8. Sadie
Breathe,just breathe.
I smooth shaky hands down the soft cotton of my most beloved sundress, eyeing my reflection with a critical gaze. The soft yellow floral print, both my favorite color and pattern, hugs my curves in the right places and hangs loose in others. It’s simple but beautiful, and best of all, it makes me feel attractive.
Only, I’m not sure if that’s enough.
Simple in design, even when dressed up by a pair of strappy wedges, it’s a far cry from the elegant dresses I’ve noticed other hotel guests wearing. Most of them sport high-dollar labels my family, despite being financially comfortable, would never buy.
My stomach clenches as doubt creeps in.
Is it too informal for a day out with Rhys?
Too... American small town?
He exudes sophistication, from the tips of his fancy-looking shoes to the tailoring of what I suspect was a custom suit. Every inch of him oozes refined elegance and high-class pedigree. Worlds away from a middle-class Georgia peach like me and my inexpensive outfits.
I glance at Mamaw’s slim gold watch that hugs my wrist—an eighteenth-birthday gift slash early inheritance from Papaw, making it one of my most prized possessions.
Only ten minutes until our agreed meeting time.
Deep breaths, Sadie Lou.
No matter how out of my element I might feel, today is a fresh start. I refuse to let my messy past and the wounds left on my heart ruin what could be.
I don’t quite understand why I feel such a draw to Rhys, much less my glaring lack of anger over him invading my privacy by running an FBI-worthy background check. Yet, here I am, still more than ready to explore whatever this electric connection between us is.
You only live once, right?
My pulse kicks up, mimicking a pounding drum, by simply remembering the way he checked me out during our FaceTime call last night. The rough rasp of his smooth accent as he murmured those wicked, wildly inappropriate promises, followed by the way seeing my bare flesh seemed to nearly rob him of his carefully leashed control.
Every moment was delicious.
Thrilling. Earth-shattering.
And it was all new territory for me, especially considering I’ve never been so bold and reckless with a man before. Never acted with such brazen disregard for propriety or wanted someone so badly, craving their touch as a marathon runner’s starved lungs do air.
Clearly, I’ve gone plum dang crazy.
With a carefree shrug, I scoop my hair off my neck, letting the blown-out locks tumble down my back in what I hope is an artful tousle. Snatching up my wristlet clutch, I head for the elevators, my sandals sinking into the plush hotel carpet.
Ten seconds later, it arrives.
I’m already a bundle of nerves, my pulse ratcheting even higher when the silver doors open revealing a familiar, powerfully built figure. And just like that, with only one glance, all the breath whooshes from my lungs in a stuttered exhale.
Rhys.
As if sent by Satan himself to seduce me to the depths of Hell, he stands just inside the metal box, looking like sin incarnate. His dark hair is tousled as if he’s been running his fingers through it, the expensive suit he wore last night MIA.
In its place, he wears a tight black Henley, his sleeves pushed to just below his elbows, and faded dark jeans that cling to his muscular thighs. His feet are clad in expensive-looking leather boots, the rebellious counterpoint to the rest of his devil-may-care look.
Sweet mercy.
If Tasha were here, she’d faint.
Rhys, though, with tension lining his frame, looks seconds from giving himself a coronary. His body practically vibrates with coiled tension, and even his chiseled, clean-shaven jaw is ticking.
Is it because of wanting to see me?
If so, no one’s ever been this way over me. This eager for my presence or this affected by the mere sight of me. It makes my belly swoop and flutter as fire licks down my spine.
Our stares meet and hold, the air thickening with unspoken desire.
The mossy green that swirls in his bourbon-stained irises darkens to a smoky emerald, as he eyes me with bold appreciation, taking in every showcased dip and swell of my frame.
It’s now I notice the same man from last night—a member of his security team, I presume, judging by his hawkish eyes and take-no-crap expression—standing at one side of the elevator, stoic as can be.
He’s silent, looking everywhere but at me, yet I don’t miss the slight quirk of his lips. Like he knows exactly why Rhys is looking at me the way he is.
As if he wants to devour me whole.
“Hi.”
