25. Shaun

IcanhearRhys up in my room as I climb the narrow flight of stairs to the attic. There’s music playing faintly, probably from her phone. It’s a female singer, someone I haven’t heard before, and it kind of sounds grungy. Edgy. It’s a sound that suits the vibe my girl has going for herself—very Rhys George.

Yeah, yeah. I fucking said, my girl, because that’s what she is. I never thought I’d lay claim to a chick, especially at my age, yet here I fucking am. Rhys George is mine, and yeah, I’ll share her if that’s what she wants and needs. I feel like I’d do just about anything for this crazy chick. She’s got me by the balls, in a good way.

Reaching the top of the stairs, I step into my room and see Rhys standing at my bookshelf with her back to me. I thought it would be weird having her in my space. I’ve never brought a chick home before, yet as I watch her finger skim over the spine of one of my books, a warm feeling settles in my gut.

Her hair is down, its length brushing the top of her arse and fuck, I love that sight. It’s still damp, but not the mess it was when she arrived at Vixen’s Lodge earlier. My gaze travels down to see she’s only wearing an oversized t-shirt. It’s either grey or was once black and has been worn so much that it’s now grey, and it ends right under her arse cheeks where her long legs begin. They look like silk, and I know if I run my hand up her legs, they will feel that way too. Everything about this chick calls to me.

“Hungry?” My voice comes out raspy, so I clear my throat as I watch her turn to me.

Like the fuckboy I am, my eyes enjoy a slow perusal travelling up the front of her legs, reaching that greyish t-shirt to see a faded picture on it with the word Flyleaf. Then I lift my eyes to her face. For a moment, I can’t breathe. I’m not sure if my heart stops or my lungs forget how to fucking inhale oxygen, but I’m absolutely stunned and rooted on the spot as I take in her face.

Her soft creamy skin has a faint flush to it, especially over her cheeks. Her lips, which are usually painted black, dark purple, or a deep red, are now nothing but a blushed natural pink, looking plumper than I’ve ever seen them. Then there are her eyes. She usually has those dark pools covered in that black stuff chicks paint on their lashes and lids, so dark that it makes her eyes look nearly black. Now, however, there’s nothing but her beautiful creamy skin encasing natural dark lashes that fan her rich chocolate eyes. Gone are the harsh standout features of the makeup she hides behind every day. Now, all there is, is the most stunning woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.

“Earth to Bossi.” Rhys steps closer, waving a hand in front of my face. “You, ok?”

“You’re stunning,” I whisper, not able to contain my thoughts.

Instantly, her face drops, and she stops on the spot. She hates compliments. For some reason, they make her feel uncomfortable. I want more than anything for her to feel good about receiving them. To know, I mean them. If only she could see herself through my eyes.

I lift my hand as if to reach out to her, forgetting that I’m holding a plate of food, and I nearly drop the fucking thing. Darting forward, Rhys grabs hold of the plate in an attempt to save it, which leaves us both standing awkwardly, gripping the same piece of porcelain.

“Is this for me?” She asks quietly, so I nod and release the plate. “Thanks.”

There’s a faint grin lifting those kissable lips of hers. A sight I hope to see more often.

Moving over to my desk, Rhys sits down on my gaming chair and starts to eat the food I re-heated for her. Mama’s carer cooks a roast dinner for us on Sundays, and there are always leftovers that we use for lunches for a day or two. Today, Jenny cooked roast pork. Not everyone is a fan of pork, but as I watch Rhys eat what I gave her, I get a sense of satisfaction. I realise I really do enjoy looking after her.

“Who’s this singing?” Leaning against my bookshelf, I cross my arms over my chest and look down to those plump pink lips as they consume the food I served her.

Rhys leans back in the chair, sweeping her tongue over her lips before pointing to her t-shirt. “Flyleaf. Have you heard them before?”

I shake my head. “No, but I like what I’m hearing.”

She smiles, “Lacey has the best voice, don’t you think? She’s the lead singer… well, was. She parted ways with the band, but their music lives on. I think she’s pretty sick!”

I smile. It’s nice to see my Kitten interested in something other than sex.

“Well, Kitten, I’m a fan. I’ll look them up on Spotify.”

