Rise by Cassandra Robbins

 

 

 

 

GIA

Present – Twenty-five years old

London, England

“I have to use the bathroom.” I look around and see him grinning at me. His dark hair is wild, his tan, tattooed body almost glistening.

“Gia, come here.” He motions for me. I look around. We’re at the beach. He takes my hand as we walk to the ocean. It’s foamy, the water rolling up to my toes. I look at him and his eyes are like brown bourbon.

“Okay, go pee,” he says.

My eyes pop open. Holy shit, I really do need the bathroom. Thank God I didn’t listen to Rhys in my dream. I almost I giggle, which is absurd because I don’t giggle.

“Rhys,” I whisper, trying to escape his arms that seem to tighten as I move. Finally, I escape and make my way into the bathroom. This might be one of my favorite hotels. I stayed here a couple of years ago. Not in a suite like this, but everything in this hotel is gorgeous. I quickly use the facilities and wash my hands. Looking up at the mirror, I almost laugh. I look like Spot the dog. My mascara is a mess, and my makeup from earlier is probably all over the pillow.

I can’t remember sleeping that well in years. Turning the faucet, I attempt to fix my eyes. I’m probably delirious because I have zero to be happy about. I need to get out of here, run away as he likes to call it. But let’s be honest—he’s right. I do need to run… guard myself from the eventual pain that’s going to crash down on me.

I’m too old for this crap, and I promised myself I would not get into any more unhealthy relationships.

Rhys is not relationship material, but he is, without a doubt, the best fuck I’ve ever had. No matter what I say about him, Rhys Granger can fuck like no other. Maybe I should stick around a bit.

I run my hand down my neck, noticing the tiny bite marks. My core clenches. Christ, I’m like a junkie and he’s my crack. Would it be bad to stay in here all day and let him make me come numerous times?

“Probably” I say to myself. I know I need to leave. Slip out without a backward glance. I thought I could do this. Be professional and leave. But Rhys wants more, I can feel it, and as much as I am able to logically say my heart is detached, I’m not sure that’s the case.

With a sigh, I grab his toothbrush. The truth is, I can’t trust him and can’t forget that he let me go. Meaning, I guess I can’t forgive him. As I brush my teeth, my mind travels back to that day—that fucking awful day in the rain.

I broke that day. Although I recovered, here I am, brushing my teeth, trying to talk myself into leaving when my body wants me to stay.

That’s what all this is: sex. I want him, and you know what? That’s not such a bad thing. I put his toothbrush back and turn off the light, returning to the bed. I have no idea what time it is, but clearly I’m not leaving since his cock seems to be awake even if he’s still asleep.

For a second I falter, as if a neon sign saying Danger is going off in my head. He’s so beautiful. But it’s more than that. He’s talented, so fucking talented. He’s done what few can only dream of.

How does he handle it—the grueling schedules, and the mental and physical wear of a world tour? I’m exhausted and I’ve just started.

When I crawl back into bed, he instantly tugs me back into his arms. His warm, delicious smell of freshness and spice makes my heart race.

I’m not as tough as I think. All my talk about how this is just sex might be bullshit. Because all he has to do is touch me, and my heart breaks into little pieces, scattering all over.

What the fuck am I doing? I move to sit up, but he rolls over, pinning my hands above my head as if he knows…

Knows that I’m fighting myself. Knows I’m considering leaving before we both get hurt. I might not survive. Last time, I became a bitter bitch. This time, I can’t become a broken one.

“Brat,” he says, his voice raspy. His long, black eyelashes blink open, taking my breath away as I stare into his dark eyes. “What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?” His eyes search my face. He’s not haunted; he’s present, and that seems almost worse.

My hands tingle and my nipples harden. I’m close to bursting into tears. I can’t do this. He’s going to hurt me, and yet I can’t leave.

“I should go.” My voice cracks.

Again, his eyes peruse my face. “Not an option.”

“Rhys, I—” His mouth crashes down on mine, and he holds me possessively, as if he means it. I open, letting myself have this, because I can’t walk away.

Our tongues twist as his hands tighten on mine. He bites the bottom of my lip, then sucks on it. Lifting his head, he looks almost as tortured as I’m sure I do.

