Page 642 of Hell Hath No Fury
CHAPTER SIX
Rylan
When I open my eyes, I immediately close them to block the rays of sun shining in from the large bedroom windows. With a sigh, I peer down at my sheet-covered body. Just seeing my current state sends a wave of memories rushing over me.
As I stretch, a smile parts my lips, appreciating the delicious ache from last night’s pleasures. I pat the space beside me, finding myself alone and Kareem nowhere in sight. I look around for my clothes but remember we left them in the living room.
Wrapping myself in the sheet, I crawl out of bed and stroll into the front of the condo. The sound of a pan sizzling and soft music greets me before I spot him at the stove. The first thing I see is his back, bare and flexing as he stirs what looks like eggs. He’s prepared an entire feast of meats and pancakes to boot.
I’m frozen in place at the edge of the hallway, watching him in his element, enjoying how he moves. Kareem turns off the burner, giving the eggs one final fluff before filling our plates.
“Smells good,” I say after a moment and stroll into the kitchen.
He glances over his shoulder at me, a grin dangling on his lips. “Good morning. How’d you sleep?” he asks.
“Not very much,” I tease with my brows raised.
He smirks and meets me at the island. My lungs tighten as the little air I have left squeezes from my body.Why is this man so damn fine? I think while gawking at his naked chest. It’s notlike I haven’t seen it all before. Yet, I can only admire what’s in front of me.
I trace the tattoos up his arm and over his chest, letting my eyes trail his torso, committing to memory every ab, the birthmark just below his navel, and the faint line of hair that leads downward. I focus on what he’s wearing—the thick gray material of his sweat pants does nothing to hide the bulge staring back at me. The only thing that would make this a better view is if he was covered in sweat with his deep brown skin glistening all over.
I stare unrestrained at his crotch, not realizing I’d been biting my bottom lip until he speaks.
“My face is up here,” he jokes.
But I don’t break my gaze. I don’t care. I’m all too aware of what he has in his pants. What magic does he have over me? The island separates us, but I wish we weren’t. I’m not supposed to be here. He shouldn’t be in my world. No one should. There’s a pull in my gut, telling me to get my things and leave before anything else can happen.
The pressure is heavy against my ribs. My brain tells my feet to move, to grab my clothes, and to thank him for a good time. Every other fiber of my being keeps me rooted in place. Kareem makes me feel things, things I gave up long ago. Things that turn the pull in my gut to flutters.
He sets the plates down and stands beside me. With a deep intensity, he peers at me, our souls seeming to connect in the silent moment we share. I try to look him in the face, but all I can do is breathe deep to still my racing libido.
“Why do you look like you want to run?” he asks, and my breath hitches.
There he goes paying attention again. From the moment we met, all he’s done is prove he sees me.
“Let it go. Whatever you’re holding on to, let it go.”
I feel the back of his fingers against my neck before my mind registers he’s touching me. Kareem presses his thumb to my throat, his eyes zeroing in on the swallow I take.
“Can you do that for me, Rylan? Can you let go?”
My only reaction is to stare at him, my back rigid and my breaths trapped. I lick my lips, and where the lack of words fails, my skin speaks for me. Goosebumps form along my arms when he inches closer to me. I drop my gaze to avoid the seriousness of his words, my focus immediately redirecting to those damned grey sweatpants.
His presence is suffocating. Not in the, I can’t breathe kind of way, but more so overwhelming, intoxicating. I place my palm on his chest to gently push him back. Kareem puts his hand over mine, pinning it to him like he’s trying to make us one. I gingerly rake my touch down his frame, and he holds tight, not wavering in his position. He wants me to know he’s in charge, and damn it if I don’t like it.
He hooks a finger around the sheet near my chest, tugging, and it gives no hesitation to his demand. Honestly, I forgot I’m still naked in the middle of his kitchen. As he moves closer, the fabric pools to the floor, trapping me between him and the island. I realize he likes doing this, getting me in a position where I have no choice but to submit.
Kareem holds my hip with one hand and the base of my neck with the other. “You want to fight me, but your body wants to be here. It likes what I do to it,” he whispers on my lips.
I smell the coffee on his breath and nearly whimper at the scent. “The food’s going to get cold,” I huff.
He spreads my legs apart with his foot. “Fuck that food.” He lifts me with the swiftest of motions and splays my ass out on the marbled surface. “Don’t move.”
He backs away as I lean back on my elbows, watching him rush over to where his jeans are bunched at the foot of the couch.Kareem finds a condom and hurries back to his place between my legs, his dick already hard and straining to be freed. It’s a good thing he’s tall. Otherwise, this wouldn’t work the way either of us pictured it.
He yanks me to the edge of the counter, spreading my legs until they touch the cold surface. My nipples harden under his gaze. Lust fills us both, but I can see him losing his composure—the veins in his neck pulse when he stares at my core.
“I don’t know who hurt you, but he’s not me,” he says, making eye contact with me.
