Chapter Twenty-Seven
They were wheels down in the middle of the night.
The private airport made quick work of processing them, and before dawn could peek at them with its rose-and-purple welcome, Rhys had settled Jules into bed.
It wasn’t a safe house, just a small house close to their headquarters, not too far from the center of Granite Creek.
She slept upstairs. He posted on the couch, unable to sleep, unable to leave. Unsure what to do next.
The stairs creaked. Her quiet footsteps padded closer, and his heart thudded harder, reminding him that he was fucked. The things he wanted to do to that woman might scare her back up the stairs. But an agreement was an agreement, and their vacation was over.
Too bad he hadn’t realized how in deep he was. Or maybe he had and just thought there was more time to get a handle on it before real life called.
“I can’t sleep.”
“You’ve been up there for hours.”
She leaned against the wall. “Not sleeping.”
He’d been telling himself this was manageable, but sitting here in the dark, unable to sleep, unable to make himself leave her alone, he’d run out of ways to believe that.
She wore a tiny cami and baggy pajama pants, looking soft and touchable in the barely lit living room. “Can I sit with you?”
He nodded to the spot next to him on the couch.
She moved in front of him instead, and he tipped his head back and caught her emerald eyes. Hell. Lust punched into his throat. Rhys hooked his hands around the back of her thighs and pulled her onto his lap.
Their mouths crashed together. Peppermint kisses and soft lips scattered his thoughts, making him stupid.
His hands dived into her hair, angling her head just right.
Her moan vibrated into their kiss. The wicked tremors ripped through him, rushing straight to his cock.
She rubbed against him, flexing her hips. He couldn’t get enough.
His tongue worked down her neck, stopping only for him to tear her shirt over her head, and he threw himself into worshipping the peaked tips of her glorious breasts. God, this was what he needed: her writhing against his cock, her tits on his tongue, her slender fingers tugging his hair.
“We’re not on vacation,” she managed.
Did it look like he cared? The way she rubbed against him, he didn’t think she cared either. He palmed one breast, flicking her nipple with his thumb, as he lapped his tongue over the tight bead of the other.
“Rhys.” Her head dropped back, her back arching for more, as though the warm, wet heat of his tongue raking over her nipple might make her come.
He alternated breasts, devouring her, letting her ride against him. She pulled his shirt over his head then dug her fingernails into his muscles, begging for more. Begging for him.
He kissed her neck. “Going to let me have you?”
She tilted her head, pulling her hair away, as she nodded. “Please.”
Flipping her onto her back, he ripped her pants down her legs. Rhys buried his face between her legs. She dripped for him, and he loved it—arousing her, tasting her, bringing her to climax when she rode his face. All of it. It was what he needed.
It didn’t take long for her pussy to quake. The sensitive flesh pulsed and trembled, all while she ripped her fingers through his hair.
Rhys left her long enough to get a condom then unzipped his pants as he returned.
Was he really going to take her on the couch?
The hungry flare in her green eyes killed his split second of hesitation.
He sheathed himself then lifted her into his arms, pulling her to straddle his thighs as he sat down. “I need to be inside you.”
She nodded, tugging her bottom lip between her teeth. Wild hunger was painted over her cheeks.
Jules rose onto her knees and centered the thick head of his erection against the wet heat he desperately needed.
She pressed against him, taking his cock inch by inch.
Her breathing shook as he filled her. His hands clamped on her hips, controlling the all-consuming need for her to take all of him.
“Baby,” he groaned against her neck.
Rhys squeezed her hips then slid his hands to the round globes of her ass, flexing his fingers. This woman was everything he wanted. The way she kissed, the way she tasted. He didn’t need them to finish to be obsessed with the way she fucked.
Her eyes opened and found his. They were full of fire and passion. Rhys was so done for.
He’d caught feelings for her, but that was a problem for another day. The only thing he knew for certain was that Jules was his.
He flexed up, and her eyes rolled shut. His lips twitched with the absolute pleasure of making her react. “You’re all mine.”
Moaning for him, she promised, “Yours.”
Then he fucked her. He moved her body, moving her up and down his cock like she was on the dirtiest carousel ride of her life.
She didn’t have to work. He did everything, using his hands, his strength, and his dick.
And the tighter her pussy clenched, the deeper, the harder he moved her, until she quaked on his shaft, spasming and coming and calling his name.
As he lifted her up and laid her down, their breaths shuddered.
Yours.
Rhys saw her promise in her eyes. He heard it when she cried his name.
They had complications, so many challenges to figure out. But at least he knew the endgame. She was his, that simple.
Slowing them down, he licked the seam of her lips. Her soft kiss melted his mind. Their tongues touched and danced. He’d do whatever she needed, in every part of her life. Making her feel good might be the sole focus of his damn life.
“I didn’t know it could be like this,” she whispered.
His chest squeezed. Rhys searched her face, memorizing the vulnerable truth hiding in her pretty gaze, and cupped her cheek. “Super-Bowl-champ, Kilimanjaro-level good.”
The corners of her lips curved into the sweetest smile. “You’re right.”
He inched from her body and flexed in again. Taking his time, building her up, climbing that mountain until he earned her release again, Rhys thrust and fucked.
He drank in the sounds falling from her parted lips and the breathy gasps that mirrored his. He drove deeper and harder and faster until her nails dug into his back, making crisscrossed lines deep across his skin.
She was so close again. That delicious, familiar way she tightened now wrapped around his cock, gripping him, violently pulling him toward the satisfaction he couldn’t live without.
He cried out as she bucked, her hips jerking to his.
Brilliant white lightning exploded and ripped through his veins as her legs clamped around him. Their orgasms slammed simultaneously, spiking Rhys into another universe.
If he was honest with himself, he knew the gig was up. He had fallen for her.