“Oh, really?” I breathe, suddenly hot and bothered, despite the chill coming in off the lake. “And how would you do that?”
“Hmm…” Rhys’s hum vibrates through me, the sound slithering down my ear to skate across my nerves. He unlocks his hands from where they’re entwined near my collarbone to glide over my breasts, teasing my nipples through my red T-shirt. “I think I can find a few interesting ways to hold your attention. In fact…” He lifts the bottom hem of the shirt, trailing his fingers along my abdomen. “I’ve thought of nothing else since you defeated your nemesis.”
Defeated my nemesis?
Wow, that’s one way of viewing this afternoon’s…event. Not howI’dregard it, but okay, sure. Let’s go with it if it keeps Rhys’s hand on my body. “You helped,” I remind Rhys because I must give credit where it’s due.
He kisses my temple. My ear. My throat. He rearranges how he’s holding me, moving his arm to slide his hand lower. Parting my thighs, I suck in a breath when he shoves aside my shorts and panties to slide the tip of his finger up and down my slit. A slow tease that has me lifting my ass, chasing his fingertip. “It was my pleasure, Charlotte.”
How he purrs my name… It’s the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard in my entire life. I lay my head back on his chest, a moan whispering from me as I reach between my legs to press his hand harder against me, needing more. More of his touch. Of the delicious friction. More ofhim. “Please,” I rasp, my plea floating away on the breeze.
“Please, what, Charlotte? What do you want?”
To freeze time.
To stay exactly like this, with you, forever.
What comes out of my mouth is something else, something cowardly. A broken and desperate, “You.”
“You have me.” The ‘for tonight’ hangs unspoken between us, even when he presses the pad of his finger over my clit but doesn’t move it. Simply holds it still, a light pressure, until I’m damn near about to scream with frustration. “I want the words, sweetheart, or this is all you get.”
“You’re fucking evil,” I grind out.
“That I am.” Rhys grabs me by the wrist and pulls my hand away, pinning it to the blanket. I slap my other hand over his. “Move it or I’ll stop.” His breath tickles my ear when he adds, “Your words, Charlotte, use them.”
Embarrassed, I lick my lips, mustering a whole heap of courage. “Please, Rhys, put your fingers inside me.”
The second the demand leaves my mouth, those long, thick fingers fill me. They’re a slow slide in and out that brings me to a fever pitch. “Like this, Charlotte?”
I nod. “Yes,” I say breathlessly. “Just like that.” He keeps up the pace, finger-fucking me as the first rocket explodes in the sky, lighting the night in a riot of red and gold. “More. Faster.”
Rhys does as I ask, driving in harder, deeper, quicker. Still, it’s not enough, and as the sky glows in a rainbow of sparks, I pull his hand away. I turn and pop up onto my knees. Then glance around to make certain we’re alone. Of course we are. Gram’s house sits on a quiet stretch of the lake. No one comes out here, especially tonight when most folks are at Town Square.
My fingers fumble as I unzip Rhys’s jeans. I’m all thumbs as I shimmy them down his legs and pull out his heavy cock. I stroke him from base to tip, tugging on the barbell, pulling the most delectable moans from him as fireworks explode overhead. And when he removes my clothes and settles between my legs, sliding into me with a single punch of his hips, I gasp, having him inside a perfectfitas the stunning light show above us fades to black.
I hold Rhys tight, holding on to him with both hands. I whisper incoherent wishes. Broken pleas. I’m begging for things I have no business wanting, with the fragmented remains of the wall I built to protect my heart at Rhys’s feet.
And in his hands is my heart, raw and aching and bleeding.
Chapter Twenty
“Stay,” I whisper. “Please.”
Rhys releases a slow sigh as he strokes my back. “Can we not do this, Charlotte?”
“Why not?” We’re in bed, spending our last moments in each other’s arms.
The clock is ticking toward midnight.
I’m scared—terrified, actually. It’s almost as if time is a weight pulling us beneath violent waves in a turbulent sea.
“Close your eyes and try to go to sleep. It’ll be better for both of us that way.”
“No.” I sit up, dragging the blanket with me to cover my bare breasts. “I wantyou to stay.”
For once, Rhys’s smile isn’t arrogant or wicked. It’s achingly sad. “I can’t.”
“Why not?” I demand again.