Rhys beams, flashing her teeth before returning her focus to the veggies left on her plate. I watch her quietly, giving her this time to relax and feel safe. I want her to feel that here. I want her to feel that with me. She’s been so off since coming back to school. I’m positive that whatever has her so rattled tonight has something to do with why she wasn’t around at the start of term. I could be really fucking wrong, and I know the shit with Marcus on Thursday has made things worse for her. I guess she’s got a lot going on right now. The problem is, she doesn’t fucking talk about it. She just wants to fuck her problems away, which is only a temporary reprieve. But if that’s what she needs tonight, I’ll give it to her. If she thinks she’s going to get away with not talking about shit, though, she’s not gonna like me much by the time I’m done.

“Oh man, that was so good.” Rhys moans, relaxing back in the chair again.

I grin. “I’ll be sure to let Jenny know you approve.”

“Jenny? Is that your mum’s name?” She frowns, her eyes going distant like she’s trying to remember if I’ve ever told her my mum’s name. I chuckle.

“Jenny is my mama’s carer. My mama’s name is Gabriella.”

Deep dark eyes lock with mine as Rhys’ face softens, “Your mum has a carer… Is she sick?”

I nod. “Mama has MS. It’s been getting worse lately.”

A level of compassion I haven’t seen Rhys express before sweeps across her face. Standing from the chair, she steps over to me, and I unravel my arms to tug her close when she presses herself against me.

“I’m sorry, Shaun. I didn’t know your mum was sick.”

“It’s all g, Kitten.” I offer her a small smile, but she shakes her head.

“No. It’s not. Shit.” She shakes her head again, her eyes darting down briefly before looking back to mine. “You don’t need my crap on top of everything.”

I can see she’s about to pull away from me. Maybe even grab her bag and leave. Fuck that. I’m not letting her go, so I tighten my arms, holding her to me.

“My mama has been sick for years. Yeah, it sucks, and I hate seeing her getting frailer, but I’ve learned to live with it.” I lift my hand, and using my fingers, I stroke her silky dark hair back and tuck it behind one ear. “As for your crap. I do need it. All of it. I can’t explain it, Kitten. I just know I need you. I need to help you. Look after you.” I lean closer. “Pleasure you.” I wag my brows at that, hoping to get a smile out of her to replace the dead-serious expression on her face.

It works.

“Wanna tell me what happened today? Tonight?” I ask, hoping she won’t turn and run.

Right before my eyes, I watch as her warm smile transforms into a cold, blank stare. Then she presses her palm against my chest, trying to push away. I don’t give in, though. She’s in my arms, and I’m not letting go.

“Kitten?”

“I don’t want to talk about today. Can we just fuck, or if you’d prefer, I can leave and go to Tillie’s?”

I shake my head. “Nope. Not happening. You’re my prisoner tonight, Kitten.”

I thought she’d gone cold on me a moment ago, but that’s nothing to how her body stiffens, and her eyes widen now.

What did I say wrong?

“I’m joking, George. You’re my guest, and I’d like you to stay the night with me.” When her expression doesn’t change, I whisper. “Please?”

“Sorry…” She shakes her head, her lids squeezing tight for a moment. “I’m a bit messed up right now,” Rhys admits, and fuck if that doesn’t slice my chest open.

My girl, who’s normally full of life, laughter, and sexual innuendo, looks nothing but defeated.

“Let me take care of you, Kitten. Will you let me do that?” I keep my eyes on hers, even when she looks away to think. Then she nods, returning her chocolate gaze to me.

“Ok.”

Her voice is so quiet and small, the opposite of who Rhys George is. She’s a big personality. The life of the party. The bridge between a dull, boring world and one filled with colour and vibrance.

“You need the bathroom or anything before we head to bed?”

She shakes her head, “Nah. I’m ok.” She steps back from me and picks up her drink bottle, taking a quick sip. “Oh, I forgot to tell you, I ran into your brother before, out in the hall.”

“You met Derek?” Shit, I should’ve given him a heads up that we have a guest.

“Yep. He’s a closet gay, isn’t he?”

My brows shoot up at her observation.

“How’d you know? Did he say something?”

Rhys grins, “Nope. But he was so shocked to see me coming out of the bathroom that he didn’t cover his phone. He was on Grindr.”

“Oh.” I chuckle. I’m going to give him so much shit for that. “So, how’d you know he’s a closet gay, then?”

“Well, when I asked him if he’s had any luck on Grindr and pointed to his phone, he fucking panicked and looked around like he just got sprung by the fun police.”

“Fuuuck. I can just imagine his face.” I laugh. “Our old man doesn’t know, and Derek wants to keep it that way.”

