"Says the guy who alphabetized our spice rack last week."
"Organization isn't uptight, it's efficient." I unbuckled my jeans, sliding them down my legs, hyper-aware of Rhett's gaze following my movements. "Besides, you're the one who baby-proofed the entire apartment for cats."
"They're like toddlers with sharper teeth and no language skills." Rhett's voice trailed off as his eyes fixed on me, pupils dilated, lips slightly parted.
I stood there in just my black boxer briefs, my body responding to his attention with embarrassing eagerness. For a moment, neither of us moved, the air between us charged with something electric and unpredictable.
Then Rhett crossed the space between us in three long strides. His arms slid around my waist, pulling me against him, chest to chest, the heat of his skin burning through the thin cotton of our underwear. He pressed his forehead to mine, his breath warm against my lips.
"Thank you," he said softly, his voice rough with emotion. "For today. For helping with the snakes, even though you were terrified."
"I wasn't terrified," I protested automatically. "I was appropriately cautious around death noodles."
"But you still stayed. You still helped. That's what matters."
I wanted to deflect with humor, to make some crack about snakes or firefighter courage, but something in his eyes stopped me. Instead, I cupped his face in my hands, feeling the slight stubble against my palms.
"I'll always stay," I said. "She matters to me too, you know."
"I know. Fuck, I was so scared for her," he whispered. "Thank you for convincing her to stay the night here."
"Of course. That asshole knows which apartment is hers. I don't think she should go back until they catch him." I shuddered at the thought, and he hugged me tighter, burying his face against my shoulder.
"Kiss me. Take my mind off of it," he whispered.
I smiled and grabbed his chin, tilting his head up to meet my lips.
The moment our lips connected, the familiar fire ignited between us. His mouth opened under mine, our tongues sliding together in a dance we were still learning but that already felt like coming home. I tasted the mint of his toothpaste, and groaned into his mouth as his hands slid down to grab my ass, pulling our hips flush together.
The hardness pressing against mine sent a jolt of desire through me so intense it made my knees weak. I spun us around, backing Rhett up against the wall, pinning him there with my body as I deepened the kiss. I buried my hands in his hair, tugging in the way I'd learned made him moan. Rhett loved to be manhandled.
He didn't disappoint, the sound vibrating against my lips. His hips jerked forward, seeking friction, and I gladly gave it to him, grinding against him with deliberate pressure. The thin barrier of our boxer briefs only heightened the sensation, the knowledge that we were both so hard, so ready, yet still teasing each other.
"Fuck," I breathed against his lips, breaking the kiss to trail my mouth along his jaw, down to the sensitive spot where his neck met his shoulder. "I want to fuck you so bad."
Rhett's head fell back against the wall with a thud, exposing more of his throat to me. I took advantage, sucking hard enough to leave a mark, claiming him in some primitive part of my brain that I didn't fully understand.
"Yes," he groaned, his hands clutching at my back, nails digging in slightly. "I can't believe I haven't had you inside me yet. I want it so fucking much."
I reached between us, palming him through his boxer briefs, feeling the impressive length of him hot and hard against my hand. He bucked into my touch, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps that told me how close to the edge he already was.
I crashed my lips back to his, the kiss turning messy and desperate. I could feel him trembling against me, his body vibrating with the same need that was threatening to consume me. We'd been dancing around this since that first kiss in front of Aimee, building the tension with hands and mouths but never taking that final step.
And I wanted it—fuck, I wanted it more than I'd ever wanted anything. Wanted to feel him open up for me, to push inside him, to make him fall apart beneath me. The image alone was enough to make me throb painfully against the constraints of my underwear.
But then Rhett pulled back slightly, his breathing ragged, his eyes glazed with desire but also something else. Regret. My stomach dropped.
"Troy," he whispered, his voice wrecked in a way that made me ache. "I want you so fucking much. But..."
I pressed my forehead against his, trying to steady my breathing. "But?"
"The walls are thin," he said, gesturing vaguely toward where Aimee was sleeping in our guest room. "And she just went through something traumatic, and..." He closed his eyes, swallowing hard. "I don't want her thinking we can't stop fucking for one night even after everything that happened."
I stepped back slightly, the cold air hitting my overheated skin. He was right. Aimee had been through a terrifying experience with the snakes, not to mention the drugged-up guy pounding on her door. The last thing she needed was to hear us going at it like animals on the other side of the wall.
Aimee was usually so bold and brave, and the thought of her wide, lovely blue eyes, terrified and full of tears, and my heart sank. She needed our care and a good night's sleep, not to be kept awake by sex sounds.
But some small part of me wondered if there was more to it. If maybe Rhett was holding back because he was thinking about Aimee. Because, like all of the sexually flexible but mostly straight guys I'd ever hooked up with, Rhett was sure to decidehe'd rather be with a woman at some point, and for him, the woman he'd always dreamed of was right next door.
