Quiet Longing (Quiet Love #2)

32.

Charli

The pantry door closed over with a soft click as Rhys lowered to his knees in front of me for the second time that day.

“Good memories in this room,” he said with a sinful smile.

“What? Oh, yes. Memories,” I replied, incredibly flustered. We were standing in almost the exact same spot where we’d lost our virginity to one another over sixteen years ago, and I was a little overwhelmed.

“Shall we make another one?” he went on, eyes hooded, and tingles danced along my spine.

“S-sure.”

“You’ll have to be quiet, though,” he warned in a low, gravelly voice that had my pulse spiking.

“Rhys, what are you—”

Before I could finish the question, he was lifting the long, calf length skirt I’d changed into when I got home from work. I’d also donned fresh underwear, which I was glad for since Rhys was kissing his way up my inner thigh and making my brain turn to mush. My back met the wall, and I exhaled a shaky breath.

It had been a whirlwind of a day. I’d spent the hours after lunch in a state of blissful disbelief at what had happened in Rhys’ office. But I also felt good about it. Really good. I was proud that even though I’d been nervous and stammering, I’d asked him for what I wanted. He’d agreed to give it to me without prerequisites.

He’d said I could “use him” for however long I needed, and though the idea of using another person didn’t exactly sit right, it felt liberating to know I could touch Rhys if I wanted to and that he would touch me if I asked for it.

I hadn’t exactly asked for this , but perhaps Rhys could read minds because I’d certainly spent a lot of time daydreaming about it. He’d always known the exact right places to touch me to drive me wild. Back when we were both fumbling, inexperienced teenagers, we’d taken the time to learn each other’s bodies, what the other one liked. And I’d known as soon as Rhys’ hand slid past my underwear while I’d sat on his lap during lunch that he still remembered exactly how to please me.

His kisses on my inner thigh paused, his breath hot against my sex, and I groaned. “Don’t stop.”

He gazed up at me, blue eyes bright. A devilish smirk graced his lips. The fabric of my skirt was bunched up around my waist and spilling about his shoulders. “I have no intention of stopping, Charlotte.”

My full name on his tongue did something wonderful and swirly to my stomach. Rhys’ large hands gripped the elastic of my underwear as he deftly tugged them down my legs. I stepped out of the panties, vaguely aware of him shoving them in his pocket before his mouth lowered. He licked at me, and I lost the ability to think, my head thumping softly against the wall. His hand went to the back of my knee, and I froze briefly. His warm fingers skimmed close to an old scar. I was thankful for the dark room because Rhys seeing that scar might throw a dampener on things, and I didn’t want to stop. Not when I was already so turned on. I managed to relax, and his grip was firm as he encouraged me to lift my leg over his shoulder. I happily obliged, granting him better access and his tongue lazily circled my clit.

I moaned.

One hand slapped me lightly on the ass as his eyes flicked up in reprimand, “Quieter,” he scolded though it looked like he was holding back a satisfied smile when his mouth returned to me, his expert tongue working its magic.

Breathless, I nodded, trying my best not to make another sound. The living room was a good distance away, tucked into the opposite corner of the ground floor, but there was still a chance my aunt or uncle could wander into the kitchen for a snack.

“We need to be fast,” I whispered, biting my lip to keep in another moan.

As though taking my words as a challenge, Rhys tongued my clit with haste, creating a building tension within me. He slid two fingers inside me, and I felt pleasurably full. His eyes never left me, gazing up and taking in my every reaction, like the act of eating me out was giving him as much satisfaction as having his cock buried deep inside me might.

The thought of him throwing me down on his bed, spreading my legs, and sliding into me just as easily as he’d used to had my orgasm hurtling forward like an Olympic sprinter.

I gripped his shoulder with one hand while the other sunk into his hair. “Rhys,” I rasped. “I’m close.”

A deep, approving growl rumbled out of him, and then I came, shuddering on his mouth as he continued to lick at me, drawing out every tremor and shake until I was completely spent. I tugged him up to standing then plastered my mouth to his.

Kissing him seemed like the only way I could convey my gratitude. I could taste myself on him, but I felt no shame. Rhys had no idea what he was gifting me. He was giving me my body back in a way I was incapable of doing alone. He allowed me to rediscover sexual pleasure with someone I felt completely and totally safe and at ease with.