The lone word I speak comes out unsteadily as I clutch my purse to my runaway heart. All the confidence I’ve spent the morning fighting to summon evaporates, dissipating into the air like vapor.
“Hello, love.”
His rough timbre sends goosebumps racing across my skin. That voice, darkly erotic and unapologetically masculine, makes me want to melt into a puddle right at his boots.
“You look...”
He prowls forward, moving out of the elevator until he’s near enough for me to touch him, to feel his breath against my skin.
I inhale sharply, catching the intoxicating scent of his daytime cologne—a rich, earthy blend that screams “worship me” instead of “worship this brand.”
“Jesus,” he groans, drinking me in with hooded eyes. “You’re exquisite, Sadie. So soft and sweet and utterly delectable.”
The blush staining my cheeks has nothing to do with embarrassment and everything to do with the dagger of desire spearing low in my belly at his compliment.
There’s no denying the truth—I want him.
Badly. Desperately. Right here and now.
Every feminine instinct surges, a siren call demanding I close the scant distance between us and plaster myself against him, winding my arms around his neck as he slants his mouth over mine in a kiss hot enough to ignite flames, the sure start of a five-alarm blaze.
“Is... I mean, is this okay?” I ask, sweeping a shaky hand down my front, gesturing to my sundress. “If you want, I can change into something dressier, something more—”
“Don’t you dare.” His clipped response is an almost growl. Scorched and dripping with something primal. “You’re the most beautiful bloody thing I’ve ever seen.”
His words hit their mark.
One by one, they steal my breath, sparks erupting in my veins. Anticipation thrums through me, lighting me up from the inside as he closes the scant distance separating us.
His hand skates up my bare arm to cup the column of my throat, the subtle flex of his fingers sending a gentle but possessive message.
Mine.
Just like last night, his intensity should scare me.
But it doesn’t—not even close.
Sensing the charged moment transpiring between us, his security steps out of the still-open elevator and heads down the hall. Far enough away to give us privacy while remaining close enough to intervene if needed.
But Rhys? His gaze remains on me.
Completely and unequivocally unfaltering.
“Sleep well?”
I swallow. Hard. “Eventually,” I admit, my voice a needy rasp. “You?”
“Not even close.” His scent continues to assail me as his grip on my throat remains steady, making me want to bury my face in the crook of his neck and just breathe him in. “I was rather... distracted after our call.” He smirks. “Couldn’t stop picturing the way you’d looked at me, just begging for and needing my touch.”
A thrill races through me. “Is that so?”
He dips his chin in affirmation. “I don’t suppose”—his voice lowers impossibly deeper, becoming a toe-curling rasp—“you dreamt of me? Of my hands on your tanned skin, my mouth licking and sucking your pert nipples...”
I’m half convinced he’s trying to kill me.
The sultry words paint a vivid picture in my mind, and my breathing hitches, my body alight with unchecked want. “Actually, I did.”
His pupils dilate, eclipsing his hazel irises. “Tell me.”
Fueled by the naked desire on his face, I let my eyes drift shut. “I dreamed of kissing you. Of feeling your lips owning mine, your tongue delving deep into my mouth, our tastes mixing, becoming one.”
An unintelligible, gravelly curse.
It leaves Rhys’s mouth as he releases my throat and cups my jaw, tilting my head back gently, his thumb sweeping across my cheek in a breathlessly tender gesture.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about your lips from the moment you walked away last night,” he confesses roughly. “Your taste and feel, your cries of pleasure as I play your sweet body like a fiddle. Christ, I crave it all. More than my next sodding breath.”
Well, that makes two of us.
“Rhys...” Heart lodged high in my tightening throat, his name rolls off my tongue in the form of a mere whisper. Now I know for sure no one’s ever desired me like this, with such all-consuming want and need.
It’s terrifying and thrilling in equal measure.
Leaning in until his lips hover a hair’s breadth from mine, he pins me with a searing look. “I’m going to kiss you now, love. Going to bloody consume you until you’re trembling. Until the only thing falling from those decadent lips is my name.”
If he keeps this up, it’ll be me who faints.
“Stop talking,” I sass, “and start doing.”
His head swoops down and I rise on my toes to meet him. But just as I breathe in his exhale and he inhales mine...