Beneath These Lies (Beneath, #5)(42)

Rix threw his head back and laughed. “Didn’t even offer to buy me dinner first.”

“I’d offer to make you dinner, but you might not survive. I’m a terrible cook.”

Rix reached for the button on his jeans and unhooked it before shoving them down.

Three.

That was how many times I’d officially seen him naked, and every single one of them was going to be burned into my brain for the rest of my life. One man shouldn’t be allowed to have such a beautiful body. I’d also never been so thankful to have a paintbrush in my hand.

“You can sit back down, if you want.” I nodded to the chaise behind him.

“How do you want me?” he asked, the double entendre clear in his tone.

“Sit, lay back. Throw your arm over the back of the chaise. Just . . . get comfortable.”

Rix complied silently.

“You can keep talking.”

“You want me to keep spilling secrets?”

I shrugged. “I want you to keep my mind off the fact that I’m staring at you naked, and the silence is making it awkward.”

“Long as you see something you like, we’re good.”

“I think it’s pretty clear I like what I see.”

“Seems like you should be naked too,” Rix said, a mischievous smile on his face. “Only fair.”

I’d thrown on a pair of leggings and an old, paint-covered tank top. Without a bra, there was no way he could miss the press of my hard nipples against the thin cotton.

“I think you’re getting mixed up about how this works.” Heat curled between my legs, and I felt myself grow wet.

“Nah, I’m just saying that if you’re going to study every detail of me, I should have the same opportunity. Watching you sleep wasn’t quite the same.”

I paused. “You watched me sleep?”

Another shrug from Rix. “Maybe.” He shifted on the chaise. “I struck a deal for your girl. Should have her back to you before the end of the week.”

“Really?” Hope filled me, because that was the best news I’d gotten in a long, long time. “You could’ve maybe led with that, you know.”

“I was gonna tell you before I left either way.”

I kept painting, and we lapsed into silence. I concentrated on the canvas, and when my gaze flicked back to him, I froze. His hand was wrapped around his cock and he was stroking it, his eyes burning into me.

My thighs squeezed together. “Wha—what are you doing?”

“Think that’s obvious.”

“You . . . have to stop.” I swallowed, unable to tear my eyes away from the sight.

He didn’t. Stroke after stroke, I stared as he grew even bigger and harder. I wanted him in my mouth. Right now.

Rix wanted the same thing. “Put your brush down, duchess. I want you on your knees.”

Unmoving, I continued to stare.

“Come here.”

I lowered my brush to the tray beside me and wiped my hands on a rag. Standing slowly, I crossed toward him. He nodded to his hand, which was still wrapped around his cock.

I pressed a knee to the chaise, and then the other, finding space between his spread legs. Licking my lips, I lowered my head.

At the sound of the doorbell ringing, we both froze.

“No f*cking way. Do not move.”

My phone buzzed on the side table with a text, and I bit my lip. “What if—”

Rix growled. “Go. I’ll keep myself entertained.”

“It’ll just take me a second. Stay here.”

“I don’t take orders, duchess.”

“I know, but it could be my parents. Or one of my neighbors.” I headed for the door.

“How is someone getting to your door anyway? You’ve got a gated yard.”

“I know, but the pedestrian gate isn’t locked. It broke a couple weeks ago, and I haven’t gotten it fixed.”

“Jesus, here I’ve been jumping the fence, and all along you’ve got a broken latch? You need to get that shit fixed ASAP.”

“How about I worry about that later,” I said, my gaze once again dropping to his cock, which had softened only slightly, before I stepped back and headed out of the studio.

When I reached the front door, I peeked out the sidelight and recognized my visitor immediately.

Rhett. What was he doing here? And what would Rix do when he realized who it was?

I felt like I was sitting on top of a powder keg, box of matches in hand.

Rhett’s eyebrows shot up when I opened the door. I shouldn’t have been in such a rush to answer it. No makeup, paint on my hands and arms, and from the way his gaze rested on my face, I’d probably smeared some on there too.

I pushed back my hair, wondering if I looked like I’d been doing what I’d just been doing. My cheeks were hot, and I quickly crossed my arms over my still hard nipples.

“Now, what exactly were you doing?”

“Uh . . . painting?” I bit my lip and lifted a hand to my face to cover what I was sure were even redder cheeks than I’d started with. That’s when his gaze dropped to my nipples.

Something lit in his green eyes. “Fuck, I want you.”

He didn’t even give me time to react before he wrapped a hand around my waist and yanked me against his body, his lips finding mine and his tongue sliding inside.