“I know,” he whispers. He kisses my hair again and then just holds me, not at all bothered by my inability to release him.
After several minutes, he clears his throat. “I came by to see about taking you out tonight.”
My cheeks flush. “Oh.”
He laughs, twists a piece of hair from my ponytail around his finger. “How would you feel about coming over to my place instead? We can order in some food and stream a movie.”
“That sounds wonderful.”
I finally manage to pull away from him. He immediately puts a finger under my chin and tilts my face to his. His lips are on mine a heartbeat later. My scent pushes out from me like a damn bomb going off, so strong he grunts at the impact.
“Do you want to stop by your place first to grab anything you might want?” he asks as he pulls away, not winded at all. My own chest heaves with my pants. It takes me a minute to realize what he’s implying. My cheeks flush, but it’s excitement and desire that pool in my stomach and make my hands tingle with anticipation. He hands me the coffee. I manage a bright smile.
“Yeah, that would be good.”
Chapter Eighteen
CARYS
Three hours later, I’m wedged between Rhett’s strong legs, his hands on my thighs and my head resting against his chest, a period romance playing on the large screen. A blanket from my apartment is thrown over our outstretched legs. Rhett’s movie room has a couch big enough to seat eight, but we’ve made a little pallet out of pillows just in front of it, my need to be in constant contact still riding me hard. Rhett runs his nose over my shoulder, pushing my shirt aside, as I eat another piece of popcorn from the obscenely large bowl just to the left of our cocoon.
He lightly bites the sensitive spot where my neck and shoulder meet just as we watch the resistant couple on the screen finally admit they want each other, coming together in a hard, impulsive kiss. I perfume, and he chuckles.
“He could have picked a better spot to let it slip,” he murmurs. Goosebumps race down my throat. “They’re totally going to get walked in on before they can actually do anything with each other, and it’s his own damn fault.”
“It’s about the romance of it all!” I say with a smile, grabbing another piece of popcorn. “It’s raining, she’s flustered because of her mom being a jerk, and her best friend’s been gone for a week. She’s at a really low point, and he sees that. He’s trying to show her that she’s not alone.”
He sighs. “Doesn’t change the fact this is about to get awkward as fuck for everyone involved. He didn’t even bother to lock the door. That’s, like, the first rule you learn when you’re fooling around. Secure your border.”
I huff. “Isn’t that a war tactic?”
Rhett shrugs. “War, lust. They’re oddly similar at times.”
The guy on screen manages to get the woman’s dress pulled low enough to show off a really cute lace bra, their kiss still going strong, the camera focusing on the contrast between his tan, calloused fingers and the unblemished, creamy white swell of her breasts. I scent again, my cheeks flushing.
“That bra’s really cute,” I admit, trying to ignore how the sight of the woman’s breast has my stomach tightening. That’s new. Mostly. I’ve felt it a few times around Billie, too.
Rhett’s laugh is so warm, it’s infectious. It pulls me right out of the confusing jumble happening in my body.
“Enjoy it for another three seconds because that door’s about to fly open. My guess is it’ll be the older brother.”
Sure enough, the woman’s older brother storms into the room, pauses for a comically long minute, and then launches himself at the love interest. I flinch away from the violence and then twist entirely, wanting to kiss Rhett instead of see the third-act break up we both know is coming. He doesn’t seem to mind, palming the side of my neck and taking the kiss deeper, his tongue dancing with mine. Lemongrass surrounds us, intertwines with my own scent, and Rhett groans. He fumbles for the remote, not pulling away from me, and then the entirescreen turns off, plunging the room into almost darkness, only the small lamps just behind the sofa giving light.
He breaks away from me, trailing kisses across my jaw and then down my throat, just like that very first time. And like that time, he wraps my hair around his hand and tilts my head back, giving him room to lightly lick the hollow of my throat. My pussy clenches, slick drenching my panties and rushing onto my thighs. My whimper is echoed in his own moan.
He twists us faster than I can track, my own back pressing into the blankets, his knees wedging my own wider, and his arms braced just above my head, avoiding all of my hair that’s now fallen out of the ponytail. He trails his nose across the neckline of my shirt.
“This okay?” he asks. His gaze flicks up to me, and I quickly nod.
God, yes, it’s okay. Better than okay.
He pushes my shirt down, revealing my own lacy bra, a happy spring green that matches my eyes. He grins and then nudges the edge of the cup aside, too, running his tongue over my nipple. I whine and arch into him, the touch just enough to have need rushing through me like a fire across dried brush. My orchid scent detonates like a bomb around us, the strongest it’s ever been.
Rhett groans, the sound nearly mournful, and then his movements become less controlled. He undoes the front closure without missing a beat, his fingers warm against my skin as he slides both my shirt and bra up. I sit up just enough that he slides them all the way off, tossing them into a corner of the room without looking away from me. My nipples harden under his keen gaze, and he smirks.
“Yours, too,” I demand breathlessly.
He doesn’t argue, kneeling between my spread legs and pulling the Henley off with a single hand, tossing it the samedirection as mine. My hands are immediately on him as I sit up, needing to trace every inch of him, taste and feel him, have him plastered against me until there’s no way we can be separated.
