In the Firelight (25 page)

He had thought he’d never see her again. He’d thought of her almost every second that they’d been apart, his mind feverishly working to undermine McHugh’s plans.

The first step had been selling the stock. As soon as Shea had left his little cabin after the explosive encounter with McHugh, Rhys had contacted Langley. The man had practically been giddy and arranged for the shares to be traded and the money to be deposited in Rhys’ account within the hour.

Then the lawyer… Shea’s lawyer. Without access to his work email anymore, Rhys struggled to remember his name, and finally an internet search turned up Dennis Frankforter’s office in Polson. Initially, the suspicious man hadn’t wanted to discuss anything, citing attorney-client privilege. But then, something Rhys had said changed in his mind.

“I’ll wire the money to you right away. I can have it to you in about an hour. Aside from providing the funds, I don’t want anything to do with this. I want it totally in her name, one-hundred percent solid.”

Dennis was silent for a moment as he considered this. “Why are you doing this, son?” he asked finally.

“I want her to be happy… secure. I don’t want anyone to take anything else from her. She doesn’t want much. She just wants what she already has.”

By the end of the conversation, Rhys had received the information he needed. An hour later, he was wiring the money, and three hours after that, he received word from Dennis that Buddy had signed an air-tight statement relinquishing any claim he might have on the land. Dennis had ensured the money was deposited by Buddy, just as a final acceptance of the agreement.

It was done.

McHugh couldn’t touch her land.

Two days later, Rhys had been sitting in his old office, packing up his personal belongings. Becky had stopped by, looking to start up again where they’d left off in the copy room. Rather contemptuously, though, he’d shooed her from the room, shuddering at the thought of being anywhere near her skanky ass.

Looking around him, he felt empty. He didn’t even want anything that he saw. Not a thing. It all reminded him of the heartlessness of his past working for McHugh. The cold décor, the impersonal clean lines of it all, it seemed so foreign to him after Shea’s warm little cabin in the woods. His heart ached as he thought of the days he had spent there, the phenomenal nights he had held her in his arms. His fingertips ached to caress her soft skin in the glow of the firelight.

He had felt healed, somehow. In the short time they were together, he had found a part of himself that he didn’t even know existed. A part of him that was still lost in the mountains around Snowcreek, Montana.

He could almost hear her voice shouting.

Wait…

That was her voice shouting!

Rhys raced towards McHugh’s office, and there she was.

Beautiful as ever…

…and spitting mad.

Holy shit!
She didn’t know the land was hers.

Rhys spoke and watched with satisfaction as McHugh began to unravel with his news. It was
almost
an absolution. He knew it wouldn’t erase the past, but, for once in his life, he had actually done something good.

And now, Shea sat in his car as he drove through the city streets at a breakneck speed towards his apartment. His hand settled on her knee, and those gorgeous hazel eyes looked up at him.

Fuck…

She was here.

If only for a little while, she was here.

They pulled into the parking garage and he steered the car towards his reserved spot. The second the engine was shut off, they bolted from the car and were all over each other with a renewed fervor that rocked his soul.

He pinned her against the wall of the elevator as it rose to his floor. His hands were everywhere—cupping her face, gripping her hips, tangled in her hair. Almost as if he had to convince himself that she was real.

God, she was here.

With the ping of the doors that signaled they’d arrived at his level, he lifted her in his arms to carry her to his apartment. Shea’s lips traveled down his neck as he rushed down the hall, pressing her against the door while he fumbled to get his key in the lock.

He heard a gasp in the distance, but he didn’t care if anyone saw.

She was here.

That was all he cared about.

And then the door was open, and he set her down just inside, closing the world away. He whipped her sweatshirt over her head and threw it behind him as she began to undo her pants, walking backwards down the hallway. He guided her into the living room and up against the solid heavy arm of the couch. For a moment, Shea ducked low to push her jeans down her legs, and she kicked them off her ankles and threw her arms around his neck, kissing and sucking and biting his lip.

One of her small hands began to slide down his abs, causing all the muscles of his stomach to tighten in anticipation, and his hands reached behind her to flick the clasp of her bra before he removed it and tossed it to the side. Lowering her head to focus on what she was doing, Shea tugged at his belt, undoing his fly

“Christ, Shea…” he mumbled as she released him and stroked his hard length. “Feel how hard I am for you, baby. I can’t think of anything but you.”

He cradled her face in his hands, tugging it up to look at him, and he devoured her lips.

“I’ve missed you…” she whispered against his lips. “Oh Rhys, I’ve missed you.”

She squeezed him, gently massaging his balls and stroking the full throbbing length of him. Her fingertips exquisitely tortured him until he felt like he’d burst if he didn’t bury himself deep inside her immediately.

Rhys reached down to the back of her thighs and lifted slightly, almost seating her on the arm of the couch before tilting her so her body fell back. Her beautiful, sweet, wet pussy was displayed so perfectly before him in the low light. He thrust two thick fingers in her wetness and felt all her inner muscles grip them tightly as a low moan flew from her throat.

“I need to be inside you, Shea. I need to fuck you… hard and fast and rough.”

