The Waltz (7 page)

“Rhys, oh God. Rhys, oh God.” I already felt like I was going to come. “Please kiss me. Oh God, this feels so good.”

He let go of my arms, thrusting his hands into my hair, his mouth crashing down onto mine. Our tongues thrashed wildly as I felt his cock throbbing inside me. I’d never felt so good in my life. We licked and sucked as our tongues tangled and still we didn’t move. We stopped only when we had to take a breath. As soon as my eyes opened to meet his, he started grinding into me gently.

I felt the stir immediately, the pull of my release close.

“Wait,” he said, reading my body. “Just hold on a little longer,” he urged, catching my bottom lip and sucking it slowly. I tossed my head back and felt his lips cover my chest as everything inside of me became unglued. I was quaking already and felt the pull getting stronger and stronger.

“I need you to fuck me, right now,” I ordered to Rhys who replied by turning us around and pinning me to the ottoman. He spread my legs as far as they would go and buried his dick deep, hitting me exactly where I needed him. He drilled into me as I screamed out, praising him and cursing him at the same time.

“This pussy is so tight, God yes,” he said, tearing me apart with his perfect cock. I reached between us, circling my fingers and squeezing on his slick width made available as he pulled away before pounding into me again. He hissed and grunted as he watched us connect, watching my pussy contract and surround his cock. I felt the pull even stronger now and gripped his shoulders, digging my nails into him. Sensing it coming, he nailed into me, pulling my ass off the ottoman. With one more deep thrust, I came apart, clawing and scratching as my body spasmed out of control. He pressed on my clit hard and began massaging it. Seconds later, another tidal wave hit me and I saw white as I writhed and moaned beneath him. He slowed his thrusts until I caught my breath, opening my eyes to see his dilated, his chest glistening and stained with my nail marks. He slowed to a stop, pulling his cock out of me, stroking a few time as his eyes took me in.

“Fucking beautiful,” he mouthed, his voice barely audible. He seemed to be taken with my reaction to him. “I don’t want to hurt you. I got carried away.”

“Please, Rhys, I want to see you come, and I want you inside of me when you do it.” Those words were all it took and he was gliding inside me, touching me deep. I got to appreciate him then as my hands roved his biceps and chest. I wrapped my legs around him and squeezed, feeling him harden further as he hovered over me, thrusting deep. Minutes later, he threw his head back and grunted as my pussy milked him for everything he had.

It was the best fucking kiss of my life.

At home that night, I cursed my stupidity in the tub as I smiled with the memory of his face so close to mine, his beautiful body glistening as he took me so hard I came twice. Multiples, my God, multiples!

I had to text him.

Violet: Hey, just wanted to thank you for the kiss.

A few minutes later, I got my response.

Rhys: My pleasure
.

Violet: I want to thank your thick cock too.

Rhys: Soon.

Violet: Goodnight.

Rhys: Goodnight.

As I prepared to spend the weekend with my mother, I texted Rhys, letting him know I was taking a short trip and he was on his own. His return text was vague.

Rhys: OK.

I had no obligation to let him know my whereabouts, but didn’t want an incoming text like the one I’d gotten a few days ago flashing across my smartphone.

Rhys: Pretty pussy, here now! Green.

I had no complaints with green so far and enjoyed the large candlelit table that could easily seat twelve he had set up in one of the club rooms. When I asked what we were having, his reply was his tongue inside me for hours on top of that very table. He sent me home with a sated smile, promising me more of where that came from.

The man was a fucking miracle.

I put one last piece of clothing in my bag, only to meet Alex at the door. His arms were crossed and he must have caught me smiling and thinking of Rhys. I didn’t feel any guilt as I pushed past him.

“Where are you going?”

“Away, Alex. Have a good weekend.” He stopped me with his hand on my shoulder.

“Whatever I’ve done to hurt you,” he said staring at the floor between us, “I really didn’t mean to.”

I sighed heavily, fighting my emotions. Why the hell did I still care? Why the hell did this man still get to me?

“Why are you suddenly so concerned with my affections, Alex, and with the state of our marriage? It’s too late, even to keep up appearances. Despite what you think, I’m not an idiot. This, the way you’re acting right now,” I gestured to him, “isn’t genuine, and whatever your reasons are at this point, I don’t give a damn. Don’t play concerned husband now. There is nothing left for you here,” I said, holding my chest, my voice shaking.

“I know you still love me. You are my wife.” He pulled the bag from my hand, setting it down in an attempt to pull me to him. I brushed him off easily.

“It’s too late. Way too late. I’ll be back.”

I walked out on him then, a small amount of satisfaction and a little sadness accompanying me as I went.

