Page 35 of Just What She Needed

He pulled back and looked at her, breathing hard. In a swift move that surprised her, he pushed away from the door. "Fuck it," he declared. And he took her hand and pulled her toward the curving staircase that led to his bedroom.

14

Cars and rock 'n roll. Not a bad combo!—Kid Rock

Forty minutes later, Rhett followed Rhys onto the elevator. Dazed didn't even begin to describe her condition. All she knew was that she'd just had the best not-sex of her entire life, even if it did leave her frustrated and almost crampy with need.

Despite her willingness, Rhys was adamant that the first time he made love to her would be when they weren't up against the clock, so to speak. From the wonderfully decadent things he said, Rhett was sure he wouldn't balk at pushing her up against a clock, or a wall, or the kitchen sink to drive her right out of her mind. But he said he wanted to take his time with her, to make their first time last.

So after he threw her onto the king size bed, he laid down some rules. Except for shoes, no clothing would be removed, the only body parts that could be touched were those already revealed, and, the worst rule in Rhett's opinion, if he couldn't come then neither could she. Foreplay, he called it. But to a woman whose only experience with foreplay to date was a couple of kisses and perfunctory touching of her breasts, what Rhys did to her was absolute, complete, sweet torture.

She loved it.

Since Rhys wore jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, Rhett didn't have a lot of his revealed skin to work with, but she made the most of his beautifully molded neck and hands. When she could catch them, that is. Her short-sleeved T-shirt and white shorts left a fair amount of skin on display, and Rhys's hands and lips were busy exploring her arms, her legs, and her thighs. And that's where the rule breaking began.

The touch of his lips on the soft skin of her inner thighs sent her to the edge of hurtling right into orbit.

"God, Rhys," she gritted out. "Please touch me." Her plea was punctuated with a moan as his fingers slipped under the hem of her shorts and came close—so close—to that part of her that ached for release.

"You don't know how much that moan turns me on," he murmured against her skin. "Makes me want to do all sorts of filthy things to you, just so I can hear it again."

When his tongue followed the trail of his fingers, he did hear it again. In fact, Rhett thought the people at street level must have heard it, too. His mouth flirted with the elastic leg band of her panties, and she couldn't stop the instinctual push of her hips.

With a low growl of frustration, Rhys slid up her body and kissed her, his tongue delving deep into her mouth since his rules dictated it couldn't delve where she wanted it.

Fed up with not having enough of his skin exposed, Rhett yanked the back of his shirt from the waistband of his jeans and ran her hands up his back.

"You and your ridiculous rules," she whispered.

Rhys pushed himself up on one elbow and looked down at her with a devastating smile. "Ridiculous, hm?"

"Hm," she replied. "See, ever since you showed me this tattoo yesterday,” She ran her fingers down the indentation of his spine over the letters inked there. "I've thought over and over again about how I want to kiss my way all the way down it."

His smile slowly faded, and his eyes took on a faraway look that made it clear he was picturing, maybe even feeling, her lips trailing down his back. "Damn," he whispered just before his mouth claimed hers again, hard, and hot, and almost desperate.

Lips still fused to hers, he rolled her over on top of him, and another rule snapped in two as his hands slipped under her shirt. Rhett hummed with pleasure as he explored the skin over her ribcage before moving his hands to her back.

When the slight pressure of her bra loosened around her ribs, she raised her head and looked at him in surprise.

"Oops." Breathing hard, he slowly slid his hands back down and let them rest on her thighs.

Rhett sat up and regarded him for a moment. "That's against the rules." She reached up the sleeve of her shirt, grasped the strap of her now-unhooked bra, and pulled it out. As she bent her arm to slip the strap off, Rhys licked his lips, his gaze fastened on the movements of her hand. Heart pounding, she repeated the same action on the other side and pulled the bra all the way out of her shirt through the sleeve. She dangled it in front of him and let a smile touch her lips.

"Oops," she whispered, and dropped the bra to the bed.

The coverlet bunched on either side of her as Rhys gripped it so hard his knuckles turned white. Close, she was so close to having those hands on her body. Hoping she could hurry things along, she put her hands on her collarbone and let them trail downward. When her palms brushed over her taut nipples, Rhys pushed up with his hips and brought the bulge in his jeans tight against her. Her gasp was drowned out by his groan.

"Fuck." Rhys grasped her around the waist and slid her off him. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" He sat up and swung his legs off the bed, then bent over and grasped the edge of the mattress. "Airport. Flight. Vancouver. Album." One of his hands landed on Rhett's discarded bra, and he picked it up and pressed it to his face, breathing deep. "This isn't helping." He flung it aside and ran his hand through his hair. "Tax forms. Accountants. Lawyers."

Rhett bit her lips and shook her head in amusement as his heavy breathing eased a bit. Yes, the thought of lawyers would do it every time. She picked up her bra and climbed off the bed. Standing in front of him, she folded the silky material and slipped it into her front pocket. “Guess I won’t bother putting this back on.”

Rhys closed his eyes and pointed a finger at her. "You." He paused for several deep breaths. The pointing finger was now aimed somewhere to the side. "Go stand over there."

She slid her feet into her sandals and went to stand beside his luggage. "Whatever you say, Mr. Collinsworth. Or is it Mr. James?"

A growl came from deep in his chest. "Damn me, why did I ever think this was a good idea?"

"It worked, though, didn't it?" Rhett bit her lips as he rose slowly from the bed and made some adjustments to the front of his jeans. "I'm about to burst into flame, and you can't walk."