Pieces of Rhys Page 8

  I had just finished sanitizing the table when someone rang the doorbell. I froze. What if it was an ex? I wasn't at Rhys's place nearly as much as we were at mine. I didn't know if girls randomly dropped by. Good grief, I hope it's not another teapot calling the kettle cow bitch.

  Just as the bell rang again, Rhys emerged, dressed and gorgeous. I scooted away to the bedroom to put on some clothes. I heard what sounded like a female voice, all but confirming my suspicions. I brushed my hair and made sure I didn't have dry (or fresh) slobber on my face before stepping out of the room.

  I walked down the short hall, hearing whispered conversation. Oh boy.

  "Lindsey," Rhys said my name, but he didn't look happy. He looked like he was barely containing...what? Bitterness. Yes, that's it.

  The woman's back was to me, but already I knew it wasn't an ex lover. There were a lot of grey streaks in her thin, dark hair which was in a single braid down her back all the way to her butt. She finally turned around as I got close.

  "Lindsey, this is my mom, Anne. Mom this is my...very good friend Lindsey."

  Ouch.

  I reached out to shake her frail hand. Anne smiled at me. Her smile was genuine but her eyes were so haunted that I had to repress a shudder. Besides what looked like a completely wounded soul, Rhys looked a lot like her. I imagined that she was old before her time and that she must have been a knock-out when she was younger.

  "Oh, aren't you a pretty thing. I don't mean to intrude," she said in a very soft, musical voice. "I made Rhys some meatballs this morning and wanted to drop it off before...I mean..." She struggled to find the right words.

  "You don't have to explain anything to me," I smiled at her. "I wish my mom was around to make me food."

  "Is your mother..."

  I looked at her, confused for a few seconds before I grasped what she was saying.

  "Oh, no!" I rushed. "My mom lives in California. My parents retired there."

  "Oh, I've always wanted to go to California," she said quietly, and looked away with her brow furrowed and a frown on her face.

  "Mom, you better get home," Rhys said.

  She blinked out of the moment she was having and nodded.

  "I hope you kids enjoy the meatballs," she said, pulling her jacket tight around her. "Rhys, make sure you make a salad and get a nice loaf of bread to go with it."

  She hugged her son, kissed my cheek and quickly left.

  "My father is probably out fishing," Rhys said distractedly. "He gets upset when she's not home when he gets there."

  I stood stock still, my hands folded in front of me, my eyes locked on Rhys's face. Was he about to confirm my recently acquired suspicions? Was he about to give me a piece of himself that would help complete the puzzle that is Rhys? I held my breath.

  He looked at me as if he may divulge something. I felt like it was hanging on the tip of his tongue, but the moment passed. He wasn't going to reveal anything.

  I loudly expelled the breath I had been holding, and turned away. My good morning just went to shit.

  "I think I'm going to go home for a little bit," I said and started down the hallway to Rhys's bedroom.

  "Lindsey," he called after me. "Lindsey!"

  Rhys walked into the bedroom, looking irritated.

  "Why are you leaving?"

  "Where's my other shoe?" I spun around in a circle.

  "Lindsey, I hate when you do this shit. You can never just tell me outright what you're really thinking or feeling."

  I saw the toe of my shoe peeking out from under Joe's furry fat ass. He was laying on my shoe!

  "You have some nerve to talk to me about not revealing my thoughts and feelings," I said, plucking the fat ass cat off of my shoe. "All I know for sure about you is that you love to be inside of me."

  "Don't toss my cat."

  "Even your fat ass cat lands on his feet."

  "If you want me to say it, I will," he said with a loud, irritated sigh.

  "No!" I pointed at him, even though I knew it was rude. I hoped Fat Joe wasn't in the room to see how rude I was being. What kind of example am I? "Don't say it because I want you to, or just to keep me here. I want you to say it because you mean it, because you feel it. Don't say it because you feel backed into a corner. It won't mean shit to me."

  His gorgeous face was apprehensive as he watched me gather my few belongings.

