Rhodes

Chapter One Too Much Dick

Mila

“Hey! You forgot your card!”

I look up to find Jordan trying to flag down a woman who just left my salon, but there are other customers in line and the lady clearly didn’t hear her. Shit. “I’ll take it,” I rush out, grabbing it from her and throwing open the door to get outside. “Miss Davis! Your card!”

She turns around just before opening her car door and smiles widely, taking it from me. “You’re amazing, thank you. I’ll see you in two weeks.”

I let her go and wave as she drives off, then turn to head back inside and immediately regret not just keeping that fucking debit card. Roscoe fucking Rhodes is staring right at me, standing there in his stupid sweat-soaked shirt and infuriating curls. I knew when I opened Catacomb in the same plaza as the gym he owned that I wouldn’t be able to avoid him forever, but I hoped I’d at least last longer than a week.

This man has no business being anywhere near me, and I thought ignoring his dozens of messages would help get that point across. I ghosted him for a reason. But here we are, standing in the parking lot eye-fucking each other like idiots. I just need to move.

Hurrying back inside, I pull the door shut behind me as my heart climbs into my throat. Please don’t come in. Please don’t come in. Please don’t —

I catch his reflection in the mirror across from me and know he’s seconds from opening the door. Panicking, I duck behind Jordan’s desk and mouth “I’m not here!” just as the doorbell chimes and a gigantic 6’5 shadow looms over us.

“The fuck kind of place is this?” he asks incredulously, making me want to stand up and kick his ass, not hide. “I thought this was a salon, not a crypt.”

“Excuse me?” Jordan snaps, instantly ready to fight for my business just like I am. “Who do you think you are stomping your sweaty ass in here with that attitude?”

“Whatever, where’s Mila?”

Crossing her arms, she lifts her chin defiantly. “Who?”

“Mila fucking Winters. I just saw her walk in the damn door.”

“Never heard of her,” Jordan says flippantly. “And this isn’t a crypt, it’s an aesthetic based on the Paris catacombs. I’m sure a meathead like you hasn’t heard of them.”

I can’t help it, a loud, quick laugh bubbles out of me and the whole salon goes dead silent. Okay, I’m caught. It’s fine.

Slipping the hair tie from my wrist, I stand up with it between my fingers and completely ignore the man. “Found it!”

The look he tosses my way tells me he doesn’t believe I was looking for a hair tie for even a second. “I’ve heard of them,” he grumbles, looking me over with an amused expression. “Took you that long to find a hair tie, huh?”

“It was under the desk and I don’t need to explain myself to you,” I quip, but I can feel my traitorous cheeks heating up. Fuck me, he’s hotter than I remember and his ever-changing eyes are more green than blue today. Just shoot me. “Can I help you with something, Sir?”

His back goes rigid before he speaks. “Yeah, you can. Have you talked to your ex, ma’am?”

He takes a few steps closer, making me feel even smaller than I already do. So I stand up a little straighter. “Nah, that’s why I gave you his number instead of mine. I figured you two could talk to each other instead of me.”

“Didn’t go so well the last time we talked. Think he’s still a little hung up on you, but whatever. Is there somewhere you and I can talk?”

“No, sorry.” I back up a little, but the bastard follows me. “I’m a little busy since I own the place, but it was nice to see you. Have a good day!”

“Alright, we’ll discuss it here then. Didn’t take you to be the type to ghost someone after coming all over their cock.”

Jordan snorts and tries to look busy, and I don’t miss the way the two customers in the waiting area pointedly look down at their phones.

What an asshole. Grabbing his arm, I drag him back to my office and shut the door, rounding on him. “What is wrong with you?! Are you trying to scare my customers away?”

“No, I was just trying to talk to you... something you seem to be hell-bent on avoiding.” The distance between us is palpable, especially when his scent hits my nose and all I want is to pull him in closer. “Why pretend it wasn’t good when we both know it was?”

“It was fine,” I correct. “And a one time thing.”

“Fine?” I can see it wounds his pride, but I don’t care. I can’t. “Fine. Where’s my shirt?”

In my dirty clothes basket because I wear it three times a week. “What shirt?”

The asshole has the audacity to smile like he’s won something. “You seem a little wound up, Mila. Sure you don’t want to blow off some steam?” He leans in closer again, leaving me powerless to move away, and then suddenly he’s pulling out a business card and pressing it to my forehead. “I can help with that.”

I know what it is before I even look at it, but seeing his name under the Bad Habits Gym logo still makes me roll my eyes. “I have my own gym, thanks.”

“Isn’t this one much more convenient, business owner? Plus, we have eye candy I know you like.”

“Who, Jagger? He’s taken.” I make a show of dropping the card into the trash, then cross my arms. “My best friend might be a little pissy if I tried to take her man.”

Rolling his eyes, Rhodes takes a deep breath like he’s annoyed, but still refuses to leave. “Didn’t know you were thinking about him like that.”

I’m not. I’ve never. But I can’t seem to find any other way to shake this guy. “Is this some ego thing for you?” I ask. “Because I’m the one who ghosted you?”