“Is your dad a homophobe?”

I nod. “Yep. He can’t wrap his head around anything other than what the bible says.”

Rhys pouts. “That sucks for your brother.”

I nod, “Come on, Kitten, let’s get you up to my bed.”

She grins playfully, and given how upset she was earlier, I fucking love the sight of it.

“I have to say, Bossi, your room is epic. It’s a good use of the small space.”

I grin back, glancing around my small attic bedroom. There’s a lot of wasted space in here because the walls are short, and we are basically standing in a converted roof space, but me and Derek built the small loft that sits above my desk area to make it more liveable. The small loft consists of my bed and a narrow wrap around ledge. One of the best parts is the skylight window in the gable ceiling above my mattress. It’s a cosy squeeze up there, and I can’t stand up or anything, but fuck, I love laying up there and falling asleep under the stars, or in tonight’s case, a storm. It has to be one of my favourite places to be, other than between Kitten’s thighs.

“Derek helped me build it when my mum’s carer needed to start staying overnight. I gave up my bedroom, which is now used as a guest room. Jenny is the only one that uses it. She’s been staying more often lately.”

“You really gave up your bedroom for that?” Rhys asks, her eyes softening around the edges, and I nod. “Wow, Cass, you’re such a good guy. Not many people would do that.”

I shrug. “I’d do anything for my mama. I’d do anything for you too, Kitten.”

There’s that faint tinge to her cheeks again. So beautiful, especially with the way she is right now. Natural and makeup-free.

“So, is that thing going to support the both of us?” Changing the conversation, Rhys points up to my loft. “You know… because you built it.”

The mischievous grin gives me a glimpse of the fun-loving version of Rhys George, so I dart forward to grab her, but the little minx darts away. She quickly realises she doesn’t have anywhere to go because my room is like an oversized closet type of small, so I easily catch her wrapping my arms around her waist from behind and tugging her against my body. Instantly, Thor awakens, rising to meet his siren.

“You’re not getting away from me,” I growl against the hair falling over her ear, and she sinks back into me, causing friction with her fine arse that has Thor rock hard. With her pressed against my body, I run one hand up her front to cup one of her perfect handfuls, and I ease my other hand lower to cup the heat between her silky legs.

“Shaun.” She breathes, pushing her hips forward, seeking more.

Still pressed up behind her, I steer her towards the step ladder that leads up to my loft bed.

“Up,” I command, and Rhys moves forward out of my hold to climb up to the loft. As she takes each step, I get a devious view of her arse and the moist spot on her pink panties between her legs. Fuuuck. I can’t help myself. I reach up and press my fingers against the damp patch.

“You’re so wet, Kitten. Is that for me?”

Any other girl would probably squeal and go shy, darting the rest of the way up. Not Rhys George, though. Not my Kitten.

Stopping where she is on the step ladder, Rhys tilts her head down towards me, looking pleased as fuck. “Of course, Casanova. You make me gush.”

Fucking Thor lurches forward, almost taking me with him like he’s a fucking dog on a leash, dragging me along behind him.

In! In! I want in!

Calm the fuck down, you beast!

Drawing my fingers away from the heat that has me practically blowing a fuse, I slap her arse, which extracts a giggle before she moves quickly the rest of the way up.

Remembering that I don’t have any protection up there because I never bring chicks home, I go to my bag and dig the new box out, tearing it open with my teeth before climbing up to heaven.

When I reach the top, Rhys has already positioned herself in the centre of the bed. Her face is peaceful as she stares up through the skylight, watching the faint flashes of lightning that still light up the sky from wherever the storm has moved to.

Reaching over to the switch next to the end of my bed, I flick on the LED lights that line the underside of the mattress and then turn off the main light in the room. A smile spreads across my face as Rhys notices the warm glow, giving my loft bed a different vibe. It probably looks romantic or something.

Grabbing out a dinger, I toss the box in the top corner of my bed and crawl up over Rhys, pressing my lips to the soft skin of her legs as I go. When I reach the hem of her shirt, I straddle her legs and ease her shirt up slowly, keeping my eyes locked on hers as she watches me.

For a few long moments, I’m able to keep her in my trance, her eyes held to mine by an invisible bond. With our eyes connected like this, a new level of vulnerability opens up between us. The thought has me excited because I’d do anything to see past her walls, but it’s short-lived.

