Chapter 18
CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN
ANGEL
Rhys keeps up the chatter all the way from The Bronzed Rail back to his place. He tells me about the club and the other performers, about Anna Conda and how she auditioned for Drag Race . He asked me if I watch Drag Race —I don’t, but I might need to start.
He tells me about how Sebastian and Christian got together, and how Noel and Bellamy did too shortly after. There’s a wistfulness in his voice as he recounts their stories, and it makes me wonder whether Rhys is looking for his own love story.
My stomach twists uncomfortably and something hot and uneasy takes up residence in the middle of my chest. I rub at it. Maybe I drank those beers too fast tonight, and they’re not sitting well for some reason.
“It’s very romantic,” I say when Rhys finishes.
Rhys sighs. “It really is.”
“So, uh, are you and Hayden…?” The burning in my ch est increases and I cough, trying to clear the constricted feeling.
“You okay?” Rhys reaches across the center console and rubs my shoulder. He’s sitting sideways in the passenger-side seat of my truck, one knee bent so he can face me. The touch sends a completely different kind of heat spreading down my arm and through my chest.
“Yeah, uh, yeah, I was just saying…” I cough again.
“Something about me and Hayden?”
I nod as my throat kind of feels like maybe some beer went down the wrong tube.
Rhys tilts his head and his hair falls in a silky cascade over his shoulder. “Me and Hayden…” Then his eyes widen and his jaw drops. “Are we together? Oh god, no! Not even a little bit!”
The tightness in my chest starts to ease and my coughing subsides. “I just thought maybe… you know, because of your videos… and what you said about Sebastian and Christian.”
Rhys laughs, bright and bubbly, and I smile at the sound. “Hayden and I are only friends. Period. I mean, yes, we’ve got decent chemistry on-screen, and I love the guy to death, but it’s not like that.”
I take a deep breath and my lungs expand like I didn’t just have a weird coughing fit a second ago. “Great! I mean, not great, but like, not not great. Just that, it’s cool that you’re friends, you know, and that, like, you can… do… stuff.”
Oh dear heavens above, god, please strike me down now. My ears are on fire.
Rhys laughs out loud again, leaning over the center console to rest his head on my shoulder. “Teddy bear, you’re amazing. And yes, I do know.”
His words wind around me, wrapping me up, all warm and snug. He thinks I’m amazing. Rhys thinks I’m amazing.
And right then, we pull up in front of his apartment building. I don’t know if this is perfect timing or the absolute worst.
Rhys unclips his seat belt, which gives him more room to sit up straight, facing me. His lips are curled in a gentle smile and his eyes are so dark and mysterious, lined with the heavy stage makeup. I stare into them, letting myself get lost in their depths.
“Thanks for the ride,” he says softly after a moment of silence.
“No problem. It’s on my way home.” Well, sort of. With a forty-minute detour. Close enough.
“I’ll talk to you soon?” he asks, as if he doesn’t want to get out of the truck.
If I’m honest with myself, I don’t want him to get out either. I want to drag out this moment for as long as I can. I want it to stretch into eternity.
I nod. “Yup.”
Then, as if the heavens are actually listening, time slows.
I see Rhys coming toward me and I know he’s about to kiss me on the cheek. It’s how he said goodbye that first time in his childhood bedroom, and how he’s said goodbye the other times we’ve met in person.
I watch as he draws near, closer and closer, and at the very last second, I turn my head.
I don’t know why, or even how, but suddenly, it isn’t my cheek that’s in the path of Rhys’s oncoming kiss—it’s my lips.
He gasps quietly when he makes contact, and the same surprise ripples through me. But the gasp is quickly followed by a tender moan that sends desire straight to my dick.
I’m not sure who moves next, whether Rhys climbs into my lap on his own, or if I haul him to me. It doesn’t really matter, because the end result is the same. I have an armful of Rhys and my dick is as hard as a rock.
I fumble for the lever on the side of my seat and when I yank it, the seat goes sliding backward. We hit the end of the rails with a jerk and I let out an oomph , but Rhys doesn’t miss a beat.
His hands bracket my face, holding me still as he plunges his tongue into my mouth. It’s so commanding and so powerful, I’m completely helpless against the onslaught.
I try to chase his tongue, but he nips at my lips in response. I try to lick into his mouth and he sucks on my tongue, holding me captive. With every touch, every movement, pleasure zings through me, pooling in my groin.
It doesn’t help that Rhys is grinding his own hard-on against my erection. My hands might be on his butt, encouraging him along.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know we’re in the cab of my truck and I’m double-parked in the middle of the street. It’s late, so there aren’t many people around. But this is a busy part of Brooklyn, so someone will wander past eventually.
But I don’t care about any of that. Because Rhys is in my lap and his tongue is in my mouth and—oh dear lord. His hands slide down my front, undoing the buttons of my shirt along the way. He rakes his fingernails—glittering gold tonight—down my chest, my stomach. My nipples harden into tight nubs, my dick presses painfully against the metal zipper of my jeans.
Or at least, it did. Because now Rhys is undoing my jeans and reaching into my underwear to pull me out.
