had been brewing. I was stupid to think she was here for any other reason than sex. Just as before, in the alleyway, outside of the restaurant, she made it perfectly clear we were from two different places.

  “Yeah, you should go,” I mumbled, irritated at the pain of rejection I heard in my own voice.

  “I’m sorry, Rhys. I never meant for any of this to happen,” she said softly, but it didn’t sound like she was talking about tonight, and I wondered what else she was sorry for.

  “Whatever. It doesn’t matter. I’m leaving in a few days anyway.” My voice took on a cold edge, icing out the anger and frustration I was unable to shake by her revelation.

  Natalie nodded, her eyes downcast, as she slung her purse over her shoulder and ambled towards the door. With her hand on the knob, she turned to me.

  “Rhys, I…” she started, but I held up my hand. I didn’t want to hear any more of her excuses.

  “Don’t,” was all I could manage to say to her.

  With another bob of her head, Natalie exited my room. I tried to ignore the ridiculous sense of loss I felt with her absence, but knew I was fooling myself when I tried to pretend what was between us was only lust.

  11

  Natalie

  Desolation.

  That was the dramatic word I was using to describe the few weeks after revealing to Rhys we could never be together again. I would be lying if I said I felt anything but desolation, so I allowed myself to feel it, to revel in it because I deserved it. This was the hell of my own personal making. I was punishing myself for forgetting who I was and having a moment of insanity in an alleyway with a man I just met. Even if that man turned out to be the best sex of my life. Even if he turned out to be the only man I was capable of feeling anything for.

 

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