Chapter 19
Sloane
It was nearly two in the morning when the four of us finally made our way back to my apartment.
Part of me was desperate for Dom and Cami to stay the night so I wouldn’t be tempted with Rhys. Another part of me was desperate for them to leave so I could make a potentially stupid decision completely powered by alcohol and the fact that I was so fucking turned on I couldn’t see straight.
Rhys’s hands and lips explored my body all night.
There wasn’t a single inch of my exposed skin that wasn’t traced by his fingers, and the more he touched me, the more I wanted to be touched by him.
Even now, sitting in the backseat of this SUV, his hand rested on my thigh, his index finger and middle finger gently stroking the skin exposed by a rip in my jeans.
It was like every nerve was exposed and sensitive, hyper-aware of where Rhys was and what he was doing.
By the time we pulled up to my building, I was struggling to take a breath that wasn’t ragged and coated with need.
Judging by the way Cami and Dom were holding onto each other and how high his grip was on her thigh, they were not staying the night.
So, Rhys and I stumbled out of the car, waving bye to our friends as they mumbled their address to the driver.
The two of us stood on the sidewalk outside of our building watching the car disappear down the street, both knowing that the second we walked through those doors, the excuses to be so close would be over.
I’d have no reason to hold him close or press my lips to his skin.
Rhys cleared his throat, his tongue darting out and wetting his lips, and my eyes tracked the movement carefully, remembering all too well the kiss we shared at the bar tonight.
“Ready?”
I swallowed, nodding my head and walking towards the entrance, almost sighing with relief when his hand landed on the small of my back as he followed me inside.
I walked the short distance to the elevator, nodding and saying hello to the overnight guard before walking inside and pressing the button for our floor.
The doors shut, trapping all of our nerves inside the elevator with us.
We both pretended to be oblivious to the tension.
I tried to distract myself, but the only thing on my mind was soothing the ache between my legs and how thankful I was for charging my vibrator before I left.
The silence remained as we stepped out of the elevator, walking a few short feet to our front door. Rhys started to reach into his pocket for the keys, but before I could stop myself, my hand darted out to grip his forearm, freezing him in place.
“Rhys,” I whispered, the low, needy tone of my own voice sounding foreign to my ears.
I had no clue what was going through his mind, but I desperately wasn’t ready for this night to end.
“Yeah,” he breathed.
I stepped between him and the door, tilting my chin to meet his eyes. My hands reached out to grip the fabric of his shirt, gently pulling his body into mine. “I wanna kiss you,” I admitted.
He dipped down, his lips grazing my ear softly as he spoke. “There’s no one watching.”
I took a shaky breath, tilting my head slightly as his lips moved to ghost over my neck. “I think that’s the point.”
Rhys let out a low chuckle as I melted into him. “Then it wouldn’t be for appearances?”
I sighed as his fingers snaked under my shirt, digging into my skin. “No, Rhys. It wouldn’t be.”
His whole body seemed to sag with relief, like that one sentence, spoken so softly, confirmed everything we’d both been so stressed about.
He pulled back, his forehead pressing against mine as he backed me into the door. His hands came up to cup my cheeks, green eyes burning into mine. “I need to kiss you, Sloane.”
I whimpered, my knees buckling at the desperation in his voice.
“Please,” I responded, throwing caution to the wind and giving myself over to the consequences that awaited. I could overthink how pathetic and needy my voice sounded later.
I wasn’t sure what was going to happen, and I knew the likelihood that one of us would come out the other end hurt was high, but I didn’t care.
Rhys and I had known each other for almost thirty years. Neither of us would intentionally hurt the other, and that reminder seemed to pacify the intrusive thoughts that were circling through my mind.
“Rhys,” I pleaded, my hands pulling harder on the fabric of his shirt. “I need you to kiss me.”
His lips brushed gently against mine, my heart fluttering in my chest. This was real. I was kissing Rhys because I wanted to, not because a camera was waiting to capture the moment.
He started slow, tentatively, testing the waters before diving in headfirst, and I appreciated how much he cared.
But my whole body ached for Rhys. I needed more.
I whimpered against his mouth, a quiet plea to give me what I so desperately craved as my hands slid underneath his shirt, my tongue swiping against his lips.
I could feel him smile, quickly gaining confidence that I wanted this just as much as he did.
