Full Throttle

CHAPTER TWELVE

RHETT threw the last of his clothes in one of the boxes Nolan had brought with him and surveyed his empty bedroom. He wasn’t sorry to be leaving this small and dark apartment, though he was sorry he’d been relegated to Shawn’s guest bedroom. But it was for the best, for now. He wasn’t going to live with that passive-aggressive shit, where she poked at him and circled around what was bothering her and jabbed with sly, underhanded comments. So he would stay in the guest room and hope she would learn to trust him, learn that she could say whatever she was thinking, feeling, and he would respect that.

He wanted to make her happy. It was that simple.

But he wasn’t going to be put in a position where he never knew if a sponge, or worse, was going to come at him.

Was he demanding and intense? Yes, he was. He couldn’t change that, and he was honest about it, had been from the first minute he met her. But he was also fair, helpful, polite. So he liked to think. So why was Shawn fighting him so hard at every turn? It was like she was determined to wrest power from him.

“You okay?” Nolan asked him, appearing in the doorway. “You look like you could chew glass and like it.”

Rhett shrugged. “I don’t know, man. Why didn’t you warn me that marriage was complicated?”

Nolan’s eyebrows shot up. “Because I didn’t know you were going to elope about three minutes after meeting Shawn. If I had, I might have suggested you wait a month or twelve and get to know her before getting hitched. But you did, so you’re in it now. What’s going on?”

“I feel like Shawn is trying really hard to hold on to her independence and prove that she can’t be controlled. But I don’t want to control her. I just want to be partners, and when you’re partners, sometimes one is the leader and sometimes the other is, depending on the situation. It’s natural.” That was what he had seen with his parents’ and his siblings’ marriages, and he wanted that for himself. He wanted to lead their intimate sexual relationship and let her lead the rest. Why was that so difficult? Hell, he’d think a woman would jump at that.

“You’re right, it is. But maybe because this is a brand-new relationship, you’re going to need time to sort that out. Moving in together is a big step, let alone getting married, so cut Shawn some slack.”

Nolan was right. Especially considering they weren’t really even married. What the hell did Rhett really expect from her? “You’re right. And I am figuring her out, that’s for sure. She’ll be here in a few minutes because she feels guilty about getting short with me last night. She’s the kind of woman who throws something out there in anger and impulse, then immediately does something thoughtful that’s totally unrelated because she feels bad.”

“I think she and Eve are friends for a reason. They’re similar personality types. But I don’t get the sense Shawn worries as much as Eve does.”

“Oh, I think she worries plenty.” Rhett dropped the box on the floor and lifted the mattress from his bed off of the box spring so he could start to disassemble the bed frame. “Funny, neither of us married a woman like our mother. Momma never worries. She has total confidence the world will bend to her will.”

“Ha, that’s true. But I’m not surprised you didn’t. You’re basically Mom, you know. I’m more like Dad. But I have a need to mediate, calm things down. I think Eve and I are a good fit that way.”

Rhett realized that marriage had already changed his relationship with his brother. They were talking man-to-man, friend to friend, instead of big brother to little brother, or adult to child. As of yet, they’d barely even made fun of each other in the last hour. It was nice to be able to share with Nolan, yet there was a limit to how long they could talk about their feelings without a drop in testosterone.

“I am not my mother. That’s disturbing.” He shoved the mattress against the wall. “Now are you going to stand there and scratch your nuts, or are you going to help me?”

Nolan grinned. “Definitely nut-scratching.”

His sister Jeannie and her husband, Mark, were in the living room, picking through the remains of Nolan’s old furniture that Rhett had inherited and no longer needed. They were trying to furnish their finished basement on a budget. Rhett figured when he and Shawn divorced and he moved out of her house, he would just start fresh with new stuff. It would be a small reward to himself for surviving the six months intact.

The doorbell rang. “Come in!” Rhett yelled as loud as he could, already wresting the box spring up.

They could hear Jeannie greeting someone and Nolan took the box of clothes and went out into the living room, leaving Rhett alone with the box spring, which, while not heavy, was awkward for one person to maneuver. “Thanks, dick!” he called at his brother’s retreating back.

