“Like this?” he asks, lapping at me. “You taste amazing.”

“Nobody’s ever… I haven’t…” I can’t finish as he simply tears the panties off me and tosses them over his shoulder, all humor suddenly gone from his face.

“Are you saying I’m the first to do this?”

I nod, eyes wide.

“Lay back, baby.”

“I wanna watch,” I reply softly, then bite my lip. He smirks and doesn’t argue as he lowers his lips to me, barely kissing me. His fingertips part my lips, then sink inside me.

Holy shit. I can’t catch my breath. I lay back because I don’t have the strength to stay on my elbows. All of my attention is centered on the bundle of nerves at my core, where Rhys is paying all of his attention.

And oh, my, is he good at paying attention.

His fingers sweep around and press against my inner walls and push up. He presses his tongue on my clit, and my legs begin to shake uncontrollably. My toes curl.

Even my hair follicles are standing on end.

“Rhys!”

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“Mmm-hmmm,” he mutters, but doesn’t pull his mouth away. Everything seems to gather into a bright, tiny ball, and then that ball explodes, sending me into the most crazy orgasm I’ve ever had in my life.

I’m not even sure that you could call what I’ve had in the past an orgasm compared to this.

So this is what all the fuss is about!

Rhys kisses me some more, just on the outside of my very sensitive lips, my inner thighs, the crease where my thigh and center meet, then up my belly again.

And you know what? I don’t give even one fuck that he’s looking at my belly right now. Because clearly he doesn’t have any fucks to give about it either.

Suddenly, he pulls me up into a sitting position and kisses my lips. I can taste myself, and damn if that isn’t a turn-on in itself.

“Go have a shower, baby. Get ready for your day. I’m making breakfast.”

And before I can argue, he jumps up, gracing me with an incredible view of his tight ass and sculpted back. His backside is almost as impressive as his front side. He grabs his clothes and leaves my bedroom, and me, sitting in my big, warm bed with the most ridiculous smile on my face.

Damn, he could make a girl fall in love with him.

Chapter Six

~Rhys~

She’s gotten under my skin. That’s all there is to it.

I check the bacon and pull it out of the oven just before it burns. I hope Gabby likes it crispy.

Get your head in the game, O’Shaughnessy.

I’m scrambling eggs and dishing up fruit as Gabby walks into the kitchen, looking fresh from her shower.

And happy, with that knock-me-out smile on her face. Her eyes are bright and clear of any stress or worry.

I’m going to keep her this way.

“Hey,” she says. “It smells amazing in here.”

“I hope you like crispy bacon.”

She nods as she walks around the island, stands on her tip-toes¸ and tips her face up to kiss me. I still have to bend down to oblige. Without looking, I take the eggs off the burner and pull her in for a long, deep kiss. Her hands cling to my sides, and when I pull back, her cheeks are flushed.

Matching mine, I’m sure.

“Are you hungry?” I ask.

“Mmm,” she purrs and licks her bottom lip.

“For food, silly.” I kiss her nose and turn back to the task at hand, dishing up her plate, then mine.

“You made coffee.” She pours us each a cup and sits next to me at the island. “You’re a savior.”

“Coffee addict?”

“Absolutely.” She dives into her food, eating most of a slice of bacon, then holds the last bite up to my lips. “It’s delicious.”

I bite her fingertips on purpose, making her laugh. “Yes, it is.”

She simply raises a brow and sticks a strawberry in her mouth, then clears our empty plates, a new little wiggle in her hips as she walks.

I love the new-found confidence she’s discovered in the past twenty-four hours. I didn’t lie to her; she is perfect, just as she is, and seeing her believe it is just magnificent.

“Music!” Gabby tethers her phone to a Bluetooth speaker system and grins as a Beyonce song comes on. “I like to dance as I clean up when guests aren’t here.”

“I guess I’m not a guest anymore?”

Her jaw drops and she blinks rapidly. “I’m sorry. Of course you are.”

I catch her arm and pull her against me. “No, I’d say that crossing over into the intimate side of things means that I’m not a guest.”

“I can’t charge you for your room,” she says fiercely. “But when Sam comes home, you can’t sleep with me.”

“Gabby, I didn’t mean to start a panic attack.” I brush her hair over her shoulders and massage her neck. She’s biting that lower lip, worry creasing her brow. “I’ll pay for my room, and continue sleeping in it when Sam comes home. And in the mean time, we’ll take it one day at a time.”

She relaxes and nods, then smiles. “Okay.”

“Okay.” She steps closer to me, pushing her hands up my chest to my shoulders. “You’re muscular.”

“It’s part of the job.”

Her eyes are happy as she watches her hands take a tour of my arms, and my own hands don’t want to stay still. They fall down her slender back and around her sides, then back up again, and her eyes find mine.




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