Play With Me, Baby(8)

“He was just being nice,” I chided when he stopped to open the passenger side door of his car for me.

He smiled down at me as he helped me into the seat and leaned over to belt me in. I tried to bat his hands away but he ignored my attempts. “You keep thinking that, angel,” he whispered against my lips. “Because if you keep on missing the looks other men send you, I might not have to kill anyone.”

I didn’t have a comeback for that, so I kept quiet when he climbed into the car and pulled away from the curb. Full from our amazing meal and tired from a long day, I fell asleep only a couple minutes after we left the restaurant as Rhys drove me home. Or, at least, that’s where I thought he was taking me until I woke up when the engine cut off and I found myself staring up at a huge house I didn’t recognize.

“Where are we?”

“My place.”

Sharp disappointment stabbed through me. Even with all the sparks flying between us at dinner, Rhys had acted like the perfect gentleman. He hadn’t even so much as stolen a kiss, even though there had been a few moments when he’d come awfully close. He’d lulled me into a false sense of security, only to show his true colors by assuming a dinner date meant I’d go home with him.

“Just because I work at a sex toy shop doesn’t mean I’m easy.” My voice cracked at the end, the hurt I was feeling coming through loud and clear.

“No! Shit. Fuck,” he hissed, jumping out of the car and rushing around to my side to throw the door open and bend down next to me, taking my hands in his. “I never, not for even for one second, thought you were easy.”

“Then why did you bring me to your house?” I asked softly.

“Because I don’t know where you live, angel. You fell asleep before I asked, and I didn’t want to bother Weston. If I interrupted him and Aspen again tonight, I’d probably find myself in a shallow grave come morning.”

The breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding rushed out of my lungs in relief. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh,” he chuckled. “You were awfully quick to jump to the conclusion that I made assumptions about you because of where you work.”

“It happens sometimes.”

“What happens?”

“Guys figure that I’m a certain kind of girl because of where I work,” I explained. “I’m probably just feeling overly sensitive because I had a male customer yesterday who asked me if I was a bad girl. He didn’t wait for me to answer before he told me I must be one since I worked in a place like Dirty Players. And then he made it clear how much he likes bad girls."

I was rambling and it didn’t occur to me that it was a bad idea until Rhys abruptly dropped my hands. He yanked his phone out of his pocket, jabbing his finger at the screen while he muttered to himself.

“What are you doing?”

“Making a note to myself,” he murmured distractedly.

“A note to do what?”

His eyes pierced through me when they lifted to meet mine. “To go through the security tapes so I can figure out the name of the guy I’m going to kill.”





Rhys



I was tempted to put in a call to Xander right then, but some part of my brain was still functioning rationally and it told me to calm down so I didn’t frighten my angel.

To my surprise, she snatched my phone from my hand and glared at me. “You’ll do no such thing! I can take care of myself and conjugal visits are not on my list of things to do before I die, so I suggest you curb your murderous impulses.“

My head fell backwards as I roared with laughter. Damn, she was feisty, and so fucking adorable. All of the anger drained away, replaced with warmth and the sharp bite of lust. Bringing her to my home was probably a stupid idea, especially since I was trying to go slow and convince her that she was more than just one night for me.

I could have easily found her address by looking at her license, but the need to have her in my space—our space—had taken on a life of its own and steered the car to my home.

Still smiling, I leaned in and kissed her cheek, ghosting my lips over the cute smattering of freckles. There was a flash of disappointment in her eyes when I retreated and I fought the desire to grin in smug satisfaction.

I reached in and unbuckled her, then took her hands to help her from the car. “I have a big guest room you can sleep in, with your very own bathroom. Do you work tomorrow?”

Macy hesitated, her intense green eyes studying me, then she nodded. “Three to close.”

I stifled my sigh of irritation and silently vowed to get her away from that fucking job as soon as possible. Taking her hand, I guided her from the driveway, up the twisting path to the front door. “A friend of mine will be taking care of your car. I’ll drop you off at work and pick you up tomorrow night.”