19
Fuck that! I want to be a super-human.—David Bowie
Pizza restaurants always smelled like school lunchrooms to Rhett for some reason.
Maybe it was because the Claiborne School District served something slathered in tomato sauce almost every day of the week.
The smell nauseated her, but it didn't really have anything to do with tomatoes or pizza.
What tied her stomach up in knots was the memory of her laughing classmates enjoying friendships and fun while she sat alone and ostracized at the end of a long table.
It wasn't until she and Elaine became friends in eighth grade that Rhett had anyone to sit with at lunch.
No wonder she tended to avoid going out for pizza.
Sitting across from Rhys in a booth at one of the busiest pizza joints in Dallas changed all that.
For the first time since she was a little girl the aroma was tempting, seductive and mouth-watering.
Okay, maybe that was just Rhys, but the pizza smelled good, too.
It sat on a dented metal pan in the middle of the table, the half with bell peppers, Italian sausage and olives on his side, the pepperoni with extra cheese facing Rhett.
There wasn't a lot left on Rhett's side, though.
She awakened from her sex-induced coma ravenous and had all but inhaled her pizza while putting away two mugs of beer.
With her stomach full, she sat back with a satisfied sigh. "That was good."
"Mm-hm." Rhys wiped a corner of his mouth with a napkin. "Are you through? We both have a slice left."
"You have it. I can't eat another bite."
"You're sure?" Rhys pulled one of the last two slices onto his plate just as his cell phone chirped at him from the table where it rested.
He picked it up, read the text that had just come in, and frowned.
"Later, mate. I don't give a shit right now.
" He put the phone face down on the table and devoted himself to the pizza.
"Who's bothering you?"
"Drew. And David and Ross and Parker. Our manager, Flynn, too, I think.
" He chewed a minute in silence, then shook his head with an exasperated sigh as the phone chirped again.
"There's going to be a car on our album cover, and he's going nuts suggesting what kind of car.
And since it's a group text, I get everyone's opinion. They're worse than any teenager."
"You're pretty good with the texts yourself." Rhett arched an eyebrow. "I enjoy the ones you send me when you're not here, even if they are all mostly dirty in some way."
He held up one finger until he swallowed. "Yours aren't exactly squeaky clean, Beautiful. In fact, they're downright filthy."
Rhett shrugged, unperturbed. "I blame you for that. You've managed to bring out a side of me I never had before."
Rhys regarded her for moment over the rim of his mug. "I think it was always there. You just needed to let it go."
After a moment to think it over, she nodded slowly. "Maybe you're right. Maybe it was always there, but I needed to be with someone who knew how to bring it out."
"That's understandable." He tossed the pizza crust on the pan and pulled the last slice onto his plate. "You've only ever been with one man, and you married him when you were young. Though I can't imagine why he never tried harder to find that part of you later."
"Well, you're only partly right." She bit the inside of her lip in indecision before she continued. "Todd isn't the only man I've slept with. I dated other guys before he and I hooked up."
To her relief, Rhys didn't seem to find that shocking, scandalous or slutty. In fact, he didn't react to it all and seemed to take it as a matter of course. "And you still didn't know you had such a ferocious sex goddess in there?"
"Sex goddess." Rhett laughed in surprise.
How different he was from the rigid, judgmental, holier-than-thou people with whom she'd grown up.
"Right. But no, we were teenagers. Be honest. When you were that age did you take the time to, er, stimulate your girlfriends like you did this afternoon with me? "
Rhys snickered. "When I was that age, no. I was too excited at having real live sex with someone other than myself."
The visual that statement conjured left Rhett speechless for a few minutes. She shook it off, so to speak, and leaned her elbows on the table. "Speaking of sex, I found one of your texts intriguing."
"Only one?" The look he sent her from under his lashes could only be described as smoldering. A delicious little shiver ran over her skin.
"Okay, all of them. But this one was...interesting. You asked me if I'd ever had sex in public."
He stopped with the pizza halfway to his mouth. "Have you?"
She titled her head with a wry look. "I just gave you a rundown on my sex life before I met you, so what do you think?"
"I'll take that as a 'no,' then."
"Very good. Have you? Had sex in public, I mean?"
A look of pure innocence transformed his face, and he pushed his plate toward her. "You're sure you don't want any more pizza?"
"I'll take that as a 'yes,' then." Rhett sat back and regarded him closely. "What would you do if I told you I wanted to fuck you right here, right now?"
In answer, Rhys slid out of the booth and came to her side. "Budge up."
In shock, she scooted across the vinyl seat and made room for him to sit beside her. He rested his arm on the back of the seat and looked at her, eyebrows raised in expectation.
Oh dear God, what was she going to do now? She hadn't been lying when she said he brought out a side of her with which she was unfamiliar. That side just got her into a situation she had no idea how to handle, and she stared back at him in utter confusion.
Rhys burst into laughter. "I'm so sorry, Rhett, but you should see your face right now."
Unamused, she stared at him as he lowered his head to the table and actually guffawed. Even when his arm dropped from the back of the seat to her shoulders, she remained stiff, arms crossed over her chest.
"Baby, I'm sorry." His embrace tightened and pulled her close, though errant snickers still shook him. "I was only laughing at the expression on your face, not at you. You looked so shocked."