  "Are you coming back for dinner?" He asked, following me to the door.

  "No!" I was really having a temper tantrum.

  "My mom will be upset that you didn't eat her meatballs," he said.

  I paused with my hand on the door.

  Okay, so he was going to play that card.

  I marched into the kitchen. The meatballs were on the counter in a plastic container. I picked up the whole thing and turned to leave, but Rhys blocked me.

  "Whoa! I don't get any of my own mother's meatballs?" He looked mildly amused. I wasn't at all amused.

  I opened the container and put the lid on the table. With my bare hand, I dug in and produced two enormous meatballs. I dropped them on the sex table and then turned to an astonished Rhys. He was wearing the grey tee shirt I liked so much. I used it as a napkin, smearing sauce all over the front of it. He stood there, watching me, too shocked to react. What didn't come off on the shirt, I licked off. I recovered the meatballs.

  "There," I said. "A pair of balls for you. I never thought I'd have to give you a pair." With that, I stormed out of the apartment.

  Chapter Twenty

  "Get your ass back here and bring back my meatballs," Rhys said over the phone a few minutes after I left.

  "No," I said defiantly.

  "You've already ruined my shirt. If I have to come get you and the meatballs, you're going to be sorry."

  "I'm shaking in my Nikes."

  "You should be."

  I hung up the phone. When it rang again, I let it go to voicemail. I looked over at the meatballs in the front passenger seat. I had even strapped them in.

  "You're going to love my kitchen," I said to the meatballs. They didn't answer.

  I carried the meatballs inside and put them on my kitchen counter. Even though it was only mid morning, I really wanted some meatballs. The sauce made me salivate and I was a little sad that I left some of it on Rhys's shirt. I started searching for some pasta.

  I found a box of fettucini and put it aside. I put a pot of water on the stove to boil and then ran upstairs to take a quick shower. The water was boiling by the time I returned in just a towel.

  I was just about to put the pasta in the pot when my front door opened. I knew I had locked it behind me, so it could only be one person.

  "Lindsey!" Rhys called my name in a way that made me both shudder and cream myself.

  I turned around just as he entered the kitchen. He stood in the doorway staring at me, face stoic, laughing eyes. He had changed his shirt, into a long sleeved white one that hugged his body like a tight fitting glove. He looked so hot. I felt my head involuntarily tilt to the side as I took him in. Now I was drooling for more than just meatballs.

  "Are you still shaking in your Nikes?" He asked, his voice low and husky.

  I straightened up and tried to appear bored and not at all nervous.

  "I'm not wearing shoes and you don't scare me."

  "You're going to wish you were nicer to me today," he whispered.

  I had not noticed that one of his hands was behind his back until he brought it into view. My eyes widened and my pulse quickened when I saw what he was holding.

  "Wh-what's that for?" I pointed to the duct tape and the black handkerchief in his hand.

  "For you, baby," he said and moved toward me.

  There was a strong sense of danger as he crossed the room, and I did start shaking...in my bare feet. I didn't fear for my life or fear he would hurt me (much), but he was definitely going to punish me.

  I was frozen in place, unable to make myself attempt an escape until he was almost upon
me, but it was already too late. I practically climbed backward onto the counter trying to put some space between us. He reached over and turned the stove off.

  "Give me your hands," he quietly demanded.

  "Why?" I asked, my voice too high.

  "Because I said so."

  Reluctantly, I extended my hands. He pressed my hands together and before I could register what he was doing, he had begun to wrap my wrists in the duct tape. When I started to object, he tore off a piece and put it across my mouth.

  My eyes were wide and I was breathing heavily.

  "Are you scared?" He whispered.

  I narrowed my eyes as a response, even though it was clear I was delightfully frightened.

  He smiled, and then began to lead me out of the kitchen. I tripped over two steps going up the stairs, which was just stupid considering my feet weren't duct taped. He led me into the bedroom and pushed me onto the bed.

  "Lay down," he said.

