Dark eyes roam over my body, like he’s searching for something, and when they capture my gaze, heat flickers there. I know Rhett. But I feel as if I don’t knowthisRhett anymore. “And yet,youchasedmeout here, darlin’… didn’t you?”
The familiar term of endearment has the sour lemonade and vodka mixture churning in my stomach. It’s not something I have a definitive answer to. Not one that I care to share with him in the middle of this parking lot, anyway.
“Admit it. You were jealous. But that’s nothing new, is it?” His warm breath mingles with mine as he baits me.
My face heats, not only from rage, but from the raw sexual energy exuding from him. I can’t. I close my eyes, trying to distance myself from his intense glare. He grips my chin, fingers dimpling my cheeks. “Seeing you jealous has always turned me on.”
“That sounds like ayouproblem.” But his words have done exactly what I’m certain he intended them to do, and my core contracts. Rhett always had the ability to dampen my panties in seconds, and from the twitch ofhis lips, the fucking bastard knows full damn well he still affects me.
“It’s anusproblem. Always has been.” Punctuating his point, he grinds the hard length of his cock against my stomach.
I gasp. “Maybe Brandy can take care of that hard-on in your jeans. Because I sure as fuck won’t.”
“Are you worried your manager will catch wind of you suckin’ a dick that isn’t his? After all, that must be how you ended up with that ostentatious rock on your finger, right?”
Fuming, I shove at his chest, forcing him to take a step back. Before I can respond, his mouth curves into a wicked smirk. “Can’t say I blame him. I could never resist those lips wrapped around my cock, either.”
My hand connects with his cheek before I even know I’ve done it. I don’t feel bad about it, though. He’s being an asshole.
His eyes widen, and his features morph into something unrecognizable. Closing the distance between us, he gets right in my face. “That’s it, Noah. Get mad.” His nostrils flare. “It’s been three fucking years, and I’mstillfuming.”
I jolt as he slams his hands against the truck’s frame on either side of my head, once again caging me in. I flinch, staring into his anguished eyes. Under any othercircumstance, I would be afraid. But never with Rhett. He’d never harm me. Not physically.
He drags in a breath, his gaze boring into mine, his voice filled with gravel. “About time you felt what I feel, Noah. Every time I hear your name or see your fucking stunning face, I wanna hate you. But I can’t. And it drives me fucking crazy.”
As he finishes, my heart clenches hard in my chest, and my gaze flicks to the muscle that’s jumping at the back of his jaw. It tells me he’s not done. Not even close.
He shakes his head, astonishment bleeding from his every pore. “The fucking audacity you have coming back here, berating me for moving on with my life while you’re flaunting that prick’s ring. Un-fucking-believable,” he bites out as his chest heaves. “I wanna rip it off your finger.”
His gaze shifts to my lips, lingering a beat too long. Every nerve ending has become electrified. My breath catches, but I force myself to remain still. A war plays out behind those chocolate eyes. He wants something he knows he’s not allowed to take. I don’t know how it’s possible, but he steps closer. Close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from his skin. The steady beat of my heart stutters like it wants to remember something I’ve tried so hard to forget. His breath caresses my cheek, and my pulse pounds in my ears. It’s then I realize, if he kisses me, I’ll let him. And I’ll hate myself for it.
I should push him away. But instead, I freeze like some part of me is transported back to the summer when I worehisring, and he looked like my forever.
“You’re embarrassing me, Noah.”Bradley’s voice is in my head, like a poison.“Remember who made you, sweetheart. You belong to me.”I’ve heard those lines so many times, they sound like scripture. My phone is tracked, he controls what I’m allowed to wear, and he’s pushed everyone close to me out of my life. It’s a miracle Sage hasn’t given up yet. I flinch every time my phone buzzes. He does all of it in the name of protection. But I know… I’m nothing more than his possession. Every movement I make is really him pulling the strings and calling it compromise.At least he’s not hitting me.
I should feel guilty for being in Rhett’s arms, but I don’t because the parts of me Bradley is slowly killing have finally remembered how to breathe again. Unsure what to do next, I choke out, “What are we doing?”
“I’m a good man, Noah,” Rhett rasps, “but even though you’re not mine anymore, I’m taking the goodbye we never got.” One hand moves to my waist while the other tangles in my hair, pulling me in as if he’s afraid I’ll vanish. Before I can put a stop to this, Rhett’s lips land on mine like a collision. No patience, no rhythm. Just lips crashing, teeth grazing. Raw longing, splitting us wide open. He’s not pinning or forcing me. It’s just urgent and desperate. My breath hitches as histongue brushes against mine. The cadence shifts. Slow, then fast, like neither of us can decide what this is. A goodbye or something that never ended. We kiss like the world doesn’t deserve to see it. And when we finally break apart, our foreheads still touching, I get my answer.
“Go back to your penthouse with a view, Noah. There’s nothing here for you anymore. You made sure of it.”
RHETT
4
My tires ripup the gravel as I tear down the lane toward Black River Ranch. I’m a man possessed.What the fuck was I thinking?Three. Years. I spent three years trying to erase the remnants of Noah Lane from my lips.
I wasn’t rid of her taste, not by a long shot. But fuck, I was trying.
Addiction runs in my family, and I can safely say my ex-fiancée is my drug of choice. Then. Now.Always.
“Goddammit.” Kissing her was the height of stupidity. She isn’t mine anymore, hasn’t been for a long time. But hell, when I saw that ring on her finger, something inside me snapped.
I’m man enough to own up to my mishaps, and tonight was a huge mistake. I slipped straight off the sobriety wagon and overdosed on something I know is bad for me. Was the hit worth the years of progress it hasundone? Turmoil heats my blood, and my palm slams against the steering wheel.
“Fuck!” Maybe I shouldn’t have left the bar. Lord knows I could do with another drink, or ten, which is precisely why I stopped off at the liquor store on the drive back and grabbed a bottle of cheap bourbon.Nothing eases heartache better than my good friend Jim.
Battling with the raging storm of emotions clawing their way through my body, I push down on the gas pedal. The light of my grandmother’s ranch house illuminates the night. But instead of doing the responsible thing, like going the fuck home, I veer left and follow the small dirt trail that runs along the side of the house toward the mountain.
