“I’m not some delicate thing, Rhys.” I hated that my voice choked a little. “Please, just come inside me. I don’t want to wait anymore.”
I raised my hips, taking just the tip. He groaned and when I felt the muscles in his back relax, I knew he had caved.
Giving me a little more of his weight, he lowered to his forearms and slowly pushed another inch deeper.
“You okay?” he said on his own strangled breath, as if trying to hold back. As if trying to go slowly for my sake.
Who was this man? This intense, thoughtful man with the spellbinding eyes and an engrossing presence?
“Yes.” I held his face and kissed him. “More.”
He gave it to me. Pushing again, his body fitting with mine, not stopping until he was seated to the hilt. I inhaled sharply. Not from pain, but from how amazing the fullness felt.
“Fuck, Emma,” he groaned.
His shoulders gently shook, as if he was fighting himself to hold back. I knew he was. And I was tired of him thinking I couldn’t handle him. Couldn’t handle anything.
“I can take it, Rhys,” I whispered, sinking my nails into his back. He hissed and withdrew, then returned with another slow thrust.
“More,” I said again. And he did, still slow. Still holding back. So I scratched down his back. “Harder.”
Nothing about this was f**king. This was different. Some kind of connection between two people. And I had no idea how to handle it or what to call it.
Threading his forearms beneath my shoulders, he thrust harder. Gripping the carpet for leverage to hit deeper. His biceps bulged around me and his taut stomach muscles rubbed against my middle. My mind was racing, my pulse beating against my temples and thick pleasure was coating every cell and sprinting through my bloodstream.
Feeling all his strength, being consumed by it, was overwhelming.
I locked my legs behind his back and held on. Clutched to him — to this moment — with everything I was. Because reality was right outside, and for now, I wanted to escape it. Escape it with Rhys.
Over and over he surged into me, hitting that sensitive spot inside again and again. Drawing out more moans, more pleas, more lust. Buzzing my skin and heating my bones down to the marrow. I started smoldering from the inside out.
“Rhys . . .”
“I know, baby. I’m there too.”
He kissed me hard and on a final pump of his hips, I spiraled over the edge. He instantly stilled, as if basking in the feel of me coming apart around him. Remaining deep, he stirred. My inner walls milked him and sucked him deeper. With a low growl, he came right there with me.
I’d never felt more whole. Like somehow, Rhys had found pieces of me I didn’t even know were missing and gave them back. Something snuck up on me that I wasn’t ready for. The water behind my eyes I had been fighting all night, maybe all year, crept up and a single tear ran down my cheek. I batted it away quickly before Rhys could see.
He lifted back up to straightened arms, about to pull away —
“Wait.” I grabbed his shoulders, stilling him. “Will you just stay here, just for a moment?”
He wanted to say something, I could tell. But he just looked at me and nodded. Resting back down, he remained within me, and I stayed wrapped around him.
“Just for a moment,” I whispered again. Because right there, I felt safe. Felt the connection between us.
Exhaustion hit. So fast and intense it was like a slug to the face. I felt the last several weeks weigh down on me. And the fact that I hadn’t slept well in days came crashing into my body. My eyes instantly went heavy. The last thing I heard was Rhys whispering my name.
“Please . . . stay . . .” was all I could manage to say.
Chapter Three
Consciousness slowly drifted into my sleepy brain and there was one thing I was certain of: I was enveloped by a cloud and I never wanted to leave.
Peeling my eyes open, I adjusted to find a soft light coming from the slightly cracked door.
I was in a bed. Rhys’s bed. Surrounded by white sheets and fluffy pillows. Glancing at the clock I —
“Holy shit!” Scrambling up, I grabbed my folded jeans from the nearby chair and yanked them on. Seriously? The guy folded my clothes.
Speaking of “the guy,” Rhys came into the bedroom just as I buttoned my jeans and pulled on my shirt.
“You all right?”
“It’s three o’clock,” I said, pointing at the clock. “In the afternoon.”
“Yes.”
“I slept for a long time.”
“You looked like you needed it,” he said softly.
“Yeah, well, I have things I have to do today. Thanks for letting me crash here last night.” I grabbed my satchel and swung it over my shoulder.
“Emma.” He crossed his arms over his chest, standing directly in the doorway, physically showing exactly what I’d have to go through to leave. “I think we should talk.”
“I can’t right now.”
“Fine. Tonight. Have dinner with me.”
“I’m leaving town,” I explained. He didn’t seem pleased.
“Where?”
I shrugged and pulled my shoes on. “Don’t know yet.”
“Why?”
“I just need to get away.”
He raised his chin slightly. “Just a trip, then?”
I stood and smiled. “Yep, just a trip.”
He nodded. “So your brother must know your plans.”
My face fell, but Rhys kept calm as ever. Calling my bluff, waiting for me to confirm or deny. Either way, I was screwed because we both knew what he was insinuating.
“I like my privacy and I’m an adult. Not everything I do is run past Adam.”
“So he doesn’t know about these mysterious plans of you leaving town — certainly not running from anything, of course.”
“Yep. Certainly not. And there’s no reason Adam needs to be brought into this.”
I stepped toward Rhys until I was eye level with his chest. The same chest I’d seen, scratched, last night. I shook my head, hoping to dislodge the memories of my momentary lapse into neediness. My amazing night had somehow turned into tomorrow, and now Rhys Striker was nothing more than an obstacle.
“I’m leaving town too, Emma.” His voice didn’t hold a threat, one thing I was learning quickly about Rhys. He merely spoke the truth and let it land where it would. “I’m checking out tomorrow and going back home upstate. I won’t be here if you come running again.”