“You’re fucking mine. Do you hear me?” He lets go of one of my hands to grab the back of my leg. “I hope this cunt is ready because I can’t wait.” And in one amazingly forceful thrust, he slides deep inside me.

“Fuck. That’s it, baby. So wet.” He plunges into me hard. My eyes roll back in my head at how good it feels. My body betrays me with need, which isn’t fair. Then again, life isn’t fair.

In and out he thrusts, his piercing rubbing me as I start to climb. His mouth hovers over mine; his eyes bore into me. Our breathing is in sync, and for as rough as he fucks, there’s an intimacy we’ve never had before. My legs wrap around his ass. His hand travels up my torso, pulling on my pierced nipple, and that’s it. I’m going over in fast, pulsing waves of pleasure.

“Rhys,” I cry out. Blinking away the dark spots, I peer up at him. It’s that intense. When he pulls out, he grabs my hips, and his mouth goes straight to my clit. I haven’t even stopped coming. Pulsing, contracting, I let out a scream of pleasure. He lifts his head. His two fingers rub hard on my clit as I buck up, then fall back onto the bed.

“You’re mine. Say it.” He jerks his slick cock. “Say it.” He straddles me, his muscled legs strong. He jerks his cock hard. I lean up and pull on the piercing.

His hand goes to my throat. “Say it,” he grunts.

“I’ve always been yours,” I whisper.

His eyes shoot to mine and he comes undone. His beautiful stomach muscles tighten, and his seed spills onto my tits.

He looks down at me as we both try to catch our breaths. The warm liquid drips down my side, but I can’t move.

This is the moment. He’s either going to pull away or…

He takes my hand in his tan, rough fingers and places it on his chest. “This beats for you.”

Holy fuck. He’s not pulling away; he’s bringing us to another level.

“I can’t fight this hunger for you anymore, Gia. Don’t want to.”

My eyes fill with tears. For a second my heart fluttered. For a mere moment I had hope. But that’s the one thing I’ll never allow myself to indulge in.

Hope.

It’s a beautiful word, yet it causes unlimited damage. I lived with that word my whole life. Hope took me down once. I can’t allow it to again.

If he notices I haven’t responded, he’s hiding it well. He pulls me up, and his jizz drips down my stomach.

“You want to order dinner, or go out?” He brings me into the bathroom and starts the shower. I’m almost too stunned to respond at first. Does he actually think we are going to continue?

He steps in and reaches for me as I’m trying to make my brain work. I should go, but let’s be honest: I never should have come with him to begin with.

The hot water pelts my body. He grabs my chin almost roughly. “I’m done playing. I know how you feel. You don’t have to say it. I know it.”

Then he grabs the shower gel and starts to wash himself in angry, fast movements. By the time I get the shower gel in my hands, he’s moving me aside to rinse and opening the heavy glass doors.

“Rhys?” He stops but doesn’t turn. “I can’t commit to anything right now.” It sounds strained and pretty pathetic as I swallow back the words that I should say. I should tell him that he let me leave. That he hurt me and now I’m not the same. That because of him I make bad decisions, all so I never have to feel that burn in my heart again.

He grabs one of the white towels and wraps it around his waist. Looking at me through the mirror, he shakes his head as if he can’t understand me.

“Relax, Gia. I asked you to dinner.” My eyes hungrily watch him leave. As he runs his hands through his wet hair, his broad shoulders and back look truly spectacular.

I take my time in the shower. What the hell am I doing? Rhys is starting to seem like the normal one here. I wash my hair and grab the body wash for the third time before I feel stable enough not to humiliate myself. My emotions are all over the place. I’m terrified he’s gonna hurt me, and I can’t even enjoy the moment. The only time I’m completely free is when his pierced cock is fucking me.

This is absurd. I have to get out. Wait, did he say he’s taking me to dinner? I turn off the water and almost laugh because did Rhys Granger just ask me out on a date?

I step out, and the large bathroom looks like a sauna. That’s how long I stayed in the shower. Wrapping a towel around my wet hair, I grab some moisturizer and freeze.

I hear his guitar, but this is not a song that I know. He’s creating. Goose bumps cover my skin and it’s all I can do to breathe. After reaching for a robe, I slowly open the door.

