Page 109 of Surprisingly Us

Beneath the soft cotton of Rhys’s t-shirt, my nipples are hard points, sensitive and achy. I imagine how good it would feel to have Rhys’s mouth on them.

I drop my mouth to his chest, pressing a kiss over his left pec. At the same time my thumb teases over his nipple.

Above me, a muffled groan escapes his throat.

It’s faint, like he managed to smother most of the sound on its way out and shove it back down, but it still causes a tug in my lower belly, the needy ache between my thighs to intensify.

The alcohol that was making me bold is starting to lose its effect and I’m wondering if I have the courage to keep going. But all I have to do is draw on the frustration and hurt from earlier tonight and my confidence soars again. I know what I want from Rhys and I’m going to seize this moment just like he did when he fake proposed to me tonight.

I take his hand from his side and place it over my breast.

His jaw clenches, followed by the bob of his Adam’s apple.

He’s not squeezing me, but I can feel the tension in his fingers. His entire body is coiled tightly.

“Show me, Rhys.”

CHAPTER 32

Rhys

“Show me, Rhys.” Those three words are now seared into my brain.

Feeling Lettie’s breast under my palm sucks the air right out of my lungs. It seems impossible that’s what she wants when she’s angry with me about the proposal. She has every right to be, but this, right now, feels different.

The palm covering Lettie’s breast is burning. I’m trying to shut my brain off. To stay in this moment without feeling anything. Without feelingher. But the more I try to distance myself, the more I’m aware of every sensation.

Lettie’s body is lithe and muscular. As a professional athlete, she’s in phenomenal shape. Underneath my palm, she’s so fucking soft. The hardened peak of her nipple teases through the cotton of the shirt she’s wearing.My shirt. I didn’t realize seeing her in my old NYU shirt would be such a turn on.

This isn’t part of the plan, but neither was an engagement.

Lettie’s palms rake over my chest, her finger pads teasing their way down my abs.

“Or should I show you?” she whispers.

She quirks her lips to one side, her cheekbones lift with the movement. She’s heartachingly beautiful. I’m spellbound by the sight of her, yet there are alarms going off in my head.

Do something. Take control.

But I can’t. I’ve lost the ability to steer this ship. Lettie’s a siren pulling me toward the shore and all I can do is stand here and watch.

She slowly drops to her knees. The ring I put on her finger earlier catches the light from the lamp as her hand reaches for my belt. The alarm is getting louder, yet I’m too captivated by the sight of her looking up at me to react. I’m frozen as I watch her eyes drop to where her hand is lowering my zipper.

It’s a game of chicken. How far will I let her go? How much restraint do I have?

She’s the one on her knees, yet the sight of her there makes me feel powerless.

Slowly, she lowers the waistband of my boxer-briefs to expose me.

There was never a question if I’d be hard for her, but her eyes widen like she’s fascinated by the sight.

On our first date when she’d learned I had a piercing, she’d been flustered, but I also saw curiosity in her eyes. She’s got the same look on her face now as her thumb circles around my crown before dropping to the metal barbell below.

With the fingers of one hand still exploring my piercing, her other hand wraps around my length to apply more pressure before she strokes me. My hips jolt forward.

Fuck me.

“Lettie.” I groan, knowing I shouldn’t let her do this. Afraid she’ll find out just how much power her touch wields against me. How easily I could lose control with her.

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