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“Don’t leave. You don’t want to, so don’t.” His breath tickled my ear. The smell of him mingled with the sex we’d had was intoxicating.
“If I stay, then everything changes, right?” He moved my hair away from my neck and placed a soft kiss on the back of it.
“Don’t you want to find out?”
My chest squeezed at the thought and I turned to him, kissing him sweetly before I left him at his door. I fumbled with my keys, not looking to see if he was watching me, and got into my car. I braved a look at his entrance, but he wasn’t there. I laid my forehead against my steering wheel, not wanting to leave, but knowing if I stayed it meant we would start something I wasn’t sure I was ready for. I was barely a few weeks into my year of being sexually free. On the other hand, the man was beautiful, smart, intuitive, well endowed, and seemed successful. Oh, and he was a fucking stallion in bed who had blown my mind with his impressive skills with his hands, dick, and tongue for the last two weeks. What the hell was I thinking?
I dashed for his door, taking the four million steps quickly and twisted the handle. Locked. Okay, so it wouldn’t be the grand entrance I pictured in my head. I knocked on the door and got no answer. I knocked again and waited. Nothing. What the hell? I had been in the car less than five minutes. I didn’t see a car leave. I knocked again, this time more of a bang, and got nothing. Completely confused, I ran down his steps to the driveway and saw his sedan parked next to the house. I ran back up to his door and knocked again. When he didn’t answer, I became furious and kicked a potted plant down his steps. He picked that exact moment to open the door and stood watching me curse as my toe pulsed with my heartbeat. He crossed his arms, soaking wet with a towel wrapped around him.
Ah, he was in the shower. You should probably find a rock to go crawl under, Violet.
He stood there dripping on his beautiful antique floor, torturing me, his half-baked smile on the verge of hysterical laughter. I quickly started talking.
“I’m definitely not as subtle as I used to be.” I nudged over my shoulder at the plant that I had just massacred. “I have a bit of a temper. I’ve horrible allergies and I look disgusting when I have an attack, like disgusting.” I circled an opened hand over my face for emphasis. “I have good things going for me too. I hate raisins, but I love wine. As a matter of fact, I can pair wine and food like no one’s business, I give a mean massage, I know the location of all the prime and potentially lucrative real estate in Savannah, and I can hold a ben wa ball in my vagina for at least ten minutes.”
“Five,” he replied with a chuckle.
“THAT WAS FIVE MINUTES!” I said, disgusted. “Fine, I’ll make it ten by Christmas. I love a challenge.” I stood there with my pride hanging in the air as he watched me carefully. “God, why couldn’t you have just left the door unlocked?” I threw up my hands. “Now you’ve seen my crazy.”
He looked gorgeous freshly wet and still dripping. I wanted back in that house
bad. “Yes. I want to see where this can go, Rhys.”
He dropped his towel and tugged me inside by both hands, shutting the door and placing my back on it. And then he kissed me, really kissed me. I melted into his arms as his tongue gently stroked mine, my moan this time sounded like a sigh. I opened myself to him, letting him strip me bare. He clasped our hands as he led me upstairs. I took a quick look around his spacious bedroom as he led me to his adjoining master bath. He turned the faucet on the tub and plugged it, adding some bath salt. I raised my brow.
“What? It’s cucumber, and I like the smell.”
I burst out laughing and he swatted my ass playfully. He tested the water, letting it run as he pulled a towel from the cabinet, placing it on his sink. The bath was a beautiful, old-fashioned, claw foot tub and I couldn’t wait to get in it. He pulled me to him and kissed me again like he meant it, leaving me breathless and aching for him.
“Take a bath and I’ll start dinner. Chicken fettuccine okay? I’m pretty sure there are no raisins in it.” He winked and I nodded, my cheeks heating slightly. He kissed me again sweetly and let me go. I stuck both feet in, wincing as my sore toe hit the water. Rhys turned to me as an afterthought as he was walking out the door. “I’m glad you said yes.”
I smiled at him and replied, “Me too.”
God, how naïve was I to have thought all people into kink were subhuman? Rhys seemed to be a really good man. I looked around his subtle but tastefully decorated bathroom and thought now this is a man who might appreciate decorations on the holidays. His house was a home, even if he was the only one who occupied it. It seemed warm and inviting and I felt right at home in his claw foot tub, sudsing my body and enjoying his hospitality...and his cucumber bath salt. I giggled again, taking a look at the brand he liked, burning it into my brain. I was sure it would come in handy later, either as ammo or a present. God, was I already planning to prank him in the future? The truth was, I hoped so.
Downstairs, dressed and freshly cucumbered, I found a drop dead gorgeous man tooling around in his kitchen with ease. He wore a fresh pair of sweats and had pots going heavy on the stove. I was saddened at the loss of his bare chest now covered by a white -shirt.
“Anything I can do to help?” I piped behind him.
“No, just sit there at the bar. I poured you a glass of wine.” I took a seat at his bar and sipped the wine. It was amazing.
“Okay, straight up,” I said, snapping my fingers, “if you can’t be this amazing in a year, don’t you dare do it now.” I saw his cheeks puff, his back still turned to me as he stirred the pot of noodles. He set the spoon down and walked over to the bar.
“Well, I can be a real prick too, but I figured I’d start you out easy.” He snatched my wine glass out of my hand as I protested with a quick, “Heeeeyyyy.” He drank a big gulp, leaving me with a sip left and I crossed my arms. “I’ll shut up now.”
He pulled the bottle out of a cabinet, poured me more, and then turned to his task at hand.
“So, I love your house. When did you get it?”
“Thanks,” he answered, draining the pasta. “I moved in about three years ago.”
“And you decorated this place yourself?” Okay, what the hell with the loaded question, Vi? Easy.
“No, I had help,” he said, shooting a careful glance my way.
“And that’s my prying quota for the day,” I said, taking a nice gulp of wine.
“I highly doubt that, Violet,” he said with a grin, mixing the pasta and gesturing for me to sit at his kitchen table.
