And, oh Jesus, he knew what he was doing. Which might have bothered me if it didn’t feel so damn good. A second later, I had my head dropped back against the mirror behind me and my hands fisting the hair on his head. “Rhett,” I moaned, my voice throaty and raw, and coming off rather desperate. “Rhett, seriously….Rhett.”
I couldn’t even get out a complete sentence.
Everything inside me was building up way too fast. But I didn’t want to come like this. Not this time. We’d only just gotten together, and I needed to feel him inside me for this moment instead. So I squeezed my hands tighter in his hair to get his attention. He stopped and his eyes met mine from across my body.
“I want you inside me,” I gasped.
He didn’t have to be told twice. A millisecond later he had his arms gripping my lower waist tight, and his erection pressed right against my entrance. Then he pushed inside. Now I really screamed, and he stifled that scream with a kiss. The feel of Rhett stretching and moving inside me was way too insanely good. Not just on a physical level, but being connected to him like this did something to my heart too. It squeezed the same way the muscles squeezed low in my stomach.
“You love my cock, don’t you?” he uttered with playfulness in his voice, kissing across my neck and chest, starting to pump in a rather hard rhythm. In and out. In and out.
“Shut the hell up,” I breathed. God, he was so full of himself. But he was right, I sort of, kind of, absolutely loved his cock. And it kind of turned me on more hearing him say it.
“And I love your pussy,” he grunted, his voice as rough as his thrusts were becoming. “So I guess that makes us even.”
He had such a tight grip on my ass that it might have stung had I not been so focused on more important things. His hips began to move in more of a rolling, caressing pattern against me. And his lips would not leave my skin, kissing, his tongue tasting every little spot he could reach.
This was different. Different than all the other times we’d been together.
Because all the feelings involved were now magnified. I felt the emotion radiating off of his skin and seeping through mine. I felt light and airy, like this was some sort of dream. And I feared my impending orgasm, mostly because everything else already felt too strong. All the lust we’d always shared was still there. But now that it was backed up by something more powerful, falling over the edge of that cliff frightened me. I wanted it, but it still frightened me.
The ‘where is this thing going?’ thought popped into my head. Could Rhett be the real deal? Could Rhett be ‘the one’ for me?
And still...whether I was ready for it or not…the edge of the cliff came. I came. Like a jolt of lightening, a round of absolute bliss and pleasure pulsed through me, starting at the source and spending across my stomach and chest then all the way to my fingers, toes, and even the roots of my hair. I forgot everything else, my fears, my crazy thoughts about him being ‘the one,’ and only enjoyed the moment. The feeling had me squeezing his ass, cursing him and praising him simultaneously.
Then it ended, too soon, and these delicious little aftershocks hit me for a small moment. After, I grew momentarily exhausted. Rhett noticed because he slowed down and stopped. His hands held my body close to his, as he continued to stay still, and he gently kissed me. “That is amazing every single time. Sweet Jesus, Sydney,” he swore softly. “Sweet Jesus.”
He took a moment, his controlled breaths warm and tingly against my shoulder.
“I’m close,” he muttered. “Like I’m afraid to move.”
“Move,” I told him, pressing a kiss to the side of his mouth. “Not too fast though. I want to see if I can feel it.”
“Shit, you’re bad,” he whispered. Then he pulled out—all the way out. And holding himself strong in his hand, guiding himself, he pressed back inside. He wasn’t fast, but he wasn’t gentle either. This yelp left my lips. Um…I’d thought I was done, but that move felt incredibly nice. Better than nice. I immediately wanted him to do that again.
He did it again. And I still couldn’t help the noises I made in reaction. And it happened again and again. On the fourth time, he stayed inside, pumping in a rhythm, setting a seamless new pace. It felt like our bodies were created to do this together, a perfect match. A skill that perhaps some couples took a lifetime to master, we’d already achieved. Now he had his thumb on my clit, stroking there too, and—shit!—if I didn’t come again. Hard. My insides squeezed in waves against him, the feeling rocking to my core and coursing through my veins. It lasted and lasted until one moment later, he pulled out and he came, right there against me. As in against me, on me.
Basically…it was the hottest, sexiest thing ever.
He was the hottest, sexiest thing ever.
And then after, he pumped back inside me—only once, and ever so gently. This last time wasn’t even about pleasure, as we’d already finished that. It was more about claiming. Like even though we were through, he wanted to remind me one more time that I was his.
He pulled out, taking a breath, moving away, smiling and shaking his head.
“What?” I whispered. The room felt still, a little too still, and my body a little too exposed to him all of a sudden.
“Nothing,” he said, leaving me on the sink, basically spread wide open. He turned around, grabbing something off the towel rack behind him—a wash cloth. He ran it under warm water in the sink behind me. I started to get up, but he quickly stopped me. “Don’t move, princess. I made a mess all over you. Again. Let me clean you up.”
He was so damn coy as he said this, obviously proud of himself.
And even if we were becoming more and more comfortable with one another in these sort of intimate situations, I still felt my cheeks burn red hot. He settled between my legs, using the wash cloth to carefully wipe away all the evidence of our love making. I was tender down there. But he seemed to be aware because he moved slowly, carefully, gently.
