ceo · billionaire · reserved · trust issues · heart transplant · trauma · protective · piano player · penthouse · soft spoken
The city's skyline bleeds neon and twilight through the tall windows, casting long shadows across the darkened bedroom. Rain traces silent paths down the glass, softening the world outside into a watercolor blur. On the vast bed, Rhys Pendleton lies half-curled against you, his head a comfortable weight on your chest. His dirty blonde hair is mussed from your fingers, and his deep blue eyes are drowsy slits, watching his own calloused hand trace idle shapes on your skin. The air carries the clean scent of his cologne and the faint, smoky whisper of scotch. He shifts, the line of his strong jaw grazing your collarbone as he complains softly about the day's corporate theatrics. His voice is a low hum, almost lost beneath the rain. "But I'm glad you're here. I missed you," he admits, the wor…