Page 67 of Until Tomorrow (Love Doesn’t Cure All: The Ashwood Duet #1)

Eva

He wanted to get ice cream, and I wanted to see his studio.

We compromised by getting ice cream and then going on to his studio.

As much as I enjoyed ice cream, I was more excited to see his art.

It was the biggest thing he hadn’t shared with me, and the one I wanted to see the most. I wanted to know his creative side personally.

What made him tick? What made him bare his soul on a canvas or in a sculpture?

This side of Rhett fascinated me.

“Okay,” he paused in opening the door to his studio to face me, “for the record, I didn’t know we were coming here. And it’s a mess.”

“It’s a studio,” I said. “I expect it to be nothing but creative chaos.”

“Mine’s fucking organized when I’m not in the middle of working on something,” Rhett retorted. “If I didn’t have a show next month, it’d be pristine as fuck. I don’t like my mediums mixing.”

“Okay,” I replied.

“Okay.” He nodded. “I’m not used to letting people in here.”

“Not even Jaye?”

“Usually, I just schedule a pickup, and no one enters my space.”

“We don’t have to go in—”

“No, no. I want to,” he interrupted. “Just don’t hold my chaos against me.”

“I’ll send you pictures of the rainbow that threw up on my home later, so we’re even,” I replied and offered him a bright smile. He opened the door, walking in and flipping a switch. The overhead lighting illuminated the massive space. I walked in after him, unable to contain my awe.

Rhett stuck quietly to the doorway, hands in his pockets. The weight of his gaze was heavy on my back as I let my curiosity take over—let myself explore this part of him.

Several sculptures took up the bulk of the space, each in varying stages of being finished.

It was wildly fascinating to see the wires and stands used along with hunks of clay he worked on.

I slipped off my heels as they stuck on the plastic he’d laid out everywhere and wandered through the open space.

Rhett under-sold just how impressive his art was—and not just the creative end, but the business end as well. It was obvious he was flourishing from the ideas and notes he had tacked up on one wall to the carefully filled-out calendar he kept.

The far corner caught my attention, where several canvases lined the wall and one sat on a large easel. But the painting…

My breath caught in my throat as I moved closer. The painting depicted me in shades of blues and grays and reds and black—all coming together in a gorgeous painting of my face with musical notes entwined in my wild hair.

“When did you do this?” I asked in awe. The painting was nothing short of incredible. Was this really how he saw me?

“After you bailed me out of jail,” he whispered. That long ago? The warmth of his body invaded mine when he stepped up close behind me. “I just couldn’t get you out of my fucking head.”

His fingers combed through my hair as he gathered it in one hand, moving it over one shoulder. His lips touched the side of my neck—gentle and featherlight.

“It’s beautiful,” I managed to say, my eyes sliding shut. Beautiful didn’t begin to describe the painting. My head tipped back against his shoulder, and I moaned as his teeth grazed my ear.

“That painting fails to capture just how beautiful you are, Eva,” Rhett murmured against my skin. I blushed because that was exactly what this man did to me. “Stay the night with me.”

I nodded, at a loss for words. I wanted that.

Rhe tt’s house was fifteen minutes outside the city in a neighborhood where the houses were closer, kids played across lawns, and the community was busy. Even as he pulled into the short drive, kids barreled down the street on their bikes, screaming and yelling as they did.

“This is a nice neighborhood,” I commented.

I was desperate to find anything to focus on that didn’t involve him naked.

Unfortunately, that was all my brain could focus on.

It didn’t help at all that he’d spent the whole fifteen-minute drive with his hand up my skirt.

Every touch from him was teasing, never quite getting me there and leaving me a wanting mess.

“I periodically stand outside and yell at them to get off my fucking lawn,” Rhett said. Doubtful.

“Is that before or after you give them sidewalk chalk and teach them how to draw?” I asked when I opened the door and caught sight of all the art on the sidewalk.

“Teach them?” he scoffed. “I did all of these.”

“You drew a three-legged Cookie Monster eating a carrot?”

“Is there any other way to draw Cookie Monster?”

“Clearly not.” I laughed. God, I adored him. I stood, and my legs trembled slightly, making me falter. I clung to the door for a brief moment as I gained my bearings.

“Something wrong, spark plug?” That devious smile on his handsome face did nothing to help the heated situation between my thighs, but I wasn’t giving him the satisfaction.

“Not at all!” I kept my chin high as I followed him to the front door. It took way too much effort to keep my legs from shaking. Damn man.

“Evening, Rhett!” a voice called out just as he put the keys in the door.

“Hello, Enzo,” he greeted back. He waved and glanced at his neighbor.

“How are you tonight?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I grumbled. Rhett glanced at me, that smile on his face widening. He took the key out of the door and gave nosy Enzo his full attention.

“It’s going great,” he replied. “How are you?”

“Oh, you know how it is.”

“No, I don’t,” Rhett told him. Cheeky man. I reached out and pinched him in the ass hard enough to make him lurch forward with a surprised sound.

“You good over there?” Enzo asked. He craned his neck for a better look at what was happening, being far too nosy for his own good.

“ Just fine,” he said while pinning me with a none-too-impressed stare. I just smiled. “Have a good night, Enzo.”

“Oh! We have a guy coming out to look at the fence line—”

“Just email me, Enzo,” Rhett interrupted. He opened the door and ushered me inside.

