Chapter 9 #2
Rhys and the others didn’t appear surprised.
“I’m already pulling information on your ex,” Rhys said. “He’s got his fingers in a lot of not-exactly-legal pies.”
“Oh, God.” She sagged against the island.
Rhys squeezed her. “Don’t worry—”
“He dragged me into this.” Her voice rose.
“We don’t know that yet.”
“He tried to call me earlier.”
Rhys’ face hardened.
“I didn’t answer.” She pressed a balled hand to her throat. “I left. I’ve been gone six months! I live on the other side of the country.”
Rhys yanked her to his chest. “Calm down.”
She dropped her forehead to his chest. “My fucking ex did this. See, this is why I’ve sworn off men.”
She ignored chuckles from the others.
Rhys tugged on her hair. “We’ll see.”
* * *
Rhys woke to the smell of coconuts and smiled.
He was lying flat on his back in his bed, with Haven clamped onto him like she wasn’t planning to let go.
He glanced down. Her arm rested across his chest, one of her legs was thrown over his thigh. She was wearing another tiny set of pajamas. The very short shorts gave him a hint of ass cheek. Her hair was everywhere, her breath puffing against his chest.
Damn . He didn’t usually spend an entire night with a woman. He didn’t really like someone in his space. In the military, he’d spent many an uncomfortable night sleeping with his entire team in some pretty rough places. It made him appreciate his own space.
But he’d happily wake up with Haven McKinney wrapped around him any day.
She stirred and made a cute sound. Then her fingers stroked his chest, her lips pressing against his skin.
Shit . Was she even awake?
Then she slowly peppered kisses across his pec. Fuck . Blood filled his cock, and need throbbed hungrily through him.
“Haven,” he growled.
She froze. She looked up his chest, sleepy eyes clearing. He was happy to see that while her bruises were changing to ugly greens and yellows, they were getting better.
“We’re in the same bed,” she said.
“Yeah.”
“We weren’t,” she squeaked.
No, last night, when she’d faded, he’d put her to bed. She’d babbled about him sleeping on the couch, which he’d neither confirmed nor denied. But he was six foot three, so he sure as hell hadn’t been planning to sleep on the couch.
She pulled back, and her gaze snagged on the tattoo on his chest. An American flag. He’d gotten most of his ink after he’d left the military. A way to celebrate his service, and the change in his life. A new start and freedom.
Haven bit her lip, and his cock throbbed even harder.
“You can touch me,” he said.
She squeezed her eyes closed. “No.”
“I want you to touch me.”
She made a sound that was mostly a whimper. “I’m so weak.” Her eyes opened. “Damn you for being so hot, Rhys Norcross.”
He grinned at her and her gaze dropped to his mouth.
“What do you want, Haven?”
“It doesn’t matter what I want, life rarely gives it to me. I wanted my mom to get better, but she died from cancer.”
Rhys’ smile faded.
“I wanted a loving dad, and I got one dedicated to saving the world, instead. I wanted a man, a partner, a home. I ended up with Leo. I don’t get what I want, Rhys.” Her hand moved over his chest. “I get a taste of good things, then they’re taken away.”
He swallowed a growl. He hated that she’d suffered all of that. She deserved better, more.
He wanted to give it to her.
“What do you want, Haven, right now?”
“To be safe.”
“You feel safe right now? Right this instant?”
She hesitated, then she nodded.
“What else?”
“I want to touch you.” A whispered confession that sounded torn from her.
“So, touch. I’m not going anywhere.”
“I’m afraid.” Her eyes closed. “I told myself no men. Especially not gorgeous ones who are closely related to my boss and my best friend.”
“Touch me. Take what you want.”
She shivered. “Okay. But you can’t touch me.”
Dammit . He saw in her face that she expected him to balk.
All right, sexy Haven . Rhys raised his arms above his head and grabbed the slats on his metal headboard.
She sucked in a breath, her gaze locked on his torso. In this position, it drew the muscles in his arms, chest, and abdomen tight.
“No one should be as hot as you. It’s so unfair.”
Her gaze wandered down, over his abs to his black boxers. It lingered. Yeah, she could hardly miss his rock-hard erection.
“Haven, less looking, more touching.”
She leaned over him. “I can do both.”
She smoothed her slim hands up his chest. She found his tattoo and traced it. Then she lowered her head and licked it.
Fuck . His body bucked.
Her blue eyes looked at him. “I like having control.”
She’d had control of her life stripped away. He was happy to give her some back, even if it killed him.
She flicked at his nipple, then nibbled at it, her nails pricking the skin of his abs.
He pulled in a shuddering breath. She looked lost in a pleasurable daze. Then her fingers skimmed down once, running along his hipbone, then slid into his boxers.
Her hand circled his cock.
He growled and lifted a hand.
“No.” She stilled. “Put it back. I’m in charge.”
Shit . He grabbed the headboard again.
She freed his throbbing cock. He wanted to shove her back, thrust himself deep inside her. But he knew she wasn’t ready, and seeing her bruises and scrapes, he didn’t want to hurt her. He was fucking hungry for her. It wouldn’t be slow or gentle.
She pumped his cock. “God, even your cock is perfect.”
“Faster, Haven,” he groaned.
She gripped him harder, stroked him faster.
Oh, yeah . Rhys pumped into her fist. He had enjoyed sex in lots of different ways, and this was almost innocent in comparison to some of the stuff he’d done. But she was so focused on him, his cock, and the need inside him was white hot.
“Haven,” he growled.
“I want to watch you come. Do it, Rhys. For me.”
With another pump, he groaned her name. Her other hand slid in, cupping his balls.
He came hard, spilling all over her hand and his gut.
Hot sensation coursed through him. She watched him through hooded eyes, her chest rising and falling, pretty breasts pushing against her tank. There was fire in her eyes.
With a growl, Rhys reared up. She gasped.
He yanked her into his lap, his hands sliding straight up the wide leg of her shorts.
“Rhys!”
His hands slid under her panties, two fingers pumping inside her.
She moaned, her hips moving.
“You’re drenched,” he said.
She made a husky sound and rocked.
“Yeah, ride my hand, baby.”
She did and he gripped her hip, helping her move.
“Oh God.” Her head fell back, giving him a view of her long neck.
“That’s it.” He thumbed her clit.
“ Rhys .” She rocked harder.
“Look at me, Haven. Now.”
Her head fell forward, their gazes locked.
“Come,” he ordered.
He watched her orgasm roll over her. Her thighs trapped his hand, and she shuddered and moaned his name.
Pure beauty, right there. He earned this. Every dirty fight, every dusty hellhole, every cursed mission had brought him to this.
She collapsed against him, her face pressed to his neck.
He liked holding her limp, well-pleasured body as much as he liked pleasuring her. He stroked his hand down her back.
“We need to shower and get to work.” He needed to find the thieves and whoever the fuck was pulling their strings.
“Uh-huh,” she mumbled.
“That includes you, beautiful.”
“What?” She blinked at him.
“You’re coming with me to the Norcross office. Shower first.”
She lifted her head. “Am I showering alone?”
“Yes, otherwise I’ll spend the next few hours fucking you, and we’ll be late.”
She licked her lips and he felt it in his gut. He slapped her ass. “Move it, and I’ll go make some breakfast.”
“You can cook?”
“I can toast bread and scramble an egg.” That and grilling were about the extent of his cooking abilities, much to his mother’s dismay. Clara Norcross loved to cook, preferably hearty Italian food, but it hadn’t rubbed off on Rhys.
He gave Haven a slow kiss, and took his time. He waited until she had that dazed look on her face. It made him smile.
“Now, get moving, babe.”