Nolan’s response was his middle finger thrown over his shoulder.

Yep. They were back to being brothers.

A second later, Shawn’s head popped into the bedroom. “Hi,” she said, sounding breathless, her dark blond hair tousled from the wind.

Rhett smiled at her because, the truth was, he was glad to see her. He liked the companionship between them, despite the speed bump of the night before. He wanted their relationship to work. He didn’t know what he meant by that exactly, but he did. He wanted to be with her, in some legitimate capacity, for whatever time they had together.

“Hey, beautiful, how was your day?” He slammed the box spring against the mattress propped against the wall, and bent down to get his wrench out of his toolbox.

“It was good.” She sounded surprised by that fact. “Eve had some great suggestions for PR, and I posted the job listing for a marketing rep. I cleared more stuff with the lawyer, and I signed vendor contracts for the season. How about you?”

“I slept in. It was awesome. Then I worked out. And now here I am, breaking down a bed I don’t need.”

“What are we going to do with that and the furniture in the living room?”

“Oh, my sister is taking the couches and my other sister is taking the bed. And yet another sister is taking the kitchen table. All I have is my clothes and some sports equipment. Once I put out the word that I had free stuff up for grabs, the Fords descended faster than a hot knife through butter. It’s one of the pluses of a big family.”

“Oh, okay.” Shawn was worrying her bottom lip with her teeth, her arms across her breasts. “Aren’t you going to, uh, wish you had that stuff later?”

He liked the jeans she was wearing. They were snug, and her hip was jutting out to the right as she leaned on the door frame. Her breasts were pert beneath her fuzzy gray sweater, and she was wearing shiny lip gloss on her full lips. Abandoning his Allen wrench, Rhett decided he needed to kiss her. She just looked too juicy and irresistible. As he stood and moved toward her, he shook his head.

“It’s old and it was Nolan’s. I’m not particularly worried about it.”

For a second she looked like she wanted to bolt, obviously aware of his intent. But when he put his hand on the back of her head and gently massaged her scalp, urging her to him, she gave in with a sigh. The kiss had his eyes drifting closed, his body leaning in to Shawn. God, she tasted good. Felt good.

He didn’t want to argue with Shawn. He wanted her to smile at him, with that special smile she had where her mouth was wide and her eyes crinkled in amusement. He wanted to settle down into their relationship and just enjoy each other. So maybe he was like his mother in that regard, because he wanted what he wanted and he assumed he was going to get it.

“Thanks for coming to help,” he said, brushing his lips over her jaw. “Did you meet Jeannie and Mark?”

“Yes,” she said, her neck tilting back. “They’re very nice.”

“Jeannie wants to talk to you about the wedding party, or reception, or whatever we’re calling it.”

“Oh, Lord,” was Shawn’s opinion. “I’m sorry this has spun so out of control.”

“I don’t mind.” He didn’t. Because if he were honest with himself, and he always was, he wanted it to be real. He knew that he could be happy with Shawn, and he wanted this to be real. Wanted to work toward ensuring that it was. “But I understand how you’re feeling. It’s a lot to take in. Just let my sisters and mom handle the whole thing.”

“Oh, I intend to. I may be a control freak in some regards, but planning a party is not one of them. I don’t know squat about girly stuff like decorating and cakes, as you can tell from the state of my house.”

“I like your house. It’s comfortable, cozy.” Rhett lazily stroked her backside, nuzzled in her hair. He could touch her for hours and never get tired of the feel of her skin, her body.

“Are you moving or making out?” Eve asked from the hallway. “Get the lead out, Rhett, I want to go home before midnight.”

Rhett smiled and took a step back from Shawn. “And with that, Eve shatters the mood.” He glanced over Shawn’s shoulder at his sister-in-law. “Carry this mattress set out to the truck, Eve, and we’re all set. Show us your muscle.”

“You think I can’t?” Eve rolled her eyes. “I’ve got this.”

