Page 27

The sound of the shower turning on forced my eyes to pry apart. The earthy scent of Rhys’ aftershave clung to the sheets, alluring, awakening my mind. Stretching my limbs, I grimaced as the wound in my shoulder burned and made itself known. The ache between my thighs, on the other hand, deliciously reminded me of what had occurred last night.

A soft groan escaped my swollen lips. Forcing myself up, I yanked the blankets up to shield my nakedness as Rhys strolled into the bedroom. The azure in his eyes was brighter this morning. They darkened as he leaned back against the doorframe, folding heavily tattooed arms over his ample, muscular chest.

Lifting my hand, I pushed the tousled, messy curls out of my face. A smile played at the corner of his lips as he silently looked over my bedraggled appearance. Silence stretched between us as he pushed from the wall, slowly strolling toward the bed.

“I was right,” he rumbled huskily.

“Huh?” I asked, forehead scrunching up with the confusion fluttering through my mind.

“I was right,” he repeated as he paused beside the bed, then traced his finger over my cheek. “You look better in my bed wearing only my sheets.”

Images of us throughout the long, pleasurable night played through my mind. It created a pool of heat in my lower abdomen, twisting its way up my chest to kiss my cheeks with embarrassment.

Rhys’ dark, wicked laughter caused a pulse to begin throbbing between my thighs. Swallowing as I sought to push the thoughts from my mind, I felt my grip tightening on the sheets. Capturing my lip between my teeth, I struggled to find something to say. Anything was better than sitting like a lump on a log.

“Remington,” Rhys hissed as his eyes darkened. He snorted as he shoved his fingers through his dark, damp hair. “Regret doesn’t go with the sheets you’re wearing.”

“I don’t regret what we did last night,” I admitted sheepishly.

His eyes thinned, then studied my face. Sucking his bottom lip between his teeth, he sat on the edge of the bed, then exhaled a stuttered breath of air. “Yet,” he muttered as he pushed his long fingers through his disheveled hair.

Sucking my bottom lip between my teeth, I bit down to prevent saying exactly how much I hadn’t minded fucking him. Closing my eyes, I tried to count through multiple things I regretted. The thing was, Rhys wasn’t on that lengthy list. A night of sinfully delicious sex with the hottest prick I’d ever met wasn’t on it, either.

“Whatever, Rhys.”

If he wanted to assume I’d regret it later, whatever. That was his problem. Not mine. At the disgruntled sound he produced, my eyelashes fluttered open in time to see his pretty azure eyes rolling.

Chewing my lip, I sat up without concealing my nakedness. Slipping my feet over the edge, I scooted off the edge of the bed, standing before him with nothing more than a smile on.

The heat in his gaze emboldened me. I’d failed to see the way he’d looked at me before he’d ripped my heart from my chest. I’d be damned if I failed to notice the shit Nyota, Nyx, and the men told me I’d been blind to before.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I need to use the bathroom. Get over your pity party or the regret that you, yourself, are experiencing. You don’t get to tell me how I feel or what I’ll feel later. I enjoyed your cock. It was very nice, and this is me thanking you for satisfying my needs.” Flipping my hair over my shoulder, I took a step toward the bathroom, only for him to yank me back into the heat of his body.

“I assure you that I don’t regret what we did last night. I am already looking forward to tonight, Love.” Pressing the truth of his statement into the small of my back, he growled.

Heat blossomed in my abdomen, even as goosebumps spread over my skin. My nipples hardened as I became aroused by the idea. The whisper of dark, masculine laughter against the back of my neck sent a shiver of anticipation rushing down my spine, stopping only when it reached my toes.

“Careful, Silversmith. I might start thinking you like being fucked by me.” His palm slid down my abdomen, cradling where his child grew within me. “I’d hate to get the wrong impression here.”

A smile slowly spread over my lips as I felt his curving against my neck. “I’d hate to give you the wrong impression, Van Helsing.”

“Go tend to your needs. Shower, then come to the kitchen. Your breakfast is growing cold,” he murmured into my hair, then stepped back, leaving me bereft without the heat of his body.

