Chapter Eleven
RHYS
It’s been a week since I’ve seen Bristol, and it’s not for lack of trying. Club business comes above all else, and it’s been a hellish week. But today I get a reprieve from work and the general bullshit.
Wes Draven is coming up today from Aspen Ridge to finally help with the bullshit tracing we’re doing on the bank accounts.
Apparently, he and his little wife have been hibernating in a cabin he just purchased out in the middle of nowhere.
I don’t even want to begin to ask what the hell they were doing out there unplugged from society, considering the rumors about the hunter and prey games he’s into.
I’ve got just enough time to go out today before needing to get back here for club business.
“You think she’s gonna fall for me, Mr. Bun-Buns?
” I ask as I stroke his soft white fur. I got him two years ago, and it was the best decision.
I’m close to all my patch brothers, but I wanted something for myself and didn’t think a dog was the right choice at the time.
I know the men make jokes about how he’s softened me, but I’ve always been this way, and I like the calm that he brings me.
Like that violent storm inside me is hushed when he’s in my arms. Animals are magnificent creatures, and humans are too lucky to feel their love.
When most of us don’t deserve it at all.
It’s a belief that Bristol and I share, and I don’t have to expend much energy into imagining what a life would be like with her and a pack of animals for us to love on.
The fact that her fiancé isn’t an animal person is a huge red flag, and I don’t know how she didn’t run straight for the hills.
How does someone so good and sweet like Bristol end up with someone who doesn’t even share the same passions?
At least he won’t be around for long. I can feel it.
Bristol can feel it. I just need to give her time.
I’ll never control her, never make decisions for her, or take away her ability to make them.
She needs to live the life she wants to, but I’m gonna make damn sure she knows that this thing between us is real and rare, even if I can only be her friend right now.
“Alright, my little guy, I’ve got to get our woman and get her to fall in love with me. I’ll be back.” Setting Mr. Bun-Buns back in his cage, I refill his water and set out some more hay and food before heading to the shower.
As the hot water cascades over my body, my thoughts start to wander as they have since the moment I laid eyes on her.
This time, Bristol is on her back for me, my head between her gorgeous thighs.
What would it be like to wrap her legs over my shoulders while she takes my tongue deep in her pussy?
I want to know how wet she gets. If she squirts.
If she likes just a tongue on her clit or fingers in her pussy at the same time.
My cock pulls with need, painfully jutting upright and demanding attention.
My hands have a mind of their own as I grip my dick with one hand, cupping my balls tightly with the other.
I stroke myself from root to tip, pleasure zipping through my spine and spreading outward.
I picture my woman arching into me, her taste flooding my mouth as I devour her sweet center.
It’s easy to picture her bright hazel eyes as they gloss over from pleasure, her plump bottom lip held hostage between her teeth.
I’d spread open her lips, giving myself easy access to her pink center, flicking my tongue against her swollen, tight little bud, devouring her, suffocating myself in the purest heaven that exists.
Precum leaks steadily from my slit, my hips pumping into my fist. I twist my hand around the tip, trying to slow things down, but I’m too far gone.
I’d eat her until her legs were shaking, her fingernails digging into my head, her hips gyrating under me, chasing her pleasure. Fuck, I want to make a mess of her, make her pussy drip with cum for me to lap up. I want her to cover me, my beard drenched with her. I’m fucking desperate.
Completely lost to the scene playing out in my head, I fuck my hand vigorously until hot ribbons of cum are pulsing out of me, splashing on the tile floor of the shower, her name on my lips as my orgasm rolls through me. I slam my hand against the wall, my head dipping into the spray of the shower.
Fuck, I need my woman.
“Hi, I’m registered to volunteer today, my name is—”
“Rhys.” Bristol’s voice hits my ears, and I can’t help the resulting smile.
Turning to face her, she’s standing a few feet away, looking surprised but relieved to see me.
She’s wearing a pair of black scrubs that hug her perfectly, giving me a full image of her sexy-as-hell curvy body.
Her dark hair is pulled back in a fancy braid, little wisps escaping and framing her face.
She’s so beautiful, and I don’t think she has any damn idea how much.
“Miss me, Dr. Owens?”
