Rhys continued to frown. “I don’t want you choosing me and Dean over your job. You’ve worked your ass off for that job. It’s important to you.”
“You’re important to me too, Rhys.”
Quite abruptly, Rhys wrapped his hand around my nape and hauled me up his body for a hard kiss. I whimpered in surprise, and he lifted his head briefly to growl, “You really have no idea, do you, Tink?”
Before I could respond, he lifted me back up into his arms and kissed me with a breath-stealing desperation. His mouth never left mine as he tried to walk us out of there. We bumped into a wall, or two—our laughter and groans, his grunts and my moans, filled the corridor as he took us to the elevator that led to his loft.
Once those doors closed, he started grinding into me, kissing me until I could barely breathe with the anticipation. My whole body was on fire.
“You wet?” He kissed my neck below my ear.
“You know it,” I gasped, clutching at him as he thrust against me again. “Rhys!”
“You want me to fuck you, you gotta say it, Tinker Bell.”
Trembling with need, I turned my head and whispered in his ear, “I want you to fuck me, Rhys.”
He shuddered beneath my hands and just as soon as those doors opened, Rhys stumbled into the loft and set me down on the nearest bit of furniture—his dining room table.
His beautiful green eyes blazed with desire as he slid his hands up my dress to pull my underwear down my legs. I leaned back on my hands, my inner thighs trembling as I watched him hurriedly take a condom out of his wallet, undo his jeans, and push them and his boxer briefs down just enough to free himself.
Once the condom was on, Rhys grabbed my hips and pulled me to the edge of the table so I could wrap my legs around his waist. Without further ado, he drove inside me with a deep-seated groan of satisfaction. Holding onto his left shoulder with one hand and the tabletop with the other, I braced against his vigorous thrusts, gasping as the tension he’d built in me just by grinding in the elevator grew to the breaking point.
I loved when he was tender … but my goodness, I loved when he lost a little of that control and took me like he’d die if he didn’t.
Knowing me already, understanding what I needed, Rhys reached between my legs and rolled his thumb over my clit.
The intense tension broke, my cry of pleasure filling the loft as Rhys pounded into me, wave after wave of my voluptuous orgasm driving him closer to his. Finally, he tensed, his face taut, his fingers biting on my outer thighs. And then his hips jerked uncontrollably as his hoarse cry of release joined the echoes of my own.
He slumped, still flexing slowly in and out of me as he rested his forehead on my shoulder.
Holding Rhys to me, I slid my arms around his back, caressing him over his shirt and wishing we were naked. He turned his head and nuzzled my neck, making my legs instinctively tighten around his waist.
“You know,” I said, my voice soft, quiet, “there are some people who believe an athlete should abstain from sex. That the frustration boosts aggression and energy for a game or a fight.”
Rhys lifted his head, his expression relaxed except for his eyes. “Where you going with this, Tink?”
“I just wanted to confirm that I’m not interfering with your training.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You know what my answer to that is?”
I shook my head.
Rhys gripped my waist and pulled out of me. I immediately wanted him back. “We’re going to clean up. You first, then me. By the time I get out of the bathroom, you’re going to be naked on my bed waiting for my mouth. Then you’re going to give me your mouth because I’ve been dreaming about it wrapped around my cock since we first met. And you’re not leaving my bed until both of us are fucking exhausted from coming our brains out.”
Renewed heat shot straight to my core. “That is a very, very good answer.”
He grinned, and then I squealed in delight as he hauled me off the table and carried me to his bathroom.
Then we spent the rest of the afternoon coming our brains out.
And it was spectacular.
Until afterward, as I lay sated and sweaty in his bed, my legs tangled with his. I reached for him, caressing the backs of my fingers down his chest that was now damp with perspiration. “We need to come up with a game plan for Fairchild.”
Rhys’s sigh was one of pure exasperation. “I don’t want to talk about him when we’re in bed. It’s almost enough to turn me off for the rest of the day.”