“Thank you,” I breathed, still tasting myself on his tongue, then repeated, “ Thank you .”

Rhys stared at me, his eyes a little unfocused before he reached out and tucked some hair behind my ear. “No thanks needed. Ever. Already told you I’m at your disposal.”

Okay. Wow . That statement brought forth a flurry of ideas, none of which I’d ever be brave enough to make a reality, but still, it was nice to imagine.

“What are you thinking?” he murmured.

A small, barely there smirk graced my lips. “I’m thinking … how can I sneak you upstairs to my bedroom without my aunt or uncle noticing?”

He let out a deep, masculine chuckle that I felt all the way to the pit of my stomach as his hand cupped my cheek. “I think we’ve done enough sneaking around for one day.”

“I politely disagree,” I countered, drawing a handsome smile from him that somehow managed to light me up from within.

Rhys tutted. “So demanding.” His mouth went to my ear. “What to do with you?”

“I already—"

“I can’t wait to sink my cock inside you, Charli. I haven’t forgotten how well we fit.”

With that one statement, he withdrew, leaving me reeling as I leaned against the wall, heart pounding. Rhys reached the door, turning back to say, “If you need me this weekend, call me. I won’t be busy.”

And then he left. I wasn’t sure how long I remained standing there, but it was only when I finally pushed away from the wall and fixed my skirt back down that I realised he hadn’t returned my underwear.

***

Perhaps it was the two orgasms Rhys had given me the day before, but I woke on Saturday morning energised and ready to face the day. I got right work to work where I’d left off on my mortgage application and started doing more research on the process of buying a house in Ireland. All the while, my mind kept drifting back to Rhys, his hand in my panties, his mouth between my legs.

I was in and out of daydreams all morning when I stumbled across an article with advice for potential home buyers. It detailed how certain sellers with an emotional attachment to the house they were selling wanted to know it was going to someone who would care for and appreciate it as much as they did. I thought of the little house next door to Rhys’ with its butterfly theme and lovingly renovated interior. Melanie and Kevin obviously loved their house and were sad to leave, but it just wasn’t large enough to start a family in.

The article went on to suggest that writing a letter to the sellers telling them what the house would mean to you could be a way of convincing them to accept your offer. It felt like a good idea since it would take at least a few more weeks before I was ready to put in an offer, and the house could be sold by then.

So, I borrowed some fancy stationary from Uncle Padraig’s office and set to work. I re-read the letter several times before sealing it in a cream coloured envelope. I was far too restless to drop it at the nearest post office, though. It was the weekend, and posting the letter meant it could take days before it reached Melanie and Kevin.

That felt like an eternity when I was filled with such urgency. Impulsively, I grabbed my things and headed out. It took almost an hour to reach Rhys’ street using public transport, and when I stood outside the pastel blue door with the butterfly knocker, I once again felt like the house was perfect for me. Even its placement on the street felt right with its south-facing back garden.

It was difficult to explain why I wanted the house so much, but the feeling was just there, impossible to ignore. It overrode all other thoughts like would I regret putting myself in debt just for a house? Or would the new sexual element to mine and Rhys’ friendship be complicated further by me moving in next door?

I pushed all those questions and worries aside as I slid the letter through the mailbox, then nodded to myself. It was the right move. I could feel it in my bones.

When I turned, I spotted Rhys’ car parked next to the sidewalk. Well, it would be a waste to come all that way and not pay him a visit, right? Plus, he had mentioned he wasn’t going to be busy all weekend, so I knocked.

A minute later, the door opened. Rhys appeared in a T-shirt, sweatpants, and bare feet. His hair was damp like he’d just taken a shower. My brain took a second to fire up.

“Charli, hey,” he said, motioning me inside without question. I loved that about him, how chill he was.

“Do you want some tea? Coffee?”

“Tea is good. Herbal if you have it,” I replied, and Rhys nodded before leading me into the kitchen.

“I was just dropping a letter off at Melanie and Kevin’s,” I said as I took a seat, and he rifled through his cupboard, pulling out boxes of tea. “Thought it would be rude not to drop in and say hi.”

