The Right Swipe (Modern Love, #1)(97)

He shrugged, embarrassed. “Well, right now it means we can’t have sex.”

“Yeah . . .” She bit her lip. “I wish I could say condoms don’t matter, but—”

“No, they matter.” Rhi’s trust issues wouldn’t be solved in a day, and neither would his. They needed time and words before they got to a point where condoms wouldn’t be an issue. And that issue couldn’t be decided in the heat of the moment.

He ran his fingers back over her vulva. She was so sweet and wet. Her lashes fluttered as he played with her. “Luckily, there’s about eight hundred things we can do with each other that don’t require a condom.” He slipped his fingers deeper, thrusting them back and forth. She moaned, and he added his thumb on her clit, rubbing the little bundle of flesh.

Rhi ran her hand up his thigh and he moved closer, until her palm grasped his cock. He closed his eyes, luxuriating in each grasping pull, and the speed of her motions dictated his own.

They played together like that for a long time, taking slow pleasure in each other’s hands and bodies, but finally the need built up. He bent his head and licked her clit while he fucked her with his fingers. Her thighs tightened around his arm as she came. He gave his own body free rein and thrust against her palm, spilling on her belly.

With the last ounce of strength in his body, he leaned over the bed, grabbed his shirt, and used it to clean off her stomach. People who made penetrative intercourse the whole and sole point of sex really missed so much. This was as intimate and pleasurable as being inside her.

Samson tossed the shirt toward the bathroom. She curled into his side and he wrapped his arms around her.

“Has Annabelle offered the company to anyone else?”

Of course Rhiannon orgasmed and moved straight to business. He shook his head, a spurt of humor making him grin. “No. Are you thinking of renewing your bid?”

“Don’t tell Annabelle yet, I have to talk to Katrina. But, yes, I think I’m going to counter her counter with an investment offer. It seems like she’s in no rush to sell the company. She could cut me in for a slice. I can help her with her senior management issues. It could work, at a partnership level.”

He laced his fingers through hers and brought their hands to his mouth to kiss. “I like the idea of a partnership.”

“Yeah?” Rhiannon rolled onto her side to face him.

“Yeah.”

“I guess now’s the time we talk?” She gestured between them. “About us?”

“I think so.” He stacked his hands under his head. “I’m serious.”

“Serious about . . . me being naked and in your bed?” she asked lightly.

“No. Well, yes. But not exactly. I’m serious about you, woman. I’m looking for something serious with you. I’m not content with this just being sex for a night or a week or even a month. I want more. I want a relationship. With you,” he stressed, in case she didn’t quite understand him.

She wrinkled her nose. “What about your marketing campaign? Hard to be serious when you’re seeing a bunch of other women.”

He shook his head. “I’m not seeing anyone else. I filmed one last date for Matchmaker.”

“I saw it.” Her eye twitched. “She seemed nice.”

“She was lovely, but she wasn’t you. If we continue any campaign, it’ll be the one with you and me. We still have one meetup left in the contract you made me sign, don’t forget.”

“William might be annoyed by that.”

The relish in her statement told him she hoped he was. Samson couldn’t blame her—he didn’t like William much either. “William’s out.”

Rhi’s eyes widened. “What?”

“You’ve missed a lot.” He decided her breasts looked cold and cupped one. Her eyes fell to half-mast, but her expression remained expectant. “William and Aunt Belle decided their management styles are too dissimilar, Aunt Belle’s searching for a replacement, she knew from the start that I was into you and engineered us meeting, my friend Dean told me to be more like Beyoncé, and also I agreed to hear out my former nemesis about the job at that nonprofit.” He paused for a breath. “I think that’s most everything you missed.”

“Whoa. That’s a lot.” She glanced around. “I should put my shirt on.”

“It really wasn’t that much,” he insisted and strummed her nipple. “No need for shirts.”

“Sounds like a lot. What made you flip on the job?”

He told her about Al’s interview, and her face softened. “I guess that’s what it’s all about. Making all this”—she gestured to the world at large—“better for the youths.”

“That’s kind of a nice way of thinking about it.” He tipped his head at her. “Now you. What have you been up to since we last saw each other?”

“Well, I went on national television, told the world Peter harassed me, turned my phone off for twenty-four hours, had a real heart-to-heart with my brother about my trust issues, potentially acquired another roommate, and Peter stepped down as CEO.”

He stared at her. “You turned your phone off for twenty-four hours?”

“Literally the longest I have ever turned my phone off in the history of having a phone.” She blinked rapidly. “I was scared to turn it on. But when I did . . . there were so many nice messages, Samson. From so many people.”