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“That was some blow job.” Rhys focused on my lips, his thumb caressing my cheek. “You didn’t need me to teach you, princess.”
A cell phone beeped with one message after another. I didn’t own a phone. My dad only used burner phones and ditched them every month. He said we could never be too careful. Someone could trace us through the signal.
Rhys sat up and retrieved the phone from his pocket. He read the messages with his body angled away from me. But I could tell whatever the person sent upset him.
“Is everything okay?” I asked.
“Yeah.” He shoved the phone back into his pocket and got dressed. “All good.”
It sounded like a lie.
“It’s getting late.” He bent down and pulled me toward him. “You should get some rest. Willow Marshall is taking you to the salon bright and early.” He glanced at the clock. “You won’t get much sleep. Sorry about that.”
I pressed my lips to his. “I would rather be doing this.”
He kissed me back. “For once, I’m trying to do the right thing.”
“That’s why I like you, Rhys. You’re a bad boy. You do whatever you want.”
“Willow will tell my mom if I keep you up too late and you miss your appointment. I don’t want to get on her bad side. That woman is a force to be reckoned with.”
“She raised you, so she must be strong.”
“I wish we’d met sooner.” Rhys slid off the bed, staring down at me. “But I have a feeling you’ll be in my life for a long time.”
“Maybe.” I gave him a sweet smile and covered my naked body with a sheet, suddenly feeling vulnerable with him fully clothed. “Who knows when we’ll see each other again? I’m moving with my dad.”
“Do you know where you’re going?”
I shook my head. “I never do. My dad gives me a map and says to pick a place anywhere in the world. If I guess right, he’ll buy me anything I want.”
“Have you ever guessed correctly?”
“No, but that’s what makes our game fun. It’s kind of our thing.”
“Do you remember anything about your bio dad?” He sat next to me on the bed. “Viktor.”
Whenever someone said his name, I cringed.
Viktor Romanov.
My dad.
The terrorist.
“The scar on his right hand,” I admitted with a sigh. “And a song he used to sing to me before bed. The man I knew wasn’t bad. But I guess we don’t really know people, do we?”
“Probably not. Most people hide their true selves because they fear being judged.”
I leaned into his shoulder, meeting his gaze. “What about you?”
“I have nothing to hide.” His words said one thing, but his face said another when he looked away. He kissed me once more and hopped up from the mattress. “Night, princess. Sweet dreams.”
“Night,” I murmured before he left in a hurry.
ChapterSixteen
COLE