His expression warmed. “I’m glad you’re here.” Then one eyebrow lifted. “A letter?”

“I read that it’s a good way to appeal to sellers to accept your offer. You write them a letter detailing why you want their house.”

“Ah, yeah. I’ve heard of people doing that,” Rhys replied as he filled the kettle with water. “So, what did you write?”

He came and sat across from me while waiting for the kettle to boil, his eyes soft and interested. An itchy, vaguely emotional feeling tickled my chest. What was it about Rhys that always hit me that way? I wasn’t used to a man being genuinely interested in what I had to say.

“Well, I spoke a little about my life in America, my marriage ending and making a fresh start in Ireland. I tried to appeal to their kindness without going overboard.”

“I can talk to them if you’d like. We’ve always been on good terms.”

“Oh, really? Yes, um, well maybe you could drop a few hints without being too obvious? I don’t want them to feel annoyed or get the sense I’m desperate.”

Rhys smiled warmly. “I’ll be very casual. Don’t worry.”

The kettle finished boiling, and he stood to go make the tea, returning a minute later with two cups of green tea with jasmine. I inhaled deeply, the herbal aroma soothing some of my nervous tension about the house. We sat across from one another, a small silence falling before I spoke.

“So, yesterday was … unexpected.”

His lips twitched, eyes dancing. “That’s one way of putting it.”

“Thanks for being so amazing about it all,” I said, fiddling with the handle on my teacup and shooting him a look that I hoped conveyed how much his openness to experiment meant to me. “There’s literally no other person on the planet I’d feel comfortable asking to, well, have this kind of arrangement with.”

“Don’t say that,” Rhys replied though there was a teasing lilt to his voice.

I blinked. “Why not?”

He shot me a dark look. “Because I like it far too much.”

Heat flooded me, a soft exhale falling past my lips as I busied myself taking a sip of tea then said, “Well, it’s the truth. I’ve always felt drawn to you, even back when we first met. It’s like … I don’t know, my aura likes your aura. Is that a weird thing to say?”

Rhys’ face settled into a fond smile. “Not at all. My aura likes your aura right back.”

I chuckled. “Hey, don’t make fun. I’m out of practice with all this. I can’t even tell if you’re flirting.”

“Safe to say, with you, I normally am,” he responded low, and my stomach fizzled.

I bit my lip, glancing across the table at him as I blurted, “If we’re really going to do this, I feel like there are some things you should know.”

“Last night, my face was buried in your pussy, Charli,” Rhys said gruffly, and his words had my libido taking flight. “There’s no ‘if’ about it.”

I swallowed thickly and wrangled with the urge to climb across the table, grab his collar, and plunge my tongue into his mouth. “Right, even so, you should know that when I say I’m out of practice, I mean it in every sense of the word.” I chanced a peek at him and saw his head tilt curiously. Inhaling for courage, I continued, “Jesse and I, we stopped sleeping together years ago. I guess the marriage was over long before I ever had the strength to walk away.”

A flicker of darkness passed over his features. “How long?”

I exhaled. “Three years, almost four. But you know, it was better that way. I had no interest in … doing that. Not with Jesse. Not with anyone. That part of me went into hibernation. It’s why I’m so grateful to you for letting me explore that side of myself again. I’m still kind of reawakening, I guess.”

“You set the pace, always,” Rhys replied, his expression sober, and my affection for him expanded exponentially.

“Thank you,” I said then shook my head at myself. “I feel like I keep thanking you lately, but you have no idea how special you are. There aren’t many men out there who’d be prepared to help me like this.”

Rhys scoffed a little. “I’m not special, Charli. You could have a line of randy bastards a mile long prepared to sleep with you.”

“Yes, but would they be prepared to let me set the pace like you do? No, I don’t think so. With you, I never feel pressured. I always know you’ll stop the moment I ask you to. That’s what makes you special, Rhys, so own it.”

He kept staring at me then, his expression serious, eyes hooded. My skin heated at the look in his eyes.

“It also helps that I find you incredibly sexy and handsome,” I confessed. His features flickered with a hint of shyness—like he wasn’t used to the compliment—before his expression grew hooded once more.

“Let’s talk about something else,” he said, adjusting himself in the seat, and that made me very curious. Had me calling him sexy and handsome turned him on?