“Do you do this for all your girls?” I joked.
“I have only one girl,” he said, serious as a heart attack. “And no.”
Finished, he tossed the wash cloth into the waste bin beside the sink. Then he bent down and pressed one kiss against me—down there. There was no tongue as it wasn’t necessarily sexual but rather sweet. And my heart took off like a jackrabbit because of it and because of the incredibly kind way he was being with me, pounding so hard I couldn’t really breathe.
“I want to eat,” he said standing back up, all nonchalant Rhett again. “Food,” he added for clarification. “I’m starving. So let’s either order room service or go downstairs for dinner. Actually, if we go downstairs then this could be our first real date.”
“Aren’t you supposed to have dinner then sex?” I played, not knowing what else to say because of how insanely nervous I’d grown in the last few moments. He had my ribs cracked and my chest wide open, my heart completely exposed.
“Maybe,” he said. “But have dinner with me anyway.”
“Okay. I’m actually pretty hungry now, too.” I hadn’t been before, but everything else had helped me work up an appetite.
So I borrowed one of the robes from his room, gathered up my stuff, and we agreed to meet up again in ten minutes. This was a good excuse to get away, because I needed a moment alone in my own room to collect my thoughts, get dressed, fix my makeup, and prepare for my first ever real live date.
Rhett already had all my other firsts, and I was excited to give him another one.
CHAPTER 16:
RHETT
I’d never been on an actual date before. Not one that had been premeditated and involved dinner. I’d had plenty of ‘hook ups,’ but this was something completely different. Sydney left my room, and I hurried to take a shower, scrubbing as fast as possible and then dressing even faster. I’d brought one dress shirt and a pair of khaki pants—so I wore that. Ten minutes later, I was knocking on her door.
“One minute,” she called from inside the room.
“You look nice,” she muttered.
“You too,” I replied lamely, like a completely hopeless moron.
Then we both started heading down the hall in silence. It was a little awkward, but I think only because we were both nervous about this. About halfway down the hall, my confidence suddenly revived itself. I’m not sure what snapped, but something did. I grabbed her waist, squeezing her tight, and yanked her body in close against my side. She laughed and that seemed to ease the tension.
“Damn,” I whispered in her ear, praising her like I should have a minute ago. “I’ve never felt so lucky in my life. I’ve never been so hopeful about whatever tomorrow’s going to bring. I’ve never had a day better than this. You’ve got me by the balls, princess. And I mean that in the best possible way. I am yours. Period.”
Wow. That wasn’t the sort of confession I expected to come pouring out of me. I wasn’t much of a romantic, or good at being sentimental, but with her I could not stop myself.
“I like your balls,” she teased, biting down on her lip and glancing sideways at me to gauge my reaction.
“You would say something like that,” I grunted, and for revenge nipped playfully at her neck.
She shied away, laughing. “Sorry. I couldn’t help myself. Sometimes you say the most random things. But yeah, I know exactly what you mean.” Her laugher subsided and she snuggled in closer to my side. “Because I’m feeling all of that too.”
“Good. That’s what I like to hear.” I slapped her ass as she got onto the elevator. She shot me a threatening look as I followed, but I could tell she’d enjoyed that. That was what I loved about Sydney—she was refined and fun all at once. I could be me, one-hundred and ten percent, and she didn’t seem to mind.
The restaurant in the hotel was overpriced and trying too hard to be fancy, but also surprisingly packed. This led me to believe the food would be decent. There were a million and one restaurants in a big city like this, so a busy restaurant meant there had to be something good about it.
We sat at a booth close to the entrance. I might have opted for something more intimate, but that was all they had. The server came by and we ordered food rather quickly. Then with no menus in front of us, it was just us. I hardly knew where to start. There was so much about Sydney I didn’t know, and I just wanted to know everything.
“You don’t have a single tattoo,” I said to her, over the noise of the restaurant, starting the conversation.
“Neither do you,” she countered.
“I know. I don’t have any because there’s never been anything special enough that I wanted to put on my skin forever. But that’s not my point…you’re the one who wants to be the tattoo artist. Not me. Don’t the two usually go hand in hand?”
She shrugged. “I guess for some people. And maybe I would have a couple, but I’m such a baby when it comes to pain. Plus, it’s more about the art for me. I love creating different designs with my brother. I love helping him bring someone else’s idea to life. That’s why I want to do it. Going to school this year, I’ve missed all of that so much. I didn’t even realize that it was such a big part of my life until it was gone.”
She was very passionate as she spoke about it. I knew the feeling. That used to be baseball for me. “So do it. Although, I will warn you, you’re gonna have a line of ugly, hairy, old men out the door. All of them getting tattoos, not for the art, but because they want your hands on their sweaty bodies. I hope you’re prepared for that.”
The loudest, most genuine laugh left her lips. “You’re an ass.”
“Hey,” I said, putting my hands up. “Just being honest.”