His lips parted, his tongue curling against mine, heat blossoming deep in my belly. I shivered in response, moving my hands to feel the hardness of his muscles beneath my fingers.
Christ. This man was hand-carved by Michelangelo himself. There is no other explanation. Muscles like this just don’t exist in real life.
Rhys groaned, one of his hands moving down to grip the back of my thigh, lifting my leg and hooking it around his waist.
He thrust his hips forward, swallowing the gasp that left my mouth when I felt him hard against my center.
My hands moved to thread through his hair, pulling gently on the short strands to keep him close.
We both came up for air, chests heaving in sync. Rhys closed his eyes, resting his forehead against mine. “I think we should go inside.”
“Why?” I asked in a daze.
Rhys chuckled, his breath warming my lips. “Because I’ve been picturing the things I want to do to you all night and not a single one of them would be deemed appropriate for this hallway.”
My breath came out shaky as I exhaled, my nipples hardening against Rhys’s chest as his hand ran up my side, his thumb brushing against my breast.
This was it. This was the turning point in our relationship.
This was when lines blurred, walls broke, and emotions couldn’t be controlled.
I told myself it meant something that I was more excited than nervous to see where this went. That maybe it was a good sign, and statistics be damned, Rhys was right. We weren’t like those other couples.
“Yeah,” I breathed, “I think we should go inside.”
The corners of his mouth tipped up into a small smile while he separated himself from me, reaching into his pocket to retrieve his apartment key.
My heart pounded almost painfully against my ribs, the adrenaline and anticipation feeding off each other.
He shoved the door open, stepped through the threshold, and extended his hand towards me. Both of us seemed to understand that the second I followed him into our apartment, nothing would be the same.
His chest rose and fell a little quicker with each passing second, his nerves visible on his face like he was waiting for me to reject him.
I walked through the door, kicking it shut behind me, and Rhys wasted no time, instantly pulling me to his chest and crowding my space.
When did Rhys get this fucking big? Has he always been this tall?
If I was shaken up by either of the kisses we’d shared tonight, this one absolutely took my breath away. His mouth sealed over mine, the desperation burning through us evident in the way our lips moved together.
The walk to my bedroom was a blur of wet lips and hands on skin, neither of us knowing the layout of the apartment as well as we thought, based on the number of times elbows were rammed into the drywall.
Rhys pushed the door to my room open and rushed us both inside, shoving it closed before Rookie could sneak in.
My fingernails dug into his skin as I cupped his neck, drawing his lips back to mine, his fingers fumbling with the thin satin tie holding my top together.
The soft fabric slid against my skin as he loosened the knot, his fingertips trailing softly with it as it fell from my back. I released a shuddering breath, stepping closer and swiping my tongue against his.
Rhys groaned against my mouth when his hands came up to cup my breasts, his thumbs drawing circles around my hardened nipples. He pulled away, gripping the hem of his tank top, the button-up he’d worn already discarded somewhere between the door and my bedroom, and pulled it over his head.
It was like all the years I’d known him, I’d never really seen him.
Yes, I’d seen the tattoos before. I’d seen the black, swirly ink over his chest. The Roman numerals, the vines, the matching ‘brothers’ tattoo he’d gotten with Dom. I’d seen him shirtless before. But it never affected me. I’d never seen it.
The second his shirt came off, my mouth watered, and I was mesmerized by each chiseled muscle and the ink that marked it. God, I wanted to dig my teeth into his skin and mark him as my own.
I shrugged the rest of my top off and tossed it to the side, then made quick work of my jeans, leaving me in nothing but a black, lacy thong.
The moon cast a dim glow in my otherwise darkened room, giving me just enough light to see the way Rhys’s pupils dilated, his gaze reflecting nothing but pure lust as he took me in. His fist raised to his mouth, perfect white teeth biting down on his index finger. “Fuck, Sloane.”
His voice hit me right between the legs.
It’d been a minute since I’d been intimate with anything besides a vibrating inanimate object, but the way I felt right now had everything to do with Rhys.
The way his eyes drank in everything about me, the adoration and desire gave me a confidence I hadn’t felt in a long time.
With Stu, it was like I was the “lucky” one. He constantly put me down, telling me how he could have anyone he wanted, but he chose me. Like, I was only special because he gave me that feeling.