Bedding the Bachelors Box Set (Books 1-3) (10 page)

While his brother squawked and started asking questions, Rhys hung up on him. He planted his hands on his hips and thrust his jaw out aggressively. “You ready for your next lesson, Ladybug?”

Game on.

***

Melina stared at Rhys and shifted uneasily from one foot to the other.

Next lesson? Was he crazy or was she? Because suddenly she wanted to drop her sheet, wrap herself around him, and never let go.

Fortunately for her, her saner side prevailed. After three failed relationships, she didn't believe it was better to love and lose, rather than never to have loved before. Especially not with Rhys. She loved him. She'd always loved him. But that love, combined with his pulling away from her, had caused her far too much pain of late.

If she was honest with herself, Rhys had hurt her far worse than Brian ever could, and that was not something she was going to ignore. If she held any place in his heart still, she'd have to content herself with that; she wasn't going to voluntarily seek out more only to have him walk away from her again. She turned toward the bathroom. “Um, I think I'll—”

“I feel it only fair to warn you that if you try to hide in the bathroom again, I'll just have to break the door down.”

Surprise came first, then she couldn't help it. She laughed. She laughed long and hard. When she finally managed to control herself and look at him, he was frowning fiercely.

“Glad to know the idea of me exerting enough strength to break down a door amuses you.”

It was the idea of him exerting such effort for her that had made her laugh, but she didn't tell him that. Shaking her head, she bit her lip. “I'm sorry. It's not that. I just…I just laugh when I'm nervous.” Plus, Rhys had just told Max what he normally thought of her. With her, men expected flannel pajamas, pinned-back hair, butt-ugly glasses.

Weren't those the same words Max had used to describe her choice in eye decor?

Even as she appreciated his discretion, she wondered if it was because he was too embarrassed to admit that he'd actually done anything with her. The thought pierced a tender spot inside her, when she'd thought she'd guarded those softer places long ago.

“So I make you nervous? Why is that, do you think?”

Any trace of humor slipped, and she averted her gaze. So he knew he made her nervous. Big deal. Like he hadn't already figured that out a long time ago with the way she always flushed and stuttered around him. “Can you give me my overnight bag? I thought I left it—”

“I gave it to a passing bellboy while you were in the bathroom.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You did not.”

He shrugged. “No, I didn't. But I did hide it. I don't want you getting dressed and rushing out of here before we talk.”

“But that's…that's—” she sputtered.

“Childish? Hey, desperate times and all that. But if you want to look around, then by all means…” He waved his hand in invitation.

For a moment, she just stared at him. What was motivating him to be so difficult about this? He had to know she was embarrassed about the mix-up, yet he was forcing her to confront him. Why wouldn't he just let it go? Why was he getting so much pleasure from her humiliation?

The answer came to her so suddenly that she felt foolish for not thinking of it sooner. This was obviously about the competitive male ego. He was probably offended that she'd asked Max for the favor and not him. Well, he didn't need any more ego stroking from her. Her performance last night should have already told him that she was putty in his hands.

She glanced around but didn't see her bag anywhere. Her purse, however, was by the television. Next to his cologne and that box of condoms. She snatched her purse, rifled through it, and found her spare glasses. With a mutinous thrust of her chin, she put them on. Her vision immediately focused, making her feel slightly calmer. “Honestly, Rhys,” she said, trying to sound bemused. “I don't know why you won't just give me my bag. All I want is my clothes.”

“Because seeing you all naked and pink and wearing nothing but those glasses would give me enormous pleasure.” He stepped closer to her and tugged playfully at the sheet that she clutched with whitened knuckles. “Lots of men dream of being taken by the prim librarian who's really a wildcat in bed. That's what this is all about, right? Learning how to please a man? I think we established last night that I qualify as a member of the male species. At least by touch. Would you like to see the proof itself?” His hands hovered over the button fly of his jeans.

“You're not funny.”

He smiled and shrugged. “Funny is the last thing I'm trying to be.”

She pondered what he'd said. “Do men really fantasize about librarians? I would have thought the average male liked something more overt. That's why porn flicks and skin magazines are so popular, isn't it?”

Now it was his turn to erupt in laughter. “Skin magazines?”

“What? That's what they're called, aren't they?”

“Sure, by some people. I just never thought to hear that term coming from your pretty lips.”

The casual compliment made her blush, but she immediately batted the pleasure it caused away. “Oh, you view me as asexual?”

In an instant, his expression grew serious. Heated. “I've never thought of you as asexual. Not by a long shot and certainly not after last night. Honey, you've got more passion in you than most men could handle.”

“Most, but not you, right?”

“I think I 'handled' you pretty well last night.” Reaching out, he gripped her chin between his thumb and forefinger, refusing to let her turn away. “Now, why don't you tell me what possessed you to go to Max in the first place? Your ex sold you a bill of goods, Melina, and I would think you're way too smart to fall for it.”

Too smart? Yes, that was her. Her brain told her that Brian was just an insecure man with an average-size penis that needed to “diss” her in order to feel more manly. But her bruised heart—the heart that longed to find love and companionship and family—told her that it was her own fault she was alone. Which meant admitting to herself that Brian was actually right. She
had
lain there like a board half the time. Because she'd never felt inspired to do otherwise. Until last night. “Why didn't you tell Max what happened when he called?”

“Because what happens between you and me has nothing to do with him.”

He looked so fierce, so possessive, that she shivered. “In this case, it did. He tricked you, didn't he?”

“He didn't trick me. He just didn't tell me what was waiting for me.”

“And if he had?”