Rhett stepped aside, pulling Shawn with him, as Eve and Nolan came in and hauled the mattress back out, Eve swearing but not looking like she was overly strained.

“You did that on purpose,” Shawn said to him, clearly amused as she lifted one of the boxes off the floor. “You played Eve.”

“We’re all competitive. It’s not hard.” Rhett picked up the other box and grinned at Shawn. “We both know all I need to do is dare you to do something, and you fall for it every time.”

She laughed. “I can’t deny it. All I can do is hope you don’t abuse your power.”

“I’ll never dare you to do anything that matters, I promise.” He grew serious, wanting her to understand. “I’ll never dare you in bed, I hope you know that. That wouldn’t be fair.”

Her smile disappeared. “This is that trust thing again, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “I want to sleep in your bed tonight. Not to have sex, but just to be near you, to hold you. Do you trust me not to initiate sex?”

She stood, bulky box in her arms, and moistened her lips, her brown eyes darker than usual. “What if I want you to initiate sex?”

He felt a sharp kick of lust. “Do you?”

“Yes. I do.”

That was what he wanted to hear. He wanted her to be straightforward, honest with him. No game playing. “It would be my pleasure, then.”

Even with the dual boxes between them, he leaned over and kissed her. “I’m going to make you come harder than you’ve ever come,” he promised her, voice low, his desire intense.

“You’d better,” she told him. “I’m trusting you.”

That right there turned him on. It meant everything to him that she trusted him. “You’ve put your trust in the right man, Shawn.”

Shawn hoped so. She did trust Rhett, though she still had a niggling concern in the back of her mind that she was going to regret this marriage, their relationship, the sex. That when all was said and done, she was going to get hurt. But she couldn’t stop it. There was no way she could live in the same house with him, pretending to be his wife in public, and not want as much as she could have. His green eyes were so intense, so serious, so committed, that she knew she couldn’t spend night after night with him down the hall in the guest room while she yearned for another immersion into the pleasure he had shown her.

It wasn’t logical. Nor was it smart. But it was what she wanted.

“I know,” she told him, and it was true. She had asked him to enter into a marriage of convenience with her days after they had met. She could have found herself in a disastrous situation with a guy who would manipulate and use her need for secrecy to his advantage. She could have wound up with a slob or a mooch who expected her to be his housekeeper. She could have found herself having to ditch the whole insane idea, losing the track, and facing public humiliation.

So yes, she trusted Rhett.

It seemed stupidly obvious now to her.

Her fear of regrets didn’t stem from concern that he would in some way make things difficult for her, it was that he wouldn’t. Her fear was that she would fall for him, and that in the end, it would hurt to let him go. That if she allowed him to be a part of her life, it would be lonely when he left.

But it was too late to worry about any of that. She was in and, much like him, once in, she was all in.

Nolan and Eve reappeared for the box spring. “Seriously?” Eve complained. “You two are doing nothing but making moony eyes at each other. I’m starting to get pissed.”

“My wife is very romantic,” Nolan told them.

“Sorry,” Shawn muttered. “We were just making some plans.”

“That don’t include the two of you,” Rhett said. “So we would like to thank you very much for helping out, but I know you’re both busy, so you can head home now.”

Well, that was a little obvious. Shawn followed Rhett down the hallway, wondering if he was going to give that same speech to his sister and her husband. Though truth be told, there wasn’t really anything left in the apartment, aside from a lonely vacuum, which Jeannie was using on the worn carpet, and a random floor lamp.

“I should be offended, but I’m just grateful,” Eve said. “I want to get a run in before I collapse for the night.” But then she added, “Shawn, can I talk to you for a second before I leave?”

“Sure.” Shawn looked at her expectantly, no idea what Eve would want to say, but suspecting it wasn’t anything particularly positive.

“Alone,” Eve said bluntly.

Wonderful. “Sure,” she said, less enthusiastic. She turned and went down the hallway, figuring they could use the now-empty bedroom.

Once inside, she rounded on Eve, arms crossed, unable to prevent her defensiveness.

