someone else's fishing line."
"Maybe you need to narrow down your fishing waters," Rhys said from the stove.
"To what? A pond? That's equal to me sleeping with my brother. Lots of inbreeding in ponds."
"How about a lake?"
"Like a great lake? Or like a swimming hole kind of lake."
"Maybe a little smaller than a great lake. You deserve to be picky about what you want. Don't settle for someone just because they're marginally better than your ex. Know what you want and go find it."
"What I want is moot if he doesn't want me back," I murmured.
Silence fell upon us. He knew I was referring to him. Since the night of my party, over two months ago, my feelings grew exponentially. What was lust and infatuation blossomed into something deeper as our "friendship" also grew. I hid it well, though, and never asked for more than I got, and I also made sure not to sleep with him again. I wasn't exactly sure how I would feel afterward, but I was leaning toward pain.
Sometimes I thought he felt something for me, too. Sometimes after kissing me, he'd look at me with such a powerful expression, it made me want to cry. But then his face would cloud over and he would stop touching me for the rest of the day.
"Do you think Gary will come back?" He asked, shattering the silence several minutes later.
"Oh. I don't know. Probably not."
"He's probably pretty mad about his balls."
"Yeah," I frowned. "I'll just make sure the windows are locked."
"I'll stay tonight. I'll feel better knowing you're not at his mercy."
"That's very valiant of you, kind sir. Hey, my face is numb."
"You can take the ice off," he chuckled.
I threw the icepack in the sink with my wasted cigarette and joined Rhys at the stove. He was making some kind of sauce with white wine, and on the back burner, boneless chicken breast cooked in a big pan.
"What are you making me?"
"Chicken in a white wine sauce, and fresh asparagus."
"Yum."
"No more smoking, okay?" He looked at me seriously.
I nodded, mesmerized. It was that look in his eyes again. What the hell.
The moment passed and the conversation changed, but my heart never left my throat.
Chapter Fourteen
"It doesn't make sense," Rhys was saying early the next morning.
"It makes perfect sense."
"You have had my dick in your mouth, but you don't want to share your toothbrush?"
"Yeah, and you using my toothbrush would be equivalent to you putting your own dick in your mouth ," I said pointedly.
"If that's the case then I often have my own dick in my mouth, because I often have my tongue in your mouth."
"Oh," I said, realizing his words rang true. Silently, reluctantly, I handed over my personal toothbrush.
He took it with a triumphant grin. I raised an eyebrow and openly stared at his bare chest and the line of hair that led down to glory. He looked back at me, checking out my bare legs, as I was only wearing a t-shirt.
We slept in my bed after a night of kissing and sensual touching, but no sex. He must have understood my thoughts and feelings on it even though I never verbalized it, because when things started to get hot and heavy, he was the one that pulled away first.
"What's your obsession with using my toothbrush anyway?" I asked.
"It's in your mouth at least twice a day, every day," he said around my brush. "I really like your mouth."
I felt my face redden and my vagina twitch. I turned away and left him in the bathroom. A couple of minutes later, he emerged from the bathroom, looking sexy as hell in his lounge pants and no shirt. I couldn't peel my eyes away.
"See something you like?" He asked.
"I may have to take a cold shower," I said huskily.
"That won't help you, baby," he said, closing the space between us. Maybe it was a bad idea to sit on my bed.
"Why is that?" I squeaked out.
"You'll just be cold and turned on."
"Nuh uh."
He sat down beside me and kissed my neck.
"Yeah, you will. And your nipples will get harder." His hand brushed lightly against my breasts and I almost
"Maybe you need to narrow down your fishing waters," Rhys said from the stove.
"To what? A pond? That's equal to me sleeping with my brother. Lots of inbreeding in ponds."
"How about a lake?"
"Like a great lake? Or like a swimming hole kind of lake."
"Maybe a little smaller than a great lake. You deserve to be picky about what you want. Don't settle for someone just because they're marginally better than your ex. Know what you want and go find it."
"What I want is moot if he doesn't want me back," I murmured.
Silence fell upon us. He knew I was referring to him. Since the night of my party, over two months ago, my feelings grew exponentially. What was lust and infatuation blossomed into something deeper as our "friendship" also grew. I hid it well, though, and never asked for more than I got, and I also made sure not to sleep with him again. I wasn't exactly sure how I would feel afterward, but I was leaning toward pain.
Sometimes I thought he felt something for me, too. Sometimes after kissing me, he'd look at me with such a powerful expression, it made me want to cry. But then his face would cloud over and he would stop touching me for the rest of the day.
"Do you think Gary will come back?" He asked, shattering the silence several minutes later.
"Oh. I don't know. Probably not."
"He's probably pretty mad about his balls."
"Yeah," I frowned. "I'll just make sure the windows are locked."
"I'll stay tonight. I'll feel better knowing you're not at his mercy."
"That's very valiant of you, kind sir. Hey, my face is numb."
"You can take the ice off," he chuckled.
I threw the icepack in the sink with my wasted cigarette and joined Rhys at the stove. He was making some kind of sauce with white wine, and on the back burner, boneless chicken breast cooked in a big pan.
"What are you making me?"
"Chicken in a white wine sauce, and fresh asparagus."
"Yum."
"No more smoking, okay?" He looked at me seriously.
I nodded, mesmerized. It was that look in his eyes again. What the hell.
The moment passed and the conversation changed, but my heart never left my throat.
Chapter Fourteen
"It doesn't make sense," Rhys was saying early the next morning.
"It makes perfect sense."
"You have had my dick in your mouth, but you don't want to share your toothbrush?"
"Yeah, and you using my toothbrush would be equivalent to you putting your own dick in your mouth ," I said pointedly.
"If that's the case then I often have my own dick in my mouth, because I often have my tongue in your mouth."
"Oh," I said, realizing his words rang true. Silently, reluctantly, I handed over my personal toothbrush.
He took it with a triumphant grin. I raised an eyebrow and openly stared at his bare chest and the line of hair that led down to glory. He looked back at me, checking out my bare legs, as I was only wearing a t-shirt.
We slept in my bed after a night of kissing and sensual touching, but no sex. He must have understood my thoughts and feelings on it even though I never verbalized it, because when things started to get hot and heavy, he was the one that pulled away first.
"What's your obsession with using my toothbrush anyway?" I asked.
"It's in your mouth at least twice a day, every day," he said around my brush. "I really like your mouth."
I felt my face redden and my vagina twitch. I turned away and left him in the bathroom. A couple of minutes later, he emerged from the bathroom, looking sexy as hell in his lounge pants and no shirt. I couldn't peel my eyes away.
"See something you like?" He asked.
"I may have to take a cold shower," I said huskily.
"That won't help you, baby," he said, closing the space between us. Maybe it was a bad idea to sit on my bed.
"Why is that?" I squeaked out.
"You'll just be cold and turned on."
"Nuh uh."
He sat down beside me and kissed my neck.
"Yeah, you will. And your nipples will get harder." His hand brushed lightly against my breasts and I almost
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