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|Strings of the Heart(Runaway Train #3) by Katie Ashley|
She nodded. “He tried for so long to close himself off to other people—not to let them see his weaknesses.” A lone tear streaked down her face. “His pain.”
“I see you, Rhys,” she whispered.
My heartbeat thrummed wildly in fear at her statement, causing me to feel like an utter pansy. Christ, what had I done to make it so easy for her to be able to see through all my bullshit? The better question was why she was still sitting beside me after seeing the real me?
As if reading my mind, Allison said, “I see all of you, and I’m not disgusted.”
Not liking the direction the conversation was taking, I rose out of the swing. I needed to put distance between Allison and myself. Things were getting too personal and deep too quickly. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d opened up to anyone like I had with her. It wasn’t enough that she was so compassionate and caring. At the same time, she distracted me by being so f**king hot. At one moment, I wanted to hug her to me for the comfort she could provide. Then at the next, I wanted to peel her sexy-as-hell black dress off that could make a guy spring wood at fifty paces and stroke every inch of her creamy white skin.
“Yeah, well, I think that’s enough for tonight. You have class in the morning, and I need my beauty sleep to gird up strength to deal with my parents.”
After wiping her tear-stained cheeks, Allison bent over and picked up her sexy heels that she had discarded when we sat down. Her eyes held so much emotion that I could tell she was fighting hard to hold it back. “Thank you for inviting me tonight.”
“It’s me that should be thanking you. I might’ve been auctioned off to a cunt, as you called it, if it hadn’t been for you.”
A shadow of a smile played on her lips. “I’m glad I could save the day.”
Without second guessing myself, I leaned in and gave her a hug. As we swayed back and forth, Allison’s hands came up to grip the back of my shirt. Having my arms around her stirred me on both an emotional and physical level. But with her sexy curves pressed against me, I was certainly focusing more on the physical side. She was so delicate, just like the magnolia on the pendant I’d given her. With her scent and softness overwhelming me, my mind railed at me to pull away. All right, ass**le, you have about two seconds to pull away before she feels just how much you’re enjoying copping a feel.
When I finally pried myself away, I smiled at Allison. “I’ll text you about doing movie night soon.”
“I’ll look forward to it.”
After placing a tender kiss on her cheek, I turned and walked away. But even as I put distance between us, I couldn’t shake the feeling of that hug. Even when I lay down that night, I could almost still feel her in my arms.
And that made me scared as hell.
The following two and a half weeks flew by in a whirlwind of school, work, and most importantly, Rhys. We hadn’t spent a day apart since he arrived in Savannah. True to his word, he came to my house the night after the auction for Monty Python and Penis Pizza. He ended up sleeping on the couch because we kept talking and drinking beer long after the movie was over. The second best thing besides Rhys dressed to the nines in a tux was Rhys tangled in blankets with tousled hair while asleep on the couch.
Of course, that night I also experienced a level of mortification I hadn’t known existed. I’d fallen asleep snuggled next to Rhys with the strains of Hugh Jackman singing as Jean Valjean in Les Miserables. The closeness of him, coupled with his smell, had done a number on me as I slipped further and further into dreamland. Amid the foggy wisps of my sub consciousness, I began to dream. As I lay on my bed, Rhys loomed over me, his eyes hungry with lust. I found that not only was he very naked, but I was na**d as well. Rhys’s mouth captured mine with his own. At the feel of his warm lips on my own, I reached up to wrap my arms around his neck, drawing him closer to me. My fingers ran through the silky strands of his hair, as he thrust his tongue into my mouth.
As we continued to kiss, he brought one of his hands up to cup and knead my breast, tweaking the nipple into a hardened peak. I moaned into his mouth, scissoring my legs to get the friction I desperately wanted. Sensing my need, Rhys’s other hand slipped between my thighs. His fingers slid long strokes up and down my wet slit before one finger plunged inside me. “Rhys,” I panted, as one finger became two.
“Allison,” Rhys murmured, as he stared into my eyes with a combative mixture of love and lust.
I cupped his cheeks in my hands, feeling the stubble along his skin. I wanted nothing more to feel that stubble grazing the inside of my thighs as he went down on me. As his fingers pumped in and out of me, I arched my h*ps in time. “Please, please,” I begged.
“Allison,” Rhys repeated, his free hand shaking my shoulder. When his fingers disappeared from inside me, I cried out in frustration.
“No, don’t stop!”
He started shaking me harder and harder until my eyes snapped open. Rhys stared down at me, not with lust, but with concern. “Allison, wake up. You’re having a nightmare.”
“Oh…my…God,” I muttered, as my hands came up to cover my cheeks that blazed with humiliation. How was it possible I had just been having a sex dream about Rhys as he lay right next to me? I wanted to bolt from the couch and lock myself in my room, but I remained paralyzed on the couch.
“Are you okay?” Rhys asked.
“Fine. Just fine,” I muttered behind my hands.