Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
Bennett
The dogs are epically awesome. I’ve never seen such majestic, breathtaking creatures, though they look like they’ve been taken straight from a history book of extinct animals. I can’t say I’ve been around a lot of wolves, but I’m sure these ones are enormous.
They’re so damn smart, too. I watched them put their bags in the trunk, and then Rhodes had them clean up the toys they’d been playing with. They dragged the basket back into the house. Without being asked!
I’m absolutely enthralled with this entire thing.
In his Heart2Heart profile, Rhodes kind of came across as a snobby rich boy.
Seeing him in person, I probably would have kept that opinion.
His house is enormous. His truck is equally giant.
He wears slacks and a white button-down shirt with a suit jacket.
The top three buttons of his shirt are open, though it’s tucked into his slacks.
Only the top button of his jacket is fastened.
He has a solid silver bracelet around his wrist that reminds me of a single link from a chain-link fence.
His hair glistens in the sunlight. It shines so prettily that I think it’s really fucking soft.
It’s dark brown, like the bark of the trees surrounding his house in the woods.
His facial hair is perhaps the messiest thing about him.
It’s not neatly shaved on his neck, but fuzzy.
Rustic. The way you’d imagine a man in the woods to look.
But his eyes, man. Those beautiful blue eyes. I’m pretty confident that at least three of his dogs have the same color eyes. I wonder if that’s why he chose them as puppies.
Rhodes opens the back sliding door with a plethora of collars hanging off his forearm. I’m not sure where they came from. They seem to have appeared there. “There will be a test later,” he says, eyes flickering to mine. “Watch closely. Sugar.”
One of the dogs steps forward and sits in front of him while Rhodes puts the collar on his neck. Then he climbs into the truck and takes a seat like a person.
“Schnookums,” Rhodes says. The same thing.
I watch through Velvet, Sweetums, Floofy Pants, Lovey Cakes, and Lee. I raise a brow when he calls for Lee. One of these names isn’t like the others.
When they’re all settled inside, Rhodes closes the back door and opens the passenger door for me. It’s not often that someone does that. My smile grows in response.
“Do you like music?” I ask. “Is the drive long?” I climb in and buckle while Rhodes waits patiently. He closes the door without answering, and I watch as he moves around the front of the truck. Then he climbs in beside me and starts the engine.
“The drive isn’t long, and yes, I like music.”
Excellent. “I have a road trip playlist,” I say, pulling out my phone. “Want to listen?”
“Okay, but once we’re on the plane, we need to rapid-fire get to know each other.”
“Deal!”
It takes me exactly three minutes to pair my phone and shuffle through my playlist for the first song.
I’m freaking tickled when he tells the dogs they can join in if they like the song and they howl along.
It’s the cutest thing. I’m so in love with these enormous dogs.
I wonder if they sleep in his bed at night.
Hmm. He’d need an enormous bed for that.
As Rhodes said, the drive isn’t long. It’s even shorter than I thought it would be. We’re barely through three songs when we’re pulling into a small private airport. My jaw drops as I slide out the door and stare at the plane with the name Van Doren across the side.
“Oh my. You know the Van Dorens? They’re letting you use their plane?!” I think my jaw is on the ground. I’m so shocked by the sight of the plane that I miss the fun of the dogs grabbing their bags from the trunk and trotting up the steps into the belly of said plane.
“Indeed,” Rhodes says, amused as he steps up beside me. “You remembered your passport, correct?”
I nod, almost numbly.
His hand grips my elbow gently and urges me toward the plane. I’m still in awe as I climb the stairs. It isn’t until I step inside the kind of luxury I’ve only seen in pictures that I remember my bags from the trunk.
“Already loaded,” Rhodes says and gestures to where they’re settled in an open closet with a handful of the bags that the dogs have been carrying.
God, I’m going to need to get a dog. These guys are just too damn amazing.
We sit down on the couch seating, and I continue looking around in awe until we’re in the air. Then I remember we have business to attend to. I pull out my phone to bring up my list of questions.
“Okay. Getting-to-know-you questions. Ready?”
His eyes drop to my phone. “You made a list?”
I nod. “Yes. It’ll help me remember them. Are we meeting your friends tonight?”
“In passing, but the misery begins tomorrow at breakfast.”
“You don’t want to go to this thing,” I observe.
“No.”
“Then… why are you?”
Rhodes sighs, rolling his eyes. “Peer pressure.”
I frown. Deciding to leave it at that for now—if he doesn’t want to tell me, then I’m not going to pry—I turn back to my questions. “Birthday.”
“May 9.”
“November 9,” I respond, smiling. “Love that. Favorite color.”
“Gray. Mostly dark gray, but I can get on board with light gray.”
“I like personality in colors. Bright. Orange has the most personality.”
“It also clashes with every other color.”
“Except gray,” I say, grinning.
“Ah.”
“What do you do for a living?” I ask.
“I kill bad people.”
I raise my eyes to his and stare. Did he just say…? No, I couldn’t have heard him right.
We’re interrupted when one of his dogs brings a bag over and sets it at Rhodes’ feet.
Rhodes leans forward and unzips it, holding it open for the dog to stick his big head inside.