I spent the weekend doubled over with cramps and eating my mother’s homemade fudge. It was the perfect set up: my mother, the movie Fried Green Tomatoes, and endless amounts of chocolate. We laughed and cried, made huge breakfasts, and spent a large amount of time snoozing on the couch. Sometimes a girl just needs her mama, and this Southern belle was no exception.

I came home refreshed on Sunday and texted Rhys right away.

Violet: Home safe. Hope you are well.

I waited hours for my reply.

Rhys: Ok.

Wow, he was on a roll. I felt I owed him some sort of explanation. We were exclusive, but only sexually. It appeared he didn’t give a damn, so I left it alone. I wanted to see him. I wanted to talk to him, but I was still bleeding and casual talk wasn’t exactly our arrangement. I would just have to see what he did next.

Son of a bitch! I moaned as I stomped around my house. It had been a week since I’d gotten back from my mother’s. It was Sunday afternoon and I had listings to show in the morning. I had put myself back to work full time, no longer having an excuse to be a lazy, moping wino. Giving myself a kick in the ass, I got back on the treadmill, even if it was only twice for twenty minutes. I felt better about myself and this was progress, but my tour guide seemed to have quit without resignation and I was beyond frustrated. I heard the ping and leaped for my phone. Man, he had me. It was another address followed by a ‘green’.

I was still furious with him for making me wait but couldn’t keep my feet from taking the steps to my shower for a quick scrub. Putting on a pair of jeans and a dressy top, I slipped into a more comfortable pair of heels. Running my hands through my long blonde hair, I noted that I needed a cut and got into my car.

Play it cool, Vi. If he’s kept up his end, he should be fit to be tied as well. You can do this. Be cool.

I pulled up to a house that sat on a square on in downtown Savannah across from Forsyth Park and studied it. It was a huge family home and I was utterly confused. It looked like something out of a
Southern Home
magazine. Minutes later, he was at the front door, waving me in. I walked up the three hundred steps to the door—okay, that’s a slight exaggeration—and greeted him with a false smile.

“Out of breath, huh?” He was bare chested and looked incredible in nothing but a pair of jogging pants. His torso was ripped and his sweats clung to his toned waist. His black hair, normally styled to perfection, was disheveled and hung loose on his forehead. Full lips turned up at the corners in a familiar smirk as his eyes met mine. It took everything I had in me not to lunge at him.

“Screw you, buddy,” I said, walking past him.

“I’ve got something for that mouth of yours,” he said, swatting my ass hard as he closed the door behind me.

“This place is beautiful,” I said, taking a look around. The hardwood floors were, of course, antique and the house itself looked to be restored. There were modern furnishings and it had an amazing homey feel to it. “Whose is it?”

He furrowed his brows together and tilted his head. “Mine.”

“Oh,” I said, feeling my cheeks heat, “it’s just…I didn’t picture you in a place like this.”

“Uh huh, let me guess, a high rise with stainless steel appliances and fur covered floors?” He was laughing at me again.

“I really don’t like you right now,” I said honestly, walking past him to take a tour. A walk around downstairs revealed two large living areas, a study, and a huge kitchen. I took the first step of the staircase and was stopped short.

“Let’s keep it down here for now.” He gave me a stern look and I crossed my arms.

“You hiding a wife up there?”

He crossed his in reply, his biceps bulging as my mouth went dry. “Depends, are you hiding a husband?”

“I told you about my husband,” I said, cowering under his glare.

“I want to believe you, I do, but a weekend trip, Violet?”

Was this why I hadn’t heard from him in a week?

“I went to my mother’s. I didn’t think you’d care,” I said, shrugging.

“Do you live with him still?”

My lie came quickly. I couldn’t lose Rhys, and Alex would be gone soon, anyway. “No.”

“Alright,” he said, eyeing me appreciatively. He closed the gap between us and yanked my shirt over my head.

“Why are you half-dressed and what are we doing today?” I said, half laughing as he tugged my jeans down.

“We are working out,” he said enthusiastically.

“Uh, Rhys, it’s Sunday, which is technically a day of rest. It’s God’s law.”

“Lady, you might have to pray for forgiveness for the kind of workout you are about to get.”

I shut up, because I wanted him, because the urge to reach out and kiss him was killing me. We didn’t share like that and I couldn’t show him how much I’d missed him, though my treacherous body gave me away.

When he had me naked, he pointed to a large solid oak coffee table. “On all fours,” he barked, picking up my clothes and laying them neatly on the stairs.

Walking over to the table, I did what he asked, a little embarrassed at the setting. His blinds were closed, but I felt completely vulnerable, ass in the air. It was getting chilly and being in an old drafty house had me covered in goose bumps. Rhys came back a few minutes later with a small yellow box and set it beside me on the table. I was intrigued.

He sat on his couch as I waited on all fours, giving him a strange look when he turned his TV to a college football game. He stretched an arm behind him, holding his head with his hand. Minutes passed as he watched the game looking completely relaxed.