Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Wolfe
I woke up pressed up against the sun.
It took a second for my eyes to focus, for me to realize it wasn’t the damn sun, just Rhys.
Fuck.
If we were going to be sleeping in the same bed, I was going to have to get a fan for the room. Between us, we generated a significant amount of heat.
My mind drifted back to last night. Yeah, we’d certainly generated some heat. My cock, already tenting the sheet draped over my legs, was ready for a replay. Glancing over at the clock, I realized I had fifteen minutes before I had to get in the shower.
Fifteen minutes was just enough time to...
Spooning behind Rhys, I positioned my cock so that I could grind myself against his ass, my body hardening, my need growing infinitely stronger.
The sleeping man shifted, his body moving closer to me as he mumbled, “Mmm. Mornin’.”
I nipped his shoulder, my voice thick with sleep as I whispered, “I need to be inside you again.”
The mere thought of burying my dick inside Rhys’s hot fucking body had precum pooling on the tip.
Reaching over his hips, I took his rigid erection in my hand, slowly stroking, enjoying the sleepy moans coming from him. “Thinkin’ about me, are ya?”
“Wolfe…” Rhys’s hips rocked forward and back, his shoulders pressing against my chest. “Feels good.”
That was an understatement. Everything about this man felt damn near perfect. And this … waking up to Rhys in my bed… It was better than I had expected.
“Want me to blow you before or after I fuck you? Because as much as I wanna be inside you right now, I wanna taste you, want you to come down my throat.”
We groaned in unison.
“Holy fuck,” Rhys moaned, his hips pumping, ass grinding against my aching dick. “After.”
Releasing his cock, I flipped over and grabbed a condom. I rolled the latex on and lathered lube over myself before turning back to find Rhys on his stomach, his hips grinding against the mattress.
Goddamn, the man was fucking hot.
Moving over him, I kissed his naked back, running my tongue along the smooth skin and rigid muscle, dragging my lips up to his neck. I rubbed my stubble-lined jaw along Rhys’s shoulder, enjoying the warmth beneath me.
“No foreplay.” It wasn’t a question. I needed to be inside him right now.
“No foreplay,” Rhys echoed.
Within seconds, I had lodged myself balls deep, the heat of his ass enveloping me.
“Christ,” I breathed, holding myself completely still while my body tightened painfully hard.
Rhys moaned, his hands coming to rest on top of mine, our fingers twining together.
I rocked my hips. Rather than race to the finish line, I took my time, relishing the feel of Rhys’s ass as it strangled my dick. A steady tingle started at the base of my spine, but I willed it back, rocking forward, lodging myself as deep as I could go.
“Fuck, I could get used to this,” I whispered, holding myself still for a second before retreating, then pushing in again. Slow … deep… “You feel so damn good.”
The tingling warning of my impending orgasm intensified. I increased my pace, my cock tunneling in and out of his tight hole, hips punching against his ass, while I tightened my fingers around his, holding on to the man as I drove myself to completion.
I didn’t linger once I was spent. I had something else in mind, something I'd dreamed about last night. Wanting to take care of Rhys, I immediately pulled out, then flipped him onto his back before sucking the man’s steel-hard cock into my mouth.
This time I didn’t take my time; I wanted him to come.
Rhys’s fingers twined in my hair like they’d done last night, but this time the man wasn’t gentle. He pulled my hair, rough groans echoing in the dark room as he fucked my mouth.
I cupped his balls as I sucked him, applying more suction every time while I fisted the base, stroking.
Rough.
Hard.
“Oh, fuck… Wolfe… It’s too much. Oh, God.”
Rhys’s body bowed as his release took him. I drank him down, cleaning him with my tongue before crawling up his body and kissing him for the first time that morning.
Yeah.
It was safe to say I could get used to waking up like this.
An hour later, I was pulling into the shop. Amy’s car was in the parking lot already, and I had to glance at the clock to make sure I wasn’t late.
I wasn’t.
Which meant she was early.
Before I could get my truck door open, Amy had sprinted around to the driver’s side. And the instant I put my boots on the gravel, she was in my arms, her body crashing into mine.
Fear hit me harder than she did.
“What’s wrong?” Panic clutched my chest, a painful constriction that made it difficult to breathe.
She didn’t respond, a sob the only sound she made.