“Yes,” she groaned with a guttural sound. “Please, Rhys… fill me. Wreck me…”

Rhys slipped his fingers from her luscious, silky core and tugged her closer to him, tucking her legs along his ribs as he lifted her sex towards his pounding, painful erection. And then…

Oh God, finally.

He was inside her again.

He was home.

She was so hot and so ready that his forceful thrust ripped an orgasm from her almost the instant he filled her. His thick length bottomed out in her tight little grasping pussy as the shock waves wracked her petite form. She trembled around him, screaming out in the faint light of the room.

“Rhys, I’m coming!” Shea’s voice was hoarse with her cries. “Oh God, don’t stop. Don’t ever stop!”

She reached up to grab his tie and yanked him towards her as she shook. Rhys caught another scream with his lips, groaning with the flood of wetness around his throbbing cock, feeling the rhythmic tightening of her hot, wet sex clamping down around him.

He stilled for a moment, letting her come down to earth a little, cradling her body in his arms with his tongue delving deep in her mouth.

“Fuck…” Shea whispered. “You fucking me in that suit… Jesus Christ. You’re going to kill me.”

“Sweetheart, I’m not done…” Rhys growled and he pulled out of her and pulled her up to flip her over.

Her beautiful heart-shaped ass was in the air as she bent over the arm of the couch, and he pushed her legs tightly together as his cock probed for her depths. She was so tight like this, almost painfully contracted, and she beckoned him in farther with a circular motion of her hips. Rhys watched his wide length slide in her, back out, and in again. Every motion wrenched a deep moan from Shea. One of his hands held her hips steady as the other slid up her back to grab on to her long and wild hair, tugging slightly and pulling her head back. With a sharp cry, Shea’s body arched and she squeezed against him.

“Oh my God, Shea…” Rhys forced out between gritted teeth as he fought to control his release.
Not yet… Fuck, please… not yet.
But one more wave, one more tremulous ripple tore through her, and Rhys was lost, spilling himself, pouring his heart out inside her.

A soft light poured out of the bathroom, faintly illuminating the clean, crisp lines of his bedroom. Shea lay on her stomach, her face on the pillow turned toward his. Rhys skated his long fingertips along her shoulder blade, down her spine, along the soft curve of her ass. The tender touch caused tears to prick her eyes, triggering the emotions of seeing him again… of touching him again.

Shea lay quietly, not wanting to ruin the silent beauty of the moment, quite possibly the last they would have.

“I broke every one of my rules with you,” he whispered with a tender look in his eyes. “I never let myself feel anything. I never connected with anyone. I never wanted to make someone else happy. I was going through life playing a character…”

Shea’s throat constricted, and she swallowed forcefully.

“I’m a horrible person, Shea. Even worse, I never regretted it… I never had the faintest
desire
to do what was right. Not until I met you.”

“Rhys,” she said softly, ”somewhere inside, you were always capable… You have more heart than you know. Look what you did for me. You saved my home. I don’t know what I would have done.”

His eyes looked troubled as he gazed at her. “I had to help you because I was the one who almost ruined you.” Rhys’ brow knitted tightly. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

Tears pricked her eyes. Her lower lip trembled and a shaky breath escaped her lips. Rhys moved closer, rolling Shea to her back, and he rested his head on the softness of her breast. Shea fought the tears as his arms tightened around her, enveloping her in the sadness of his remorse.

“I don’t deserve to be forgiven. And I don’t know what is next for me. I don’t have anything left to lose. But I’m not the same man I was a few weeks ago. And, for that, I thank you…”

Tears began to stream from Shea’s eyes as this beautiful, strong man found peace in her arms. Her legs tightened around his waist, and her fingers smoothed the dark, messy curls of his hair. The coarse texture of his five o’clock shadow scraped the smooth skin of her breast as he nuzzled deeper, inhaling her as though, with that breath of her, his soul was nourished.

They lay like that for a long time. Shea’s tears dried and still she held him. She kissed the top of his head and soothed him with a tender caress over his muscular shoulders and arms. He slowly began to relax into sleep, and still, she grazed her fingers over his skin, comforting his tattered conscience.

And, finally, long after Rhys had slipped into a deep slumber, Shea’s own eyes grew heavy and she drifted off to sleep.

Chapter 21 ~ The Goodbye

Dressed in flannel sleep pants and a white cotton tee, Rhys stood looking out the windows at the morning sun peeking over the trees, a sliver of light streaking through the dense clouds.

He’d laid there for a good hour, if not more, watching Shea sleeping soundly beside him. A soft kiss on her forehead, and she’d whispered his name with a faint breath.

Rhys…

She was so honest, forthright. Her sweet smile or her angry glare… it was all so real. She didn’t hide who she was, what she wanted. All he had done throughout the years, the cold and deliberate way he’d lived, made him feel tainted… raw.

At least he’d been able to help her. Her security, lonely as it may seem to some, was her quiet little cabin up in the mountains.
Her monstrous dog.
Rhys ruefully smiled at the thought of Wolfie. Right up until Rhys had left Snowcreek, that dog had stared at him with a warranted suspicion, as though he knew what Rhys had buried deep inside.
He was a smart fucker.
Rhys hadn’t deserved his trust.

He hadn’t deserved Shea’s, either.