Any nerves drain away when I slip my hand inside my underwear, pressing my hand against my skin. I bite even harder on the pillow to stop the whimpers from escaping me. Part of me wants to scream and get him in here, but I know I wouldn’t be able to be this confident in real life.
In the fantasy, I’m moaning insistently, begging him to tear my leggings off.
“I don’t want you to mess around, Rhett. I know you need me. I’ve seen you looking. Take out your hard cock and drive it into me. Oh, fuck, Rhett. Bury it deep, squeeze my ass and grab my hips as hard as you fuck me…”
I gasp, rocking my hips in time with my hand, jerking them up and down as the friction becomes addictive and unstoppable. I can hardly take it anymore.
My toes curl, then the fantasy changes.
Suddenly, I’m sitting atop him, my hands buried in his hard chest, my fingernails bending against his firmness. His hands gliding over my hips, squeezing possessively, sinking his touch deep into my curves.
“I fucking love how thick you are,”his husky voice fills my mind.“Just for me. Only for me. Always for me…”
I bite my pillow as something hot and needy swells inside of me. The orgasm flows from my clit and spreads through my core, tickling and teasing my body, making my legs shake as I arch my back and imagine him sliding all the way inside of me, deep, deep, duh-duh-deep…
“Fuck.” I gasp, letting my hand fall, peeling my eyes open and staring at a shaft of moonlight on the ceiling.
I sit up, a sleepy, silly smile on my face, feeling drunk from what I’ve just done.
Outside, there’s a grunting noise?
Or whatcouldbe a grunting noise.
I snatch up my T-shirt, struggling to get my breathing under control. Maybe I imagined it. Or maybe not. Maybe it’s Lucian and somehow he’s out and he’s going to rush in here and finish what he started.
I tiptoe out of my bedroom, poke my head into Mira’s room.
She’s sleeping on her side, her thumb in her mouth, smiling around it. She looks far more peaceful than she has in a year. Rhett has changed her without a doubt, and even if I don’t understand how, I savor it, cherish it. It’s special.He’sspecial.
I shake my head, wondering if I can chalk this up to post-orgasm delirium. Great, now I’m diagnosing myself like some Victorian quack doctor.
I knock on Rhett’s door. “Rhett?” I whisper. “Are you awake? Rhett?”
I knock again, causing the door to slide open, the hinges whining softly. The guest bed is empty. A pit opens in my gut. He’s nothere. It was a crazy scheme to begin with, this fake-boyfriend thing, but if he was going to leave, he could’ve at least told me.
Then, behind me comes acreak, another door.
I spin, panic tearing through me.
A man with a gun stands in the doorway, eyes gleaming.
I open my mouth to shout, then Rhett steps into the soft lamplight.
“Hey, hey, it’s me,” he says quickly. “I was keeping watch.”
“Were you outside?” I ask.
He nods. “Doing a circuit of the property. Should’ve bought the cameras and sensors today. It’s hard to sleep without them.”
He strides across the room, wearing a plaid shirt and cargo pants, with thick, chunky boots on his feet. He hasn’t shaved since I met him, and now he’s got a short beard, not just stubble, shot with silver through it.
I wonder what he’d say if I told him,your beard is like moonlight.Is that romantic or just plain weird?
“Are you okay?” he says, touching my hand and squeezing it softly. “You’re on the verge of hyperventilating.”
That’s because my body is still humming from what I just did… and from the fear.
“I’m fine,” I mutter.
