Chapter 31
Rhys
Ididn’t have the luxury of sticking around all day on Flint’s set. After an hour watching Keira in all her glory, I had to retreat to the office. The rest of the day was punishing.
SCORE Yours is in full swing.
Around five in the afternoon, while Arianne, Beckett and I were meeting in his office, we received a text message from Shiloh letting us know she emailed photos and video clips from the shoot.
For the full effect, she advised a large screen to properly view the photos.
Almost in perfect synchronization, all three of us reached for our laptops.
The reaction was unanimous. I couldn’t believe my eyes.
Arianne and Beckett were as amazed. The photos and video clips of my girl singing cement an inescapable truth––the real Keira Weatherly kicks ass.
After an eventful day peppered with milestones, we’re chilling out and decompressing in the sanctuary of my home.
“More cake?” Keira grabs the knife.
“I’d love another slice.”
“I’ll have to settle for a sliver of cake instead of a second slice. As the face—and body—of SCORE Yours, I have to watch my waistline.” She pats her flat stomach.
I roll my eyes.
“I could easily eat the whole cake in one sitting,” she says.
“You can’t celebrate without the best cake in town,” I say. “Hence, why I had my housekeeper buy it for us.”
“The pink champagne cake is too good, but quite apropos for a celebration.”
“Speaking of celebration, more champagne?”
“Yes, please,” she says.
While Keira serves more dessert, I top our glasses.
My phone chimes, announcing a text message.
I grab it. “It’s Holt. Again.” I hold my phone up so Keira can see the screen.
He’s been texting and calling all day.
She laughs. “The man is relentless in his pursuit.”
“Can you blame him? He—along with millions of Angelenos—heard you sing live this afternoon.”
“It’s wild,” she says. “I swear, I was afraid I couldn’t pull it off. I guess I was riding high from singing on the set. Thanks to Flint’s request, I was able to get over my fear of singing in public again.”
“You crushed the challenge.”
She pulls her lower lip between her teeth and worries at it.
“Own it.”
“Okay, it was a slam dunk,” she says.
I lift my hand, and she gives me a high five.
“That’s my girl.”
After the photoshoot, my girl was whisked away to her first interview as the face of SCORE Yours.
It’s all part of keeping the press’s focus on something other than our relationship.
She spent ninety minutes in the hot seat with Melissa Hoover and Parker Flanagan at KLUX 92.
9 FM on their Pull Up To The Bumper afternoon ride home show.
I couldn’t tear myself away from the pressing demands of my day, so Josephine (Joey) Boswell—the PR agency’s point person—was my girl’s chaperone.
Since Joey has a reputation for never taking shit from anyone, I knew the interview wouldn’t veer into unsavory territory.
Melissa and Parker challenged my girl to their infamous Switch It Up challenge where an artist sings lyrics of a song to the music of a different song.
Contractually, Keira can no longer sing Lucky Break’s songs.
The hosts of the show accommodated her by giving her two songs she knew well—the ones that got her to the finals of the talent show that lead to her becoming a star.
The end result was fucking incredible. The challenge only lasted a minute and sixteen seconds, but it has legs.
The video clip the radio show posted online is trending big time.
The buzz around Keira Weatherly is nearing fever pitch, and that’s before the world gets to see the photos and video clips from Flint’s photoshoot, which will hit the internet tomorrow.
“After today, your career—and your life—will never be the same.”
“There’s no arguing that,” she says. “The best part of this epic day is ending it in paradise with my prince.”
We agreed to bypass a five-star restaurant. After filling our bellies with delicious food, we’re kicking back in the lounging area underneath the stars.
At night, the setting is different. Under the dark sky with lights reflecting against the shallow pool’s water and the quietude surrounding us, she’s right, this is pretty close to paradise.
The tall fence, hedgerows, and trees give us enough privacy to pretend there’s no one else in the world but us.
This is living.
“Going back to Holt.” I veer the conversation. “Are you going to get in touch with him?”
She nods. “Yes, I’ll call him tomorrow.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
“I didn’t even have to push that hard,” I say.
“You’re entering a new era in your career.