Our connection is severed when she darts her eyes away, and I realise the intimate connection we shared has made her uncomfortable. I want to ask her why, yet I hold my words in, too chicken shit that I’ll make her bolt. We’ve exchanged intimate looks before, maybe not quite as intense, so hopefully, her discomfort is related to reeling from whatever happened today that sent her over the edge, and not because she feels awkward from some sort of unrequited love thing.

Get your head back in the game, Casanova. Show her what things could be like.

After I help her out of her Flyleaf t-shirt, tossing it in the corner on top of the condom box, I take a moment to run my gaze over her stunning body. Her nipples are pebbled into hard peaks, and goosebumps feather across her skin as she lies on my bed, her long dark hair fanning out under her head on my pillow. Fuck, she looks like a goddess. A goddess just for me.

A small whimper falls from those plump pink lips, her hips lifting a little at the same time.

“What’s wrong, Kitten? You hungry?”

“Famished.” She whispers.

“You haven’t eaten today?” And no. I’m not talking about actual food. Rhys George is a sex-machine. I doubt she’d go a day without an orgasm or two.

She shakes her head. “Not really. Just an appetiser or two.”

I know what she’s talking about. My little minx has done the job herself and got herself off today.

“When?” I ask, and her brows lift in question. “When did you touch yourself?”

“Earlier.” She’s giving me nothing, but I need to know more.

Leaning forward, I softly roll and pinch her nipple, causing her back to arch, pushing those two mounds up until she’s straining.

I chuckle.

“Be more specific. When did you touch yourself, Kitten?”

“This morning. And this afternoon.” She bites her lower lip as I use both hands to tweak those fucking lickable nipples.

“Where were you this morning?”

“At home.” She whimpers.

“Where at home?” Leaning down, I flick my tongue over one nipple and then the other.

“Bedroom.” She pants.

“How did you do it?” I urge, and she shakes her head as another whimper falls past her lips. “Tell me, Kitten. How did you get yourself off this morning in your bedroom? Did you use your fingers?”

She shakes her head, keeping her eyes shut as her desire builds.

“A toy?” I ask, and again, she shakes her head, so I pull back, and her eyes fly open. “Tell me how you made yourself come this morning.”

“On my bed.” She growls, shooting me daggers.

“Not where. I asked how.”

“That is how. My bed.” Her face reddens in frustration, making those cheeks glow like beacons.

Her bed? “I’m confused. You used your bed to get yourself off?”

“Yes.” She nods. “Enough with the questions. Fuck me, Cass.”

This time, I shake my head.

“Yeah-Nah. I’m not fucking you until you answer my questions. Tell me how your bed made you come.”

“Cass, please.” She begs, but I shake my head, not backing down. “Fine! I rubbed myself on the corner of my mattress until I came. Now fuck me already!”

I tilt my head to the side. “You rubbed yourself against the mattress. The corner?” I point to the corner of my mattress to make sure I understand correctly. When she nods, I try to picture it. “Fuck, that’s hot, Kitten. One day, I’m going to ask you to show me. Would you do that?”

Again, if she were any other girl, she’d be embarrassed and shy, but not my girl. She nods.

“Of course. As long as you come all over my naked arse the moment I come.”

And there’s Thor. Pre-cum oozing out as the fucker drools.

“Deal.” I dart down and claim her lips, not wanting to waste any more time. Our tongues clash in desperation, and I ignore the sting from my cut lip as she winds her arms around my neck, trapping me against her. With our bodies pressed tight, a frenzy takes over as our hips meet with feverish friction.

As much as I want to bury myself between her silky thighs, I don’t want this to be over too soon, so I can’t let Thor sink inside her just yet. I want to make her explode. I want to watch her come undone.

Pulling back, I kiss a trail down her neck and chest as she writhes under me. Then, sitting up, I drag those pink panties off her and spread her legs wide. My mouth waters at the glistening sight of her bare pussy, the small patch of dark hair like an arrow directing me to heaven just in case I somehow forget where her on-switch is.

“Rhys.” I keep my voice quiet so she knows I’m being serious. When her dark eyes lock on mine, I tell her the truth, even though I know she doesn’t want to hear it. “You really are the most stunning woman alive. Every time it’s just you and me together, I want you to be like this for me.” I gesture to my face as an example. “No makeup. Just all you. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Her withering stills under me, and my normally confident minx is gone, leaving behind a seventeen-year-old girl with a world of worry in her eyes.

