Her fantasy men, p.2
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       Her Fantasy Men, p.2

           Shayla Black
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  hard all over again just thinking about her.

  Too bad he wasn’t the only one hard for Kelsey. Rhys grimaced. Tucker’s feelings for her were deep and true and abiding, and Jeremy, a man everyone knew played for keeps, intended to make her his submissive. Still, Rhys refused to be strong-armed out of Kelsey’s life by loyalty or authority. He burned for her every bit as much as the others.

  Soon, he would make her see that. Somehow.

  Jeremy might have provided a plan so they could learn Kelsey’s feelings. Tucker might have provided the key so they could research what might be in her heart. But Rhys intended to take full advantage of the opportunity to make her his own.

  He’d sneaked away during the party earlier and done something designed to ensure that Kelsey would call Rhys tonight after her pretend assignment from her boss, then invite him inside. All he had to do was wait.

  Pacing his bedroom, he stared out the window again—straight into Kelsey’s. His beautiful neighbor never closed her blinds, thank God.

  Finally, she entered the room and stripped off her cover-up. The bikini top came next, then the bottoms—and she stood blessedly bare. And gorgeous.

  Rhys wished like hell that walls, windows, and fences didn’t separate them. He’d kill to see that beautiful skin up close. Touch it.

  But to achieve his personal mission, he had to serve the collective one first. Quickly, he sent a text to Jeremy:

  Everyone is finally gone. Call her now.

  Less than thirty seconds later, Kelsey jumped, threw the cover-up over her head, and darted back down the hall.

  A minute later, Rhys was quiet as he opened her front door with Tucker’s key and slipped inside, locking it behind him. Yeah, he should probably wait to see if Jeremy could get her out of the house on this “errand,” but impatience chafed. Besides, to leave, Kelsey would have to change clothes . . . which meant she would get naked first. He couldn’t bypass the opportunity to see her up close and personal.

  Once inside, Rhys heard Kelsey on the phone, pacing the kitchen. The deferential tones she used with Jeremy set his teeth on edge.

  “I’ve had too much to drink to drive to the office tonight, sir, but I promise I’ll be in early and finish proofing that brief for you.”

  A moment later, she added, “I had two more margaritas after you left.” Then, “I didn’t realize you’d need my help tonight.” She sighed. “I realize that’s not good for me. I’m sorry, sir.”

  Kelsey fidgeted. “No, I don’t have lunch plans.” Another pause. “My job is to help you however I can, sir. I’ll plan on attending the meeting with you. Do you need me to make lunch reservations?”

  Rhys grimaced at Kelsey’s tone. She sounded breathless, almost aroused. Her boss liked to tie women up and order them around. On one hand, it bothered him. His independent Kelsey into that? Really? On the other hand, the thought of seeing Kelsey bound and ready to take whatever he wanted to give her excited the hell out of him. He liked the vision better without Jeremy in it.

  Sighing, Rhys shoved the thought aside and crept through the foyer, past the living room, circling the back of the dining room, then peeking his head around the corner into the kitchen and den. He was in luck; Kelsey was looking out the French doors into her shadowed backyard, submissively responding to yet another of Jeremy Beck’s commands.


  He’d worry about her boss later. After all, she might be intrigued by Jeremy, but she hadn’t let him touch her. Maybe she didn’t have any real feelings for the guy and simply reacted instinctively to the command in a boss’s voice. He hoped like hell that deference didn’t mean anything.

  Rhys entered her darkened hallway, then crept to her guest room/home office and shut the door behind him.

  Her computer hummed quietly. A quick search of her files revealed nothing more than a few tax records, her playlists, family photos, and mostly work-related e-mails. She was still logged into her Facebook account, but her wall held greetings from a handful of high school friends wishing her a happy Labor Day. Nothing from a lover.

  Next, Rhys picked up her cell phone, which sat beside her laptop. He scanned her recent incoming and outgoing calls. Her mother, her aunt, her cousin, Jeremy, Tucker, and himself, period. If she had a lover, she wasn’t communicating with him, and that wasn’t Kelsey’s style.

  Shit. Now what? Maybe she kept a journal. He looked around the little room, rummaged through her desk drawers. Other than bills and house papers, they were empty. Maybe the diary was in her bedroom . . .

  Tiptoeing across the hall, Rhys could hear Kelsey murmuring something in more of those worshipful tones that made him grit his teeth. Lucky bastard, Jeremy.

  With a shake of his head, Rhys slipped into Kelsey’s private domain and spied her little red bikini on the pale carpet. His cock hardened in a painful rush. She’d looked fabulous in it, laughing, playing hostess, so natural and unaware of how gorgeous she looked with dancing dark eyes and her riot of brownish-red curls. He knew she looked even better without the bikini.

  “No, sir. Really, I’m tipsy. And tired. I promise I’ll be in early.”

