Page 116 of Surprisingly Us

Just like last night, lust and rage are battling it out. My body is already caving into the feeling of him against me, loving the way his luxurious scent makes my nipples pebble beneath my tank top.

My head spins. I’m sure it’s dehydration from a strenuous practice session. I just need some electrolytes and I’ll be fine.

Finally, my brain takes the lead.

My hands move to his chest to push him off. “What are you—”

That’s when I see several men on the sidewalk with cameras. Rhys isn’t trying to make a move on me, he’s shielding me from the photographers.

Rhys drops his forehead to mine. “There are photographers watching us.”

I can see the struggle on his face. He wants me to know he’s taking our argument seriously but also trying to put on a happy façade for the nosy photographers.

“I see them,” I whisper, my arms instinctively wrapping behind Rhys’s neck to pull him closer. “How do they keep finding us?”

“I don’t know.” He pulls away slightly and I can see a worry line forming between Rhys’s brows. It only makes him more handsome. “It’s their job, I guess.”

I’m still mad at Rhys, but in this moment, all my frustration is redirected toward the paps that are trailing us.

They might have already captured Rhys and me arguing, but if they’re still lurking here, that means he wants to see how the argument ends. If I yell at Rhys and walk off, that will be a juicy tidbit for the media to run with. I refuse to give those photographers what they want.

Before I can change my mind, I lift on my toes and seal my mouth to Rhys’s.

He’s surprised, but he catches on quickly, matching my determined kiss with hot, hungry kisses of his own.

Rhys’s hand wraps around my waist. Possessive and firm. Just how his tongue had been between my thighs last night.

At the memory, I moan into Rhys’s mouth.

I might be embarrassed but I’m going to play that one off as being a really good actor. And the fact that he can’t say shit to me right now because he’s in hot water and I’m saving his ass.

Look at the newly engaged couple sucking each other’s faces off.

Rhys breaks the kiss. “Get in the car,” he rumbles against my ear.

The moment we’re safe in the backseat of the SUV, I scoot away from him. The need to pretend out there thoroughly confused my body and now I need some space.

“Thank you.” He presses his lips together. They’re still wet from our kiss, and I can’t stop staring at them.

I nod, then look away, staring at the leather seat in front of me, willing my breathing to calm so it doesn’t sound like I’m hyperventilating.

“What can I do? What will convince you to keep our arrangement?” he asks.

“Last night—" I begin.

“I shouldn’t have let things go that far between us. Not when you had been drinking.”

I scoff, because how dare he take credit for my bad decisions.

“I wasn’t drunk. And you didn’t force me onto my knees.”

Our eyes lock and the memories come rushing back. My hand stroking his thick cock. The weight of it on my tongue. The warm saltiness of his pre-cum as I sucked him to the back of my throat.

His throat bobs as he swallows. “It doesn’t matter. It was a mistake on my part. And I won’t touch you again,” he says adamantly. “Only in public. Like we agreed. When necessary for appearances.”

I open my mouth to argue. To tell him that’s the last thing I want.

But his stance on the subject makes me hesitate. Either he regrets touching me or he thinks I regret it. Admitting I want more feels like a risk my sensitive heart can’t take right now.

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