Page 18

Amelia---Hands

“Can we try something?”

I stare at Rhodes from my spot on the couch. He had invited me over for brunch and a movie, something that I couldn’t refuse. Brunch is my favorite and being able to snuggle with Rhodes? All the better. He’s standing in front of me, those jeans hugging him in the best way, and his white t-shirt is stretched across his body.

“Try something?” My head tilts at his question, and he has my interest peaked.

“I have an idea to help you feel more comfortable around me, with us being close.”

Setting the still-warm mug of tea on the side table, I pull the cuff of my sweatshirt over my hands, picking at the hem.“Rhodes, I’m not uncomfortable,” I whisper. He crouches in front of me, taking my hands in his and stopping me from plucking the strings dangling from the fabric.

“Amelia,” his blue eyes soft as he considers me, “I want to make sure you trust me and that we can do all the things you want. This is me, helping.”

I take a deep breath, trying to settle my instinct to fight back. Rhodes is silent, giving me the room to process the thoughts running through my head. I want him like a moth wants the flame. I need his touch in a way that is unholy. I meet his unwavering gaze and something in it reassures me.

“Okay.”

“You say stop, I stop, okay? You say stop and everything will stop.”

There is a part of me that wants to hesitate, wants to hold onto the doubt, because my past has taught me that men don’t understand the word he’s given me as a safety net. I can’t let those skeletons dance in the light and I will not deny myself this.

As I nod my head in agreement, I see one corner of his mouth tick up into a grin.

“I need words, Amelia.”

“Okay, Rhodes. If I say stop, you’ll stop.” I look up as he stands, his hands reaching for mine and he leads me down the hall.

Rhodes’ home is small but cozy. It definitely has a bachelor feel to it, but there are touches of softness here too. His hallway is dimmed, and as we reach a door at the end of the hall, my heart is racing. Surely he doesn’t mean that we’re going to have sex, does he? I’m not ready for that. My mouth goes dry before I tug on his hand, bringing him to a halt. Rhodes turns back to face me, a knowing look on his face—one without judgment, but filled with understanding instead.

“We aren’t taking our clothes off, baby. You aren’t there yet, and that is okay, I swear.”

He pushes the door open to reveal a large bed covered in down-filled blankets and the softest, most plush-looking pillows I’ve ever seen. The bed is set in a wooden frame, with a slotted headboard. I take two steps in before I hear a clicking behind me, telling me the door has closed. The tension in the air is heavy and I feel him behind me.

“So what is this idea of yours?” I murmur, my voice quivering slightly.

Rhodes walks in front of me and removes a blue satin band from his pocket. Where did that come from? My pulse races as I watch him loop it around a slat in the headboard, forming a makeshift cuff, before Rhodes turns back to me.

“You only start to panic when you can’t escape while pinned. I don’t know if it is the weight against this gorgeous body, or if it is being contained, but I want to figure it out, Amelia.” A hand brushes my cheek and I lean into the caress. “Do you want to play, baby?”

“Play?”

Rhodes’ eyes glow, reminding me of the last glow of sunset against the waves of water. My cheek is now cradled in his palm, the feeling tethering me to the present. “I just want to play, Amelia. For you to feel good. ”

I lick my lips before exhaling the breath I’ve been holding.

“Yes.”

His blue eyes light up with excitement and it soothes my nerves. His face comes closer to mine, our noses brushing. “I am in absolutely no hurry, kochanie . It is you and me.” My breath catches in my throat at the mention of him being patient.

Rhodes Alexander is the antithesis of every man I’ve endured.

“Lay back on the bed and place your head on a pillow.” My hands are shaking as I climb on the bed, his mattress giving under my weight and I am made aware of just how much space I must take up. I freeze.

“You okay, baby?” I’m silent as he comes closer. “I cannot wait to see that beautiful hair splayed across my pillow. Gods, the sight you are right now. Remember, we can stop at any moment. You have the power here, baby.”

His words drown the negative thoughts as I flop onto my back, placing my hands on the squishy part of my stomach. I am fully clothed in a sweatshirt and bike shorts. Yet, I am still incredibly aware of my body. I don’t know how long I stare at the ceiling before I feel a hand run along my arm. I turn my head to trace his movement, and I tense when he reaches my wrist, anxiety building as Rhodes places it above my head.

“Stay.”

His touch ghosts my shoulder, tracing my curves down until he reaches my other hand. I feel the stretch in my body as my back arches into the position he’s placing me in. Both hands are now resting atop my head, and I bite my bottom lip in anticipation of what he’ll do next.

“Grab the loop, kochanie .” I arch more, my fingertips grazing the fabric until they take hold.

“That’s a good girl, baby.” The man is still standing on the side of the bed, and I am at his mercy. “Do you know how breathtaking you look in my bed?” His voice is soft and laden with gravel. “You are such a courageous goddess. I cannot wait to worship at your altar.”

I am burning, the trails left by his touch igniting my skin. I ache in places I refuse to acknowledge, and despite my alarm bells starting to sound, there is a piece of my soul which knows I am safe here. His fingers run down my body, mapping me, and the room shrinks from the intimacy.

“Are you doing okay?”

“Yes,” I answer. It’s an honest one, but also, I’m okay because I’m not pinned. I could easily release my hold on the fabric loop and be fine.

