"The Peridot City concert is going to throw my schedule into overdrive again," Rhys sighed, though a spark of excitement danced in his eyes.
"When is the big day?" Heather inquired, her brow furrowing slightly with concern.
"Mid-next month, give or take. The company's supposed to post the exact date online sometime this week."
"Right," Heather said, pausing thoughtfully as she drank the last of her coffee. "Just remember to look after yourself, okay? Don't let the craziness make you forget to eat or sleep."
"Wouldn't dream of it," Rhys assured her, his gaze softening as he looked at her. "And thanks, baby. Your understanding always means the world."
He hesitated, a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Tell you what. Once the concert madness dies down, let's have a proper celebration. A real date, just us. Undivided attention."
Heather's smile blossomed, chasing away the worry in her eyes. "Oh, Rhys, that sounds wonderful," she said, her voice infused with genuine warmth. "I'd love that."
He stepped behind her, his arms encircling her. He leaned in, his breath tickling her ear as he whispered, "Then how about we get a little pre-celebration exercise in upstairs?" He punctuated his words with a light, seductive bite on her earlobe.
A shiver ran down Heather's spine, and the mug in her hands wobbled precariously. Rhys's quick reflexes saved it from crashing onto the counter.
With a playful grin, he scooped her up in his arms.
"Up we go," he announced, ignoring her surprised yelp as he carried her away.
Heather's laughter bubbled up, a light and airy sound, as Rhys effortlessly carried her up the staircase. The gentle sway of his movements only amplified her amusement.
"My goodness," she teased, her fingers trailing lightly across the taut curve of his bicep. "Such impressively strong arms you have, mister." Her touch was feather-light, a playful exploration that hinted at the anticipation building between them.
A familiar smile tugged at the corner of Rhys's lips. A spark of playful mischief lit his eyes.
"You know what else is quite impressive?" he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated against her. One dark eyebrow arched suggestively as he looked down at her, the smirk on his lips deepening.
Heather tilted her head, her eyes sparkling with playful innocence. She shook her head slowly, a silent invitation for him to elaborate.
Rhys reached the top of the stairs, the polished wood creaking softly beneath his feet. He shifted Heather slightly in his arms, adjusting his hold so he could lean in and whisper directly into her ear, his breath warm against her skin.
A blush crept up Heather's neck and bloomed across her cheeks at his whispered words, her breath catching momentarily. Her eyes widened slightly, a mixture of surprise and burgeoning desire swirling within them.
"My, my," she purred, her voice a husky whisper that mirrored his own. A playful challenge danced in her gaze. "Well, I suppose we'll just have to conduct a thorough inspection to ascertain the accuracy of that claim, won't we?"
Rhys chuckled, a deep, satisfying sound. He carried her purposefully towards their bedroom, the door conveniently ajar. He nudged it further open with his shoulder, stepping inside without breaking his stride.
With a subtle shift of his foot, he nudged the door closed behind them, the soft click sealing them in their private world.
Rhys's knees dipped slightly as he gently lowered Heather onto the soft expanse of the bed. She settled onto her knees, her gaze never leaving his, and immediately reached out, her arms circling his shoulders.
Her fingers delved into the short, dark strands of his hair, a playful yet possessive gesture. She tugged lightly, drawing him closer, a silent invitation that made him willingly bow until their lips were a breath apart.
The anticipation hung thick in the air. Heather's tongue darted out, a fleeting, tantalizing lick across his lower lip, a bold request for entry. A low groan rumbled in Rhys's chest as he parted his lips, granting her access.
Their mouths met in a slow, deliberate slide, and then their tongues intertwined, engaging in a sensual dance of exploration and connection. The taste of her was familiar yet always intoxicating, a spark that ignited a fire within him.
As their kiss deepened, Heather's hands began a slow exploration of his body. Her palms glided over the smooth fabric of his shirt, tracing the contours of his shoulders and chest, feeling the subtle flex of his muscles beneath. Each touch was deliberate, a silent language of desire.
Her fingertips then found the top button of his shirt, and with a delicate flick, she undid it. The soft click echoed in the quiet room, a small sound that held a wealth of promise.
