Down to My Soul (Soul Series Book 2)(30)

I gesture for her to come in, and she walks over to stand right in front of me.

“You got a ride home?” I lean against the piano and push the hair over her shoulder, my hand dropping to palm her waist. She’ll have to pull away if she’s concerned about someone seeing us because I can’t not touch her.

“Yeah.” She looks up at me, the same restrained energy in her eyes that churns inside of me. “I’ve got San’s truck.”

Gus and Monty come through to wave a final goodnight, their speculative eyes bouncing between Kai and me. After what they’ve probably read about us being apart, they must be as confused as I am half the time. With them leaving and Amber long gone, it’s just Kai and me in the studio. When she leaves it’ll be just me like it’s been so many nights since she left.

“I should go,” she whispers, stepping back.

“You were amazing.” I tighten my hand at her waist, hoping I can keep her for a few more minutes.

“Thank you.” She smiles. “I mean that. Thank you for bringing something so much better out of me than I thought I had.”

She opens her mouth like there’s more she would say, but she bites her lip and drops her gaze to the floor. I lift her chin with one finger until I have her eyes again.

“What is it, Pep?”

A breath stutters over her lips and emotion deepens the rich brown of her eyes to sable.

“Did you feel it?” The heat in her eyes mesmerizes me. “When I sang for you? Did you feel it?”

I don’t bother answering her question. I just haul her into me, hands cupping her ass and tongue in her mouth before she can waste time with more words. Who needs words when we have this? This living, panting thing that ignites every second we’re together. Lust and love rub against each other vigorously like two sticks making sparks fly, the first sign of fire. I feather kisses down her soft cheeks until I reach her lips again. She opens for me, warm and eager. My hands glide past her waist and up her body until I cup either side of her face, holding her still so I can plunder that sweetness over and over until I’m satisfied. Only there’s no satisfaction, just more hunger. It claws out of my belly and drags her closer.

“Rhyson, oh God,” she husks against my lips. “I-I . . . need . . .”

Her arms wrap around my neck, pressing our bodies so close not even a breath would dare intrude. But her words intrude. What she said yesterday in the barn about going slow and getting it right, it intrudes as much as I don’t want it to.

I pull back, hands at her hips, to look down at her.

“Pep, you know where this goes.” I shake my head. “If we don’t stop, I won’t stop. You know that, right?”

The hunger in her eyes answers me.

“Yeah.” She blinks rapidly, her hand tightening behind my neck, fingers plowing into my hair.

“You know I want this.” I feel the window closing, that window where I give her a choice in this, where I let her go home. “But you said slow, baby. I just . . . I don’t want you to regret this, or see it as a setback for us. It wouldn’t be to me.”

“I just . . .” Her eyes pick up where her words leave off, telling me that I’m not the only one lonely or needy tonight after so long apart. “What we felt tonight in the studio, I need that.”

“What are you saying?” I know what she’s saying, but she’s gonna have to say it. And once she does, that’s it. The timetable, the slow pace—all of it goes poof, and good riddance.

“I’m saying you can have me, we can have each other tonight.” She seals her fate by tipping up on her toes to lay a soft kiss on my lips.

That may be the last soft thing between us for a while because what burns in me isn’t soft or slow or gentle. I’m done questioning this. I’m not asking for permission or waiting another minute. Her singing my lyrics tonight, holding my words so close they became a part of her—I’m still hard from that. There’s only one way to satisfy this hunger.

I spin her around and bend her over the side of the piano, with frantic hands peeling her leggings and panties down over her hips. I can’t even wait for her to get them off, leaving them bundled around her ankles. I fumble with my zipper, want making my hands tremble.

“Hurry, Rhys.” Her voice shakes with need. “Please hurry.”

I drop my pants, align our bodies and plunge into her tightness as deeply as her body will take me. I slide my hand up her back, pushing her neck, her cheek into the piano. I’m as gentle as I can be while I grind into the curve of her ass.

“You don’t ever keep this from me again.” I thrust into her roughly, watching the blush wash over the downy skin of her neck and cheeks. “I can’t . . . I can’t be without you, Kai.”

“I know.” Her voice shakes.

I can’t speak, the force of the pleasure too intense. I want to savor being with her, inside of her again, but it’s been too long. I thought our first time together again would be long, leisurely love in my bed, or by my pool, naked with the cameras off. Instead we steal this rough f*ck in the back of my studio. One hand grips her hip and the other presses into the fragile line of her spine. Dammit, I don’t want to hurt her, but I’m pounding into her, my hips out of control, shaking the piano, the superb acoustics of the studio echoing back my grunts and groans. But she takes it, wants more.