  I did as he said, but my anxiety was palpable.

  "Relax," he said, opening my towel. "I'm not going to hurt you. Much."

  He smoothed his hands over my sides, over my hips, and down to my thighs. He eased his hands to my inner thighs and then forced my legs apart.

  "Wow. You're really turned on," Rhys whispered as his thumb began to rub my clitoris.

  I moaned into my duct tape when he slipped three fingers inside of me.

  "This feels good, doesn't it?" He murmured.

  I nodded and pushed my hips up to get his fingers deeper. His thumb pressed harder and with his other hand he reached up and pinched a nipple. I tried to yell, but it was suppressed by the tape. I felt myself climbing Mt. Orgasmo. With each finger thrust and squeeze of my nipple, I was a little closer to the top. I was almost there, almost ready to reach the peak.

  And then Rhys stopped. Everything. He took his fingers out of me and stopped touching me all together.

  I looked at him in shock. I tried to talk but remembered I couldn't.

  Rhys smiled easily as he slipped his three fingers into his mouth.

  Now I understood his game.

  I narrowed my eyes at him once again, but he only chuckled.

  "Are you sorry yet?"

  I shook my head adamantly.

  "Didn't think so," he said. "More fun for me."

  He moved further up the bed and grinned at me before his tongue touched my breast. He licked slow circles around my nipple, but would not actually touch it. It just kept getting harder and longer until I was groaning and silently begging for him to touch it. With my taped hands, I tried to tug at his shirt to pull him where I wanted but he was like stone. His tongue got closer to my nipple, and just when I thought I'd get some satisfaction, he moved to the other breast and repeated his actions.

  By the time he pulled away, I was aching to orgasm.

  "Sorry yet?" He asked, rubbing me between my legs.

  I shrugged, noncommital.

  "Stubborn."

  Rhys stood up and started to strip out of his clothes. I watched with some satisfaction. I loved his body.

  "Hmm," he said, stopping the strip show. "I know..."

  He pulled the hankerchief out of his back pocket and held it up for me to see. He climbed back onto the bed.

  "You don't get to watch."

  I made muffled objections to being blind folded, but it was in vain. Once I was in the dark, he repositioned my arms so that they were above my head.

  "Keep them there," he warned and I felt him move off of the bed.

  I listened intently for the sounds of his clothes being removed. I heard light rustling and then the brief sounds of his belt buckle and zipper, but that was it. I waited for what seemed like forever before I felt him climb back onto the bed.

  His hands were on my inner thighs again, spreading my legs, and then suddenly I felt his erection on me. I shimmied to try to get it in, but he held me firmly in place.

  "Like I told you from the first night we were together, I'm in charge," he said firmly.

  Slowly, he slid into me, until he was filling me completely.

  "Shit, Lindsey," he breathed. "You always feel so good, like you were made for me."

  I moaned and started to move, but he held me firmly again.

  "No, no," he whispered. "Be a good girl and keep still."

  He slowly pulled almost all of the way out before creeping back in again. He held it there for a moment and then pulled out until just the tip was left inside of me, and then he slammed into me so hard, I thought he broke me. I cried out against the tape and opened my eyes wide against the darkness.

  "You want me to fuck you until you're delirious, don't you baby?" He groaned as he held himself deep inside of me.

  I nodded fervantly.

  Then he was moving inside of me, hard and fast. I was climbing the mountain again, faster than before, and I thought for sure my lover would let me reach the peak. He reached up and squeezed a nipple. I screamed my muffled scream as I put one toe on the top of the mountain, and then he pulled out of me completely.

  This time my scream was out of anger and frustration. No one should have to endure this over some damn meatballs.

  I felt him nibble at my jaw.

  "You drive me fucking crazy, Lindsey," he whispered.

  I made a noise of indignation.

  The tape was ripped off of my mouth, and before I could curse him out, his tongue was in my mouth and he entered me once again.

  "Oh fuck," I groaned and moved my hips to meet his. This time he didn't stop me, but reached up and removed my blindfold.