“Whoa, tiger, pull back your claws. I come in peace.” Eve held up her hands. “I just want to ask you if, you know, everything is okay. If you’re happy.” Then without waiting for a response, she winced. “God, that sounded so asinine. Sorry. I just want you to know that if you regret your impulsive decision to marry Rhett, we can get you out of it. This isn’t like the tattoos we had done when we were trying to best each other with our obnoxiousness. We don’t need laser removal, a physician, and a few grand to get you out of this. A hundred bucks on the Internet and we can have you divorced.”

Shawn almost laughed. Almost. Because she was still annoyed about the tattoo ten years after the fact, she didn’t. “It’s your fault we have such bad ink, you know. I’m never going to admit otherwise.”

“It’s your fault, too!” Eve protested. “You started it by egging me on about coming in last at the fair when I entered a shooting contest and slipped on a discarded onion ring and shot the light out.”

“Yeah, then you told me that the only way I was going to get a guy between my thighs was if I tattooed one there. And that Stoney White, who you know I had a massive crush on, had called me lanky and had mimicked a pelican walking. That was bullshit.”

“I did you a favor. Stoney White was a loser. His name was Stoney, for Chrissake. Plus I didn’t make you take that car bomb. Or the second. You were bound and determined to prove to Stoney that you could do a shot of whiskey in thirty seconds.”

Huh. Perhaps she hadn’t matured as much as she thought in the last decade. It seemed her seduction techniques had not improved. “Well, I could. It wasn’t just bragging. I still can, you know.”

“And I still have a tattoo on my inner thigh that says ‘Open 24 hours.’ ”

Shawn grinned. “That was a beautiful night, wasn’t it? We were such idiots, but damn, we always had fun.” She wondered why Rhett hadn’t said anything about her tattoo. He had certainly been down between her thighs, so he had to have seen it. Most men burst out laughing the first time they got a glimpse of it.

Eve laughed. “Maybe a little too much fun.”

“Nah. Truth is, we let too much fun slip away from us. We grew up and both became workaholics.”

“I’ve been working on a better balance myself. Nolan helps. How about you? Seriously, not to sound like your mother—or rather like anyone’s mother but yours—how is it going? You still haven’t answered that question.”

“It’s intense,” she admitted, much preferring to be as honest as she could without having to lie to her best friend. “It’s hot, it’s sexy, it’s new, it’s an adjustment. But it’s good. For real. No worrying about me.” She would worry about herself a shit ton, so no need for someone else to get in on the action and stress themselves out.

Eve studied her for a minute. “Okay. Cool. I won’t get in your business anymore. You know you can talk to me about anything, and it won’t matter that Rhett is Nolan’s brother. I’m a steel trap.”

“Unless we’re going head-to-head. Then you’ll spill every secret I have if it will throw me off my game.”

“That is not true,” Eve protested. Then she grinned. “Much. But you know I’ll only tell embarrassing secrets, not painful ones.”

“Thanks for the distinction. But I can’t exactly bitch you out, because I’m the same way. It’s ultimately why we get along.”

“Alright, let’s go get laid.” Eve fist-bumped her. “To the power of the V. And whiskey. And shitty tattoos.”

“To finishing first. And friendship. To the Brothers Ford.”

“Amen, sister.”

That was as warm and fuzzy as she and Eve were ever going to get. They were essentially guys with vaginas. But they had both come to terms with who they were years ago.

“I think this was our middle school fantasy, you know, to marry brothers,” Eve said with a laugh as she headed back down the hall.

Unfortunately, it was still a fantasy.

Shawn fought the urge to sigh.

“So I have to ask . . . is he kinky?” Eve said, looking both super curious and super horrified. “Does he have . . . contraptions?”

“I am not talking to you about that other than to say there are no contraptions.” Good Lord. She didn’t even want to consider what Eve was envisioning.

“So he’s kinky.” Her eyes sparkled and she gave a choking laugh. “Shawn, if only Stoney White had known you have a penchant for kink, he could have been all yours. In all his idiotic meathead glory.”

“Shut up, Eve,” was her opinion on that.

Eve just laughed harder.