Rhett relaxed against him and allowed a small smile to pull at the corners of her mouth. "Okay. I'm sure I did look shocked, because I sure felt that way."
Rhys kissed her temple and put his lips close to her ear. "You asked what I'd do, and I did it. If you want me, I'm here." He pulled back and grinned. "But just for future reference, a restaurant booth isn't an optimal place for it."
"How do you—"
He pressed a quick kiss to her lips, silencing her question.
About halfway home, Rhett had her fill of the constant pinging and vibrating of Rhys's cell phone. "Are they still yakking about the car?"
"Probably." Rhys pulled the phone from his pocket and glanced down at it as he came to a stop at a red light.
"Yeah, the bloody car. I hate to turn the phone off in case Dax or Sienna needs to reach me, and I can't remove myself from this fucking group thing, even though I asked them to take my name off. "
"You want out of it?" Rhett held out her hand. "Give me the phone."
"Be my guest." He passed it to her with alacrity.
As she took it, the phone chirped again with a message from Parker that read I'm telling you.
Ferrari! Rhett opened the message and scrolled back to the very beginning where she discovered Ross Kellum started the whole thing.
She closed the text, opened the contact list, and placed a call to Illicit's lead guitarist.
"Hey, bro." The Alabama accent rumbled down the line. "Ferrari or Lamborghini?"
"Hello, Ross," Rhett said. "I'm Rhys's friend Rhett."
Ross didn't miss a beat. "So, you're Rhett, huh? I'm a big fan of your song."
Heat rushed into her cheeks, but she couldn't repress a grin.
"Thank you. I worked hard on that song." Ignoring the twin bursts of laughter from both Rhys and Ross, she continued.
"Look, I realize this whole car thing has pushed the national news to the back page, but Rhys and I are trying to have a date here, and these constant texts are distracting. "
"Writing another verse, are you?"
"What, you want pictures or something?" Maybe it was the anonymity of the phone, or maybe it was that country-boy accent, but Rhett didn't feel like she was talking to one of the most transcendent rock guitarists in the world.
She was as comfortable speaking to him as she would to one of Mel's boyfriends.
"Baby, I would love pictures. But as territorial as Rhys acted about you when we were in Canada, I kinda think he'd have a problem with that. So what's up?"
Territorial? Rhys acted territorial about her? She cut her eyes at him and swallowed down a whoop of delight.
"What's up is asking you to please take his name off that group text, okay? Seriously, Ross, the damn phone's been pinging in my ear the whole time I've been talking to you. We can't even eat a slice of pizza, much less write any more songs with that kind of crap going on."
"There's no way I can turn down such a sweet request," Ross said. "I'll take him off, but you tell him he can't complain if we decide to go with a '59 Edsel, awright?"
Rhett laughed. "An Edsel? Really, Ross. At least go for a Tucker. 'Bye."
Not one minute after she disconnected the call, a text popped up on the screen, one composed by Ross Kellum.
I just got a call from Rhett. Yes, THAT Rhett, and boys, she's worth all the shit the censors will give us over "Auto Erotic." Say bye to Rhys, y'all. He's busy right now.
"What the hell?" Rhys asked as the phone went nuts with notifications.
"Just the rest of them telling you goodnight." Rhett laughed under her breath. "And David just asked me out."
"I warned him," Rhys said. "I'm going to kick his arse if he doesn't stop it."
A worried frown puckered her brow as she put his phone in the center console. "He's kidding, isn't he?"
"Can't really tell with David. That's the problem."
"Well, he's cute, but he's not my type." Rhett grinned when Rhys's dark expression lightened. "I go for tall, hot lead singers, you know. Oh, and by the way, did you really name that song 'Auto Erotic'?"
"Of course I did. Most of it took place right there in that back seat. And will you look at this? Here we are in the parking garage again."
"Rhys, honey? That's song's been written." Rhett glanced around as if all the building's residents might be standing there with accusing stares. "I'm still amazed we didn't get caught." A thought occurred to her, and she sat up straight. "Hey! Does that count as having sex in public?"
"No, it doesn't. In fact, it doesn't even come close." Rhys turned the car back on again and put it in gear.
Rhett's mouth went dry, and a fine shiver ran through her body. "Where are we going?"
"No idea. I'll know when I see it, though."
"After this afternoon?" She stared at him, open-mouthed. "What are you, forty-eight or twenty-eight?"
The car jolted to a stop, and he turned to face her. "Now that hurts." Despite his stern expression, there was a gleam in his eye. "I was going to start you out easy, but just for that I'm going to find a place with a maximum chance of discoverability."
"Discoverability?" Irked by the way her voice squeaked, she cleared her throat and tried again. "What do you mean by that?"
Rhys rested one arm on the steering wheel and leaned his upper body towards her. "I mean that I'm going to fuck you right into oblivion, Beautiful, and every second you'll be aware that we could be discovered at any moment."
"Oh." The muscles between her legs clenched, and she went a bit light-headed.
"And since you've inferred that I'm too old to make you lose your mind more than once a day—”
"I didn't say you were old."
Rhys continued as though she hadn't interrupted. "We're going to do it twice."
"Twice?" And she was squeaking again.
"Twice. In public." His smile was thoroughly wicked. "Then we'll see how filthy your texts get."