  Damn it, Jeremy hadn’t been able to get her out of the house. So now his time was really limited. Rhys forced himself to focus.

  He looked across her dresser, scattered with car keys, jewelry, and other knickknacks. Nothing that stood out. Her rumpled bed was unmade, her tiny nightstand covered by a little lamp, a candle, and what looked like a fairly racy romance. Did that cover have a woman with more than one guy on the front?

  As he reached for it, he heard Kelsey say, “Yes, I know you’ll reprimand me, sir. Whatever you feel is necessary, I understand.” She paused. “Good night.”

  Then she slammed the phone in its cradle and began stomping down the hall, her footsteps echoing across the hardwood floors.

  Hide! He hustled into the shadowed confines of her walk-in closet and scrambled behind her dresses along the back wall, praying she wouldn’t find him before he could get out. Otherwise, he’d have to have a good explanation for being here. Which he didn’t. And there would be hell to pay.

  Kelsey entered her bedroom with a shaky sigh and darted straight for her nightstand. Through the crack in the door, he could see her wrench open a drawer. She withdrew a pair of rumpled paper bags and tore into them. As she extracted the items, Rhys clenched his fists to hold in his groan.

  Her battery-operated rabbit and a slender, curved vibrator.

  She was going to masturbate. Fuck!

  Plopping her items on the bed, Kelsey tore off her cover-up, put her iPod buds in her ears, switched the MP3 player on, then lay down. Her skin looked so flawless and fair against the dark sheets. Her breathing picked up, lifting her chest with each inhalation, her hard nipples stabbing the air. Rhys got hard all over again. Yes, he loved watching her through her window, but to be mere feet away from her? Surely, he’d spontaneously combust.

  Before moving next door to Kelsey, he’d preferred tall, skinny girls with straight hair and sun-kissed skin. One look at Kelsey and he’d barely looked at another woman. When he’d met her, heard her laugh, experienced her warmth, he’d been a goner.

  She closed her eyes, took a deep breath. Time to call the others for a backup plan. It went against his grain to let the others in on her private moments, many of which he’d watched from his bedroom window, dick in hand . . . but he might not get out of Kelsey’s house undetected without their help. Damn it.

  He hit Tucker’s speed dial. Not a second later, her friend picked up. “What did you find?”

  “Hang on a second,” he whispered, not knowing how loud her iPod might be.

  Then he flipped over and dialed Jeremy, who answered immediately. “Well?”

  Rhys conferenced the men in together. “I didn’t find anything helpful, and now, she’s masturbating. I’m hiding in her closet, trying to figure out how in the hell I’m going to get out without getting caught. Ideas?”

  “Masturbating?” Tuc
ker choked.

  “Yeah. She’s naked on the bed with her sex toys. And she looks flaming hot.”

  “Goddammit,” Jeremy growled. “Don’t look at her.”

  “Bite me,” Rhys tossed back. “She’s ten feet in front of me. Of course I’m going to look.”

  “Would she hear the phone ring?” Kelsey’s boss snapped. “If I can get your eyes off her by calling again—”

  “She wouldn’t hear it. She’s listening to her iPod. But I can’t walk past her; she might see me.”

  Moonlight and the nearby streetlamp filtered light through the slats in the blinds. Rhys watched Kelsey preparing to get down to business. He had to restrain a groan at the sight.

  “Oh, hell! She’s cupping her breasts.” Her voluptuous, full, mouthwatering breasts. “And she’s pinching her nipples. Damn . . .”

  Jeremy groused out a curse. “If you’re going to watch this, you’re going to share details. Every one of them.”

  The tone set Rhys on edge. “Fuck off.”

  “I helped you get into her house with a phone call and a plan,” Jeremy argued. “Tucker lent you his key. If such a gorgeous sight is going to fall into your lap, you’re going to share with us. Or we won’t help you with an exit strategy.”

  As if he hadn’t proven it time and again, Jeremy displayed once more why he was one of the most sought-after attorneys in Texas. The man could flat argue with anyone and win.

  “Fine.” Rhys ground out between clenched teeth. “She’s scraping her nipples with her fingernails.”

  Rhys could feel their excitement over the phone. He felt the same keen sense of arousal . . . which only multiplied when Kelsey slid a hand across the flat of her abdomen, caressing down to the inside of her thigh. Her legs parted. He swallowed.

  “Touch me ...” she murmured. “Yes.”

  She dipped her fingers inside her pussy, and Rhys nearly lost his mind.

  Tucker choked. “D-did she just beg someone to touch her?”

  Fucking hell . . . “Yeah.”

  “Any idea who she wants doing the touching?”

  “Where is she imagining someone touching her?” Jeremy barked.

  Before he could answer, Kelsey lifted her fingers from between her legs, and Rhys got a good glimpse. “Fuck, she’s wet.”