“I can keep my clothes and stuff in the guest room,” Rhett said as he surveyed the space, or lack thereof, in Shawn’s bedroom. She wasn’t a housekeeper to his mother’s standards, that was for sure, and she had odd things propped in the corners of her bedroom, like a large stuffed gorilla and a hunting rifle, which didn’t contain bullets. He’d checked when she was in the bathroom.

“No, it’s okay. I can clear some space in the closet for you,” she said. Which she promptly did by shoving her clothes to the right until hangers were jammed out at awkward angles and her sweaters looked like they were choking one another. Then she ripped a black-and-white dress off the hanger and balled it up and tossed it on the floor of the closet. “I hate that dress. It makes my ass look big.”

“Somehow I doubt that,” he said wryly as he pulled clothes out of his box and hung them up in the three point five inches of space she’d given him. He was no neat freak himself, so he couldn’t say the chaos of her closet and bedroom bothered him. He just wasn’t sure he was ever going to find a clean shirt again.

“So I have a question for you.” It was something he hadn’t wanted to ask in the intimacy of bed, because he had a feeling it was going to embarrass her or make her laugh.

“Yeah? What?”

“Why do you have the face of a little boy with curly hair tattooed on your inner thigh?” He had to admit, it had given him a start the other night, but he had managed to ignore it. Now it was generating a lot of curiosity. He couldn’t figure out what crazy story was behind it, and he knew there had to be one.

Shawn made a face. “It’s not a little boy! It’s Justin Timberlake, back in the day when his hair looked like a chia pet.”

“Really? Okay, so why would you tattoo a portrait of him diving into your vagina? Any particular reason?”

“It was a bet, and no, I’m not going to tell you the full story. Let’s just say that Eve didn’t fare any better than I did.”

Rhett raised his eyebrows. He didn’t even want to consider what was between his sister-in-law’s thighs.

“I’ve thought about getting it removed but it’s expensive, time-consuming, and painful.”

“You could cover it with another tattoo. The right artist could make JT disappear.”

“Yeah.” She gave a noncommittal shrug. “It is kind of fun to see the reaction of the gyno when I get my Pap test, but I have gotten some negative reactions from former boyfriends. That’s probably why I keep it.”

Rhett laughed. “Why does that not surprise me?”

“Now that I think about it, you’re the first guy ever who didn’t stop and ask me about it.” She looked over at him, curious. “But you obviously saw it.”

It was his turn to shrug, pleased that she had made the distinction. It had been a conscious choice to ignore that silly tattoo in the heat of the moment. “It wasn’t worthy of my attention right then. The only thing worthy of my attention was you.”

“Oh.” She cleared her throat.

Rhett put his baseball bat and glove in the corner. He didn’t play much these days, but back in high school he’d loved cracking that bat against a ball. He didn’t want to part with the option that he could play a ball game for fun.

“What’s with the gorilla?” he asked, because as he studied it, he realized he and Shawn had gotten busy the other night with the big lug watching them. He wasn’t sure how he had missed it in the first place, but now that he’d noticed, he didn’t like it. The gorilla had a creepy smile, and Rhett had seen enough horror movies to dislike it.

“I won it for selling a crapload of Girl Scout cookies. I had to win it, you know, once I saw him in the prize brochure. He was calling my name.” Shawn bent over the dresser, yanking open a drawer and pulling out socks, which she dumped on the bed. “His name is Coconut.”

“He has a name?”

“Of course.”

“Can we, uh, turn him to the wall while we sleep? I don’t like the way he’s looking at me.” Rhett decided he didn’t want his baseball bat next to Coconut. He moved it next to the bed, where he could easily access it.

“Are you serious?” Shawn blew her hair out of her eyes as she finished emptying the drawer and closing it again. She then opened the one below it, stuffing the socks back into it, ignoring the fact that there wasn’t really any room for them. “Does the gorilla actually bother you?”

“Yes.” He wasn’t going to lie about it. “He’s fucking creepy. I don’t need him staring at me while I sleep.”

