Watch Me (Phoenix #1) - Stacey Kennedy Page 0,6
brought his mouth close to hers then nipped her lip. “That’s right, sweetheart, give me what I want.”
What happened next was completely unexpected. He thrust once, hard enough to make her scream again, and any pleasure she thought she’d had before this moment, was incomparable to the sheer force that stormed over. Wave after wave of penetrating euphoria blasted across her senses until there was no man, no crowd, no Phoenix, only the intensity erupting deep in her soul.
Sometime later, a round of applause forced her to reopen her eyes. She wiggled her toes, but her legs were heavy. Far too heavy to move. She found herself staring into the masked man’s gorgeous eyes, his softer cock still buried deep inside her. Her first surprise was that the fire in his gaze hadn’t lessened. The second was that the protectiveness she felt emanating from him seemed stronger now.
Tonight, she did what she’d planned to do, and suddenly, the weight of the last year slammed into her. Her throat squeezed and chin quivered. The masked man above her held her stare, almost like he knew she was about to break apart, and yet, he didn’t look bothered. No, he looked…ready.
“Breathe,” he told her gently.
She let out the air stuck in her tight throat. A moment later, the crowd began to leave the room, talking and laughing like they hadn’t just witnessed her having sex for the first time. Maybe this was normal for them, but it certainly wasn’t normal for her. And with Jake and Scott gone, her heart had a moment to ask…what did you just do?
When she heard the door click shut, the masked man, still deep inside her, did the most unexpected thing. He gathered her in his arms until she was sitting on him, and then he put a hand on the back of her head to hold her close.
He said absolutely nothing, but his hold tightened, and the warmth he exuded shattered something inside of her.
The tears she’d fought broke free. The pain of a year, spilling out. The loss of her dreams, of what never was, emptying into this stranger’s arms.
Only when her tears dried did he shift and cup her face intimately. He held her stare like he owed her something. And then he gently kissed her, almost like a thank you for what she’d given him. She became just as lost as she’d been before. Taken to a place where her heart could nearly believe all men weren’t bad.
When he finally broke the kiss, he lifted her until he set her on her feet. She felt the heat of her blush rush over her cheeks, now reminded she was naked and not nearly as brave as she’d portrayed earlier tonight. He grabbed the black silk robe from the tray and dressed her. With a gentle look in his eyes, he fastened the robe and said, “I’ll give you a moment. Then I expect to hear exactly who you are and what the hell game you were playing tonight.”
Instead of lying, since she was never very good at that, she simply nodded. Naked, with the full condom still wrapped around his gorgeous cock, she watched him leave, his solid, muscled ass and flexing back, holding her full attention. How easy it would be to believe men could be good. That she could trust them. But men lied. They destroyed lives. She didn’t owe any man a damn thing, certainly not a stranger who thought she owed him her pain.
Chapter 3
When Rhys returned home later that evening, hot irritation licked through his veins. After dressing at the end of the show, he’d returned to talk with the woman he learned from Archer was named Zoey Parker, only to discover that she’d snuck out and took off. Rhys lived by strict rules. It kept Phoenix safe. He only slept with a woman once. No star appeared multiple times at the club. Only members were allowed in the building, except for the stars of the show, who went through Archer’s grueling vetting process. And finally, Rhys didn’t ask for any personal information about his stars. He didn’t know the names of the women he slept with. He kept things strictly professional. Zoey had him breaking his ironclad rules, and that didn’t sit well.
To rid himself of his mood, he showered off his frustration and prepared his house for poker night. He lived on the Lower East Side, enjoying the energy of the neighborhood. The trendy bars, nightclubs,