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“This might be the cruelest thing to ever happen to me,” I mutter, my nipples hard against the fabric of my dress, my pussy feeling only need. My body is so desperate for him that it’s difficult to breathe, my mind obsessed with how good his cock is going to feel buried deep inside of me.
“Hey, I didn’t say anything about going back on my side of the deal,” he replies, already pulling out of the parking lot. “If I were you, darling, I’d stay on my toes.”
* * *
If Rhys is goingto play games with me, then I’m going to play them right back.
I decide to show up for rehearsal wearing the most revealing outfit that I could put together, straight from Marina’s closet. Marina, shocked by my sudden interest, outfitted me in a tight crop top, and a barely-reaching-the-middle-of-my-thigh leather skirt, and finished the outfit off with a pair of high heels. And while I’m uncomfortable in a way that I haven’t yet experienced in my lifetime, I can’t pretend like I’m not satisfied with the overall result. I look super hot, yet cool and badass at the same time. I look like I don’t care what anyone thinks.
Because Rhys’s eyes have been glued to me ever since I first stepped into the studio. There’s something behind his expression too, something I can’t quite read, but it’s making me feel like I’m winning even though no one’s keeping score. Although, as the rehearsal goes on, I start to notice that it’s not just Rhys’s eyes glued to my frame, but Van and Cameron are stealing a few glances here and there, too.
Once I realize that I basically turned myself into some kind of living pin-up doll,andI remember that Rhys isn’t the only guy in the room, I start to seriously regret my decision.
Fuck.
Yes, I wanted to get back at Rhys and make him regret not fucking me into oblivion in his car this morning, but I obviously want to come off as a serious member of the band to Cameron and Van. And now here I am, dressed up like I’m five minutes away from walking onto the set of a skin flick, my skirt so short that I can’t bend over without flashing my naked pussy.
Maybe I should have worn panties.
I roll my eyes at myself, with the full understanding that I was definitely 100 percent right about getting Rhys Marshall out of my system when I’d had the chance. This is exactly what I was worried was going to happen if I became way too focused on hooking up with Rhys. I need my focus to be on the music, not on fucking my band member within an inch of his life.
“I need to talk to you.” Rhys’s voice is gruff as he walks up to me during our usual break. “Right now.”
“What do you need to talk to me about?” I ask, folding my arms across my chest, trying to cover up, self-conscious about just how much skin I’m showing at the moment.
“Come with me,” Rhys says, not explaining himself but instead roughly grabbing me by the hand. He then pulls me out of the studio, not stopping until he brings us into an empty conference room. He gently pushes me across the threshold before he slams the door behind us.
“Rhys, what’s going on—”
“I’m going to fuck you,” he starts. “Slowly, then hard. I’m going to make you come harder than ever. And then you’re going to go home and change.”
“Rhys—”
“You are completely throwing everyone off their game, Alyssa,” he growls. “Didn’t you wonder why the band sounded like shit today?”
“I’m sorry…I was just trying to get your attention,” I admit. “After this morning in your car, I just wanted—”
“I know what you wanted, Alyssa, and you need to be punished,” Rhys replies, as he reaches for my waist, directing me toward the side of the large, wooden conference table. In one swoop, he easily lifts me onto the wooden surface before he forces my legs apart, my thighs resting on either side of him. His hand slides under my skirt for my panties next, and his face twists into an unreadable expression when his fingers slide along my bare skin instead.
“Jesus Christ, Alyssa,” he groans. “You’re fucking destroying me.”
I watch as he swiftly undoes his leather belt with one hand and hastily slides his jeans and boxers down to the floor. I then bite my lip to keep myself from letting out a surprised sound once I catch a closeup look at how thick and veiny Rhys’s cock is. The tip of his weighty shaft is already wet with pearlescent pre-cum.
“Hey, we don’t want any er… bundles of joy, do we,” he whispers. “Do you need me to wear a condom or—”
“I’m on the shot,” I answer, letting out a nervous laugh. “But not because I …I usually don’t do this sort of thing.”
“When did you last get tested?” he interrupts, his gaze hungrily taking in all of me.
“A few months ago,” I answer, a little surprised by Rhys’s thorough line of questioning. I don’t know why, but I kind of assumed that he subscribed to a total rock and roll lifestyle, which I guess I imagined didn’t involve caring so much about playing by the rules.
“And you haven’t been with anyone since?”
“No.”
“Good.” He grins before suddenly thrusting his huge cock right into me, and my mouth immediately twists into a deep moan. My head falls back of its own volition.
“Fuck! Rhys!” I whimper, my legs wrapping even tighter around his waist. He’s filling up all the possible space inside of my pussy, my slick walls stretching around his shaft in an attempt to accommodate his size. I whimper again when he starts to move, thrusting against me, slowly at first like he promised, and little by little he changes to a rougher, frenzied pace. I move with him, my hips in harmony with his, moving of their own accord. Our rhythm is perfect together.