“I don’t have anything to wear to breakfast.” Being naked in the bedroom was one thing, but being naked outside of it? That was entirely a different thing. I had no plan of parading myself around his living quarters naked.

“Your things are in the same closet as mine, Love.” My brow creased as I turned, waiting for him to explain. Rhys chuckled, then strode toward me, nodding at the closet. Once he’d passed where I stood with a perplexed look on my face, I trailed behind him.

Inside the closet, he paused beside a panel. Pushing a pink button, the sounds of gears turning jerked my focus toward the right side where his things had been yesterday. An array of feminine garments from blouses, dresses, and pants hung from multiple hangers. Beneath them, a bevy of various footwear sat.

“How?” I questioned with confusion, forcing the skin between my brows to knit together. “When?” How had he moved his things? Better yet, when had he done it?

“I don’t need sleep.” Marching toward the wardrobe, he grabbed a cream-colored gown from a hanger, then rummaged through the top drawer of a delicate dresser. “I’ve imagined you wearing this gown since I asked Nyota to purchase it, Love.”

Tucking a stray curl behind my ear, I felt the heat burning my cheeks. “You planned on me returning to you?”

Without any remorse, he chuckled. “One way or another, I intended for you to return to me, Remi. You’re my silver, meaning we belong with one another.” Rhys’ wide shoulders lifted, then dropped as if it mattered little to him how I’d returned.

“What—exactly?” Rhys hadn’t intended to elaborate on what he’d meant, but I needed him to spell it out for me.

“Either in my bed or at my side.”

“So as your whore or your slave?” I hissed as embarrassment quickly turned to anger.

Mirth played over his handsome features. “You’re far from being a whore,” stepping closer, he held the dress out for me to take from him. “I wouldn’t mind you being my pretty little sex slave. Though, I wouldn’t mind playing one for you either, Remington.” Lowering his mouth to my ear, he pushed his lips against it, fanning it with his heated breath. “I’d be a good boy for you and eat that lovely pussy until you come all over my lips like a good girl.” His hand gripped my hip, then pulled me into the heat of his body. Long, tapered fingers trailed over my side. “I’d lick every drop up until that lovely, messy cunt was clean before I made a new mess of it.”

The air in my lungs escaped as a needy whimper. “You have a filthy mouth.” The glint in his eye was lust, pure and simple. It caused my inner walls to clench with renewed need.

“Careful, Love. I like the way your pretty eyes light up when I speak filthy to you.” He smacked my ass, then chuckled as he turned on his heel, leaving me staring after him exiting the closet. “Shower, then come to the kitchen. You require sustenance to remain healthy. I’ll not have anyone saying I starved you.” Taking a step toward him, I adjusted the hold on the dress I held, wincing as my shoulder burned. “Move your ass.”

“Get out of my way and I will,” I snapped puckishly. Rhys paused at the room’s threshold, then turned slowly, leaning his shoulder against it. “Do you intend to watch me bathe?”

“Don’t tempt me, Silversmith.”

Without waiting for permission, I entered the bathroom and hung the gown on the hook. Turning toward the doorway, I felt my chest deflate at finding it empty of the irksome, confusing man who’d consumed my mind since the day I’d left this place right up until I returned.

Rhys was up to something. What that was, I was uncertain. I didn’t regret spending the night with him. I hadn’t lied about my feelings about that. The thing was, I didn’t have to forgive him to fuck him. Sure, I didn’t find it as easy to remove emotion from sex, but I knew how I felt about him, even if I didn’t entirely forgive him.

I needed to figure out if Nyota was okay, then ask to see Nyx. I needed my girls back with me. Having them back would allow me to think without the weight of not knowing their fates weighing down on me.

The first thing I needed to do was shower, then eat. Once I did that, I’d ask about seeing Nyx. She’d more than likely know more about Nyota than Rhys would willingly tell me about her. Once I had done that, I’d figure out how to deal with Rhys.