“Amy.” I tried to pull back, tried to push her away, desperate to look at her face, but she was locked to me, her arms around my waist, her face buried in my chest. “Damn it, Amy. Talk to me.”
The sound of her crying nearly had my knees giving out, dread filling me, stealing at least ten years off my life.
“Amy!” I wasn’t known for panic attacks but the woman had me coming unraveled. I had no idea what was wrong, but it was something. Frantic to get answers, I tried to push her back again, wanting to look in her eyes. “Did something happen?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Are you hurt?”
Her face rubbed against me as she continued to shake her head.
Only then did some of the ball-shriveling fear deflate.
With my ass leaning against my truck seat, I wrapped my arms around her, clutching her tightly.
She was trembling, her shoulders shaking, her body heaving with every breath she took.
There was no way she could miss how tense I was, yet she still didn’t let go. I rubbed her back, letting her cry.
As we stood there, I continued to slide my palm over her back as I reached for my phone. With one hand, I shot a text to Rhys.
Need you over at the shop. Now. This is personal business. About Amy.
I tucked my phone in my pocket and tried to stand upright. “Let’s go inside, baby.”
Amy inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly, her hands releasing my T-shirt.
It took some effort, but she finally let go.
When she stood straight, she didn’t make eye contact.
Her head hung low when I wrapped my arm over her shoulder and steered her toward the building.
It took a minute for me to unlock the door and disengage the alarm.
A little longer since I kept one arm around her, keeping her pressed up against my body.
My phone buzzed, but I didn’t check it. If Rhys could get away, I knew he would. If he couldn’t, then I would fill him in later. Right now, I could only focus on one thing, and that was getting Amy to tell me what happened.
I maneuvered her over to a chair and eased her into it. I squatted on my haunches in front of her, trying to get down on her level, wanting her to look at me.
“What’s goin’ on, Amy?”
She buried her face in her hands, but she’d stopped crying.
I waited as patiently as I could for her to pull herself together.
A few seconds later, Amy was wiping the tears from her face with the heels of her hands, her breath returning to normal.
With my hands on her thighs, I looked her over, trying to assure myself that she wasn’t hurt.
She finally lifted her head, her dark eyes meeting mine. “Can you call Rhys?”
The request had my heart slamming into my sternum. “In an official capacity?”
Another head shake. “No. I just…” She wiped another tear from her cheek and exhaled heavily. “I don’t want to tell this story twice.”
Oh, fuck.
As much as I needed to hear this, I wasn’t sure I was ready. More importantly, I wasn’t sure I'd be able to refrain from killing someone once I had.
Amy
I was tired, slightly hysterical, and a little on edge.
Okay, so the little part was the understatement of the century.
More like I was vibrating with anxiety and I had to do something to relieve the pressure.
After Reagan showed up at my house last night, I had hidden out in my bedroom, terrified, unable to close my eyes, no matter how exhausted I was. The nightmares were getting worse and I was afraid to close my eyes. I had no one to turn to. No one.
Except Rhys and Wolfe.
Although I dreaded telling them what had happened, I knew I had to tell someone. It was getting worse. The terror-filled dreams, the looking over my shoulder, the walking around expecting him to show up at any moment.
The only thing stopping me was not wanting to see the pity in their eyes when they realized how incredibly weak I was.
I still heard Rhys’s words ringing in my ears.
She puts up with a lot of shit, but she would never tolerate him laying a hand on her.
He’d sounded so confident, complete faith in his sister that she wouldn’t do what I had done. Wouldn’t be a victim.
What would Rhys think of me once he knew the truth? That I had spent nearly five years living in fear, suffering daily, beaten into submission almost from the second I'd moved in with him. That I'd allowed it.
Not that I'd had much of a choice. Even on my worst days, I knew I never had a choice.
But even now, more than a year later, the tears wouldn’t stop, and the fear wouldn’t subside, and I was tired of both. I was tired period.
So, last night, when I'd been clutching the blankets to my chin, staring up at the ceiling, waiting for a sound, something to signal that he’d found me, that he had come back to finish the job, I came to a decision.
It wasn’t if he would find me. It was when. And when that day came, when he did succeed in doing what he’d attempted already, I wanted someone to know. If for no other reason than hopefully they’d be able to put him behind bars when he did succeed in killing me.
It was the least he deserved.
Wolfe pulled his phone out of his pocket and glanced at the screen. “Rhys is on the way.”