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He groans, bringing his hand down to palm his dick and readjusting it.
“Think twice before you say that to me again.”
“Sorry.” I mumble.
I’m not sure why I’m apologizing. It’s not my fault I can make him hard with a couple words. Although I am happy to see that I at least have the same physical effect on him as he does on me.
It’s the voice. I’m sure there’s some Darwinistic theory that can explain my reaction to him. Bellamy would know about it.
I mean, Rhys is a study in perfection and the very definition of an alpha male physically. Being attracted to him really just means I'm a normal, perfectly well adjusted, red-blooded female.
It can’t be helped.
It’s evolutionary, I’m sure of it.
“We’re having a party tonight. You should come.” He turns his face towards me, “I assume Bellamy will need to be there for Rogue.”
Of course she’ll need to be there. That psycho has been abusing his power since day one.
“I’ll think about it.” I answer, but I’m being intentionally difficult.
I’ll likely be there. The only thing I love more than soccer is a good party and the last one at Rhys’ house was wild.
I sit up, my muscles cursing me out as I do, and stand to pack my things up.
“Alright, I’m heading home.”
“Let me give you a lift.”
“I’m good, thanks.”
“I’ll see you tonight then.”
I throw my bag over my shoulder and turn to face him. He’s still lying on the ground, his head resting on his bent right elbow, his other hand splayed on his stomach.
He’s lifted the bottom of his shirt slightly so his hand can rest on bare skin, his finger absentmindedly circling his belly button. His shorts hang low revealing the smooth expanse of a tanned and toned stomach with deep V lines down his sides that disappear past the waistband.
He seems so large and imposing, even horizontal, it’s unfair. Anyone in bed next to him would be dwarfed by his size.
He’s got to be an excellent cuddler.
No.
No, Thayer.
“I didn’t say I was coming.”
He sits up, rests backwards on his forearms and smiles at me. “Can’t wait to see what you wear.”
“You–,” I start and stop, “Your brain should be studied by scientists.”
“Thank you.”
“My point exactly.” I grab my water bottle and give him an awkward little wave. “See you tomorrow. What time?”
“We’ll talk about it tonight.”
I stalk off with a huff. “Goodbye, Mackley.”
