“Oh, it was entertaining, but that chick scared me.” Rhett shakes his head. “She was hell-bent on ruining that guy.”
“You didn’t think it was deserved? He did kill her husband, and the justice system let him get away with it,” I point out.
He tilts his head to the side, contemplating me. “True, but still. She was way over the top. Why not just take him out and be done with it? Why did she have to destroy everyone else in his life too?”
I’m compelled to explain her feelings and what drove her, not that he cares. I guess I do. Too much. “Because it hurts to see the ones you love suffer. If you’re gone, then it’s over. But if someone takes away the ones who matter to you, you’re in pain for the rest of your life.” Oh, it sounds so logical when I explain it that way. Simple.
Nothing in life is simple, though. I’m complicating everything right now just having this conversation with him. My sworn enemy. My stepbrother.
It’s all so weird and twisted. I feel like I’m living in a Lifetime movie.
“You’ve been thinking a lot about this, haven’t you?” Rhett’s amused. He wouldn’t be if he knew I was planning the same sort of thing.
“Maybe,” I say with a careless smile.
Without warning he moves in on me, so I have no choice but to back up until my butt hits the front door. “You are unlike any girl I’ve ever gone out with before,” he murmurs as he reaches out and drifts his fingers across my cheek.
“What do you mean?” I’m breathless, and no guy has left me breathless before. The warm glow in his eyes as he studies me is making my heart beat faster, and I feel like I could practically jump out of my skin as I wait for his answer.
“It sounds so cliché,” he admits. Oh, I am living the cliché dream, so I mentally tell him to go for it. “But you’re—different.”
“Why? Because I don’t chase after you? I’m not one of your adoring fans who surrounds you at the bars?” Um, I probably shouldn’t have said that.
He chuckles, and his fingers move to my hair, threading in the strands, tucking some of them behind my ear. “That’s exactly it. I sound like an asshole, but they all chase after me.” He hesitates. “Except you.”
“Doesn’t the guy prefer to chase?” Yes, yes, I read that in a magazine article too. Men prefer the chase. They don’t want to be chased. It’s flattering at first, but then the challenge is gone. And that has always been my goal. To be a challenge.
The code he can’t crack, remember?
“Most definitely,” he murmurs as he leans his head in, his mouth hovering closer. Closer…
Oh God. He’s going to kiss me again. I can sense it. Usually I prepare to be spectacularly underwhelmed, but this time, I lock my knees to keep them from wobbling and inhale on a shaky breath, my eyes fluttering closed. Anticipation courses through my veins, making my skin prickle with awareness, and then his mouth is on mine. A gentle press of skin on skin, and like the weakling I never knew I could be, I immediately part my lips, inviting him in.
A jolt courses through him, I can feel it. Like I surprised him in the best possible way. He takes my open invitation, his tongue licking along my lips, a damp tease that makes me gasp. One large hand cups the back of my head while the other one wraps around my waist as he pulls me flush against his hard body, and I go willingly. He completely takes over the kiss, his tongue circling mine, his arm tight around my waist, his fingers stroking my hair. I reach for him, sliding my hands up his broad chest, circling my arms around his neck. He’s solid and warm, his mouth hungry on mine as he presses me into the front door.
I rip my mouth from his to stare up at him, and he looks just as shocked as I feel. His damp and swollen lips are parted, his eyes wide as he studies me. Our ragged breaths mingle, the only sound in the otherwise quiet night, and I blink up at him, unsure of what to say or do next.
“Can I come inside?” He phrases it as a question but I see the determination in his gaze. He wants to come inside and he really doesn’t want me to say no.
Slowly I nod and he loosens his grip on me so I can turn and unlock the door. I do so with shaky hands, getting the key into the lock nearly impossible until I take a steadying breath and tell myself to get a grip.
The door finally opens and then we’re both stumbling inside, Rhett kicking the door shut before he spins me around and I’m wrapped up in his arms, my back against the door. His kisses are hungrier, his searching tongue thorough, his hands everywhere. I’m just as greedy, my purse slipping from my fingers and falling onto the floor with a loud thud as I reach for him. He groans when I smooth my hands over his chest, this low, primal sound that makes my insides quiver.
He wants me. I can feel it in the way he touches me, kisses me. He’s not just kissing for kissing’s sake, he’s tasting me. Savoring me. His hands aren’t rough and groping like every other boy I’ve been with. No, he touches me with purpose, like he can’t get enoug
h and he wants to make sure I like it too.
We kiss for what feels like hours but is only minutes. My hair is a mess from his hands, my body shaking, and when he slides those big hands of his to my butt and lifts, I go with him, wrapping my legs around his waist, digging my ankles into his backside. He has me braced against the door, our lower bodies pressed together, his hands still gripping my ass. Oh God, the pleasure courses through me as we slowly grind against each other. We’re basically dry humping in my living room, our mouths locked, our hands wandering, searching, becoming bolder with every pass. This has never happened to me before. Never, ever, never—and I want more.
More, more, more.
“Damn, you taste good,” he mutters after he breaks our kiss, his mouth going for my neck, raining damp, hot kisses everywhere.
I tilt my head back, offering him better access. “Don’t stop,” I whisper, hating how desperate I sound, but I can’t help it.
I want him.
He nuzzles the sensitive skin of my neck just before he nibbles on my ear, his sharp teeth making me suck in a breath. I shiver, my eyes tightly closed, lost in the sensations of what Rhett’s doing to me. His hands slide up, up…until he’s cupping my breasts and I lean into his touch, eager for more.