If I Told You (9 page)

She shifts in my arms, moving away. “I can’t.”

My heart sinks. She doesn’t want it. She doesn’t want me. “I’m sorry, Brooks. I just got carried away.”

“It’s okay. Me too.” She brushes the hair from my forehead. “I just don’t want to mess things up.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

For one brief moment, I thought I had her, at least her body, but no. That was over a year ago and nothing has ever happened since. Nothing but my fantasies.

Now I have to deal with her going out with one of the most eligible guys in New York. He’ll impress her by taking her places most people can’t get into. He’ll charm the panties off of her, if she was wearing any, which she never is, another late night revelation from living with her. He’ll be the one that makes her body his. The only solace I have is knowing she’s incapable of hanging around too long. She’ll tire of him, running back to me, and I’ll get all of her time again. Even if it’s just friendship, I’ll take it.

Pacing the living room, I look down at my watch for the tenth time, anticipating Rhys’s arrival. I’m nervous and I’m not sure why. Maybe because he’s intense. Maybe because he’s so damn hot it’s unnerving. Maybe because I need to fuck so bad, and he’d be the perfect one to do it with. It’s too soon though. Not because I subscribe to any stupid antiquated dating ideals, but because I have a feeling as soon as Rhys gets what he wants, I’ll be just another girl he fucked, and I’m never gonna let myself be that girl. Nope. If anyone’s getting used in this equation, it isn’t going to be me.

The intercom rings, and I push the button to let him in the entry door. When he knocks, I exhale before opening the door. When I open it, Rhys is standing there decked out in a suit more incredible than anything I’ve ever seen. He smiles, and I actually feel my stomach flutter.

“Brooklyn,” he says, softly. “You look amazing.”

“Thank you. So do you.”

I grab my jacket and clutch then walk out with him. In the elevator, we’re silent, but my mind is racing.

“Nice place,” he says. “The studio must be doing well.”

“I have a roommate.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I live with Flynn.”

Rhys looks at me. “Interesting.”

“Why?”

He smiles. “It just is.” The elevator doors open, and we walk out to a waiting limo.

Once inside, I glance at the man beside me. “You always travel like this?”

“No, sometimes I take taxis or even walk, but I wanted to impress you. Did it work?”

I grin. “It did.”

“Good. I’m taking you to an exclusive little hotspot that I really like. It’s owned by celebrity chef, Goodwin Blake.”

“I’ve heard of it through Flynn. He’ll be jealous.”

“Good.”

“Good?”

“Yeah, I like the idea of you going home tonight and telling him all about the fantastic night you had courtesy of me.”

“You want him to be jealous of you?”

“I want all men to be jealous of me. Especially because I have you on my arm tonight.” He leans close. “You have to be one of the most spectacular women I’ve ever seen.”

“Thank you, Rhys.”

“I’d love to see his face when I come out of your room in the morning after spending the night making all your fantasies come true.”

My eyes open wide. Guess we’re going there. “You won’t be waking up in my bedroom tomorrow. Just to be clear.”

“We’ll see.”

I shake my head. “You’re so full of yourself. I’m sure you have good reason. Most of the women you take out can’t wait to get their panties off for you.”

“You’d be right about that.”

“I’m not most women.” I grin. “And I don’t even wear panties.”

Rhys inhales and exhales slowly. “And now I’m hard.” He leans even closer. “Do you shave it all off? Is it bald or do you leave just a little bit behind?”

I smile. “Why should I tell you that?”

“Because I want to know.” He grips my chin. “And you want me to know.”

“Maybe if you’re a good boy tonight, I’ll tell you. If you’re really good, maybe I’ll even show you.”

“Don’t tease me, Brooklyn. I’ll fuck you right here in this car. I don’t give a damn.”

I smile as I imagine that for a moment. “I wonder if you have what it takes to please me. I’m a demanding bitch.”

He takes my hand and puts it right over his hardening bulge. I squeeze gently. God, I want it. So bad.

“What do you think?” he whispers. “Is that enough for you?”

“Hard to say.”

Rhys narrows his eyes as a smirk crosses his lips. “You fucking turn me on. You know I’m dying to get under that dress.”

“And do what?”

“Bury my tongue in your sweet pussy.”

My eyes open wide for just a moment. I love men that talk dirty. Fucking love it.

“How do you know it’s sweet?”

“I can tell. I love eating pussy. I can do it for a long time. You’ll beg me to stop.”

“I’ll never beg you to stop. I’m insatiable.”

Rhys’s hand moves to my thigh, gripping it. “It seems I’ve met my match.”

“Maybe.”

“Do you like to suck dick?”

“What do you think, Rhys?”

“I think you do, and I think you’re fucking amazing at it. Your lips are so beautiful. I’d love to watch my cock sliding between them.” His dick gets harder as he speaks. “I want to explode in your mouth and watch you swallow it all as just a little bit dribbles down your chin.”

