I’m hard. Fuck, I’ve been hard since I saw her sitting at the bar.
I straddle her, careful not to put all my weight on her, and kiss my way down her body.
This experience is different for me.
This is the first time I’ve slept with someone sober since Cara.
I know how bad that sounds, but I’ve been mostly picking up women after I’ve had a few drinks, and if I’m being honest, I’ve been drunk most of the time ever since I became single, including the night Con and I had a few months ago.
Con is the first woman I’m giving myself to with a clear mind.
I wonder if she knows how big that is for me.
She threads her fingers through my hair and tugs gently, encouraging me as I start to lick her pussy.
I give her a devilish smile and forget everything else; my mind is consumed by Con, by her body, and by just wanting to please her.
After she comes, she kneels before me on the carpet. I see those red lips where I want them, and it’s a better sight than I even imagined.
Yeah, life isn’t as bad as I’ve been making it out to be.
Chapter Seven
Con
I don’t know what it is about Rhett.
Yeah, he’s possibly the hottest guy I’ve ever seen in real life, and yeah, he’s fucking amazing in bed and obviously well experienced. But it’s something a little deeper than that.
When I look into his eyes, I see the same thing that I see in my own in the mirror.
Loneliness.
He’s seeking a connection, even if it’s just for a night or two.
I know how he feels.
Before he leaves my house the next morning, he asks me for my phone and programs his number into it, sending a text to himself so now we have a way to contact one another.
He flashes me a smile before he leaves, and I sag against my front door after I close and lock it. Last night was different than the first time we slept together. He left the light on, so there was nothing we didn’t see. There was eye contact, and I don’t know...
There was a connection there.
And neither of us was drunk.
I don’t want to read too much into it, because for all I know he might do a runner now and never text me at all, but yeah.
I want to see him again.
And I know it’s probably not the best idea, because someone is going to get hurt, most likely me if I start having feelings for him, but I like him, and I’m admitting that to myself.
The sex was bomb, and even better than last time. The man is talented with his tongue, fingers and cock. Talk about a trifecta.
I have a long bath, pampering myself a little with candles, music and a bath bomb, and then once I’m dressed, I pick up my guitar for the first time in months and play.
The truth is, I haven’t felt this good in a long time.
And I don’t want that to go away.
* * *
I see him again a few times during the week and that next weekend.
“So I know this isn’t a romantic idea,” he says after showing up at my house on a Saturday morning, grinning, leaning his forearm against my door. “But I came to finish shit in your house for you. I’ve been told I’m pretty handy.”
“Oh, you’re handy all right, but you don’t need to help me do anything, Rhett. That’s my problem, not yours.”
Although the thought is so fucking sweet. So sweet I don’t even know how to react. I thought he was back for only more sex, but he’s offering to paint the walls for me. I don’t know what to say.
He ignores my comment. “Put me to work, Con. You shouldn’t be doing all of this stuff by yourself. It will be faster if there’s two of us.”
I blink quickly so he can’t see the tears in my eyes. No one has offered their help to me so easily. No one except Cara.
Is this what it feels like being able to rely on someone?
“Okay,” I whisper, clearing my throat.
He lifts my chin up with his fingers, scans my eyes and kisses me. “And then maybe I could take you out for dinner? A real dinner this time.”
I swallow hard, wanting to pinch myself. Is this man for real?
“Okay,” I manage to say again.
He leaves me standing there, blown away, and starts prepping everything to finish painting the wall. Eventually, when I accept the situation, I join him and start to help. We put some music on, and let me tell you, it’s a million times more fun having someone with you when doing stuff around the house. A million.
Plus, he’s much taller than me, and he doesn’t even need to use the ladder.
“You didn’t have to come and help me, but I appreciate it,” I say, smiling and letting out a sigh at the same time. “You surprised me. I didn’t know there were good men like you left in the world.”
“I’m not as good as you might think,” he mutters. “But I’m happy to help. You shouldn’t have to do all this by yourself.”
I get us some soda out of the fridge and the two of us paint alongside each other, working as a team. And a pretty good one at that.
After we’re finished with the wall, we clean up, take a shower together and go out for dinner, where I insist on paying, and afterward Rhett stays the night. I don’t know what’s happening here exactly, but it’s exciting.
He makes me feel alive.
Connected.
Human.
“Good night,” he whispers, kissing my neck.
The next morning he’s gone before I wake up.
And I can’t stop smiling for the rest of the day.
* * *
Monday comes around and I’m back at work. Rhett has been texting me, and it’s been nice getting to know him that way, too.
“You look...different,” Cam says as she studies me. “You’re glowing. Either you got laid, or you are pregnant.”
“I’m definitely not pregnant,” I comment back, laughing.
Cam grins widely. “Good for you.”
“What’s good for her?” Atlas interrupts, being nosy.
“Nothing,” Cam says to him, rolling her eyes. “Woman talk.”
Atlas arches his brow. “I’m not a boy, Cam. I’m a man. That shit doesn’t faze me. You on your period? Need me to go to the store? I can buy tampons, pads. Just let me know what pussy size you are.”