Your strong and powerful voice brought an entire room to tears…
that’s what you have to run with.” Everyone in Flint’s studio was moved after her performance…
even the flamboyant photographer. “It’s a question of finding the right recording company who’s willing to nurture the real you. ”
“You’re right. Thanks for being so patient with me,” she says in a low voice. “I can be a train wreck sometimes and I don’t always think before talking, but you always seem to take it in your stride. Most times, anyway.”
“It’s because I’ve known you since you were in diapers.”
“FYI, that’s so not sexy,” she says. “It makes you sound like you’re robbing the cradle, old man.”
“Old man?”
Before she can blink, I’m on her.
She squeals.
Without giving her time to breathe, I claim her mouth, pushing her lips apart and finding her tongue. She melts into the kiss and I deepen our embrace, devouring her mouth with unrestrained passion. With each revolution of our dancing tongues, her nipples grow taut against my bare chest.
I’m so fucking hard.
I place a hand on her thigh, sliding it higher under her sun dress.
She moans.
“What happened to your bikini bottom?”
“I removed it earlier when I went inside to grab the cake.” She cocks an eyebrow. “I also ditched the top.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Why do you think?” she lifts her hips up, brushing against my erection.
I pull my hand away. “That’s a little presumptuous, don’t you think?”
A mischievous spark lights up her eyes. “No, I don’t think so. I’m simply sending a clear message.”
“And what would that be?” I play along.
Heavy-lidded eyes slide to my lips. “I want you.”
“You’re lucky.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because I want you too.”
“Lucky me.”
“You have no idea how lucky you’re about to be.”
“Are we talking about your cock inside my pussy?”
“You’re excited, little girl.”
“Since we had to keep it PG for the last five days, my boyfriend has some catching up to do.”
I humor her. “Do you have any suggestions?”
“You’re a creative guy. I’ll leave it in your capable hands. Surprise me.”
Such effrontery.
She’s going to pay for that.
“Strip for me.”
“Out here?” Her voice goes up several octaves.
“You told me to surprise you.”
“I don’t want to end up in jail for public indecency.”
“You won’t,” I say. “There’s a reason I had the lounging pool built on this side of the property. Not to mention, the sheer size of the properties in this area ensures my neighbors can’t get too nosey, even if they wanted to. It’s unlikely anyone will catch us.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
I wave a finger, instructing her.
She’s thinking so hard I can see the wheels churning in her head.
“I guess I’m off to bed.” I pretend to get up.
“Okay.”
She pulls the short yellow summer dress over her head and tosses it aside.
“Lie down on the couch, place your feet flat on it, and spread those gorgeous legs so I can catch a glimpse of your sweet pussy.”
She assumes the position.
What a view.
I’m rock hard and desperate to sink into her, but I rein in the urge.
Patience.
I grab the bottle of champagne by the neck.
She arches a brow. “You’re thirsty?”
“This is going to be a wet ride.”
“I don’t get it.” The vulnerability in her eyes stiffens my cock.
I pour a generous amount of champagne from her bellybutton to the top of her pussy, allowing the effervescent liquid to trickle between her lips.
She gasps. “It’s so cold.”
My lips curve into the faintest of smiles. “Not for long.”
My eyes lower to the mess I just made. I lean forward, too eager to clean it up. I stick out my tongue and follow the trail of cold champagne to where it pools in her bellybutton. I lap greedily.
“That feels so good,” she says.
I glide a finger between her pussy lips before pulling it out and slipping it into my mouth. The combination of her sweet juices and the effervescent nectar hit my tongue with full force.
Goddammit, I missed her taste.
I bring the bottle of champagne over her body again. This time, I’m heavy handed, and I pour a copious amount on her body so the liquid gushes all over her pussy.
With a helpless cry, she sits up.
“Back down.”
“Don’t tease me like this,” she says.
“I said, back down.”
Her hands curl up in fists at her side.
I cock an eyebrow.
Resignation colors her eyes and like a good little girl she lowers her back to the couch.
“It’s been five days since I fucked you, but I doubt that’s enough time for you to forget how things work between us, Keira. You take what I give you, when I give it to you.”
