Page 43 of Unforgivable

“I tried to convince myself I didn't, but the truth was I had liked Connor for years at that point. I had known he was Bi since freshman year, but he had never been with a guy before, so I didn't allow myself to hope he'd be with me. Then we started fooling around and being together like that, and I thought he'd eventually fall for me.”

“I'm guessing he didn't feel the same way?” I asked cautiously, not wanting him to stop opening up to me.

Rhys gave me a sad smile. “Not all best friends are meant to be lovers,” he said sullenly. “Once we left for college, he became more distant and we only saw each other a couple times that year when weboth went home for holidays and stuff. Then sometime before our sophomore year, he met this girl Natalie and just…stopped talking to me. He told me about her after a few dates and promised to text me when he could, but then I never heard from him again. I think us throwing sex into the mix ultimately ruined our friendship.”

Seeing the despondency on his face had my nostrils flaring and my fists clenching reflexively. I suddenly recognized that burning, suffocating feeling in my chest as jealousy. Had I ever been jealous in my life? I couldn't think of a single instance, but there was little doubt that what I was feeling was a crushing envy for this dickhead who had taken Rhys' love and body and tossed him to the side like he meant nothing.

Kind of like you tossed him to the side multiple times, you twisted fucker?

Guilt rose up like bile in my throat as I fought to push it down, focusing instead on Rhys and the fact that he was trusting me with that part of himself even after everything I had done to him.

“I'm so sorry, Rhys. It's his loss if he couldn't see how special you are,” I told him sympathetically.

He shot me a look that I had trouble deciphering and worry clawed at me.

“What's wrong?” I carefully pressed.

“It's just weird hearing you be so…nice,” Rhys said, his tone exposing the underlying worry. I could only imagine his fears of this being an elaborate scheme to fuck him over even more, but that wouldn't happen. I couldn't pretend that I still hated him when the hate I used to hold had slowly dissolved with every interaction. I didn't exactly know what I wanted from Rhys, only that I wanted time with him to figure it out.

Each day, my head was a screeching cacophony of thoughts, like an orchestra tuning up in randomized chaos. Rhys was the conductor, waving his hands and bringing all the sounds together, the notes sliding into place in smooth harmony. He quieted the noise in my head, and I was addicted to the calm I felt with him.

“Well, I meant it. Youarespecial, Rhys. I wouldn't be willing to do whatever it took to make things up to you if you weren't,” I told him, hoping he heard the sincerity in my voice.

“I guess it wouldn't hurt to let you try, seeing as how you practically begged me for the opportunity,” Rhys smirked at me. His teaseunfurled the knot in my gut that had been present since learning about that jagweed Connor and their history together.

“Let's not kid ourselves, Sweetness. We both know you're the one who begs in this dynamic,” I winked at him. For a split second, I thought I'd gone too far teasing him back, but Rhys' pink cheeks and rough swallow suggested I'd be forgiven.

“Yeah, well…I underestimated how talented your hands are,” he muttered. His comment sent blood sliding down my body toward my dick, and I noticed his breathing picked up slightly. Fuck, how did I ever convince myself that I wasn't affected by him?

“About as talented as that mouth of yours…”

The words escaped me before I realized what I'd said. Rhys' gasp was audible across the table and his pupils dilated with lust. My cock hardened under my zipper and a fire ignited in my groin. I wanted to chase the blush that ran down his throat with my tongue to see if he tasted as sweet as I imagined. My bones were vibrating with need. I wanted my hands on him more than my next breath.

Before I could register how epically stupid a decision it was, I stood up. “Follow me,” I commanded.

Rhys' eyes widened and he gripped the booth tightly, his knuckles white from effort. “Cal, that's not a good idea,” he whispered, but I could see the desire pooling in his gaze.

“I wasn't asking, Rhys. Be a good boy and follow me,” I warned. I turned and headed for the bathrooms, knowing without a doubt he'd follow. The thought had satisfaction flooding my veins, his submission a heady aphrodisiac.

I checked that the single bathroom was empty and pushed in, holding the door open for Rhys as he shyly snuck in two seconds later.

The moment the door was closed, I flipped the lock and shoved him against the wall, diving for his neck and licking a trail up to his ear. Rhys' moan and the light salty tang of his skin made precum leak out of my swollen head.

“Fuck, Rhys. I've spent days thinking about how it felt to have those perfect lips of yours wrapped around my cock,” I purred in his ear, reaching for his belt and undoing it quickly. Rhys gripped my waist with surprising strength, his body shivering against me.

“You have?” He asked in a shaky voice, fingers digging into my skin as I shoved his jeans down under his pert ass.

“That's right. Since the haunted house, I've thought of nothing elsebut getting my hands on you again and pouring myself down your throat,” I rasped as I peeled his boxers down. My palm was itching to touch him, feel the heat of him on me.

“I wanted to taste you that night.” Rhys let out a groan as I encircled his rigid length in my hand, pumping him slowly. His eyes were engrossed in the movement, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from his flushed face.

Has he always been this…beautiful? What the fuck is happening to me right now?

“Not now,” I growled, his eyes snapping to mine. “We don't have long. Right now, you're going to fuck my hand until I drain you of every drop of cum. I want you to cover me in it so I smell you for hours, Sweetness.”

A whimper fell from his lips and fuck me, if it didn't go straight to my cock. I spit in my hand and started jacking him fast.

“Oh, God…Cal,” Rhys gasped, arms snaking around my neck and his head burrowing into my shoulder. His hips began a frantic pace, his dick rock hard and dripping down to smooth the friction in my hand. I clutched the back of his neck, cradling him to my chest as I worked him over.

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