“Well…I’ll let my brother have the hairy ones. While I take all the hot ones. Don’t worry about me, Rhett.”
I wasn’t worried about her. She could hold her own. For as sweet and as shy as this girl could be, I had no doubt in her ability to stand up for herself and chase after the things she wanted.
“So do it,” I repeated.
“It’s not that simple.”
“How so?”
“My parents. They might seem like the fun-loving, easy-going types, but they pretty much freaked the year my brother came home covered in tattoos and with that as his new career. It was so hypocritical too because my parents don’t even work. Well, my dad buys and sells real-estate for my grandfather, but that’s more like a hobby. Then my mom is your basic socialite. They party, they drink, they travel, and they have fun like there are no consequences in life. But for some reason, my brother’s career choice wasn’t good enough for them. I don’t know. It makes me nervous about choosing the same thing.”
“At least you know they eventually got over it with your brother, though, right?” I tried.
She thought on that for a second. “That’s true. But, either way, I still have time. I’ve got four years left of college before I have that sort of decision to make. The only thing it might affect now is what major I choose.”
Our food came right then. I’d been so engrossed in the conversation that I didn’t even noticed our server until he was practically setting a hot plate down on my arms. I sat back, letting him put the food in front of me. He eyed Sydney for a long moment, which was super annoying, but then he left us alone.
I picked up my fork, ready to dig in, but I quickly sat it back down to say one more thing to Sydney. “Well, whatever you want to do, no matter what becomes of this thing between us, know that I’ll always have your back. Those parents of yours try to disown you and kick you out of that big, fancy house or something to that effect—then you’ll always have a place to stay with me. And I don’t mean that in some twisted sex-for-rent sort of way. I mean that in a friend sort of way.”
These big tears welled up in my girl’s eyes. She said nothing and stared at me from across the table. I certainly hadn’t meant to make her cry. Although, any time I had seen her cry, those big green eyes of hers turned only greener and into such a force of nature. A force of nature that left me feeling like a giant wave had crashed down over my head. It was disorienting and numbing all at once.
“So we’re friends,” she said, shaking her head and smiling now. The tears were still there, but maybe they were the good sort of tears.
“Of course we’re friends, princess,” I told her gently, reaching across the table to grab her hand. “We’ve always been friends. Among other things.”
She sighed. “I don’t know how you do it. But, dammit, if you don’t have this way of making me feel—”
Feel what? She stopped talking in the middle of her sentence, her eyes darting up at something…or someone. Her face paled and her breath halted. Someone else was here, at our table, and I glanced up to see what she was seeing. For moment, I thought for sure it would be Ben, hovered over us, fucking everything up to pieces.
It wasn’t Ben. It was worse than Ben.
It was her brother.
“John,” she gasped, immediately pulling her hand away from my touch. “What are you doing here?”
* * *
Why this skinny guy could scare the shit out of me? Who the hell knows? But seeing him now, I was freaked. Fucking freaked. Every visible space on him, from his neck to his toes, was covered in artwork. He was night. Sydney was day. But it wasn’t necessarily the tattoos that bothered me. Or his dyed black hair. I had no problem with those things. Instead, it was what it all added to. There was something unsettling about John, something that instantly liquefied my insides and made me feel helpless. Maybe it was the fact that he was her family, the most important person to her, and that meant he held a lot of influence over my future happiness.
“What the hell is this?” he barked at her. “A date?”
“John—” s
he started.
“No,” he interrupted. “You know what? I knew something was wrong. The moment you left, this nasty feeling settled in the pit of my stomach, and I couldn’t shake it. So I booked the first flight out here.” He hovered over our table, arms crossed, with his eyes only on his sister. I didn’t even exist to him. I wasn’t even good enough acknowledge. “I knew it. I knew it. I knew it,” he went on. “I knew this trip was a bad idea. And sure enough, I show up, and you’re with him.”
He said the word ‘him’ like I was some sort of fungus he couldn’t get rid of. Wow. He had a hell of a lot of nerve to stand there, talking about me like this.
“Have you even seen Ben?” he asked her next.
“No,” she muttered. “I haven’t.”
“What the fuck? Fill me in here because I’m so confused right now. And, wait a minute, are you crying? Sydney?”
“It’s nothing,” she said, wiping at her face. She’d had tears in her eyes from a moment ago with me. Good tears, I believe, not the bad kind. And he was seeing the remnants of that.
“It doesn’t look like nothing,” he argued, assuming the very worst, of course, automatically.
What an asshole. I had my hands in my lap. They were balled up in fists, and it was taking every ounce of my self-control to remain calm. I wanted to follow Sydney’s lead in this situation, but she wasn’t doing or saying much. I couldn’t tell if she needed me to jump in and defend her or keep my mouth shut. Hell, I couldn’t even tell if her brother had just shot our whole relationship to hell simply by showing up. Or if we were still intact. And really, as much as I could take care of myself, part of me needed her to do something right about now. Where was that strong, sassy, ‘take-no-shit’ woman that I’d gotten to know and love? All I was seeing was her shy side. Maybe there were family issues here that I didn’t understand, but I needed a little more from her.
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