She lifts her head and glares at me.
I tilt my head to the side.
She gives up and rests her head back down.
“Now I have to start over.” I shower her body with more champagne.
Other than a sharp inhale and a shiver, she doesn’t move.
“It’s better when you don’t fight me.” My eyes drop between her parted legs. “I’m salivating at the thought of wrapping my lips around your tight little clit.”
“Please, please, please, please, Rhys.”
“Here’s the deal. You keep your eyes on me the whole time. Are we clear?”
“Anything you want.”
I bend down and sip the champagne coating her pussy hair. She lifts her hips off the couch at the first contact of my tongue against her pussy.
I take it away from her.
She lets out a frustrated grunt.
“This will be a lot more enjoyable if you follow my rules,” I say. “Hips down.”
She obeys.
I resume my mission.
I give her a one long, slow, languorous lick. She rewards the first stroke of my tongue by closing her thighs around my head and pressing hard.
Hell yeah.
Her fingers wind in my hair, her hips thrusting towards my seeking mouth.
That serves as rocket fuel to my arousal.
My balls tighten inside my swim trunks. They’re heavy with cum, too eager to shoot their load.
Nothing supersedes her pleasure.
The next stroke has her yelping as she pulls my hair. The sharp pain isn’t enough to prevent a smile of satisfaction.
That’s it, baby.
“Rhys…” She lets out a sharp exhale. “God, I’ve missed your mouth…”
My gaze meets hers. Her heavy-lidded eyes are full of carnal desire. No doubt a mirror of mine.
Fuck, I love it when we lock eyes when I’m eating her out.
Unrushed, I squeeze her thighs as I administer another series of long licks.
She purrs like a kitten.
My tongue finds her engorged clit. I suck it with avarice, making up for the days I had to go without. I alternate between toying with it and massaging it with my lips.
“Dear God,” she says, panting, writhing underneath me.
I reach up and cup her breast. The sight of her stiff nipple poking through my fingers sends fire to my balls.
As my mouth works her pussy, I play with her nipples, rolling the peaks between my finger and thumb before squeezing tight. I pinch her nipples with such force, she arches her back, moaning, and gripping the back of my head, suffocating me.
“Please, fuck my pussy,” she says.
I grant her wish.
I tongue-fuck her with as much ardor as I would with my cock.
Her closed fist bangs against the couch. “Fuck me good.”
I shift my attention away from her long enough to locate the champagne bottle. I grab it, pull away from her and tip more champagne over her trembling body before bringing my lips back to her drenched pussy.
Drunk with desire, I double my efforts.
She wiggles and squirms underneath me.
No, dimples.
I tighten my unyielding grip as my voracious tongue circles her clit.
She hooks a leg over my shoulder, pushing her pussy against my mouth, demanding more.
Good girl.
I show her no mercy.
I flatten my tongue and glide it from her clit to her hole and back, heightening her arousal with each stroke.
I do it again.
And again.
“That’s it. Don’t stop. I’m close. I’m so fucking close,” she says.
I push her limits.
I use my whole mouth on her pussy.
I lick her clit, making as much noise as possible.
Her body trembles.
I place both hands underneath her ass, tilting her hips up. I close my lips over her engorged clit, trapping all the blood there, leaving her no choice but to come.
My eyes are on hers.
“Oh, yes. God, yes.” She thrusts, fucking my face wild and frantic.
She’s on the verge of losing it.
Her cries shoot sparks through my bloodstream. I’m holding on by a thread.
After five days of jerking off, I have no idea how I manage to keep it together and not shoot my load.
I press my lips together, putting more pressure against her swollen clit and taking away her last shred of control.
My sweet little slut fucks my face with more determination. With every thrust of her hips, she moans louder and louder until she shudders over my tongue.
Fuck, that’s so damn hot.
The orgasm is so strong, she bucks, lifting me up with her. “Oh God, Rhys—”
Jesus.
I clamp a hand over her mouth to muffle her climactic cries.
My cock is dripping, the desperate need to sink into her wetness is so overwhelming, it scares the hell out of me.