He hands me a gray t-shirt with Shotsky’s logo across the front. He must have seen what happened and purchased it at the bar, a simple act of kindness that gives me more hope than I’d like to admit.
“It’s not something I can change, Rhett,” I finally say. “It’s not something I chose either.”
Hundreds of times I’ve imagined running into him, each scenario slightly different from the one before. None of them could have prepared me for the way I feel right now: like I could fall to my knees, wrap my arms around his legs, beg for his forgiveness, and swear to do whatever it takes to win his trust. I’m not above doing any of that.
The line moves ahead, and two girls enter the bathroom together.
His presence penetrates the small space we share, and his stare bores into me.
“I’ve missed you,” I say, lips numb and trembling as I smile. I’ve wanted to tell him that a hundred times, even if he already knew. “So much.”
Rhett says nothing.
“So you’re in Philly now?” Ugh. I’m horrible at small talk, but he’s not giving me anything to work with.
The girls leave the restroom and the woman before me goes in.
His eyes search mine, and I’d give anything to know what he’s thinking about. I can’t read him. His stoic, indifferent expression puts me on edge, and the room has suddenly grown twenty degrees hotter.
The restroom door opens a few moments later, and I’m next.
“Thank you for this.” I lift the t-shirt and head in, only I’m not expecting him to join me, locking the door behind us.
“What are you doing?” I release a nervous laugh, my fingers working the buttons of my top. He’s seen me naked before, but that was then. Changing in front of him now, with his unrelenting gaze, sends a hitch to my breath and a swarm of anxious butterflies to my stomach. When I unhook the final button, I toss the blouse in the trashcan and slip my arms through the sleeves of the t-shirt in record time, but Rhett grabs the shirt, tugging it away and taking a good look at me.
I’ve never felt more vulnerable.
He stares me up and down, taking in my body like it’s the first time all over again, eyes lingering on my breasts for a beat longer. His breath is heavy, his chest rising and falling. Rhett’s chest and shoulders are massive, bigger than they were before, and veins protrude from his arms when he flexes.
I wish he’d say something.
“Are you happy, Rhett?” I ask the question I’ve wanted to know the answer to for the longest time.
“Do I look happy?” he answers. His gaze falls to my mouth, and suddenly I can’t breathe.
I want him to kiss me.
I want him to kiss me more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my entire life.
“Did you miss me?” I ask, delivering it with a casual smirk. If I pretend like I’m teasing, it won’t hurt so bad if he says “no.”
Rhett drags his teeth along his bottom lip for a half second.
“Yes? No?” I tease. We need to lighten the mood here because this is way too intense.
“Is that your boyfriend out there?” he asks.
My brows meet. “Who? Seth? No, no, no. We’re just friends.”
He gives a single nod, studying me. “Why was he touching you?”
I laugh. “Did you follow me in here just so you could interrogate me?”
“Your personal life is none of my concern, Ayla. It was a simple question.”
“Then wh—”
His lips crash onto mine in a frenzied rush that sucks the air from my lungs. Rhett’s hands slick down my outer thighs, cupping my ass and lifting me to the wall, where he presses his body against mine and I hook my legs around his sides.
I don’t know what this means or why he’s doing it, but I’ll be damned if I ask because I don’t want him to stop.
My fingers interlace at the nape of his neck, and his kiss hurts, but I don’t mind because a kiss that hurts is better than a kiss that doesn’t exist at all. His tongue grazes mine as our lips dance, and I smile when I realize he tastes exactly the same.
Someone’s pounding on the door, but we don’t stop.
“Hurry up! I gotta piss,” a woman shouts from the other side. “If you don’t wrap it up, you’ll be stepping in it on your way out!”
Got to love New York.
Rhett groans and loosens his grip on me, letting me slide down the wall before tossing me the t-shirt. I tug it over my head, and before I realize what’s happening, his hand is clamped around my wrist and we’re ducking out a back door, dashing across an alley, and sprinting through a crosswalk toward the Hotel du Glace across the street.
It’s only when we’re in the elevator and his brute body is pinning mine into the wall so hard I can’t breathe and he’s dragging my lip between his teeth and the taste of blood hits my tongue …
… that I realize he didn’t miss me at all.
He wants to punish me.
Thirty-Six
Rhett
* * *
I toss her on the bed—recklessly—the very same way she treated my heart.
Reaching for her jeans, I yank them down her thighs, my calloused hands rough against her tender skin. My bad. Was that careless of me?
Her panties are next.
I rip those straight down the middle, not unlike the very thing she did to me. It was almost too easy. Was it that easy for her?
“Rhett,” she breathes my name, holding me in her wanton gaze, but I mute her with a rough kiss, my hand knotting in her hair as I control her mouth.
I won’t be kissing her softly tonight. Nothing about this is going to be gentle. This isn’t a jaunt down memory lane—far from it.
Running my finger beneath the left strap of her bra, I pull it taut before letting it snap her skin. Even in the dark, I see the beginnings of a welt, but it’s only minor, and it’ll fade with time. Nothing like the mark she left on me.
Unfastening my jeans, I shove them down and climb over on top of her, crushing her lips over and over, sucking the air from her lungs and digging my fingers into the curved flesh of her perfect fucking ass.
Her thighs hook around mine.
She wants this. She wants me.
Hate to break it to her, but I’m not the man I used to be.
I position her beneath me, dominating her and spreading her legs apart, teasing her clit with the tip of my swollen cock before dragging it to her entrance, pressing just enough to torture her.
Yeah. I want to fuck her. That feeling never quite subsided no matter how much I tried to force it away, but I can’t fuck her like I used to. She might get the wrong impression.
I rise, pulling my body off hers. “On your knees.”
She hesitates before rolling over and pressing herself up on all fours. Tonight I’m going to fuck her like a dog so I won’t have to feel her staring at me. I don’t want to see that little sliver of hope in her eyes that has abso-fucking-lutely no business being there.
Grabbing a condom from my jeans pocket on the floor, I rip the packet with my teeth before rolling it over my throbbing cock. I’ve waited a long time for this, and I’m so fucking hard my cock aches.
Tracing my fingertip along her seam, I watch as her body shivers, and as soon as she exhales, I thrust deep inside her with one forceful move.