I shudder as he licks his palm, then wraps his hand around me. That’s so… dirty, so… debauched, and… it’s so freaking hot.
“Rhys.” His name comes out wispy and strangled. It’s a question and a plea at the same time.
“Shh, teddy bear, relax. I’ve got you.”
Rhys has his own tight red leather pants undone and his dick out before I even realize he’s moved.
Then his dick is on my dick and oh lord, oh heavens, oh. Oh. Oh. It’s mind-shattering, the sensation of our dicks rubbing together. We slip and slide against each other, spit and pre-cum easing the way. The tip of his dick bumps against the ridges of my glans and I think I might actually die from how good it feels.
Rhys’s fingers aren’t long enough for him to wrap around both of us with one hand. He has to use both, one stacked on top of the other, to stroke us from base to tip. His hips move at the same time, like he’s dancing to a silent soundtrack that only the two of us can hear.
Rhys’s lips cover mine, his tongue diving between my lips again. The kiss sends my head spiraling just as his hands on my dick make my body tremble with need.
He leads this dance, guiding me with his tongue and his hands, making me spin until I’m dizzy, flipping me upside down and inside out. I’m lost to the sensations he wrings from me, but I don’t actually feel lost. Rhys knows where we are and where we’re going, and I trust him to lead the way.
It should scare me, and it does, but not the way I would’ve thought. I’m not scared of what I’m turning into. I’m scared of never finding out what I could become.
That truth sparks deep inside, a flickering light in the darkest parts of my soul. It’s small and fragile, but it’s brighter and clearer than anything I’ve ever felt.
“Jesus, Angel,” Rhys murmurs against my lips. There’s a slight hitch in his voice that makes my entire body shudder.
“Rhys,” I whine.
His rhythm accelerates. The music swells. Pleasure courses through me. Pressure builds in my balls.
“Rhys! Rhys!” Every muscle in my body draws tight. There’s a hum in my ears as the air vibrates around us. I hang on, fingers digging into Rhys’s thighs.
He focuses his strokes on the tip, squeezing the head of my dick against his. The tightness sends tingles right down into my balls, toward the base of my spine. It’s too much, I can’t take any more. I’m going to come. I can’t hold it back.
“Yes, yes, that’s it, baby. Come for me, teddy bear, come for me. Now.”
It’s as if he hits the detonate button and I explode on command. My insides liquify as cum erupts from my dick, shooting up between us, hitting me on the chin.
Rhys comes at the same time. His hands clamp down on our dicks, creating an impossibly tight vise. Both of us twitch, and the feeling of his dick moving against mine spurs on my orgasm in wave after wave.
I’ve come undone, ripped open and left in tatters. I thought filming the video with Rhys was hot, but it was tepid compared to this. Getting sucked off by Rhys, getting to be inside him—those were the most amazing things I’d ever felt until now. And now, they’re merely okay compared to this.
This—this intimacy. Holding Rhys so close to me in this small space. Kissing him, tasting him, drowning myself in that flowery scent of his. With no one watching, no cameras pointed in our direction.
This is… amazing. Simply amazing. I feel like I’m flying. Like I’ve stepped off the roof of a skyscraper and I’m soaring.
We stay like this for long moments, panting into each other’s mouths. Rhys’s hands are still on our dicks as we grow soft together. Even as I get sensitive, Rhys’s dick touching mine feels good. Like they’re cuddling together, basking in the afterglow.
The smell of our combined cum is strong. It fills my nose and reminds me of the taste of Rhys’s cum. And just like the day of our shoot, I don’t think before I act.
I take Rhys’s hand. It’s wet and sticky. I bring it up to my lips and lick it. Rhys gasps as I clean his hand with my tongue. The combined flavor of our cum is bitter and earthy, and knowing that it’s both of us mixed together only makes me want more.
Rhys’s jaw hangs open as he watches me lick every inch of his hand, then scoop up the drops of cum that are starting to dry on our stomachs and chests. Then he attacks me, shoving his tongue between my lips like he wants to eat our cum straight from my mouth.
We kiss like we’re starving men fighting for the last scraps of food. But eventually—still too soon for me—Rhys pulls back. His eyes are lowered as his deft hands make quick work of putting us both back together.
I’m still dazed when he finishes, resting his hands on my clothed chest. He studies me, searching my eyes for something. What is he looking for? I’m suddenly anxious to help him find it. Whatever he wants, whatever he needs, I want to be the one to give it to him.
I don’t know what that means, or how I could possibly have what it takes. But I want it. From the core of my being.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
The words are a splash of cold water to the face. I blink as my stomach twists in one hard wrench. “You are?”
He quirks his lips. “Not really.”
It takes a second for his response to sink in and for my tummy to settle. “Good,” I whisper, sliding my hands over his hips and to the small of his back. “Me neither.”
His smile widens and my heart skips a beat. He bends forward for another quick kiss on my lips, so fast it’s over before I can savor it. Then he climbs back into the passenger seat and is out of the truck.
Rhys practically skips to his door and once he pulls it open, he casts one last look over his shoulder. He waves and disappears inside.
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. I think something important just happened.