“He’s not real,” Shawn said with a grin, trying to shove the overstuffed drawer closed. It only made it halfway. “He’s a stuffed animal.”

“I know. That’s why he’s creepy. Why does anyone need to make something so realistic-looking as a stuffed toy? I don’t like it.” It was like some of the dolls his sisters had played with as kids. They were freakish in their attempt to look like real babies. It had disturbed him then, and it disturbed him now.

Shawn laughed. “Okay, then. I never would have guessed you had a secret fear of stuffed animals.”

“It’s not fear.” Why was she failing to see the distinction here? “It’s like seeing someone have their fingernails pulled out. It’s disturbing.”

“How would you know what it looks like to see someone’s fingernails pulled out? Do you have a secret past as a terrorist interrogator?”

She was lucky he found her so cute. “Yes. So don’t piss me off.”

“Did you just make a joke?” Her eyes lit up in delight, and she laughed. “I love it. And don’t threaten me, Ford. I’ll sic my monkey on you.”

He walked toward her and was amused to see her back up against the dresser, darting her gaze around for an escape route. “Gorillas aren’t monkeys, and who is threatening who?”

All he had to do was reach his arm out for her, and she shrieked and tried to rush past him. Laughing, he didn’t find it a particular challenge to halt her progress. Despite her athletic strength, he was happy to say she was no match for him. “Where are you going?”

“I have to, uh, put the grounds in the coffeemaker for tomorrow morning.” She wiggled in his hold. “Let me go, you oaf.”

“Oaf? Okay, Gran, I’ll let you go.” Rhett was amused by Shawn, by their banter, by how comfortable he felt around her. He was also aroused by the way she was willing to tease him, the way she didn’t cower and back down, the way other women had with him.

“Gran?” she asked indignantly. “Is that a cougar slur?”

“No.” He grinned at her, pulling her tight against his chest so she would quit squirming. “I actually forgot you’re a cougar. Though I’m not sure you qualify since I initially approached you.”

“Well, I did ask you to marry me in exchange for money, so I think that makes me a model cougar.” Her expression was wry, but she did stop struggling.

“For totally different reasons. Not because you couldn’t score me all on your own. Because you could have. I would have been eager and willing.” He leaned forward and bit her bottom lip, just to hear her expression of shock and the follow-up sigh of pleasure.

“Really?”

“Really. And I’m eager and willing right now to make you scream with pleasure.” Rhett rested his hand on her waist and pulled her hard against his erection. “Now you have four minutes to deal with the coffeemaker and get back here.”

Her eyes darkened and her voice was husky. “Oh, yeah? What happens if I don’t?”

“I’ll come into the kitchen and I’ll punish you for making me wait.” His heart started to pump quicker at the thought of what he could do to Shawn, at how amazing it would feel to bury his cock inside her wet and willing pussy. His blood thickened, and saliva filled his mouth.

“You’ll spank me again?” she asked, and she sounded titillated by the idea.

Rhett shook his head, because it was important to keep her guessing, to maintain the control. “Probably not. You’ll never know what your punishment is until I hand it out. It could be anything.”

Her response was a low sound in the back of her throat. But then she disarmed him by kissing him sweetly and saying, “My time starts when you let me go.”

Holy shit, she was so hot it made his body ache in ways he hadn’t known were possible. Rhett released her and stepped back. “Go.”

She moved quickly to the door, not pausing to look back. Rhett checked the time on his phone. He wasn’t sure if he would actually hold her to the four minutes or not. But he didn’t think he would have to make that decision because Shawn was too competitive to miss the mark.

Waiting for her, he stripped off his sweatshirt and the tee beneath it and tossed them over Coconut’s face. He took his watch off and set it on the nightstand. He knew a lot of guys had quit wearing watches, but he liked the feel of it on his wrist. But not when he was going to be sliding his hands over every inch of Shawn’s body. He was cracking his neck, taking his chin in both hands and twisting it left, then right, when Shawn returned.

“Are you limbering up?” she asked, with a small smile. She was slightly out of breath from her efficiency.