“Why?” I asked, unable to resist.

“Because I need to stop thinking about how good I’m going to fuck you when you’re eventually ready for that, and I doubt you’ll enjoy me sitting across from you right now with a raging hard on.”

His response made me flush while it also surprised a chuckle out of me. “Don’t threaten me with a good time, Rhys Doyle,” I said, and he groaned, so I relented. “Fine, fine, we’ll change the subject. How about you tell me what kind of tiles those are in your kitchen? I really like them. Also, I love the bed you have upstairs. The carved wood frame is so unique.”

Looking relieved, Rhys launched into a detailed description of the tiles, which came from a specialist shop nearby, and the bed, which was handmade by a carpenter over in Cornwall and had been delivered just last month. He continued talking, telling me all the ways in which he’d updated the space, and I was happy to sit there and listen. We talked until we ran out of tea, and I excused myself to use the bathroom. There was only one, and it was located upstairs. I hurried up and did my business, my eyes catching on Rhys’ open bedroom door when I emerged.

Unlike the last time I was in there, the bed was unmade, the blanket strewn haphazard across the wide mattress. It struck me as odd because Rhys didn’t seem the type to leave his bed unmade, not unless he was distracted. Had his mind been as preoccupied as mine had that morning, replaying those few minutes in the darkened pantry when he’d effortlessly wrought the most exquisite orgasm from me with his skilled mouth?

Not fully thinking it through, I stepped inside, taking in the space again. It was less tidy than before, a pair of jeans thrown over the bench at the foot of the bed, his keys and phone scattered across the side table. My eyes traced his possessions before catching on a small bundle of dark, silky fabric next to the keys. My panties . Heat rose in my cheeks as I stood frozen in place. The table was right next to the side of the bed Rhys slept on, obvious from the rumpled pillow and how the blanket appeared to have bunched around that side.

What was he …

Why had he left them there?

For a second, my mind conjured an image of Rhys, his large, muscled body naked beneath the blanket, hand fisting his hard cock as he held my panties to his face and breathed in. It was such an erotic vision that I found my breaths coming faster as I continued to stand there. I thought back on yesterday in Rhys’ office and again in the pantry at my aunt and uncle’s house. Rhys had made it all about me, never once asking me to reciprocate. But standing in his bedroom and fantasising about him alone in his bed had my belly swirling with desire. I wanted to give back the pleasure he’d given me.

The creak of a floor board alerted me that I was no longer alone.

“Charli?” My name was a heated question on his lips.

I turned like I’d been caught doing something I shouldn’t. Well, technically, I had since I’d entered his room without invitation. “You kept them,” I whispered, and it was Rhys’ turn to look guilty.

His eyes flashed to the bundle of fabric on his side table before returning to mine. He ran a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean to. I only realised they were still in my pocket when I got home last night.”

Feeling emboldened, I stepped closer and pressed my hand to his chest. “It’s okay. I don’t …” My eyes flickered to his. “I like it.”

His gaze heated, his hand closing over mine and holding it firmer to his chest. Rhys opened his mouth to speak, but I beat him to it.

“Go lay down on the bed,” I breathed, and his eyes flared briefly.

“Charli, wh—”

“Please. Before I lose my nerve. I just want to try something.”

His expression was conflicted for a moment before, finally, he released a gruff breath then let go of my hand and stepped toward the bed. He lowered himself to the mattress, lying flat on his back, head on the pillow. His eyes found mine as he asked, “What next?”

My heart beat a mile a minute as I slipped off my shoes and pulled my sweater over my head. Standing in only a thin tank top and jeans, I traced the movement of his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he watched me. “Just stay there,” I said, and a pleasurable shimmer passed through me. I felt powerful, in control, and it was a wonderful sensation. Rhys was allowing me to lead, and I savoured every second.

“You’re okay with this?” I asked quietly as I moved to sit on the edge of the bed.

“I’m not entirely sure what you have planned,” he replied, his voice thick. “But yeah, you could say I’m okay with it.”

Experimentally, I rose up onto my knees. Rhys watched me the entire time as I climbed astride his lap. “Yeah, very okay with it,” he went on gruffly.

