Page 115 of Falling for the Grumpy Bad Boy

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CLEMENTINE

The moment our lips met, I completely fell apart.

All the control I’d been clinging to was gone. The professional distance I had tried to maintain crumbled the second Rhett kissed me. I was crying before I even realized it, tears streaming down my face as I kissed him back like my life depended on it.

“I’m sorry,” I sobbed against his mouth. “I’m so sorry, Rhett.”

“Shh,” he whispered, pulling me closer, his hands gentle in my hair. “Don’t apologize. Not for this.”

But I couldn’t stop crying, couldn’t stop the flood of emotion that had been building for days. “I wanted to fight for this. I wanted to be brave enough to choose you.”

“I know,” he said, and his voice was rough with his own emotion. “I know you did.”

I felt like I was breaking into a million pieces. I buried my face in his neck, breathing in his familiar scent.

“I’ve never felt like this before,” I whispered. “About anyone.”

“Neither have I,” he admitted, his lips pressing against my temple. “You scare the hell out of me, Clementine.”

“Good scary or bad scary?”

“The kind of scary that makes you want to be better than you are.”

I pulled back to look at him. I could see the emotion in his eyes. This strong, controlled man was as broken as I was.

“What if we’re making a mistake?” I asked. “What if we could figure this out together?”

For a moment, hope flickered in his expression. Then reality crashed back over both of us.

“Your family⁠—”

“My family would understand if I explained.”

“The sponsors⁠—”

“We could find new sponsors.”

“Clem.” He cupped my face in his hands, thumbs brushing away my tears. “You know it’s not that simple.”

“It could be,” I said desperately. “If we just tried⁠—”

He kissed me again, cutting off my words. When his lips crashed against mine, I could feel his desperation.

His hands moved to the hem of my yellow top. I lifted my arms to help him pull it over my head. The cool air of the limo hit my skin, but his touch burned hot against me.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice reverent as his eyes traveled over me. “I want to remember every inch of you.”

I reached for his sweater, my fingers trembling as I pulled it over his head. The sight of his lean chest, those tattoos I’d traced before, made my breath catch. I pressed my palms against his skin, feeling his heart hammering.

“I love touching you,” I admitted, my voice barely audible.

He groaned and captured my mouth again, his kiss fierce and claiming. I could feel how much he wanted me in the desperate way his hands roamed my body.

My hands moved to his belt, fumbling with the buckle until he helped me. He lifted his body with me on top of him while I pushed his pants down, freeing that beautiful erection. When I wrapped my hand around him, he threw his head back against the leather seat, a low curse escaping his lips.

“Clem,” he breathed.