“If he had, I wouldn't have waited for you to do your little fashion spin. I would have been on top of you before the door shut.”

Her entire body responded to his quiet statement. Her skin prickled, her nipples peaked, and her pussy wept. She would've sworn that if he were to touch her hair at that moment, she would come so hard she'd probably black out. She urged her mind to quiet the urges of her body and be logical. “Liar,” she whispered. “You haven't called. You haven't visited. You haven't wanted anything to do with me.”

“Not because I didn't want you.” He hesitated. “You didn't exactly advertise that you wanted me.”

“I-I didn't—”

“Don't lie,” he commanded, cupping the back of her head and pulling her in to his chest. Stunned, she closed her eyes and soaked him in. With a slow, firm hand, he rubbed her lower back. “We've lied to each other enough, don't you think? You might have picked Max to be your tutor, but it was my name you said before you fell asleep last night. And I want you, Melina. I'm willing to say it. I'm willing to act on it.”

She leaned back to meet his gaze, doubt and suspicion boiling inside her. “Why now? After all this time?”

“Because you offered it to me.”

“I pushed it on you.”

“That's a stupid thing to say, and you're not stupid.”

“Yes, well, here's where my stupidity ends.” Pulling away, she urged, “If you'll just get me my clothes, I'll get out of here.”

“Why? You were willing to sleep with Max. Was it because you love him?”

“No! I mean, of course, I love him, the same way I love you. We're family. I don't want to ruin that, Rhys, and what you're talking about will. Admit it. We want different things in our lives and trying to pretend otherwise would be foolish.”

He didn't contradict her. How could he? “You and Max want different things, too. Why were you willing to let him teach you but not me?”

Ah, so she'd been right. This was about his male ego. “Because he was around, for one.”

“I'm here now. And I've got the weekend, just like you and Max agreed, right?”

Alarm bells blared in her head. “Yes, but—”

“And I think we established last night that we have chemistry. That I have the skill to make you come.” He said it quietly, with none of the cockiness that would have made her question her attraction to him.

Instead, Melina struggled to breathe in the rapidly thinning air. “Your skill has never been in question. And my ability to…to—” She felt herself turning beet red. “—climax isn't in issue. It's my ability to pleasure a man that is.”

“Says you.”

“Says Brian Montgomery. Lars Jensen. Gary Somada.”

“Idiots. If they wanted something from you, they didn't work hard enough for it. Besides, I can show you how to please a man.”

“You seemed more concerned with pleasing me last night.”

“The two things aren't independent. I showed you one thing that gives a man pleasure. Submission. Total trust by his partner. But there are other things you can do, and I'll show them to you if you'll let me.”

The alarm in her head was still sounding, but somehow it had quieted a bit. Curiosity, she told herself. That's all. She wasn't actually going to consider his proposition. Was she?

At her continued silence, he pressed on. “Don't get me wrong. I'm not immune to some satisfaction, as well. I put in some work last night. I think I'm entitled to a little return on my investment, don't you?”

Her alarm kicked up a notch. “So this is about paying a debt owed? Compensating you for services rendered?”

“This is about you and me and giving each other the best sex we've ever had.”

“See? That's exactly it. If you're expecting great sex from me, it'll never work. I'll be anxious. Feel pressured. You're deluding yourself if you think I can compete with the women you've been with, Rhys.”

He raised a brow. “And you're underestimating my ability to inspire you.”

Okay. Her curiosity was definitely getting the better of her now. Melina forced herself not to think of Rhys's special brand of inspiration. “We barely know each other anymore—”

“You know that's not true. Like you said, Melina, we're almost family. What we're doing this weekend might not fit within the boundaries of our previous relationship, but once it's over, I want to know you're going to be okay. I can help you. Why won't you let me?”

Once it's over, he'd said. Once he was gone, he meant. A wave of sadness washed over her. If she understood him correctly, this was to be their swan song to whatever relationship they'd been clinging to. Sort of like his parting gift to her. Since it had been coming for a while, she tried not to show how much the thought devastated her. Or swayed her.

As soon as the weekend was over, he'd be leaving again. Who knew when she'd see him next? She'd be a fool not to take what he was offering.

“And then what?” she forced herself to ask, even though she already knew the answer.

“What were you going to do after you and Max were done with each other?”

It seemed obscene somehow, the way he kept bringing Max into this. Which was silly, of course. “We were going to part friends. Go back to the way things always were. No expectations. No embarrassment.”

He seemed to hesitate for a moment, then said, “I can do that. Can you?”

Given his cavalier attitude, what else could she say? Slowly, she nodded.

Satisfaction gleamed in his eyes. “Good.”

He moved forward and she tensed, expecting him to reach out and kiss her. Anticipation streaked through her, but all he did was turn, bend his knees slightly, and retrieve a familiar-looking bag from under the desk. He tossed it onto the bed next to her. “Now get dressed.”

She stared at the bag blankly. “Now you want me to get dressed?”

He smiled slightly. “Yep.”

“Why?”

He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Because, my dear Melina, the next lesson involves something the best magicians and lovers know how to work with a very subtle yet sure hand.”

“What's that?” she whispered.

“Unpredictability.”

Dalton's Magic Rule #7: Don't forget your magic wand.

As he turned Melina's car onto the freeway that would lead them north of Sacramento, Rhys had to struggle not to show his amusement. Although she was valiantly trying to act nonchalant, he'd definitely thrown her off balance. And if he was reading her correctly, and Rhys had a definite talent when it came to reading people, she was a bit disgruntled that she was fully clothed going who knows where instead of enjoying more time in his arms and in his bed.