“Good.” I feel the bed dip and his knees are now against my thigh as he peers down at me. “Let’s up the ante, shall we? You say stop, we stop. Understood?”

I close my eyes and murmur a soft acceptance.

“Louder, Amelia.”

My eyes gently close as I repeat myself, more firmly this time. “I understand.”

“Eyes, Amelia. I need your eyes.” I open them, finding his face closer now. There are flecks in his eyes, and I feel my soul quiet. “Good girl,” Rhodes pauses, shifting his weight. “I am going to straddle your legs, okay? I will not put any weight on you yet. You can get out, I promise.”

“Okay,” I say softly. I feel the bundle of nerves tighten in my core as Rhodes lifts one leg, draping it across my shins. I swallow my fear hard. It is as if I am being choked by my own demons. There is not a single additional pound on my body and I already want out. I feel pinned, and I am without a blade, not a defense in reach.

“Take a breath for me. Slow.”

I do it.

“There you go. You can still get out. There is nothing holding you down.” I flex my fingers and my brain tells me he’s right. I am able to get myself out from under him if I need to. “I’m going to kiss you now, Amelia. You are okay.” His lips meet mine and I sigh into the kiss. I feel him lick along my lips, asking permission to deepen it, and I would be a fool to deny him. I moan into his mouth, tracing his tongue with mine. Rhodes is a demanding kisser; his passion sparks an ember in my belly, and I groan, my hips bucking upward to meet air.

I need more. I want more.

There is a war brewing in my head. I am caught between the fear lingering in the shadows and my desire to feel him rock against me. Rhodes breaks from my swollen mouth, allowing me to catch my breath, as he places kisses along my neck. My hands white-knuckle the satin above.

The mattress sinks beneath me and I feel a testing of weight against my body. Slight at first, then increasing as Rhodes watches my reaction. “Still okay?”

I nod, not trusting myself to break if I speak. He comes closer and I notice a lock of hair falling into his face. I wish I could push it back and then slide my fingers into his hair, pulling him to me. I want my nails to scrape along his scalp, down his spine. I wish I could be consumed.

If only.

Just before he is completely pressed to me, he pauses and waits.

“I’m, I’m okay I—”

“We can stop,” he says gently. I don’t want to stop. I can feel my heart beating within its cage and I know my breaths are shallow. I feel the burn in my grip, aware of the way I am grasping the blue satin. I shake my head against the pillow, praying to the heavens above he doesn’t end it here.

“No, please.” I flex my fingers and readjust my grip, swallowing hard.

I know I’m forcing my body to accept this pain, that this will be one I choose willingly. I will demand my bones to yield, and my mind to quiet, if it means I get to have him this way. Even if it means breaking myself, I will feel the tanned skin running the curves of my body as his lips map their way south. I want the snap of his hips to make my head crash into the nearest wall, our ragged breaths composing a symphony.

“Please. Rhodes, please.”

He runs his fingers along my brow, down my nose, and finally grazing my cheek; the look in his eyes is not pity but sadness. I see it for a moment and then it is replaced with determination.

“Okay.” He takes a deep breath and releases it before dropping to his forearms. My breath catches in my throat and Rhodes meets my eyes one last time before he moves the final inch. He lays his body flush against mine and, despite the molten lust in my bones, my mind is starting to take me back to that night I was broken. The walls are closing in, fear dancing in the shadows, and I can hear the voices— their voices— again. I buck against him, shoving against the weight pinning me, and my hands fly from the looped satin.

“Stop,” I shout, chest heaving as my eyes close in shame. I feel his weight lift from me. I can barely contain the tears dotting my vision. I wrap my arms around my knees, shaking and wanting to be incredibly small right now. The hold I have on my legs isn’t tight enough, the adrenaline now coursing through my veins makes me shake. I open my eyes, but I don’t see him. I rock back and forth, staring at a blank spot on the wall.

“Where are you, kochanie ?” His voice is but a whisper against the demons banging at my gates, and I cannot let them find him. “Come back to me, Amelia. You are okay, baby. You did so well.”

No, I didn’t, Rhodes. I couldn’t handle this. You put all the power in my hand, and I fucking failed.

There is warmth encircling me now, and I want to stay here—where it is safe. My demons can’t find me if I stay. “Where are you?” A pattern is being drawn on my knee, soothing and grounding; I smell him, the mixture of leather and cloves calling me home.

“I…” I hesitate, knowing that whatever I tell him, it won’t be enough. “I panicked. Gods, I’m so sorry.”

“I’m not sorry. You did what I told you to do. Kochanie , you are safe. I don’t know where you went, baby, but you are here with me now.” He kisses the top of my head, and I feel the tension start to ebb. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” I whisper. “I just want to move past this and not freak out. Why is that so damn hard?” I lean against his firm torso, breathing deeply. “Thank you for listening when I said ‘stop.’” He tenses behind me. I know Rhodes wants to ask a question I am not ready to answer. I don’t know how long we sit like this, but eventually, I fidget and move away from him, turning so that I can see his face. “I need to try again. I have to.” I meet his eyes, hoping he won’t deny me this. “Please.” There is hesitation written along his features and for a brief moment, I think he will deny me. I don’t want to leave this bed, leave him right now.

“Amelia,” he starts, but I interrupt him with a searing kiss. My hands wrap around his neck, curling my fingers into his hair as I pull us back against the bedding. He is nestled in between my thighs, and I let out an exhale as he settles against me.