APEX

Ch. 24: Fantasy of the Brothers

"I'm telling you, she killed Zara," he'd say again.

"She couldn't have," Rhys said as he lifted his foot off his brother and stepped away from him, towards me.

"How can you know that?" Aamon asked.

"Because, dipshit..." He'd glanced over at me again, waiting for me to nod my consent. In this fantasy, there was no fear of Rhys and I being found out. Or maybe, the fear of it was part of the excitement. "She was with me. All. Night. Long."

"Emphasis on long," I'd say with a wink.

Rhys broad shoulders squared; his ego flattered. "If you think Calla would have any interest in you after she'd had her muffin buttered by me, you're more delusional than I thought."

Aamon took Rhys's physical retreat as a sign that he was being allowed to stand up again. Back on his legs, he somehow managed to look more dejected than when Rhys had had him pinned to the ground. He brushed dirt and plant debris from his clothing. "You're lying. You don't want her. You don't even like her! You just don't want me to have her. It's just like Meribeth Jenkins all over again."

"Who's Meribeth?" I asked, even though, since this was my fantasy, I could make her whomever I wanted her to be.

"A chick I was into in high school. Rhys asked her to prom not because he liked her, but because I did. It was just a stunt to piss me off. And he knew there was nothing I could do about it."

Rhys laughed again. "No, I asked her to prom because you kept bothering her, asking her out even though you knew she was into girls. Neither of us were dating anyone, so we went as friends. Had a blast too."

This was the sort of noble gesture I could get behind. No wonder I'd seen fit to add it to my fantasy.

"Whatever." Aamon spit at the ground. "I think you're full of it, Rhys. But for now, I won't tell anyone about my theory."

"Don't frame it as an act of mercy, Aamon. You won't tell anyone because it's a lie that no one will believe. But if you do decide to spread false accusations about my girl, I'll do the same thing to you that I did to the last shifter who wronged her."

Aamon faded into the night at that point, and I was left on the threshold of my cabin, basking in the glow of Rhys's final warning to his brother.

I wasn't alone in my quest to kick the ass of the men who overstepped. I liked being able to defend myself, but having an ally who also seemed willing to step up to the plate wasn't such a bad thing, especially when that ally was an incredibly sexy Alpha shifter who I'd just spent a long, long night with.

I had little time to think about just how much Rhys's dominating presence turned me on then I found myself lifted off my threshold. Rhys carried me to the bed and laid me down on it. "I'll tell everyone about us tonight."

I ran my hands up and down his back. "Won't we get in trouble?"

His reply was delayed as he nibbled on my earlobe and then nuzzled my neck. "I'm the Alpha. If I want you to be mine, who can tell me otherwise?"

Logic tried to force its way in. My mind reeled. His father could say otherwise. My mother, the tribunal. The public, even, if they didn't like the turmoil our mating might cause within the packs, a turmoil that might bleed over into the human population.

I shut down the logical side of me as the imagined sensations from Rhys's pretend investigation of my fantasy body made my real body heat up. I unbuttoned my pants and slid my hand inside, separating the folds of tender flesh until I found the spot that made me wet. I rubbed a finger against it and moaned.

My fantasy continued, with Rhys removing my clothes, piece by piece until I lay naked underneath him.

"I knew I wouldn't be able to resist fucking you again," he said as he took off his shirt, and then slid out of his pants. His engorged member seemed as eager as I was.

"Then don't," I told him.

This time, and perhaps because I was directing this scene, he didn't make me wait. The shock of his cock thrusting into me made me cry out, a guttural, primal moan that seemed to egg him on. He thrust again, deeper, and harder.

Outside of the fantasy, my fingers worked their magic. As I grew more aroused, I couldn't help but wish this wasn't a fantasy, that Rhys would come to me, that we could both relive the intense pleasure we'd found in each other during the forgotten hours.

I wanted him, and as much as this fantasy was giving me, it could never compare to the man himself.

Damn, I needed Rhys so badly, I could smell him, his earthy scent sending me to a new level of pleasure.

As my heart raced, a knock on the door made me jump.

No. This couldn't be. I'd been so close to climaxing. My pussy still tingling wildly, unable to understand why I wasn't still coaxing her towards orgasm, I hopped off the bed, buttoned my pants, smoothed my hair down with my hand, and steeled myself for the bushtit that was about to go down.

I pulled open the door. "What the hell, Aamon!" I said before I realized it wasn't him. Rhys stared at me with an expression somewhere between anger and anguish.

"You were expecting my brother?" Wide eyed, he sniffed the room, his expression shifting from surprise to condemnation. "Or should I say, you were expecting him again. What was he doing here, Calla?" He sniffed the air again. His eyes softened as lust replaced anger. "And what were you just doing in that bed?"

Damn. Was my fantasy about to become reality?