Seriously… I hope that man gets eaten by sand snakes.”
Rhys frowned but there was laughter in his words. “Wait a second … is that what you muttered when we first met?”
Uh-oh.
“Maybe. You did accost me just as my boss was arriving so I may or may not have wished for a door to another dimension to open, in which you’d fall through into a world of terrifying sand snakes.”
“Like Beetlejuice?”
I flashed him a quick grin, amazed he could amuse me when I was so goddamn angry at Fairchild. “Yes. But back to the point …
There was a moment of silence between us while I gathered my thoughts on this new information. Finally, I said, “You need to tell Dean.”
“No.” Rhys sat back on the bed, his countenance granite. “No fucking way.”
“I know you’ve been protecting him a long time … but, Rhys, he deserves to know the truth. He’s a grown man now, and keeping this from him, fobbing him off with fake accounting, isn’t protecting him. It’s making him a chump.” I ignored his blistering glare and continued. “Your brother is very smart. Confide in him. Take the pressure off your shoulders. Then maybe the two of you can come up with a plan.”
“I have a plan. I’m going to fight.”
I stood, anger at Fairchild ripping through me. “You are not fighting for that man.” I pointed toward the bedroom door. “He doesn’t get that from you, Rhys. If you fight for him, you know that will mess with your head in more ways than one. Please … before you do anything, please promise that you’ll talk to Dean. And I’m here. I can help … you know I am a problem solver. It’s kind of what I do.”
When he didn’t say anything, I whispered, “Please, Rhys. Trust in Dean. In me. Don’t do this alone anymore.”
Something warm entered Rhys’s gaze until his shoulders slumped. He nodded, his voice hoarse. “Okay, sweetheart. I’ll talk to Dean.”
That ache, the pleasurable kind I’d felt in my chest earlier, spread through me again. Tenderness filled me. I stood from my seat and walked slowly toward Rhys on the bed.
That warmth in his expression turned to heat as I pushed between his legs to curl my hands around his neck. He reached for me, his fingers flexing on my waist as he pulled me close.
“Had a shitty night, Tink,” he said, his voice low. “You interested in making it better?”
A shiver tingled down my spine as I felt a familiar tug of need low in my belly. I brushed my thumbs along the bristle of his cheeks and leaned in to whisper against his mouth, “I’m interested in making it phenomenal.”
He grinned, his eyes dancing. He slid a hand under my shirt, and I trembled a little, undermining my verbal cockiness. “Big talk, sweetheart.”
“You don’t think I can make your night phenomenal?”
Rhys deftly unclipped my bra and my eyes widened. His grin softened to a sensual smile. “I was exhausted when I walked in this door. But all you have to do”—he slipped his hands out of my shirt to grasp the hem—“is press that gorgeous little body of yours to mine”—he drew the shirt up over my head, and I raised my arms to help him—“and I’m harder …” Rhys paused as he watched me lower the straps of my bra. Nervousness filled me as I bared myself to him.
I wasn’t voluptuous.
Not at all.
I worried for about a millisecond that I wasn’t enough. Only a millisecond because Rhys literally growled under his breath as he stared at my breasts. His eyes dragged back up to meet mine as his hands coasted up my sides. “The last time I was this hard, I was a fucking teenager, so my night is already phenomenal, sweetheart.”
I gasped as he cupped my small breasts in his big hands, shivering against the delicious rough calluses on his palms, moaning as his thumbs caught my nipples. “Rhys.”
Seconds later I was in very real danger of turning into a melted puddle as Rhys tugged me toward him so he could wrap his hot mouth around my left nipple.
Pleasure zinged straight between my legs. I clasped my hand behind his head, writhing against him as he lavished worshipful attention upon my breasts. Swollen, needy, I sighed as he trailed hot kisses up toward my neck. I bent to him, offering my mouth, which he took with a voraciousness that shattered my control.
“Too many clothes,” I gasped against his mouth, pushing