I squeeze his cock, deciding if I’m going through with dinner or just pulling my dress up right now and getting it over with.

“I don’t swallow,” I whisper then lick his cheek. “But I do suck, and I’ll blow your mind if you’re lucky enough.”

“God, you’re sexy. You’re so fucking free. You just go for what you want, don’t you?”

“Yep.”

He puts his hand over mine and presses it into his erection. “You want this? You want me to spread your legs and fuck you right now?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“Right now. Let me just see it, Brooklyn. Hike your dress up and just give me a little glimpse. I won’t do anything, I swear.”

Glancing at the driver for a second, I decide to just go for it, and scoot up until my dress is just high enough for him to see me. He exhales slowly and rubs his crotch.

“Fuck,” he whispers. “That’s nice. You’re driving me crazy.”

“I know.” I pull my dress down and cross my legs like the lady I’m not. “I sure am hungry.”

“So am I.” He kisses my hand. “That was fun.”

I smile. “It was.”

A few minutes later, we get to the restaurant and Rhys escorts me inside where I suddenly feel like American royalty. To say a fuss is made over him would be an understatement. The staff is all over us as we’re led to a table in a quiet corner of the restaurant. After ordering wine, Rhys folds his hands and looks across at me.

“How old are you, Brooklyn?”

“Twenty-six. You?”

“Thirty-two.”

“How’d you get started being a food critic?”

He chuckles. “That’s a funny story. I had a food blog years ago before they were so common. I just went around eating at places that interested me and developed a decent following. Then I reviewed this up and coming chef that had just been hired by one of the major hotels in town. After I published the review, he called me and told me that business shot through the roof and people kept saying they came because of my review. The next thing I knew the
New York Times
was calling and offering me a column. That prestige opened a lot of doors to places I couldn’t get in before. Readers took to me quickly. They liked my honesty, but also how I made it accessible to every day people. My career took off after that.”

“Nice. I admit I enjoyed watching you work on Friday.”

“Why?”

“You have a sensuality about how you describe your experience. It makes food sexy.”

“Food is sexy. Good food, anyway. I’m sure Flynn believes that?”

“He does.”

“You obviously enjoy a good meal yourself.”

“I do. Flynn also taught me that. He taught me how to discern flavors and really appreciate what I’m eating.”

“It’s an odd combination, no? A chef and a fitness expert?”

“It’s perfect really. He feeds me, and I keep us in shape.”

Rhys chuckles. “Good point.” We pause as the wine is delivered. “Tell me, Brooklyn. Do you bring men back to the apartment you share with Flynn?”

“Sometimes.”

“He doesn’t get jealous?”

“Why would he? We’re just friends.”

“Oh, right. I keep forgetting. He looked at you like you were so much more.”

“You’re imagining that.”

“Perhaps. How did you meet?”

“He interviewed at a restaurant I worked at years ago.” I sip my wine. “We actually went on one date, but it was clear we were just gonna be friends.”

“Why?”

I shrug. “I don’t know what it was. I just didn’t want to sleep with him. I wanted to talk and hang out, but not have sex.”

“Ah. So, do you want to have sex with me?”

“I might.”

“Somehow I wish you just wanted to talk and hang out with me, like you did Flynn.”

I tilt my head. “Why?”

“Because I can tell it’s harder to get to your head than it is your body. Am I right?”

“Yeah, you are. I don’t let people get close. I’m down to fuck, but that’s it.”

“How are you with women? Still guarded?”

“Yep.”

“You down to fuck with them, too?”

I smile. “Why would you ask me that?”

“You seem like you have no boundaries. No labels. Pleasure is pleasure.”

“That’s very perceptive of you.” I sip my wine. “I’ve been open to a variety of partners in the past, but I stick with men these days.”

“Mmm, that’s too bad. I’d love to see you with your face between a woman’s legs.”

“You’ll just have to imagine it. That’s not my scene anymore.”

“So if I brought you some gorgeous woman that wanted nothing more than to please you all night, you’d say no?”

“What if I brought home a man to do the same? What if I wanted you to watch him fuck me? What if I wanted to watch him fuck you?”

Rhys grins swishing his wine glass around. “I have no boundaries, Brooklyn. No labels. Pleasure is pleasure.”

I have to force my mouth closed. “You’d fuck a guy to please me?”

“I’d fuck whomever I want to please me.”

“Interesting. Are you bi then?”

“No labels, remember?”

“Okay, so you’ve had sex with men before?”

“Not directly. I’ve had sex with men in the room before. I’ve shared a woman with a man before. I’ve watched a man fuck my woman. I’ve fucked his. I’m very open.”

“I see that.”

“Do you want to be fucked by two men at the same time?”

Swallowing hard, I try to compose myself and the building pressure between my legs. I take a sip of wine.