Chapter Twenty-Nine
brISTOL
Iexpected the morning after a night full of sex with someone new, after so many years, would come with awkwardness, maybe some shame, worry.
What I didn’t expect was how comfortable it would be.
I should have known better. Rhys was right, our first time together under the stars, he made love to me.
He was passionate and sweet, and it was everything I needed in that moment.
Last night? He fucked me the way a man who is obsessed with his woman fucks her. Without inhibition, without reservation, just a dark, primal, raw need. God, I can still feel him inside me now.
I rub my thighs together, feeling the ache between them that an entire night of fucking leaves behind. This must be what Kira has been bragging about for years. A door shuts somewhere close by, followed by the bed sinking behind where I’m lying on my side.
Rhys’ warm, steady hands are right there next, pulling my hair out of my face and combing his fingers through the strands.
“Good morning, my love, how do you feel?” God, his voice is so warm and smooth, like melted chocolate. I push back against his big body, seeking his warmth.
“Mmm. Better than ever. You wore me out.”
Rhys laughs then, a deep rumble that vibrates through his chest and into my back.
“Good. But now you need to nourish your body; it needs fuel, especially after last night.”
With Rhys’ guidance, I scoot up, putting my back against the headboard and coming face-to-face with what sits at the foot of the bed.
“You brought me breakfast in bed?”
Rhys smirks, running his hand over his beard. “I did. And now I’m going to do something I’ve been dying to do since the first time we had breakfast together.”
“I believe it was brunch,” I jest.
“Brunch then,” he concedes, smiling and pulling out my favorite banana muffins from Daily Rise, followed by two Sunrise Brioche. He hands me my mug first, and I know without tasting it that it’s a Morning Fog Latte.
I can so easily imagine lazy mornings with him, sipping coffee in bed with no rush to enter the outside world. A future with Rhys Hudson would be a gift.
I lift the to-go cup to my lips, the warmth rolling across my tongue, a velvety heat that’s become so familiar, comforting, and also a tiny bit electrifying. The taste that I relate to Rhys now. My eyes close for a brief moment, only to open and see Rhys’ eyes smoldering in return.
“Damn, baby. I love watching you enjoy things. Can I feed you, please?”
My heart stutters in my chest. How could I deny a request like that?
I watch as he breaks off the top of the muffin, setting it off to the side.
I can’t hide the smile as I realize he knows exactly how I eat them.
Rhys hasn’t just been spending time with me, he’s been studying me, learning every little mundane thing, like how I separate the top from the bottom, eating the bottom first and then the top, always picking off pieces and never biting.
He brings a small piece of the mouthwatering bread to my mouth, and with our eyes locked in on each other, I open for him, my lips closing around the food and the tip of his thumb. The groan that rumbles up his chest is audible and so fucking hot.
“Jesus, woman. Do you know how long I’ve waited to do that?”
“Feed me?”
“Yes, my love, feed you. Take care of you, dote on you, love on you. You deserve to be treated like a queen, and I plan to spend my life at your feet, worshipping you the way you deserve, if you’ll let me.”
“Where did you come from, Rhys Hudson?”
“I’ve just been here, waiting for you.”
Rhys lounges in front of me in nothing but a pair of tight black boxer briefs.
My eyes roam his body appreciatively, not believing he’s real.
He looks like a Greek god, carved and chiseled to masculine perfection.
His tattoos span the majority of his body—a massive skull in the center of his chest with a crown tilted off the side, a long dagger impaling it from top to bottom.
It’s the same design that is on the back of his leather club vest.
“What does the skull, crown, and dagger mean?”
“It’s our club colors, like our insignia. It represents our club affiliation. It’s important to us, just like the cut is.”
I nod, listening to him speak as he continues to break off pieces of the muffin, feeding me casually. I swallow down a bite, still looking over each black and grey design.
“What about the butterfly? That one seems out of place compared to the rest.”
“That one’s for my mom. Butterflies represent transformation, rebirth, and freedom.
It’s exactly what happened to her when she got away from my dad.
I wear it as a reminder of what she’s been through and how she came out of such a dark time and grew into this glowing, incredible woman.