I have known that Rhys is a musical genius from as early as I can remember. I used to sneak out of my bed as a kid and spy on him. He basically lived in our garage his senior year, sleeping on that old mattress and writing.

I’d go through the kitchen and sit on the steps that led down to the garage. It was then that I knew he was the perfect man. His words and voice moved me even as a child.

I lean against the doorframe and listen as he sings and plays. Fuck, I need a cigarette. This song is about me.

She’s a hunger that I’ve come to need. I’ve never been good with words, but that’s all right because my heart. My heart beats for hers.

My heart beats for hers.

And this is when I fall. I’m no better than his crazy fans. In fact, I might be worse because I’ve been loving him since I could feel what love is.

My heart beats for hers.

Somehow I’m in front of him when he looks up and flashes me the famous Granger smirk. He’s shirtless. His arms flex and his hand travels up and down the neck of the guitar.

After a dramatic strum, he says, “You’re my muse.”

I look at him, wanting this to never end. “That is… Rhys.”

He puts the guitar aside and pulls me in between his legs. As his hands untie my robe, he brings me close. My hands weave through his thick hair. And that’s it—the tears fall.

“Why didn’t you come for me?” There. I asked the question that’s been like an albatross around my neck.

He doesn’t let go. If anything, he pulls me tighter. His breath kisses my flat stomach.

“Why didn’t I come for you?” he repeats slowly. “You were eighteen. I guess I felt that you’d be better off without me. I had all that shit with Renee and my mom to deal with. And you didn’t trust me.”

I pull back so I can look at him, see him. “Why would you think anything changed?”

He leans back and cocks his head.

“Hasn’t it?”

I shake my head no. “I waited for you like a fucking…” I throw my hands up, searching for the word. “Like a stupid girl who sat and cried in the Disciples’ clubhouse because I couldn’t get up and I couldn’t bear to… go on.”

“You needed to go to school.” He pushes me back to stand, but fuck that. He doesn’t get to walk away. He thinks he can simply write a song and that makes eight years just vanish and everything’s all right?

I grab his arm and he turns, his brown eyes filled with a pain no one wants, one that’s hard to get rid of.

“Don’t you ever tell me I run. Look at you.” The tears that I’ve been holding back seem unstoppable, but I couldn’t care less.

“What the fuck do you want me to say, Gia?” he yells. “I fucking love you. Always have. But that day, I begged you to trust me. I told you that kid wasn’t mine.”

“You never came for me. You let me go,” I yell back. “And you’re right. I was only eighteen. I still believed in love and soulmates and all that crap. But beyond that, I believed in you.”

He looks down at my hand that won’t let go of him. If I do, that will be it. I’ll leave this room and won’t come back.

“That was mistake number one. You, out of everyone, know I always make all the girls cry.” My hand drops as his words float around the room.

“You gonna run, Gia?” His voice is like a caress, but I know better. We’re just getting warmed up, and this hasn’t even started to get ugly. I turn and look around for my clothes.

“Yeah, I’m going to save us both and get out now.” I turn but he grabs me, bringing me to his chest.

“Careful, Gia.” He shakes me. “Do you really think that’s how this works?” His hand tightens on my arm. “Do you?”

“I don’t know how any of this works. All I know is that—”

“Exactly. We can’t know our future. We only have now. This second. Goddammit, Gia, I choose this moment to be with you.”

“You scare me.”

“That’s probably the most honest thing you’ve said to me.” He holds me close, the robe falling to the floor. “Tell me what you want, baby.”

My head is spinning as I try to breathe. My eyes feel like someone tossed sand in them and my skin is on fire. When my head falls back, his mouth hovers at my lips.

“I want…” It sounds like a growl, but I’ve lost all sense of anything as he kisses my eyes and licks my tears.

“Talk to me,” he coaxes.

“I want… you,” I whisper as hot tears spill down my face.

“You got me.” Our eyes lock, and in this moment I believe him.

I believe him.

He cups my face, his thumb wiping away my tears as his mouth dips to mine. His kiss holds everything I could ever want.

“My heart beats for you,” he whispers, lifting me up. I wrap my legs around his waist. For now, this seems like it’s enough. I close my eyes. I’ll let him make me forget. As soon as his body connects with mine, he’ll take away my pain, my doubts. So I close my eyes and let his mouth take away the pain.