My heels clicked on the floor as I wandered deeper into the open-concept house he had.

He’d underplayed the niceness of his house—though it did lack that lived-in feel.

It had the same magazine quality I was used to, which made sense, considering he spent most of his time in the city.

Still, the dark leather and dusty gray hardwood were a gorgeous combination.

“We need to talk, spark plug.” That dark little growl in his voice did wicked things to my arousal. He hooked a finger, beckoning me closer, but I kicked off my heels as I took a step back. “I was just talking to my neighbor. All you had to do was behave for one minute.”

“You were ignoring me,” I retorted. For good measure, I fluttered my lashes at him.

“Pretty as you are, spark plug, that won’t work,” he said. When he started toward me, I put more distance between us. “Not this time.”

“And what?” I asked. “Are you going to punish me?”

“Not my thing. But I plan to fuck you until you don’t know your own damn name. The only name you’ll know is mine as you scream it for the whole damn neighborhood to hear.”

“ Oh. ” My eyes widened slightly. How was that a bad thing? In fact, I was a fan of the idea. “I’m not seeing an issue with that.”

“Maybe not, but there will be a point where you think you want to stop—where you’ve had a few orgasms and you’re feeling good—but I’m not stopping,” Rhett said, continuing to stalk toward me in the dark of his house.

My pulse thrummed against my neck with anticipation.

There was something sinfully hot about him like this.

“I’m not stopping until my sheets are soaked with your cum and you can’t walk without feeling everything I’ve done to you for the next week.

I’m going to use my hands, my tongue, and my cock to make you come more times than you thought possible.

And when you beg me to stop—when you beg me for a break—I won’t give it to you.

I promise I’ll make you come even harder just for asking. ”

“ Oh… ”

“Pick a safeword, Eva.”

“ Kiwi.” Why kiwi? I didn’t have a clue. It was the first thing that popped into my head.

“Good girl.” His praise was damn near enough to send me over the edge. “Use it only if you absolutely need me to stop, got it?”

I just nodded. The fire in his gray eyes was intoxicating and intense.

I believed every word he said—I wanted every single one of them.

His hand lashed out and grabbed me around the throat, eliciting a tiny moan from me.

With the firm grip he had on me, he walked me closer to him. Not that he had to try hard.

“Take off your dress,” he ordered. When I opened my mouth, he cut me off, “Take off your dress or I’m ripping it off you.”

Reaching behind me, I slid down the zipper of my dress. His hold never loosened as he watched the way I pushed it down to the floor and kicked it away. I felt every inch of his gaze as he drank me in. How he looked at me was its own kind of aphrodisiac. A high I couldn’t get enough of it.

“Spark plug,” he began when I lowered down to my knees in front of him. Holding his gaze, I tugged open his belt and undid his pants. He sucked in a sharp breath as my hand closed around his hard cock.

“Let me take care of you,” I whispered as I stroked him root to tip.

Every time we were together, Rhett spent more time worshiping me than worrying about his own needs.

His brand of worship may have included bruises, bites, and dirty words, but I was always left satisfied and feeling cherished. I wanted him to feel that too.

Before he could say anything, I ran the flat of my tongue over the length of him. I took my time, tracing the petite pearls lining his shaft. His hand hit the wall as he groaned, the sound loud in the dark house.

“That’s right, baby,” I said softly and swirled my tongue around the crown of his dick. “Let me worship your cock.”

“You can’t say shit like that, spark plug,” Rhett murmured. Despite his words, his fingers combed through my hair and dug into the back of my skull. His hips eased forward, and his cock glided over my tongue.

The ridges of his pearls were fascinating—the texture unlike anything I’d ever experienced.

It heightened the experience, and not just for me.

I explored them with my tongue—tracing them, applying pressure, testing how they moved.

The sounds he made were downright feral.

I smiled around him. It was like having a magic button to make him lose control.

Rhett wasn’t small in any capacity—long and thick. A challenge to be conquered. I worked his pulsing cock as if it was my job. My fingers fanned over h is strong thighs as I steadied myself, my clit throbbing with a need to be touched. The need for him was borderline unbearable.

With every pass, I took more of him in my mouth until he hit the back of my throat and kept going. I moaned around his dick and swallowed, enjoying the sharp hiss he let out.

His breath came faster while his thrusts increased in intensity until I was holding on.

Let him use me. The fist in my hair was brutal, and his pace was relentless as he fucked my mouth.

Tears gathered on my lower lashes, and my nails dug into his thighs.

Grunting, groaning, his dirty words. I took whatever he gave me.

“ Fuck ,” he rasped. “If you don’t tell me to stop, spark plug, I’m going to fill that pretty little mouth of yours with cum.”

I wanted that. I wanted to watch him come undone—to taste him. My head bobbed faster up and down on his cock. Sucking, licking, pushing him past the back of my throat.

His hips snapped forward while his hand dragged my mouth down the full length of him. His dick pulsated over my tongue, and cum spilled down my throat as he came with a loud moan. I swallowed every drop, wasting nothing, before I slid off of him.

“Up, Eva,” he ordered, and I went without question.

“Rhett!” I yelped as he yanked me clean off the floor, tossing me over his shoulder as if I weighed nothing and his pants were hanging around his thighs. I struggled to get down. His teeth sank into my ass with a sexy growl.

“Save your strength, spark plug,” Rhett warned. “You’re going to need it.”