“You say that like you think I was about to ghost you and you beat me to it. Why the fuck did you give me your ex’s number? Were you hoping he would beat my ass or something? Because I promise you, he lost.”

He... what?

It takes me a second to find my voice. “Did you fight him?”

“No shit,” he deadpans like he actually thought I knew about it, but I didn’t. I haven’t spoken to Lance in over a year and Remi never mentioned Jagger saying anything about it.

Shit. “Why?” I blurt. “I figured he’d text you back and you’d just let it go.”

“I would have let it go if I didn’t think you were just fucking with me. Then he called me and talked all kinds of shit I made his ass back up. It was stupid as fuck.”

Clearly. But Lance had it coming to him, so I can’t deny it actually gives Rhodes a few points in his favor — not that I’ll tell him that. “So what do you want?” I ask. “Why are you embarrassing me in front of customers and yelling at me about a fight you picked?”

“I don’t know,” he growls, running a hand down his face as he finally takes a step away, and for a second he really looks like he doesn’t have a clue how he got here. He’s so tall he takes up the entire doorway when he reaches it, and when he turns back around, there’s nothing lost about him. “One time thing, huh?”

“You say that like you’re not the one who jumped straight to sex,” I argue. “So yeah. One time thing. I thought we were on the same page about that.”

“Obviously the fuck not. Maybe if it was bad sex, but we both know it was good. You just don’t know how to handle a good thing, do you?”

It lands like a slap. No, I don’t know how to handle a good thing, because I’ve never had one that wasn’t secretly a box full of spiders underneath the surface. And the sex? It was great, yeah, but I was sore for a week. There is such thing as too much dick... and Rhodes has it. “Go back to your gym. Please.”

“Please?” He clicks his tongue like he’s disappointed and reaches for the doorknob, only instead of leaving me behind, he locks it. “I don’t think I believe that’s what you want.”

Why does he always see right through me? “Rhodes...”

“Winters.” He closes the distance between us, and lightly grips my chin with his forefinger and thumb. “Just shut the fuck up.”

His lips are on mine before I can tell him to go to hell, and suddenly I don’t want to. I’m aching for him, for this, no matter what my stupid mouth says. I only ghosted him to begin with because I knew he was everything I wanted and I didn’t want to break my own heart.

But why can’t I have him again, just one more time?

My lips part and I let him in, jumping back to sit on my desk as I pull him with me.

The pleased growl that rumbles his chest has my clit pulsing with need as he presses himself against me. I hate how much I love the way he smells right now, but it’s everywhere, surrounding me and clouding my judgment.

I’m thankful as fuck I wore a dress today and not another pair of my favorite leggings. Fingers trembling, I reach to push Rhodes’ shorts down and then freeze. “Do you have a condom?”

“Fuck,” he breathes, and I swear I hear disappointment in that one word as he bends to reach into his pocket and tug out his wallet.

I get to watch him as he puts it on this time, fighting the urge to clench my legs when he tears the package open with his teeth without breaking eye contact. “I can smell you.”

Before he puts it on, Rhodes leans in to inhale my pussy and lap at it through the fabric, sending a shockwave up my spine. I absolutely should not be doing this, not with him, but... oh god, his tongue. My fingers tangle in his curls as I hold his head there and wrap my legs around his shoulders. “More,” I whisper, trying not to be overheard. “More, Rhodes. I want more.”

His deep chuckle travels all the way up my core. “More?“ He slides off my panties and stuffs them into his pocket. “Whose pussy is this, Mila?”

Dropping down again, he drapes my legs back around his shoulders and dives in, making it hard to answer — but I’m Mila fucking Winters and my pussy belongs to no man. “It’s mine,” I say firmly, guiding his head the way I want him. It feels so good I slump back against my desk and grind on his tongue, fighting the urge to moan when he sucks on my clit.

I hate how good it feels, hate that it’s him turning me into a puddle after all my grandstanding, but when his thick finger slips inside of me I find I don’t care about anything but getting off.

When the first orgasm hits me, I clamp my hand over my mouth and stifle the moan begging to get out. This is the wrong place for this, the wrong time, the wrong man. Wrong, wrong, wrong.

But god, it feels right.

“Fuck me,” I whisper, pulling him up. “Now.”

I want to slap the smirk off his face as he stands up, but once again all the fight leaves my body when he pushes himself inside of me and stretches me in the way only he can. “Forgot how fucking tight you are, woman. Fuck.”

His fingers dig into my hips as he holds me in place to make me take it. I’m not that tight, he’s just bigger than my body should be able to take — and as the familiar pain spikes through me, I remember the main reason I told myself I wouldn’t do this again.

I’m not a champ when it comes to big dicks, and I hate doing things I don’t think I’m good at.

“So good,” he mumbles, and the praise helps more than I’d ever admit. “Mila.”

His lips find mine as he moves at an agonizingly slow pace, making this way more intimate than it needs to be.

Is that why he’s doing it, or is he just trying to give me time to adjust?

“Faster,” I mumble, wrapping my legs around his ass to pull him in. “I have to get back out there.”

“Don’t rush me,” he grumbles, bottoming out in one hard thrust that has me gasping. “You gonna lie to me some more and say you haven’t daydreamed about me fucking you in all these months?”

