Watch Me (Phoenix 1)

That’s what caught him up too. Things between them were too easy. Too real. Too right. “I never expected this either. Never expected I would want you to stay.”

She gave a lopsided smile. “And yet here we are.”

He smiled gently, not wanting to put his own wants on her. “But this also isn’t goodbye either, just like I’m sure it’s not goodbye with Hazel and Elise. You can visit, can you not?”

“Yes, I can visit.”

But it won’t be enough echoed in the space between them.

She added, “And you can come see me, too.”

“Easily done,” he agreed. But I’ll never want to leave.

Every word he spoke felt odd coming from his mouth. He wanted her here. With him. To see every day. To kiss. To make love to. To laugh with. To explore. To enjoy. Anything else felt…wrong.

She tipped her head back, hitting him with those warm, affectionate eyes. Their gazes held for a beat. “I won’t ever forget what you did for me, Rhys.”

He gathered her in his arms and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, feeling like the moment she left him tonight, she’d take his heart with her. And with that realization, Rhys knew Archer was right. No ma

tter what, Rhys had to fight for her. “I will never forget you either, Zoey.”

Desperate to hold onto her for as long as he could, he dropped his mouth to hers. Her lips molded to his in a gentle kiss, but when he angled her head and deepened his embrace, he knew everything had changed. That he had changed, and she was the reason for it.

Needing to get closer to her, he gathered her in his arms and brought her inside, into his bedroom, laying her out on his king-size bed. He knew they weren’t done. Not even close. He knew that, even if she walked away, he’d chase her. And with a slight amusement, he understood what he should have known all along: he still wasn’t done breaking rules for Zoey.

He hovered over her, the lights from the skyscrapers outside his window casting a warm glow across her face. She leaned her head up, offering herself and fisting her hands on his shirt. “Don’t wait.”

The same urgency rushed through him as he hurried to get her naked. Between the hot kisses, he removed his shirt and she had his pants down and was yanking him forward with her hands caressing his ass. He went willingly, lifting her legs up underneath his arms as he slid deep inside her. He groaned, resting his forehead against hers. She was tight, wet, and he wanted to stay there forever. “How are you so fucking perfect, Zoey?”

“Rhys,” she said, her voice nearly begging.

He lifted his head, met the desire burning in her eyes, and began moving slowly, letting her feel every single inch of him. There was no show tonight. No star. No one else watching. Only her and him, and yet this was the most intimate, addictive sex he’d ever had.

Every brush of her lips against his, the way she hugged him, he couldn’t possibly get enough. Her breasts were soft beneath his chest, her moans the only sound registering. She smelled like vanilla and ripe woman, and he was certain the scent was handmade for him. He leaned against her legs, lifting her bottom higher, and thrust his hips, burying himself deep without any barrier between them. Her soul shone through her eyes, and his reached out, encasing her entirely, and he knew he had one final rule to break. He wanted breakfast in the mornings. He wanted her soft curves next to him when he went to sleep. He wanted this. Always. Just them. He wanted to hear her laugh. He needed her arms around him on tough days. He wanted to hear more of her stories and understand the way her heart worked.

Passion drove him to thrust harder, faster, until she moved with him and they set a rhythm that blended their moans. Skin slapped against skin as he filled her, took all of what she offered him, and he still wanted more. Her nails dug into his back as her feet locked on his thighs, her drenched sex constructing with every thrust.

Tighter…tighter…wetter… And when her screams of ecstasy washed over him, he went nearly cross-eyed at the pleasure her body gave him. He thrust forward, coming with a roar and emptying himself inside her. He knew nothing from this night on would ever be the same again.

And that’s exactly how he wanted it.

Chapter 14

Nine days had passed since Zoey moved back to Sacramento. Each day felt longer than the last. She had turned on autopilot the moment she got on the plane to come home. She’d only brought a few suitcases and still hadn’t arranged for a moving company to bring her boxes home. Slow. That’s how she’d been taking all this. One step then another until her head wasn’t so cloudy and making decisions was easier. Knowing it wasn’t going to happen tonight, she grabbed the bowl of popcorn off her parents’ kitchen counter and headed for the living room.

Her childhood house was a gorgeous two-story Victorian on the corner of Meadow Lane. Her parents had bought the property when Zoey was only two years old, and they’d spent Zoey’s entire life renovating it from top to bottom. Zoey’s favorite part of the house was the living room with the old stone fireplace and big bay window, where her mother always put up the Christmas tree. Only this time, as she entered the living room and found her dad sitting in his usual recliner, something felt off. Wrong. She kept thinking that, after she moved home, she’d feel more settled. But that lump in her throat was baseball-size now, and she could no longer swallow it away. She felt tired and edgy, not sleeping much, missing Hazel and Elise…missing Rhys and the new life she’d discovered with him.

Trying not to drown in her confusion, she tossed a piece of popcorn into her mouth. “Whatcha watching tonight?”

“Unsolved Mysteries,” her dad said, flashing her a smile. Though, at the moment, a news story was on.

He’d always been a handsome man. Fit and healthy, her father looked closer to forty than his actual age of fifty. He had blond hair that barely showed his grays, and light-blue eyes that always lit up when her mother came around.

And they presently glistened as her mom entered the room, carrying a big bag of salt and vinegar chips; her dad’s favorite. “Don’t eat the whole bag,” she mused.

Her dad just smiled. “Thank you, honey.” He promptly dove into his chips, his attention turned back to the television.

Her mom shook her head at him and sent Zoey a soft, sweet smile as she sat on the couch. She had a short bob, the same strawberry-blond color as Zoey’s. But her mother’s eyes were brown. Zoey got the hazel from her grandmother. “Find yourself a guy who is this easy to make happy.” Whatever crossed Zoey’s face, warmed her mother’s smile. “Was Rhys like that?”