Bravely, I brought my hands to his shoulders, gently stroking in towards his neck before lowering to his chest. “Careful,” Rhys murmured, eyes hooded, and a bolt of arousal shot through me at how he gazed at me.

“I like touching you,” I whispered.

“Yeah?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Fuck, Charli. I might get hard, but don’t worry about it. Just keep going, okay?”

I nodded, a thrill of satisfaction filling me to know that just sitting astride him was a turn on. Bending down, I brought my mouth to his ear. “I also like it when you get hard.”

Rhys’ entire body shuddered with a groan, and I smiled as I sucked his earlobe into my mouth then began planting kisses along his jaw and neck. All the while, he remained lying there, hands by his sides, not making a single move to touch me.

I rose back up, fascinated as I trailed my palms along his broad, flat chest then all the way down his arms. I smoothed my fingers over his fingers, lifting his hand and testing its weight, examining each knuckle. They were good hands, protective hands. The kind of hands that would keep you warm on a cold, lonely night.

When I glanced at Rhys, he wore a faint smirk as he watched me examine him. A small trickle of self-consciousness tried to push through but I ignored it. I brought Rhys’ hand to my neck, flattening his palm to my skin. Hmm, warm . His breathing hitched, and I held his gaze, moving his palm lower until he was cupping my breast. I inhaled sharply, a fresh wave of arousal rising as his large palm covered me. I bent and captured his lips in a gentle kiss. Rhys kissed me back right away, but he didn’t push, didn’t try to take the lead. He only responded to what I did, never making the first move.

My breathing grew laboured as the kiss deepened, and I found myself reaching for the hem of his T-shirt, lifting it up over his head. Rhys obliged, sitting up then lying back down, the bare expanse of his upper body and torso exposed to me. I tentatively ran my hands over the hard planes of his pecs then down over his abs. Touching him brought on a feeling of déjà vu. I’d been here before with him in a different timeline, before we’d parted and went on separate journeys.

Maybe we never should’ve parted because being alone with him had my body humming with rightness. It felt like we were both exactly where we were meant to be.

Desire coiled tight within me as I bent to press my mouth to his upper pectoral. Rhys exhaled but didn’t speak, and I was glad for his silence. If he spoke, I might lose my nerve as I traced my lips down his torso. The scars he’d had as a teenager were still there, just on a harder, larger, more mature body. I wondered what he’d think about the scars I was marked with.

I had several, each attached to an awful experience my mind had become adept at repressing.

There was a jagged, silvery line that ran down the centre of my left knee from when Jesse pushed me down the stairs of the second floor of the penthouse. He’d come home from work pissed after losing a case. I’d said something along the lines of “You can’t expect to win them all,” and a flip switched. He dragged me by the hair, spouting foul words in my face before roughly shoving me down the steps.

I’d fallen harshly, landing on my hands and knees on the tile floor, my left knee split open. I’d stitched it up myself with a first-aid kit which left the scarring much worse than if I’d gone to the hospital.

Ever since then, that same knee ached when it was cold out.

I never wore earrings because the one time I’d bought a pair of colourful, dangly ones that I’d planned to wear to work. Jesse had demanded to know who I was dressing myself up for, and when I’d repeatedly told him there was no one—which was the truth—he’d spat at me, said I was a lying bitch, and yanked one of the earrings right out of my ear. I could still hear my own scream and feel the agony he’d left me in. That time, I’d gone to the hospital, telling a fake story about the earring getting caught in the elevator door that led to my apartment. They’d believed me, but I was hours late to work that day, showing up after lunch with a small bandage where my husband had callously yanked out my earring.

If you looked closely enough, you could still see the cut.

And there were more scars, broken bones, too, more painful memories, but—

“Charli,” Rhys said, his voice dragging me from my thoughts. “Where’d you go?”

“Sorry,” I whispered, not wishing to explain where my mind had ventured.

“Hey,” he whispered back. “Maybe you’re pushing yourself too far.”

I shook my head vehemently, refusing to let my trauma ruin the perfect moment. I wouldn’t let Jesse’s mark on me taint the lovely bubble I existed in when I was alone with Rhys. “I’m okay. I don’t want to stop.”

He studied me a moment then nodded. I climbed off him and stretched out next to him, caressing his cheek before requesting, “Please kiss me.”