“You talk too much,” I deflect, wishing I could hide my face. The truth is I’ve thought of that night a thousand times. Longed for it, even. But I’ll die before admitting it out loud to anyone at all. “Don’t make me hurt your feelings.”

“Alright then.” Rhodes sits up to put some distance between us, staying deep inside of me as he pulls my straps down my arms to lower my dress and expose my breasts. The twin nipple bars have a pleased look settling over his face before he tweaks one, and when his eyes meet mine, he stops holding back.

He holds me there by my ribs to take every brutal thrust he tosses my way, eyes locked on my breasts as they bounce, so that’s what I hold onto. The way he looks at me, the feral way he seems to desire me. I’ve never had that before.

“Have you thought about it?” I ask, telling myself it’s only to distract myself from the ache already building in my gut from the size of him. It feels good, but... overwhelming.

His bright eyes flick up to mine. “I’ve thought about a lot of things.” His voice is far too even for how he’s currently rearranging my guts. “Thought about putting you on your knees while I fuck your smartass mouth until you choke almost every day.”

God, why is that so hot? And why do I wish he’d have done it?

“That thing wouldn’t fit in my mouth, sorry,” I quip, tipping my head back and squirming even as he holds me in place until another orgasm bleeds through me. Staying quiet fucking sucks. “What else?”

His hand wraps around my throat with a speed too fast for my hazy vision, pulling me halfway up so I can’t look at anything but him, and yet he’s still too far to kiss. “Thought about how I wished I didn’t wear a condom so you’d still have my cum inside you when you fucking ghosted me.”

His grip tightens, hips snapping even harder until it feels like he’s trying to punish me. “Rhodes,” I gasp out. “Please, it’s too m—”

His mouth crashes to mine so hard I taste blood, but whether it’s from mine or his soft, plush lips I can’t tell — nor do I care. It’s a heated sloppy kiss that I’m sure both of us will try to forget when this is done, because despite how angry it is, it’s everything we needed. I don’t need him to say he feels it too.

“Thought about finding out where you live so I could break in and just take you when you got home from work one day. Making it so you had nowhere to fucking hide.”

“You’re insane,” I accuse, but the way that giant red flag is making me near the edge again is hard to deny. I’m just pretty sure I only have one more in me before oversensitivity ruins it. “Are you gonna come for me?”

“That what you want, sweetheart? You want me to come for you?”

Yes, before he does irrevocable damage to my intestines. I meet his eyes and pull my bottom lip between my teeth as I give into that orgasm, then whisper, “Come inside me, Rhodes.”

“Fuck!” he growls, the sound far too loud for Jordan not to have heard, but I hope to god the music we have playing is loud enough to keep it from any customers’ ears.

He slams deep inside with his release, another growl leaving him when he pulls back to snap deeper again, and I have to fucking hope that condom stayed where it was supposed to. I’m playing with fire here.

“Good boy. Pull out slowly, I like my insides to remain inside.”

His jaw ticks, but the second his cock is out of me, his fingers take their place and just sit there. “I’d be shoving my cum back in right now if I could.”

That feral look overtakes his face again, and I have to get rid of this beast before I ruin my entire business in one day. “Well, you wore a condom. Sorry. You need to go.”

“You’re a cold woman, Winters.” He steps back entirely, and when our contact is broken, I hate myself for craving more just like I did last time. I peek at the condom in his hands as he ties it off and notice how full it is, how much of it would’ve flooded inside me if I hadn’t made him wear one. What would it feel like to have him finger it deeper?

Fuck. My thighs clench together and remind me what a fucking mess I am right now. It makes my stomach turn thinking about seeing clients like this, but I made my bed. Something about this man turns me into a whore who can’t think about anything but sex, which means he needs to go.

Hopping off the desk, I ignore the way my knees buckle as I fix my dress. “Can I have my underwear back?”

Adjusting himself, Rhodes reaches into his pocket to pull them out, then grins like an asshole. “What underwear?”

“Those ones,” I grumble, reaching to grab them — but the asshole holds them higher. I try again on my tiptoes and jump a little, but he’s so damn tall I’d have to climb him like a jungle gym to accomplish it. I refuse to lower myself that much. Standing back, I cross my arms and nod my head toward the door. “Fine. Take them, it’ll be the last thing you get from me.”

“You sure about that?” He grabs my chin and kisses me roughly to prove a point, then steps away with an amused smile. “I’ll call you. Oh wait, I guess I can’t.”

He’s been talking to himself in my DM’s for months, so I’m sure he’ll find a way. “Bye now. Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

“Alright, Mila. Just remember who owns that pussy.” He yanks open the door and steps out, turning his head back to utter one last thing before he leaves. “Congratulations on the salon by the way. You did good.”

And then he’s gone, leaving me standing there feeling so off balance I don’t know if I have it in me to go back to work today. I want to go home, soak in a bath, and rant to Remi until I feel better... but I can’t. I barely gave her any details after the first time and I’m too embarrassed to say anything about what just happened. So I guess I’ll do what I always do.

Bury it and get back to work.