  I blinked up at his perfectly intense face. He reached up to my bound wrists and started to unwind the tape. It was slightly more complicated than it needed to be, but I was soon free. I couldn't wait to get my hands on his body.

  "Please let me..." I panted.

  He groaned and pounded into me harder than ever.

  Back up the mountain I went, feeling everything inside of me building, shifting skyward, racing forth speedily, and just as I reached the top, Rhys wrapped his arms around me, making us as close as humanly possible...

  "I fucking love you, Lindsey. I love you," he groaned loudly.

  I reached the top and rocketed up into space, screaming, digging my nails into his flesh, shouting obsceneties and thrashing against my lover with such intensity, he could barely hold me.

  Rhys looked at me with...what was that? Oh, yeah...love...and kissed me deeply as I tumbled down from the sky, over the mountain, onto a fluffy cloud of ecstacy.

  When I stopped shaking uncontrollably, he slowly released me from the kiss. He smiled down at me and I grinned up at him.

  "Say it again," I quietly commanded.

  "I love you," he said easily.

  I giggled and he grinned widely.

  "I love you, Lindsey," he repeated and kissed my nose. "But don't ever steal my meatballs again."

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Every year on the morning after Thanksgiving, a whole bunch of guys from work get together and play football, whether it's raining, snowing, sleeting, hailing, earthquaking, apocolypsing or sunny and bright. Women showed up to watch the men's lack of athleticism, watch them get dirty, and get hurt.

  This was my first year attending and it was unusually warm. Me and the other women and the men who didn't care to join watched from the sidelines, cheering, booing, and making funny comments. A lot of people brought their kids, and after the real game, the guys started playing football with the kids. I wasn't in much of a mood for any of it, though, as cute as it was. I only showed up because Rhys had asked me to.

  I was beginning to feel like a yo-yo. He would let me get extremely close and then just as quickly let me fall away. It wasn't that Rhys necessarily wanted to date other women and be a free spirit, because I presented him with the opportunity a few times when I felt like he was drifting away. He didn't want to, but he couldn't give me a committment either.

  Sometimes I felt like I was asking for too
much from him, from someone I knew wasn't much of a relationship person from the beginning. But I've been playing by his rules for so long now, I was beginning to feel short changed, and I told him as much the night before.

  We had dinner with Jake, Veronica, Muriel and Phil. The brothers had invited their mother, but Anne "wasn't feeling well" and couldn't make it. Their father was not invited.

  The tension around the table after her last minute phone call could probably be seen from outer space. It probably looked like a giant, taut rubber band. The five of them gave each other knowing looks while I just sat there, knowing but unable to admit that I knew. I felt left out, and as they all began to thaw out with some wine and spirits, it became abundantly clear that Rhys and I were a fifth and sixth wheel.

  Veronica and Jake were newly engaged. Phil and Freduriel's relationship was pretty serious. Then there was Rhys and Lindsey, the guy uncommitted and the girl overly committed.

  I didn't say much during the night. Rhys asked me what was wrong on the way back to my place.

  "I feel short changed," I said quietly, staring out of my window. "I feel like I'm giving you just as much as Muriel gives Phil and Veronica gives your brother, but I don't have what they have. Not even close. I only have pieces of you. Doesn't even make up a whole person."

  He was silent for a few beats. I started to believe that was the end of the conversation.

  "You know that I love you," he started.

  "You really think that's enough," I gaped at him. "You really do. You think you can say that forever and not make any kind of committment. I feel like I'm in limbo."

  "You're free to leave limbo and wander elsewhere," he said dryly.

  "I'll keep that in mind, Rhys. We both know that is always an option for you."

  I popped my headphones into my ears to end the conversation. He must not have wanted to talk anymore either, because he left me alone for the rest of the ride home.

  "Will you come tomorrow?" He asked when we pulled up to my house.

  Typically, he would have stayed the night or we would have went back to his place, but he must have sensed that I wasn't having it.