“I didn’t know if you got sick of us here in Bloomfield and you decided to stay in Amberwood.”
“They do have the best coffee and pastries,” I jest as I hold up the white pastry bag and the carrier holding our drinks.
Bristol looks at the items, her shoulders dropping, pretty little lips turning up in a smile.
That right there is what I want to wake up to every single morning.
“Do you have a moment for a break, or is it all work and no play today?”
Bristol looks at her watch, hand dropping back to her side as she meets my eyes. “I have about thirty minutes before I need to prep for surgery.”
“I’ll take every minute I can get,” I reply with a wink.
I follow Bristol into her office; the white walls are filled with framed photographs of animals.
They aren’t the prebought kind either; you can tell they’re real animals from here that she has matched with the perfect family.
It’s so attractive to meet a woman who’s happy with what she’s chosen to do with her life.
I couldn’t respect her more. I hope the asshole she’s wrongfully agreed to marry knows what an incredibly rare and perfect woman he has.
Just the thought alone makes rage surge forward.
The idea of her going to sleep every night next to another man, that someone else gets to touch her, feel her body against his, know the heaven that’s between her thighs, makes me want to murder him and erase his existence from this plane and the next.
“Are you okay?” Bristol’s sweet voice breaks me out of my dark fog, like a ray of fucking sunshine cutting through the gloom of my sinful thoughts.
“I’m good. Better now.”
“Good, you deserve to be happy, Rhys.” Her words cause me to pause, like there’s a hidden meaning under them. Is she not happy? I study her face while she opens the pastry bag, pulling out her banana muffin and resting it on a napkin.
“Tell me something no one knows.”
“Mmm. That again?”
“Let me be the keeper of your secrets, Bristol.” I watch as she contemplates the question, picking off a piece of her muffin and bringing it to her mouth.
Bristol’s lips close around her finger, and my dick perks right up.
Fucker. I cough into my hand, crossing my legs and readjusting so she doesn’t see me sporting a hard-on.
“I want to own a rescue. Buy a huge piece of land and be the place where animals can go to live out the rest of their lives, without fear, without desperation. Just peace.”
“You really are special. The world needs more of you.”
“I seriously doubt that, trust me. I’ve got flaws for days.”
I scoff. “I doubt that. From where I’m sitting, you’re pretty perfect.” Bristol laughs, a deep, self-deprecating laugh that feels like a cut to my heart. How can she not see what I see? Who the fuck is making her feel bad about herself?
“Yeah? Well, apparently, I need to hit up the gym more often to lose weight, take cooler showers, give up my career to be a housewife, and be more available and understanding. So, real mess over here.”
I’ll fucking kill him.
But I can’t let any of that show right now; none of this is her fault.
But I fucking knew she wasn’t happy. I knew something was lacking, or she wouldn’t feel this crackling energy between us.
Hell, she could be married with ten kids by now, and it still wouldn’t change what’s between us.
You can’t fight fate. You can’t fight soulmates.
That motherfucker just put himself at the very top of my kill list. My dad used to say that shit to my mom, and flashbacks teeter at the back of my eyelids.
“You’re fucking worthless, Alice! Fucking pathetic. You’ve got one goddamn job, and you can’t even do that!”
“I’m sorry, Victor. I worked hard on this dinner. I thought you would love it!”
Glasses shatter as my dad swipes his hand over the dinner table, knocking plates, cups, and utensils to the floor.
I wince, my nails digging into the edge of my wooden chair.
My eyes don’t leave my mom’s, wanting to do anything I can to help her.
But I know if I do, she’d never forgive me.
She wouldn’t survive seeing me hit. My mom gives me a quick shake of her head, telling me to leave the room.
I go to move, anger and fear making my body tremble.
Before I can get inches off my seat, strong hands grip the back of my shirt, pulling me back down.
“No! He can watch! He’s too weak! You’ve made our only son weak, you pathetic bitch!”
“He’s not weak, Victor! Please! Just let him go to his room! I’m sorry!”
“You’re sorry, Alice? Sorry? If you were sorry, our food wouldn’t be all over the floor, would it?
If you were sorry, you would have made me a steak like I wanted, you would have tried to understand how hard I work for this family, and done something other than being a miserable, sorry excuse for a WIFE! ”