  “You see her pussy?” Jeremy demanded.

  “That’s a terrible word,” Tucker chastised.

  Jeremy scoffed. “You like cunt better?”

  Rhys ignored them. “It’s her fingers. They’re wet.”

  Tucker swallowed. “She really touched herself?”

  “Dude, she does it all the time.” Rhys rolled his eyes.

  Her friend let out a shaky breath. “I think I’m going to explode.”

  Easy to relate to that feeling, especially when Kelsey began a slow, rhythmic rubbing of her clit.

  “Please . . . ” She groaned. “Like that. Oh, yes . . .” Her hips lifted. “I want it . . .”

  “Damn it,” Jeremy snarled. “I’ll give it to her. Relentlessly. Until she begs me to stop. When she does, I’ll just give her more.”

  Not if Rhys had anything to say about it. That would be his privilege.

  “But I can’t,” she whimpered. “Too much . . .”

  Damn it, who did she picture sharing her pleasure with? What the hell did her imaginary lover do? Say?

  A moment later, she grabbed the slender wand, flipped it on, and eased it inside her. Her back bowed off the bed as it disappeared inside her body.

  “Oh my God ...” she cried.

  “What?” Tucker and Jeremy both snapped.

  “She’s using her vibrator.”

  Kelsey punctuated Rhys’s announcement with a cry of pleasure. It filled the room, heating his blood. On the phone, Tucker groaned. Jeremy’s silence had its own sound of careful restraint. He hoped neither of them had taken their cocks in hand. The last thing he wanted was to hear some other guy get off to Kelsey’s cries of pleasure.

  Though he had to admit, he was tempted to stroke himself in time to her moans.

  With one hand, she thrust the slim wand in and out of her hungry body, the sounds of her juicy flesh pushing the edge of his restraint. Finally having a soundtrack to this visual was killing him.

  With the other hand, she groped for her rabbit. She found the base first, flipped it on, then clutched the buzzing purple toy and dragged it between her legs, settling it right over her clit.

  “Yes! God, yes! I need it! That’s so good . . .”

  “I can’t listen to this and do nothing. I’m coming over there,” Jeremy growled.

  Everything inside Rhys protested. “Stay where you are, damn it. You’re going to help me get out of here when she’s done, but this isn’t a party.”

  She gasped. “Please. Oh God . . .”

  “I can’t take it,” Tucker muttered. “What is she doing?”

  Flushing. Arching her back. Biting her lip. Clutching her toys. Moaning. And . . .


  “I love you . . . you . . . you ...” Kelsey panted.

  Then she rent the air with a sharp, high-pitched cry that went on, became a low growl of satisfaction that nearly had Rhys climaxing in his jeans.

  “I’m going to paddle that woman’s ass for this torture as soon as I get my hands on her,” Jeremy promised.

  “You can’t hit a woman!” Tucker protested.

  Before Rhys could say that he wouldn’t mind seeing Kelsey with a pink bottom, her boss answered. “How likely are you to forget the sound of her orgasm? Ever? How many times will you play it in your head the next few days? Weeks? Months? How many times will you masturbate to it and wish to God you were hearing it in person because you’d given her that much pleasure? How many times after your self-induced orgasm will you be bitterly disappointed that you were only torturing yourself with the sound because you don’t know who the fuck she’s fantasizing about when she brings herself to climax?”

  No one said anything for a long minute. Rhys could hear Kelsey panting as she slowly resumed normal breathing. On the phone, her other two admirers each struggled for self-control.

  “You’re right,” Tucker finally said. “I’ll never forget that sound. And since Rhys didn’t find anything in his search, we still don’t know who she wants.”

  “Or who she loves,” Jeremy added. “Are you sure that neither of you knows about another man in her life?”

  “We’re the only men who ever visit her house,” Rhys said. “I have nosy Mrs. MacDermott across the street watch her when I’m at the station, and she always clucks that even her fourteen-year-old granddaughter has more boyfriends than Kelsey.”

  “She sees no one at work. I intentionally keep her far too busy for an office romance.”

  “I talk to her folks every other week or so,” Tucker said. “They don’t mention a boyfriend. Believe me, I ask. And as far as I know, except her dentist appointment last week and grocery shopping, she hasn’t been anywhere.”

  “Maybe her lover is purely imaginary.” Rhys winced as he said it. That would pretty much kill their collective hope.

  “Or it’s one of us, and she just can’t say it,” Tucker suggested. “I’m wondering . . . Kels and I have been friends for so long, maybe she thinks bringing up sex would be awkward. Or how does a woman tell her boss that she’s fallen for him? Or a neighbor she’s never even dated? For all that Kelsey is independent, I don’t think she’s brave with her feelings.”

  “Another something we have to thank that prick Alex for,” Jeremy muttered.

  “Totally,” Tucker agreed. “So maybe . . . we just have to keep
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