25 RHEA
He breaks away from the kiss as his eyes lock onto mine, and I can feel the heat radiating off him even from a few feet away.
“You know,” he starts, his voice low and smooth, “you’ve got this way of looking at me like you’re trying to figure out if I’m full of shit. It’s… distracting.” I smirk, trying to play it cool, but my heart’s already racing.
“Maybe I am trying to figure that out. You’re a lot of talk, Julian. I’m just waiting for you to back it up.”
He stops in front of me, his hands sliding up my thighs, and I can’t help but shiver.
“Oh, I’ll back it up, Rhea. But you’ve got to stop pretending like you’re not into this. I can see it in your eyes.”
I roll my eyes, but my breath hitches as his fingers hook into the waistband of my leggings. “Confidence isn’t your problem, is it?”
“Nope,” he says, pulling the fabric down slowly, his eyes never leaving mine.
“And neither is this.” The cool air hits my skin as he slides my leggings down past my hips, letting them pool at my feet.
My cheeks flush, but he doesn’t give me a second to overthink it.
He lifts me effortlessly and lies me back on the weight bench.
He drops to his knees in front of me, his hands gripping my hips, and I swear I can feel my heart beating out of my chest.
“You’re fucking perfect,” he murmurs, his breath hot against my skin. “And I’ve been thinking about this since the first time I saw you behind that bar.” He grabs the strings of my thong and rips them away with ease. I welcome the sting. Suddenly, I’m laid bare for him.
“Fuck Rhea,” he says with a devilish smile. “Such a pretty pussy.
I didn’t expect anything less.” He runs his finger through my core, my arousal coating them.
“Hmm, someone’s a needy little thing aren’t they? Tell me sweet girl, is it me that has you soaking wet already?” I bite my lip, trying to keep some semblance of control, but he’s already winning. “You’re such a—” My words cut off as his mouth finds me, and I gasp, my fingers tangling in his hair.
He pulls back just enough to smirk up at me. “Such a what? Go on, Rhea. Say it.” I glare at him, but it’s half-hearted. “Such a jerk,” I manage, though it comes out more like a moan than anything else.
He laughs, low and dark, before diving back in, and I’m done for.
My hips roll instinctively, and he moans against me, the sound vibrating through my entire body.
“That’s it,” he says, his voice rough now. “Stop thinking so much.
Just let me take care of you.” His tongue works me in slow, deliberate strokes, and I arch my back, my hands gripping the edge of the weight bench for dear life.
"Fuck, Julian," I pant, my voice already wrecked. "You’re?—"
"Tell me how it feels," he interrupts, his voice rough and commanding. "Tell me how my mouth feels on you."
I whimper, my hips lifting instinctively. "It’s—it’s so good. Too good. I can’t?—"
"You can," he says firmly, pulling back just enough to make me ache. "You can take it. You’re not done yet."
I groan in frustration, my fingers tangling in his hair as I try to pull him back to me. "Julian, please?—"
"Uh-uh," he scolds. "No begging. Not yet. You’re going to take what I give you, Rhea. And right now, I’m giving you every fucking thing I’ve got."
His mouth crashes back down on me, and I cry out, my thighs trembling around him. He flicks his tongue over me with a precision that drives me out of my mind, the tension coiling tighter and tighter in my stomach.
"You taste fucking incredible," he growls, the words vibrating against me. "I could do this all night. Just eat you out until you’re screaming my name."
I whimper, my grip on his hair tightening. "Fuck?—"
"That’s it," he encourages, his fingers digging into my hips. "Such a good girl."
But it’s not enough. I need more. I need him. "Julian, please," I beg, my voice breaking. "I need you. I need you to?—"
"Shh," he soothes, lifting his head just enough to meet my eyes.
"Be patient. I’ll fill you up soon enough, but first I need you to cum for me."
I groan, throwing my head back as his tongue circles me again, relentless and unforgiving. The pressure builds, my entire body trembling with it, and when he finally sucks, I shatter, his name tearing from my lips as I come undone.
"Julian!"
He doesn’t stop, drawing out every last wave of pleasure until I’m wrung out and boneless, my chest heaving as I try to catch my breath.
He pulls back, his lips glistening, and smirks up at me. "Told you you could take it."
I glare at him, but there’s no real heat behind it. "You’re such an asshole."
He laughs, low and dark, as he leans over me, his hands braced on either side of my head. "Maybe. But you sure were enjoying the treatment from said asshole."
I swallow hard, my eyes dropping to his lips. "Maybe I did."
His smile softens, and he brushes a strand of hair from my face.
"Good. Because there’s plenty more where that came from.”
The weight bench is cold against my back, and my legs are still trembling as Julian stands up, his lips curved into that infuriatingly confident smirk.
I’m about to say something—I want to say something sarcastic to wipe that look off his face, but it would probably come out more like begging him to fuck me—when his phone buzzes loudly from the pocket of his jeans.
“Damnit.” He pulls it out, glancing at the screen, and his expression shifts instantly. No more smirk, no more teasing glint in his eyes. Just tension, raw and unyielding.
“Tobi,” he answers, his voice clipped.
I can’t hear what Tobias is saying on the other end, but whatever it is, it’s not good. Julian’s jaw clenches, his free hand tightening into a fist. “Where?” he barks, already moving toward the door.
I sit up, pulling my legs toward me, suddenly aware of how exposed I am. “Julian, what’s going on?” He doesn’t answer. Instead, he’s out the door before I can even process what’s happening, leaving me alone in the room with my leggings still tangled around my ankles.
“What the hell!” I yell after him, but he’s already gone.
I glare at the empty doorway, my heart still pounding from what just happened—or, more accurately, what almost happened.
“Typical,” I mutter under my breath, yanking my leggings back up.
“You’re lucky you’re hot, Julian.” My hands are shaking as I smooth my hair back into place, trying to calm the rush of adrenaline and frustration coursing through me.
Whatever’s going on, it’s serious. Tobias doesn’t call Julian in the middle of the night for a casual chat.
I pull the door open, stepping into the hallway just in time to see Julian bolting down the stairs, two at a time. “Julian!” I call after him, but he doesn’t even glance back.
The front door slams shut behind him, and I’m left standing there, half dressed and fully annoyed. “What the actual hell,” I mutter, crossing my arms over my chest.
I lean against the doorframe, my mind racing. Should I follow him? Stay put? Pretend none of this happened? My gut tells me this isn’t the kind of thing I should ignore, but Julian’s gone, and I’m not exactly dressed for a stakeout.