“Fuck. I’m sorry. Come on.” Rhett takes over, gripping me by the arm and walking fast toward the house. He commands people out of the way, leading me inside and cutting to the front of the line for the bathroom. The door opens, and three girls stumble out.
“Excuse us.”
Drunk, bossy Rhett is hot. Almost hot enough to ignore the stench of beer now coating my dress.
The next girl in line smiles at him. Her hand goes to her hair, and she curls a finger around a long, brunette strand. “No problem. Need any company?”
“Wha—” He fumbles, clearly trying to piece together why he’d need company in the bathroom. Before he can, I charge ahead. The beer is dripping down the front of me. Even my panties are wet.
To my surprise, he follows me in and shuts the door.
I find a towel, hope it isn’t too used, and blot the front of my dress. Or Josie’s dress.
“What can I do to help?”
I’m not making a lot of progress. With a sigh, I drop the towel to the vanity. “It’ll dry.”
A shiver wracks my body. The air conditioning vent in the bathroom has kept this small room cold, which probably feels nice if you aren’t soaked.
“Here. Take my shirt.” He pulls it over his head without a second thought and holds it out to me.
I stare. Not at the white ball of cotton in his hand, but at his chest. My mouth goes dry.
“Are you freaking kidding me?”
“Uhh…” His gaze drops from me to the shirt, back to me. “It’s clean. I promise.”
“You can’t walk around like that.” I fling a hand toward his abs. All eight of them.
The corners of his mouth tip up. “Like what?”
“Don’t play dumb with me.”
“Angel, around you, I don’t have to play. You make me stupid. I can’t get anything right.”
“Looking like that, who needs a brain?” I mutter.
He stalks toward me, a cocky glint shining in his eyes. “Are you trying to say that you like what you see?”
“I mean, it’s whatever.” My gaze dips over his chest, though, and my nipples tighten. “Gah.” I can’t even pretend. “Your body is ridiculous.”
“I’m glad you think so. I might never wear a shirt again if you keep looking at me like that.” He gently places the T-shirt over my head and pulls it down. The heat of the fabric and the nearness of our bodies does funny things to my insides. My heart rate climbs, and my chest feels tight. I slow my breathing out of habit.
“Like what?” I reach out and slide my fingers over the ridges of muscle.
He inhales, and those blue eyes darken. He ignores my question. Not that it requires much of an answer. “Your hands are cold.”
“Someone tossed a beer on me.”
“I’m really sorry about that.”
“You say that a lot.”
“I’ve fucked up a lot. And I’m sorry for that too.”
“The list keeps getting longer.” My laugh dies when he places a calloused thumb at the corner of my mouth.
Staring at my lips, he traces along the bottom one with the pad of his thumb. “Add this to the list.”
I’m in an alternate reality as he leans forward, still distracted by his body and the way mine feels when he’s this close. It’s only when his mouth slants over mine that my brain processes he’s kissing me.
His hand on my face slides down to my neck in a possessive hold that contradicts the softness of his lips. My back is to the vanity, legs hitting against it, and Rhett crowds into my space as his tongue slides into my mouth.
My heart pounds in my chest. Somewhere in the very back of my mind, I'm aware that I'm doing a potentially very dumb thing. Kissing Rhett when I know it won't go anywhere beyond tonight. Still, I can see why he leaves a path of crying girls behind him. He kisses like a champ. He’s sweet and tender and hard and demanding all at once, and my head is spinning.
He lifts me up and sets me on the vanity, then pushes between my legs. His fingers thread through my hair, and he tugs gently, exposing my neck. His nose grazes down the curve of my neck, and his mouth nips and kisses along the way.
My legs tremble as he moves those big hands of his to my legs. They inch up my bare skin and slide under the hem of my dress that’s now hitched up very high on my thighs. My core aches, and I will him to move his fingers just a little higher.
His chest presses against mine, and I remember that I have a half-naked man in front of me. A half-naked man with a body built to make good girls want bad things. I slide my palms over his pecs and down his sides. My exploration encourages him, and one long finger finally touches my soaked panties.
“It’s the beer,” I say. It isn’t, or at least not entirely.
We both groan as he circles my clit through the silky material.
I'm ready to let him fuck me here. Correction, I'm ready to beg him to fuck me here. And I’m not even the drunk one.
A knock at the door pulls us from the moment, reminding us there’s a line of people waiting to get in here.
“We should probably go,” I say, even as I spread my legs farther apart.
He pulls back, smug grin firmly in place, hand still rubbing me gently. “They can wait.”
Unfortunately, they don’t. The door opens, and the girl that asked if we needed company, walks in. She studies us for a beat before declaring, “Don’t mind me. I just need to pee.”
Rhett straightens, removes his hands from under my dress, and pulls the hem down to cover me.
“Ready, angel?” His voice is gruff with want, and no, I’m absolutely not ready.
He takes my hand and keeps me close as we exit the bathroom and head back outside. The cool night air hits me, and I take deep, steadying breaths.
Holy crap. I almost had sex with Rhett in the bathroom with a line of people outside. If I’m completely honest, I almost had sex with Rhett in the bathroom while a girl peed on the toilet. I’m not proud.
A group of hockey guys stands just outside of the doorway, girls intermixed with them. One of the guys, Jordan, I think, calls to Rhett, and we join the circle.
“Heard you were having a good time,” the guy says, his gaze bouncing between Rhett and me. “Now I know why.” He tips his head to me. “Jordan, we sorta met at the rink.”
“Sienna,” I say. “I remember you.”
“That’s Liam, Heath, Ginny, Dakota, Reagan, and you already met Adam,” Rhett calls them out, pointing as he goes. I look at each and smile, offer a small wave.
“Did you and Maverick lose your shirts at the same time?” Adam grins as he tips back the beer in his hand.
“I spilled my beer on her.”
I’d forgotten how drunk he is until he tries to wrap an arm around my waist and sways, which means we sway. I'm perfectly sober, but my legs are still shaking from what went down in the bathroom.
“Easy there,” Adam says. “Let’s not give her another black eye.”
Rhett flips him off.
“Speaking of catastrophes, I’m still soaked. I should find Josie and see if she’s ready to go.”
His gaze trails down my body, and I’m pretty sure he’s thinking about my panties. My body warms, cheeks flame.