He comes out with a bone. Rhodes zips the bag and takes the proffered bone while the dog returns his bag to the cabinet.
Then he takes the bone from Rhodes and climbs gingerly onto one of the big chairs.
The cabin is now filled with the rhythmic sound of his teeth scraping bone.
Pleasant.
“You kill people,” I repeat.
“I kill bad people,” he says. “That part is important. I want to hear you say it in your most upbeat tone with your shiniest smile, as if you’re bragging to someone about it.”
He’s serious. Is he serious about his profession, or is this part of a show for his classmates?
Our exchange over the H2H app was short and simple. This date is over the weekend while we attend his class reunion. All I needed to bring was ‘sophisticated clothing’ and my passport card so we could get into Canada. And, of course, he reiterated that I needed to like dogs.
He assured me he’d provide everything else, including condoms and lube.
Well, I have a part to play. I put on a bright smile and say in my most chipper tone, “Rhodes kills bad guys for a living. Isn’t that admirable?” I think I can pull off an adoring puppy-eyed gaze in his direction, too.
“Very good. That was pretty convincing.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him if that’s what he really does. But, again, that’s not my business. I’m here for one purpose—to be the perfect, shiny, happy date. Also orgasms. I’m excited for both.
“What do you do?”
“It’s not that exciting. I run a subscription service. Chapters by mail, two a month, with lots of little goodies in the envelope that have to do with that chapter.”
Rhodes tilts his head. “That sounds interesting.”
I grin. “It is. I have a lot of fun doing it. It’s getting a little more time-consuming for one person to maintain as the business grows, but I’m not sure I’m ready to accept someone’s help, you know? I like that this is all mine. I built it. I run it.”
“Tell me about the story.”
“I have a dozen,” I say excitedly. “My most popular is a dark hockey story, which stars the son of a rock star and a psychopathic goalie. My readers eat it up. I’m working on trying to flesh out a second dark hockey story since readers are salivating for another.”
“Are they dirty?”
“Oh, definitely dirty!”
“Huh. You’ll have to give me your website. I have a cousin who will go wild for it.”
“Sure.”
We go on and cover family, friends, hobbies, and schooling.
Then we work on our relationship story. We’re going with a modified version of the truth.
We met online through the Heart2Heart app, and we’ve been dating for a short time.
We debated the length of time far more extensively than I think is necessary for this short trip with people he’s not going to see again for another decade.
He wanted to tell them we’ve been together for ages.
I told him all the reasons that doesn’t make sense, including but not limited to, there are a shit ton of things we’re not going to know the answer to that might come up in conversation.
If he wants our ruse to be believable, we need to have a loophole as to why we don’t know something.
Dating for a short time makes the most sense in this case.
Rhodes eventually agrees, and we fall into silence. I spend a minute admiring the dogs and the plane. This is what it looks like to travel as royalty. I’m not sure I fit into that image, but it sure is fun.
“Is that the end of the interview?” Rhodes asks.
I grin. “For now. I’m sure I’ll have more questions.”
“Good. Take your clothes off.”
My eyes widen as I look at him. “What?”
“I did say that orgasms were part of this weekend. You agreed. No?”
“I—Uh, yeah. I agreed. I still agree.”
“Then take your clothes off. I want to see your body.”
I glance around the plane nervously.
“No one will bother us. We still have forty minutes until we arrive. We can go into the room if you prefer.”
“There’s a room? Like a bedroom?”
His half smile is scrumptious. “There is.”
I lick my lips. Goddamn.
“Just so it’s clear, there’s no pressure, Bennett. I’m going to be disappointed if you’ve decided orgasms are off the table, but this will be the last you hear about it, if that’s what you choose.”
Nope. Certainly not off the table. I sit up and pull my shirt over my head. As I fold it, I kick my shoes off and get to my feet. Rhodes’ eyes are on me.
The way he’s looking at me has me pausing. It’s… admiring. Examining, yes, but he’s happy. He likes what he sees. But just like him, he’s still very… austere. Not businesslike, but sophisticated. There’s appreciation in his eyes.
They meet mine when he realizes I’ve stopped moving again. “No pressure,” he reminds me.
I take his hand and hook his fingers into the front of my pants. “Nervous doesn’t mean uninterested,” I tell him.
I swear, wealthy people have a certain way they smile. It exudes confidence and somehow manages to be sexy. Of course, they have to be sexy to begin with, right? Money doesn’t make someone attractive. It makes their bank accounts coveted.
Rhodes is sexy. So that smile makes my heart race. I release his hand, and he slips his fingers under my waistband a little further until he can brush the top of my cock.
My dick is a gentleman, so it stretches out to reach for him. Maybe shake his hand. I swallow, trying not to let myself get turned on so quickly. I can’t help it. It’s been a hot minute since I’ve gotten off to someone else’s touch.
I watch as Rhodes unbuttons my jeans. The zipper sounds loud in the cabin, even over the roar of the engines. He tugs my pants down and then my underwear, exposing my very eager dick that still reaches for him.
My cheeks heat. But now, Rhodes’ quiet, calm, relaxed sexiness melts away into heat, and he licks his lips.