against him, needing more.
“Can’t get enough, can you?” he growled.
“Can’t get close enough to you,” she panted.
She felt his fingers convulse on hers.
Then she came in a blinding rush. She shoved back against his strong body, his name torn from her lips. “Rhys.”
“Haven.” Another hard, violent thrust and he came. His roar echoed in her ears as she rode through the shockwaves of her orgasm.
Rhys’ arms wrapped around her as they collapsed on the bed. She looked into the mirror and saw one muscled, tattooed arm banded across her naked body.
Warmth unfolded inside her chest. She felt a prick of panic in the back of her head, but she pushed it away.
There was nowhere else she wanted to be right now except in Rhys’ arms.
He kissed her shoulder. “Sleep, baby.”
Warm, well-pleasured, and feeling safe, she did.
Chapter Thirteen
Rhys woke and stretched one arm over his head.
Damn. They hadn’t gotten much sleep, but he didn’t regret a thing.
He reached out and found no warm, soft body beside him, but he heard water running in his bathroom.
He stuffed a pillow under his head and eyed the bed. The sheets were nearly torn off. He pulled the corner of one sheet over his naked body and smiled. Haven McKinney hid a hot, wild, sex kitten under her tight skirts.
He heard her humming as she brushed her teeth, and his smile widened. He liked this—feeling good, lazy, his woman in his bathroom.
Now he just had to convince her not to be scared of it.
He heard the water shut off. As he lay there, Rhys realized that for the first time in a really long time, he didn’t feel that gnawing need in his gut to leap out of bed and get moving. The urge to get out, find something to distract himself, to stay in motion. He knew that it was when you stopped that old demons caught you.
But right now, his demons were quiet.
Haven sauntered out of the bathroom. She was in one of his T-shirts. It was too big for her—it hit her at mid-thigh, and the neckline slid down one shoulder.
A silky-smooth shoulder. His cock woke up. Shit, when was the last time a shoulder had turned him on?
Her hair was a sleep-mussed mess. All that brown hair gave him ideas.
Her steps slowed. “Hi.”
“Hey.”
Her gaze ran over him. He just had the twist of the sheet covering his hips, one leg uncovered.
She swallowed. “You look like a debauched rock star.”
“Well, the debauched part is right.”
Color flared in her cheeks. She twisted her hair up in a messy pile on her head and fastened it with a band. “I’ll cook us some breakfast. Then I want to go over everything we have on the Water Lilies.”
Rhys was momentarily distracted. As she lifted her arms up to do her hair, the hem of the T-shirt lifted. He saw several more inches of those slender thighs. Was she wearing panties?
“Rhys?”
Her words registered. “We?”
“Yes.” Her chin lifted. “I’m going to help you find the painting.”
He was tempted to lock her up somewhere safe, far, far away from San Francisco, and anything to do with the painting.
But he knew she’d fight him.
The only other alternative was to stick to her every second.
“Come here,” he said.
She hesitated, but then she moved and pressed a knee to the bed. “Rhys—”
Using his lightning-fast reflexes, he yanked her on top of him.
“You got panties on under that?” She was half sprawled on him, and he reached out and gripped her leg, just above her knee.
“I’m not answering that.” She sniffed. “I told you, you have nothing to do with any decisions on what I’m wearing.”
He slid his hand up, saw her chest hitch. “But I have some say in the clothes you take off.” His hand danced under the hem of the T-shirt, moving toward the juncture of her thighs. “Your skin is so soft, Haven.”
Then he found out that she definitely wasn’t wearing panties.
“My angel’s got a naughty streak.” He slid a finger inside her warmth.
She moaned, her head dropping forward. She pressed her hands to his chest and he loved the bite of her nails on his skin.
Rhys thrust two fingers inside her, his thumb strumming across her clit. Her hips moved restlessly, and she cried out.
“Get there, baby,” he murmured.
She panted, her hips rocking on his hand. “Rhys.”
“Come.”
“Oh, God.” She ground down.
He pinched her clit and she came. He felt a rush of wet on his fingers and her tight pussy squeezing. Her husky cries were the sweetest