Her movements were languid and deliberate as she continued her task, her fingers nimble as they worked their way down the placket, unfastening each button in turn.
The anticipation built with every undone fastening, the slow reveal heightening the sensual tension between them. Finally, with the last button released, the front of his shirt hung open.
Heather paused, her eyes tracing the line of his chest, the subtle rise and fall of his breathing. Then, with a slow, deliberate pull, she eased the fabric off his shoulders, the soft material whispering against his skin before it finally slid down his arms and fell silently to the floor, leaving his bare chest exposed to her admiring gaze.
"I kinda like this." Rhys said, his eyes dark with lust, "You undressing me."
"Do you now?" Heather purred, her fingers splaying across his bare chest, feeling the warmth radiating from his skin and the steady beat of his heart beneath her palm.
Her thumbs traced the line of his pectoral muscles, a slow, deliberate caress that sent shivers down his spine. Her eyes, dark with a burgeoning desire that mirrored his own, locked with his.
"Well, then, perhaps I should take my time."
She leaned in, her breath ghosting over his lips, close enough for him to feel the warmth of her exhale. "Tell me what you like about it," she whispered, her voice a husky invitation.
Rhys's hands found her waist, his grip firm yet gentle, pulling her closer until there was barely a breath of space between them.
"The way your eyes look at me," he murmured, his voice thick with wanting. "Like I'm the only thing you see. And the way your touch… it's like a slow burn, Heather. Teasing, wanting."
He shifted his hips slightly, letting her feel the undeniable evidence of his arousal pressing against her.
Heather's smile widened, a slow, sensual curve of her lips. She leaned back slightly, keeping her hands firmly planted on his chest.
Her gaze dropped, tracing the line of his torso, lingering for a moment on the tautness of his stomach and the intriguing shadows of the V-line at his waistband before flicking back up to meet his eyes.
"Patience," she said softly, her fingers now tracing the line of his collarbone, "can be quite rewarding, wouldn't you agree?"
She dipped her head, pressing a soft kiss just below his ear, her breath warm and tantalizing against his skin. He shuddered slightly, his grip tightening on her waist.
With a deliberate slowness that was both an exquisite torment and a delicious promise, Heather finally lifted her gaze back to his. Her eyes were pools of dark desire, reflecting the intensity of his own.
"Now," she breathed, her voice barely a whisper, "where were we?" Her hands slid further down his chest, her fingertips brushing against the edge of his belt buckle, a silent question hanging in the air.
Rhys's breath hitched, his muscles tensing beneath her touch. He swallowed hard, his gaze locked on her descending fingers.
The air in the room crackled with anticipation, thick and heavy with unspoken desires. He could feel the heat rising within him, a primal urge that clamored for release.
"You know exactly where we were," he rasped, his voice rough with longing.
He lifted one hand, his fingers threading through the soft strands of her hair at the nape of her neck, tilting her head back slightly to give him better access. His eyes, dark and intense, held hers captive.
Heather's fingers danced along the edge of his belt, the metal cool against his heated skin. She paused there, her touch feather-light yet sending tremors through his body. Her gaze flickered down to his lips, then back up to his eyes, a silent conversation passing between them.
"And what if I want you to work for it a little?" she teased, her voice a low, seductive murmur.
Her fingers finally curled around the buckle, her movements slow and deliberate as she unfastened it. The small click of the metal seemed amplified in the quiet room.
Rhys groaned softly, his forehead creasing slightly. "You know I would do anything for you, Heather," he breathed, his thumb stroking her cheek. "Just… don't make me wait too long."
A playful smile touched the corners of her lips. She pushed gently against his chest, creating a small space between them, her eyes still locked on his.
Her hands then moved to the button of his trousers, her touch sending another wave of heat through him. She undid it slowly, her gaze never wavering from his.
As the button came undone, she dipped her head again, pressing a lingering kiss against the hollow of his throat, her lips soft and persuasive. He could feel her smile against his skin.
"Where's the fun in rushing?" she whispered against his neck, her breath warm and intoxicating.
Her hands then slid down the front of his trousers, the denim rough beneath her touch.
The anticipation stretched between them, a taut cord vibrating with desire.