Remembering what Mr Foster said to me the other day, I speak the language she knows and understands so well. I use the currency she’s comfortable with.

Sex.

“I’m going my make you come, Kitten. And then, I’m going to fuck you until you realise how fucking serious I am about how beautiful you are, so that next time we are together like this, you will feel just as beautiful as the way I see you.”

Those perfect pink lips part as a small breath escapes her, and then I slide my fingers down through the centre of her folds before slipping two digits home.

We both moan as my fingers fill and stretch her. She’s so wet. So ready. So needy. I’m desperate to dive in and lick her clean. I hold back, though, because I need more answers.

“Kitten, tell me where you were this afternoon when you got yourself off.”

Her eyes dart open, and she goes to speak a refusal, but I hook my fingers up, pressing on her upper wall as my thumb reacquaints itself with her needy clit, and her words are lost. The only sound her pretty pink lips reveal is a pleasured moan and some gasping pants.

“Answer me, Kitten. Where were you?”

“I-I-I, oh fuck, I can’t think when you’re doing that.” She moans out, and my lips tug north.

“Ok. I’ll stop then.” I still my fingers, and she whimpers, her hand flying to mine, pressing it hard against her wet heat so I can’t withdraw my fingers.

“Don’t stop.”

“Answer me then,” I growl.

“I don’t want to talk about this afternoon.”

Now I know that whatever bad thing happened to her today, happened this afternoon.

“You give me the answers, Kitten, and I’ll reward you.”

“For fuck’s sake, have you been talking with Tyler? Comparing fuck stories?”

“What?” I frown. “No! What does that even mean?”

Grabbing my hand, she starts moving it with her own, seeking the pleasure I stopped giving her. “Never mind, just make me come, Cass.”

“I will. Give me answers, though. Where were you?”

“I’ll answer if you don’t stop.”

“Deal.” I grin, and I start moving my fingers inside her again, my thumb pressing gently to her clit.

“I was… on the train.” She pants out, and I frown.

“Train?”

“Yes.” She moans.

“Why were you on a train?”

“That has nothing… to do with me getting… myself off.” She pants again.

“True,” I say reluctantly, knowing that the destination of that train ride is important, but maybe not for the current situation. “So, you made yourself come on a train. Where were you on the train?”

“Toilet cabin.” She licks her lips, and her hand flies to her nipple as she rolls it between her fingers. Fuck, she’s perfect.

“Please tell me you used your fingers this time and not a surface in that room?”

Laughter bursts free as her eyes fly open, her white teeth bright in the dark space. “No, I didn’t rub myself up against the train toilet.”

“So, you used your fingers?” When she nods, I add, “Rubbing on the inside or outside?”

“Both.” She whimpers as I work my thumb faster.

“How many fingers?”

“Three.” She declares, so naturally and unabashed, that I reward her by adding another digit to the party, sinking it in and stretching her. Her moan is loud and the most beautiful sound. I want to record it so I can listen to it every time I jack myself off.

“Were you sitting on the toilet?”

She nods.

“Another thing I’m going to get you to show me one day, Kitten.”

She nods again, her inner walls swelling as she gets closer to the climax she’s seeking.

“And when you show me that, I’m going to cum in your mouth.”

She explodes. Her cries are loud, and I slap my hand over her mouth, hoping my brother didn’t hear. Then her teeth sink into my palm, and she rides out her orgasm until her body falls lax.

Watching Rhys George’s face as she comes has to be the most exquisite thing I’ve ever seen. Her expression is almost pained, yet her body tells me how epic it feels. If there was any pain, it was the good kind.

As Rhys livens up again, her body igniting to life, desperate for more, she reaches for me, and I quickly sheath my cock in latex before slamming home.

I’ve fucked Rhys before. I’ve fucked many chicks before, but nothing was like this. Not tonight. Not right here with me and her alone in my bed, her vulnerability on display, her naked face nothing but the natural beauty of an angel.

All I can think as Thor pistons inside her is that this right here is my ultimate. Nothing will ever compare to Rhys George and the way I feel about her. I know here and now that even if she thinks she can’t have a relationship with me or anyone else, I’m going to make it my mission to prove her wrong. I’ll show her it doesn’t matter if she leads a different lifestyle and has different needs than the average girl. She can have everything she’s ever dreamed of and more. Rhys George is mine, and I’m never letting her go.