Rhett glanced at his phone. “Three minutes. Impressive.” He didn’t answer her question, because he didn’t need to. “Good job.”

“Thanks.” Her gaze raked over his chest, his abs. “Do I get a reward?”

He should have known she would take it to that conclusion. It was her personality. Shaking his head, he told her, “No. Your reward is not being punished.”

Her lips parted, her eyes flashing with something close to irritation, and he waited for her to protest. It would be logical for her to protest, given Shawn’s need for control.

But she didn’t, and that was by far the sexiest response she could ever give him. “So what should I do?” Her hands were fiddling with the bottom of her sweater, like she wanted to strip it off and dive onto him. It was there in her expression. She wanted to take charge, shove him back on the bed, and climb on and ride him to a fast orgasm.

Efficient.

Get off and get on with it.

That’s the sex life Shawn had experienced before him. But Rhett wanted more than that. He wanted submersion, loss of control, total capitulation to the pleasure between them . . . the kind of pleasure where she forgot her name, what day of the week it was, or where she was.

So the erotic dance had to start where it had the night they’d met, with his hand taking hers and guiding her onto the dance floor. “You dance with me.”

“There’s no music.”

He scrolled through his phone and hit play, taking a guess that babymaking R&B music could cause her to giggle. He went classic rock, and as The Doors filled the room, her eyebrows went up in surprise, and pleasure. He held out his hand and she took it, her head tilting in a way that almost read as shy as he pulled her into his arms. He suspected not a single man had ever truly taken the time to seduce Shawn, and he intended to make up for that.

As they swayed to the music, he nuzzled her ear and told her, “I’m very, very glad I saw you that night at The Wet Spot.”

Fingertips lightly on his shoulders, she whispered, “I am, too.”

Hooking his index finger on the collar of her sweater, he dragged it down so that her chest was partially exposed. He had the long, lean lines of her clavicle and the rise of her breasts to explore with his tongue while they moved to the music. Her grip on him tightened as he lazily explored her jawline, her neck, her breasts. She started to move her hands down his shoulders to his biceps, her fingers trembling, tentative, like she expected to be stopped any second. Or maybe because she’d never allowed herself the indulgence of touching a lover in curiosity. He didn’t know. But he did like it, did want her to express herself, take tactile pleasure for herself.

She seemed particularly fascinated by his abdominal muscles, brushing back and forth over them in a way that was causing him to count backward in his head to hold on to his control. She was inches above his waistband. And he was well aware of the fact that she hadn’t touched his cock yet. But he wasn’t going to allow it now.

He set her away from him. “Take off your sweater.”

Without hesitation, Shawn complied, though she looked disappointed to have her exploration interrupted. “Put your hands in your pockets,” he told her, wanting to heighten her arousal, to tease her.

Color rose in her cheeks and she looked on the verge of protesting, but instead, she dropped her sweater on the floor and slowly pushed her hands into the front pockets of her jeans, her tongue moistening her bottom lip. She seemed to recognize that sometimes initial denial created greater satisfaction in the end. That it felt good to play his game.

He wanted to heighten her anticipation until she was beside herself with want, until nothing would ever satisfy her until he pounded his cock inside her.

So he kissed her, a teasing slow kiss that he took his time with, his hand in her hair, his tongue stroking a response out of her. He liked the way their hips rested near each other, but not entirely touching. Likewise with her chest on his. Her bent elbows prevented them from coming completely in contact with each other.

“You’re such a good kisser,” he murmured, because she was. So many women wanted to press, then pull back, press, then pull back. They didn’t want to dig in to the kiss, to commit to it, to find that the tangle of tongues and breath and desire has its own appeal. Shawn opened herself to his kiss, and he appreciated that.

“Thank you,” she said, her lips shiny, eyes slumberous. “I don’t think anyone has ever told me that.”

“That’s because they were idiots. You make a man want to kiss you all night and then start again in the morning.” He did. He wanted to disappear inside her kiss, lose himself in her warmth, her taste, her willingness.

“Whatever you want,” she told him, the sincerity almost bringing him to his knees.