She has always been incredible; he just broke her down so many times, she lost who she was.
But she didn’t let the scars of her past define her, and her rebirth has been a privilege to watch. ”
“I love how much you love her, Rhys. It must have been so hard all those years. I’m so sorry. You two are close?”
“Very. I’d love for you to meet her. She’d love you. You’re a lot alike—warm, open, loving.”
Rhys splits his Sunrise Brioche, the custard oozing out of the center.
He breaks off a piece, dipping it in the cream before bringing it to my lips.
The flavors explode on my tongue: a light citrus, balanced with vanilla cream and the orange glaze on the top of the bun.
I suck it off of Rhys’ finger, his eyes going wide as he tracks the ministration.
My eyes flick to the outline of his large dick hardening against the thin fabric of his boxer briefs.
I wonder if I’ve always affected him this way, and he was just hiding it.
Rhys pulls his finger free, and before I can even start chewing, he’s kissing me.
Several loud knocks on the door startle me. Rhys’ shoulders pull back, his spine straight as he visibly tenses. “Just a minute, baby. Let me see what they need.”
It hits me like a bucket of ice water as I plummet back down to reality. We aren’t in a bedroom in a house, alone; we’re in the center of a clubhouse filled with its members. Members who didn’t seem happy that I’m here.
Rhys reluctantly stands, heading to the door of his room, opening it a crack, and standing off with whoever’s on the other side.
Voices trickle into the room, despite their hushed tones.
I sip my latte, the sweet taste the only thing currently keeping me tethered from having a complete and utter breakdown.
I know the rest of Rhys’ club is going to want to talk to him, but I was just hoping for more time to figure out a plan together before he needed to leave me. I can’t stay here forever; I just needed a place to go so I could figure everything out first.
I wish I knew if Blake was serious or if he was just using a scare tactic to get me to comply with his demands not to leave.
The tactic that worked for a while. Would the people he worked for really kill Rhys or any of the people here, or—oh god, his mom.
Would he really burn the shelter down? I’m sure he’s figured out by now that I’ve left.
I need to check on it. Call Kendra and make sure everything is good.
My heart starts to rapidly pound in my chest, my breathing coming in shallow pants.
“Looks like I can’t keep you all to myself.” He frowns. “Jesus, are you okay, sweetheart? What’s going on? Take a deep breath for me.”
“I’m, I’m so scared, Rhys. What if he really comes to hurt you?
Or your mom? Do you think the shelter is okay?
He was just trying to scare me, right? There’s no way I was living with someone for so long who’s okay with these things.
He was having me followed. What if they followed me here?
What if he already knows where I am? I’m so sorry, Rhys.
I shouldn’t have come here. I don’t know what I was thinking. ”
“Hey, hey, listen to me, breathe, deep breath in, hold it, hold it, exhale. Good. Now do it one more time. That’s my girl.
Just breathe.” I focus on his words, his huge hands as he holds my head and looks into my eyes with so much love and compassion.
I can’t help but relax, melting into his touch.
“Good. I promise you, nothing is going to happen to me, or you, or my mom, or anyone else we love, for that matter. I’ve already sent two men to the shelter to make sure the building, staff, and animals are safe.
They report back every hour. I’m going to make sure nothing happens.
” Rhys says the words with such sincere conviction that I can’t help but believe him, but the thought and possibilities still scare the hell out of me.
“Now, let’s get dressed. I’m going to introduce you to some people, and I have to have a meeting with the club’s ranked members. You are safe here. I’ll tell you that as many times as you need to hear it.”
The clubhouse looks different in the daytime.
It almost looks . . . normal? It reminds me of the common areas found in the dormitory buildings of my college in a way.
There are club members lounging in chairs and sprawled across couches, most are drinking coffee, others are smoking cigarettes, all trying to wake up, all wearing a similar black leather vest with the skull on the back.
They don’t really look like hardened criminals.
Rhys guides me through the large room, huge windows lining the front of the building, with tall, vaulted ceilings and exposed wood beams. A long bar fills one side of the room, the other side fitted with two pool tables, dart boards, and more couches. It’s kind of cozy.