“You’re even beautiful under your clothes.” He runs a fingertip from my belly button to the base of my cock, which just might explode the first time he touches it. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt such a powerful desire to have someone’s hands on me like this. It’s usually just a dull ache; a want to have an orgasm with someone else and nothing more.
But this is more than an ache. Every kiss and touch makes me want more. More kisses, more touches, and more of him…all before I’ve even had a single orgasm. Which is quite the revelation to have when you have a hot cowboy naked in front of you.
“It hurts,” he says against my skin. “It hurts so bad to have you like this.” His hand finally skims down and wraps around my cock. “I’m sorry if it’s fast.”
“Don’t be. My bones are already turning to jelly. This won’t take long.”
Rhett didn’t even kick his jeans all the way off. They’re still puddled around his ankles. It’s kinda thrilling to know he wants me so badly he couldn’t be bothered to get completely naked.
His thumb slides over my tip, gliding through the pool of pre-cum I’m leaking for him.
“I can’t wait.” I take this hand away and spit in his palm before guiding him to wrap us together. “I need it, Rhett. Fuck…”
He doesn’t disappoint.
Rhett buries his face into my neck. He nips and kisses with ragged breaths as his hand jerks us off. My hands roam his body and memorize the coarse chest hair and firm body. The scent of rain-damp clothes and arousal, and something that’s uniquely Rhett.
“Fuck…baby…” he gasps and tenses against me as the warmth of his release spills into his fist. He doesn’t stop, pressing me closer with his lips on my ear. “Come for me, sweetheart. I want to hear how much you love this.”
Okay. So, nobody has ever made me come on demand, and yet I’m doing it before he’s even finished his sentence and babbling nonsense the entire time. His lips smile against my skin, and I wish I had the energy to tell him not to be so smug.
“I think I saw Jesus,” I mumble and slump against him.
He chuckles softly and kisses my temple. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“I need to sit down.”
He backs me up, almost tripping on the pants still at his ankles, until I hit the edge of the bed, and he guides me down. “Are you okay?”
Again, his gaze fills with concern.
“Yeah, cowboy. You just rocked my world, is all, and I’m woozy.”
He rummages through a pile of laundry on the floor, and after wiping himself down, he wipes up the mess that’s mainly on my stomach.
His finger stops at the faded scar on my groin. I have little body hair since chemo and losing a testicle to cancer, so there isn’t anything but a little peach fuzz over the scar. It’s no longer the angry red it was at the beginning, but it’s still there as a reminder.
His gaze meets mine, and instantly, I know he knows what the scar is from without me elaborating. He bends and feathers his lips over the area in a soft kiss before straightening.
My heart lodges in my throat at such a tender act. Most men don’t say a thing, if they even notice. But Rhett more than noticed. He acknowledged it, and my heart might have stopped beating.
“Diamond…do you…Is this going to be a problem with the group?”
Okay, not what I thought he’d ask. Perhaps my face conveys concern and not the complete adoration he deserves for just being so damn good. However, he raises an important question.
“What? Do you think the guys are going to give you a hard time because we had sex?”
He tenses and shifts away like I said the wrong thing.
“Is that what it is? Just a one-time thing?” Rhett says in a voice so low I have to strain to hear him.
Lord, this man. He couldn’t be harder to understand if he spoke a different language.
“No. I’d prefer if it wasn’t.” He huffs a sigh and finally sits next to me. Tater stands and moves around her bed with a groan. It draws Rhett’s attention, and with a hand, I guide his face back tolook at me. “I think I’ve made it obvious that I’m into you. But I’ll go along with whatever makes you comfortable. The guys know I live my life my way and would do nothing to upset our group.”
“I’m not sure what I want. It’s…” he laughs again, but not with humour. “It’s not you, it’s me. I have…I’m complicated.”
“You know I don’t mind complicated.”