Rhys made a deep, short grunt then closed the distance between us and brought his mouth to mine. It started out soft, just a light brushing of lips, but soon deepened into something hungrier. Before I knew it, I’d thrown my leg over his waist and was grinding myself on his thick thigh as we devoured one another with lips, teeth, and tongue. My hand went to his erection that was hard as steel in his pants.

“Do you have any condoms?” I asked between kisses, and Rhys groaned, his eyes opening briefly to shoot me a tortured look.

“Yes, but … maybe we shouldn’t.”

“I want you. I want to feel you inside me again. I’ve missed you,” I practically whined, completely lost to desire and my need to be connected to him on the most primal level.

“I don’t want you to do anything you might regret.”

I met his gaze resolutely. “Not a possibility, not with you.”

Something possessive claimed his features though he still seemed hesitant, so I blurted desperately, “I haven’t had sex in almost four years, and I want to break that dry spell with you, but if you don’t want me—”

At this, he practically growled as he dragged me beneath him and claimed my mouth in a way that made my toes curl before coming up for air. “There is no universe where I don’t want you, Charli,” he rumbled, pressing his erection firmly between my thighs and rutting against me.

The next few minutes were a blur of Rhys and I tearing each other’s clothes off. Before I knew it, I was lying beneath him on the bed, completely naked as he explored every inch of me with his mouth and skilled fingers. It was the middle of the day, and Rhys could see all of me. He didn’t miss a thing, his eyes and tender palms sweeping over every old scar. His dark brows pulled together, a flicker of a murderous expression in his eyes as several thoughts and correct suspicions filled his mind. I’d already told him about Jesse, but I knew seeing the marks of his abuse made it so much more real for Rhys. Still, I was glad when he didn’t comment on them, instead taking his time to kiss each scar as though he could erase them with his tenderness. A tightness clutched my throat, and I thought I might cry to be touched so softly, so reverently.

I just about managed to hold it together.

Finally, he climbed back to the top of the bed and reached across to grab a condom from the dresser. With practiced hands, he tore open the packet and slid the latex down his impressively large shaft. I couldn’t take my eyes off him the entire time. Then his mouth returned to mine, kissing me hungrily as he palmed my thigh, lifting it slightly as he repositioned himself.

“Rhys,” I begged past his kiss, needing him immediately, and at last, he thrust in. I’d never felt such delicious fullness or at least not for a long time. Not since I was with him last. Rhys had always been just right for me, and I wished I’d fought harder to keep him in my life back when I’d had the chance.

“You okay?” he asked, a little breathless as he brought his forehead to mine and rested it there. I loved having him above me, loved the little bit of weight pressing down on me. I felt so cherished by him. Safe .

“Yes,” I responded past a moan when he gently began moving his hips. “ Very okay.”

Rhys gave a deep chuckle, keeping his forehead plastered to mine, eyes open to take in my every reaction as he quickened his thrusts, and a tidal wave of pleasure spread through my body.

How long had it been since penetrative sex felt as good as this?

Too long.

Rhys trailed his nose along my cheek and down the hollow of my throat, causing tingles to race down my spine before he captured my breast in his mouth and sucked. I cried out, lost to the pleasure while his thrusts increased in speed and pressure, fucking me in earnest.

“Charli,” he groaned, sweat collecting on his brow. “We fit so well together.”

“Faster,” I begged, and a sinful smile graced his lips before he gave me exactly what I wanted.

I scraped my nails lightly through his hair. Rhys tongued my nipple then moved across to the other, heightening the pleasure of his cock thrusting inside me. At that moment, I felt completely and lovingly consumed by him, and there was no greater feeling.

My hands explored his shoulders, his muscles tensing and bunching. I wanted him to come, wanted to feel him collapse his delicious weight on top of me when he was spent.

“Are you close?” I asked, my mouth at his ear, and he groaned once more, nodding and fucking me in hard, sharp thrusts. A moment later, I felt his heat between my thighs, his lips finding mine as he came, muffled, barely decipherable swearwords trailing out of him before he did just as I’d hoped and collapsed on top of me.

I closed my eyes, feeling exquisitely surrounded and weighed down by his warm, large, heavy body.