More Than One Night. Sarah Mayberry
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“What are we waiting for, then?”
CHAPTER THREE
RHYS SLIPPED HIS hand into hers and led her toward the next cab.
“Potts Point,” he said as he climbed into the backseat, pulling her behind him.
She wanted him to kiss her again very badly. Instead, he slid his arm around her and tugged her against his side.
“You smell good,” he said as the cab drove away from the curb.
“So do you.” She put her hand on his thigh, her belly tightening as she felt the firm muscle beneath her fingers. He had a beautiful body. She couldn’t wait to see it.
Rhys leaned close and started to kiss her neck, small, delicate caresses that made her limp with need. She let her head drop to the side and tried not to moan out loud.
She was aware that they’d arrived at their destination only when the taxi jerked to a halt. Rhys gave a surprised grunt and removed his arm from around her shoulders to pull his wallet from his back pocket.
“Keep the change,” he said as he handed the driver two twenties.
They slid out of the car.
“You realize you gave that guy an eighty percent tip, right?” she said.
“It was worth it.” He took her hand and led her toward the entrance of a modern apartment block. She felt light-headed with lust, all her thoughts concentrated on what was about to happen upstairs. In his bedroom.
His thumb brushed gentle circles inside her wrist as they rode to the sixth floor.
“This is me,” he said as he led her toward a nondescript gray door. He unlocked the door, flicking on a light as he led her inside.
“I’ve got beer or wine—”
Charlie pushed him against the wall and pressed her body to his. “I don’t want beer or wine.”
She kissed him, channeling years of frustrated desire into the meeting of their mouths and tongues. He responded with equal hunger, his hands sliding up her rib cage and onto her breasts. His thumbs found her nipples with unerring accuracy and she jerked her hips against his as he squeezed them gently.
“Man,” he muttered against her mouth.
She slid her hands onto his backside and urged his hips closer to hers, rubbing herself against his erection. He responded by pushing his hands beneath her top and cupping her bare breasts. He teased her mercilessly, to the point where she started to pant.
“Charlie, you are so damn hot,” he said, breaking their kiss to look into her face.
“I need to be naked.” She had no idea where the demand came from. She’d never been this sexually aggressive in her life, but there was something about this man…
“The feeling is totally mutual.”
He held her gaze as he slid a hand over the front of her trousers. She gave a small, needy whimper as he cupped her sex, his fingers pressing against the spot where she needed him the most.
“Are you ready for me, Charlie?” he asked, his voice very low.
She answered with her body, pressing herself forward, into his hand. She reached for the stud on his jeans at the same time, her fingers fumbling for the warm metal of his zipper. It gave readily and she felt him tense as she slid her hand into the opening she’d created. Her fingers found warm cotton over hard flesh. She gripped him firmly, stroking her hand along his length. He shuddered and closed his eyes for the briefest of seconds. When he opened them again his eyes blazed into hers.
“Let’s go.”
She removed her hand from his jeans as he pushed them both away from the wall. He led her into a darkened living room and up another hallway. She was too intent on the man walking ahead of her to pay much attention to her surroundings. As he entered what she assumed was the bedroom, she reached for the hem of her top and dragged it over her head. It hit the floor with a metallic hiss and Rhys turned to face her, his gaze dropping immediately to her naked breasts.
He mouthed a four-letter word, the appreciation in his eyes lifting her desire higher still.
“You’re going to have to help me with these stupid pants,” she said a she reached for the snap on her trousers.
“Those pants are not stupid. They’re a modern miracle,” he said as she lowered the zipper, revealing the plain black cotton panties she wore beneath.
She pushed her trousers down her legs and he helped her slide them past her knees.
“That’s better,” she said.
His gaze roamed her almost naked body. “It certainly is.”
Charlie had never had an easy relationship with her own body, but the way he looked at her made her feel like a goddess.
“Take your clothes off,” she said.
She moved to the bed, crawling onto the mattress before rolling onto her back and hooking her thumbs into the waistband of her underwear. Her gaze locked with his, she slipped her panties down her legs.
“Man, you are killing me here, Charlie.” He fumbled with his shirt buttons, then simply grabbed either side and ripped before shrugging the shirt off to reveal a broad, well-muscled chest. She eyed him avidly as he pushed his jeans down, toeing off his shoes at the same time. His belly muscles rippled as he shucked his own underwear and her gaze gravitated to his erection. Hard and proud, the sight of it made her want to purr like a cat.
He smiled, obviously enjoying her unashamed inspection. He strode toward the bed. The mattress dipped, then the hard, hot weight of his body was pressing against hers and pure instinct took over.
He lowered his head, sucking one of her breasts into his mouth. She hooked a leg around his hips, sliding a hand onto his erection at the same time. She stroked him confidently, greedily, while he sucked and kissed and gently bit her breasts. Within minutes she was panting, losing her own rhythm, aware only of the need to have him inside her. Now.
“Rhys,” she breathed.
He lifted his head from her breasts and grinned. “Don’t tell me you can’t wait.”
“Rhys.” She tightened her grip on his shaft.
He leaned across to the nightstand and yanked open the drawer. She closed her eyes, barely holding it together as she heard the rustle of a foil package being opened. She opened them again as she felt him pressing against her entrance.
She held her breath, waiting for him to push inside her. Instead, Rhys looked deep into her eyes while one hand traveled down her belly to between her thighs. She lifted her hips reflexively as his fingers delved into her intimate folds. She knew he could feel how wet she was, how ready for him she was. His gaze grew hooded and a muscle in his jaw ticked. He stroked her, monitoring the small catches in her breathing and the way she moved her head on the bed and the way her body trembled beneath his.
Just when she was about to scream with frustration he flexed his hips and slid inside her. Her body welcomed him as he buried himself to the hilt. She let out a broken little sob, almost tearful over how good it felt to be filled by him, how hard and thick and hot he felt inside her.
He started to move, and within seconds she’d found his rhythm. Every clumsy sexual encounter she’d ever had, every second of self-consciousness over her body or her own needs, every doubt she’d ever experienced went out the window as she gave herself over to the moment.
There was only him and her and the place where their bodies were joined and the suck of his mouth at her breasts and the feel of his back and shoulders and chest beneath her hands and the steady, deep thrusting of his body inside hers. All too soon her body tightened toward release and she curled her fingers into his