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“The offer still stands,” he repeats, with a wide grin. “If you ever want me to fuck your brains out, just let me know.”
A smile spreads across my face, which is starting to burn again, now for an altogether different reason. “Do you think you could give me a ride home?” I faux-casually change the subject. “Usually I would just call an Uber, but I’m guessing my phone is dead since I didn’t charge it all night.”
“Of course.” He nods as he stands up from the mattress. “Just give me a minute to put on some actual clothes. Unless you like this look better?”
“I…” My brain stalls out as I glance over at him again, my fingers itching to trail up and down his tattoos, my lips yearning to place small kisses all down that muscled torso.
“Just kidding.” Rhys smirks.
And I force myself to look away from his frame, inappropriate thoughts trickling up from every corner of my mind.
* * *
It’sa quiet ride back to my apartment, with the majority of my time spent staring out the passenger window of Rhys’s perfectly preserved old 1980’s Honda coupe. The car fits his personality, just as loud in both engine and in terms of outward presence and style, with a surprisingly muted inner reality, the dark gray tones of the inside of the vehicle so opposite to its red exterior. The bumpy ride is not helping as I stare over at his jeans-clad thighs.
Rhys’s focus seems to be solely on the road, especially since he hasn’t said a word to me ever since we got into the car. I’m grateful for the silence though, unsure of what I might do with any attempts to strike up a conversation with my brain this scrambled. Despite my best efforts, I can’t deny that I’m getting wetter for the man with each passing second, desire for him rattling around in my head even as I attempt to push it all away.
I told you I wanted to fuck your brains out.
The offer still stands, Alyssa.
Is this how it’s going to be in rehearsal from now on? All my attention going to Rhys, my every other thought wondering what it might be like to have him touch me, to have him taste me? I frown at the thought, knowing that if I’m this distracted by Rhys, it’s eventually going to start affecting my work with the band. And besides, I love the other guys and they are no less gorgeous. I wouldn’t want to obviously prefer one over the other and cause even more tension in the fragile fabric of music we are creating.
Besides, I can’t imagine anything worse than losing my one shot at making my dreams come true because I can’t turn off my way-too-horny brain. Which suddenly takes over.
“Can you pull over?” I find myself saying. “Or, uh, maybe find an empty parking lot.”
“Sure,” he replies. “What’s going on? Do you need to make a phone call or something? You can just borrow my phone if you’re desperate.”
“Or something,” I answer, my heart racing in my chest as he pulls into a deserted parking lot. I am desperate but not for the reason he thinks. Once the car is parked, I don’t waste a single second, fingers unbuckling my seatbelt before I shamelessly climb into Rhys’s lap, my knees straddling either side of his waist.
He’s smiling up at me, his dark eyes glimmering. “What are you doing, Alyssa?”
“Taking you up on your offer,” I reply, my fingers already sliding underneath his T-shirt. The skin there is warm, the muscles straining under my fingers. I won’t be able to concentrate until I make him mine, even for just a few minutes.
“Are you sure about this?” he asks, even as his palms firmly grip my ass. “Wasn’t it you who was just talking about not mixing business and pleasure—”
“Shh. It doesn’t have to mean anything,” I interrupt him. “We can just…I just need to get this out of my system.”
“…And what happens if I don’t let you?” he murmurs. “What happens if I make you keep your hands all to yourself, Alyssa Smith?”
“You wouldn’t.”
“I might.” He smirks and slides one of his hands down toward my thigh, his fingers slipping underneath the fabric of my panties. I lightly groan as he circles a rough thumb around my clit, and then pushes further, his forefinger slowly sliding into my soaking-wet pussy.
“Please,” I moan, my hips rocking back and forth against his palm. Even in my hungover state, I am aching for him. White flowers of pleasure are blooming behind my eyes. “Rhys, please.”
“…Fuck.” Rhys groans, pushing another finger deeper inside of me. “God, Alyssa. You have no idea how much I want you.”
“Then do it—”
“The problem is that I actually do have somewhere to be this morning,” he groans again. “And I already know that if I start fucking you, darling, I’m not going to be able to stop anytime soon.”
Then, horrifyingly, he slides his hand away from my pussy completely, bringing it back up to my waist.
“Rhys, please—” I start.
“Let me get you home, so you can change into something else.” He grins as he shifts me back toward my side of the car. “I wouldn’t want you showing up for rehearsal this afternoon looking like that. Who knows what might happen? I might not be able to control myself.”