Shawn got what he craved. She understood it. That he didn’t want a woman to kowtow to him, to do what he wanted out of fear, that he wanted her to do it out of trust, out of the understanding that her surrender would bring them both more pleasure than they’d thought possible.

“There’s something really very perfect about you, Shawn.” He rubbed both her nipples to tight peaks with his thumbs, enjoying the dilation of her eyes and the lazy backward tilt of her head, her hips reaching for his. “I want you to know that there is nowhere I’d rather be than right here, right now.”

“I feel the same way. I didn’t expect to, but I do.”

“Good.” Rhett kissed her neck, the curve of her breast. He sucked at her nipples through the satin of her bra, first one, then the other. He trailed his tongue down her belly, dipping into the depression of her belly button, enjoying the little jerk she gave. Moving lower, he scraped his teeth on the fabric of her jeans, knowing she would want to grab his head, guide him to the perfect location. That she would want to thrust herself onto him.

The whimper she gave was evidence he was right. “Would you like to touch me?” he asked her, murmuring against her clitoris, his breath hot on her jeans.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“No,” he told her, pulling the zipper down and flicking his tongue inside.

This moan was more pronounced and she shifted on her feet.

She was wearing cotton panties, already damp with her arousal, and it was easy to soak the fabric with his tongue and wiggle his way to the swollen button. He popped the snap on her jeans so the waistband would slide farther apart, giving him more depth to his invasion, but still containing her hands in the pockets. Spurred on by the sounds she was making, which were growing increasingly desperate, Rhett peeled her panties down from the top and sucked on her clit.

Shawn let out a cry of ecstasy, which turned to despair as he snapped the panties back in place and stood back up. He took her hands out of her pockets. She watched him with hooded eyes, her breathing labored, cheeks and chest flushed pink. Keeping his gaze locked on hers, he undid the catch, then jerked her bra down her arms before moving behind her and tugging her wrists back toward him. He tied her hands together with the bra and let them rest on the curve of her ass.

When he shifted in front of her again, he asked in a tight voice, “Okay?” He didn’t want her to do anything she wasn’t comfortable with.

She nodded, swallowing hard. Her breasts were pert and tempting, her hair tumbling into her eyes, her lips slightly parted. Her jeans were sliding a little on her hips, giving him a tantalizing view of her stomach and hip bones. There was something demure, coy, about the tilt of her head, her gaze meeting his from under her lashes. Goose bumps raced across her arms.

He suddenly wanted to devour her. He wanted to eat and bite and lick every inch of her. He wanted to lose control and consume her with his lust, to take and tear them both apart with frantic passion. Knowing he couldn’t unleash the full force of his sexual need, he settled for biting her earlobe, his teeth sinking in deep enough that he heard her gasp in pain. He didn’t want to hurt her. It brought him back under control, just as he had known it would. He soothed his actions with soft kisses and murmured words of nothing, his fingers teasing into her panties, enjoying the warm, wet welcome he received when he drove two fingers deep inside her.

“Shh,” he said when she gave a whimper, her hands jerking instinctively against the restraints.

He swallowed any further protests with a kiss as he coaxed and teased pleasure from her, seeking her G-spot. When he found it, sliding across the sensitive spongy spot, she jerked again, her mouth breaking away from his, her forehead resting on his shoulder as she fought against an orgasm. He could feel her muscles straining, feel the tightness of her nipples against his chest, hear her ragged breathing. She had remembered to wait, and that gave him immense satisfaction.

“Do you need to come?” he murmured in her ear, enjoying the brush of her lips on his shoulder.

“No,” she whispered.

“Do you want to come?”

“Yes. And no.”

Holding the back of her head, he slowed down his stroking, not wanting her to tumble into an orgasm. “Which is it?”

“Of course I want to. But I also know it will feel good to be driven crazy.”

That was his girl. “Then we’ll go with door number two. Because Shawn, you’re right. It will feel good when I drive you crazy. You’re going to scream my name before we’re finished.”

And when she did, he had a feeling that for the first time ever, he wouldn’t despise the name he’d been given.