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Her heart raced as she desperately waited for him to say something back, anything to confirm he knew she was only saying she enjoyed the sex and that he understood she wasn’t confessing love or anything so drastic.
His body shifted, and he gently transferred her to the pillows. “I’ll get that water.”
When he left the bed, it felt personal. An ache formed in her chest and part of her soul trembled as if about to cave in.
Aware of how overly delicate she suddenly seemed, she blamed it on too many hormones and the shaken effects of sex.
Don’t you dare cry…
Clarifying anything or mentioning what she’d just said would only make matters worse, so she swallowed back the lump of fear forming in her throat and suffered through the lonesome silence as she waited for him to return.
It was unbearable. She scrambled off the bed, her legs nearly buckling under her weight as the ache in her overused muscles screamed. She quickly scooped up her sister’s dress and draped it over the chair in the corner, sneaking into the bathroom to freshen up.
The bathroom lights were startlingly bright, casting her in an unflattering, clinical glow, and she winced. Her skin was rosy and whisker burned. Her makeup was smeared, making her eyes appear twice their usual size. And her hair was destroyed. No wonder he left her there.
She quickly washed her face and combed her fingers through her hair, pulling down the bun and making matters worse. Tangled hair framed her face in a wild cloud of auburn.
She tsked, unsure how to fix such a mess without fully showering. But that would be weird, wouldn’t it?
She heard a sound from the bedroom and did a three-sixty, searching for a towel or anything to cover nakedness. Why had she left the dress in the other room?
“Everything all right?”
“Everything’s fine!” She winced at the shrill sound of her voice. She needed to chill.
Staring at her reflection, she propped a fist on her hip and adjusted her posture. Women walked around naked in front of men they had sex with, right? She rolled her eyes, not satisfied with any posture she tried.
She could play a lot of roles, but sophisticated bed partner might not be one of them. Peeking out of the bathroom, she looked for any possible way of making it back into the bed unseen.
Rhett placed a glass of water on the nightstand and paused when he caught sight of her.
Her blush burned from her cheeks to her breasts to her other cheeks, too much of a novice to bear the walk of shame.
“You don’t have to be shy with me.”
“I know.” It was literally like the distance from the bathroom to the bed was growing. She typically wasn’t shy. But she was naked and, well, a bit frizzy and blotchy—not that she was complaining. “If you could just turn around for a second—
“Not a chance.” He crossed the floor and pulled her from behind the bathroom door then tipped up her chin, brushing a sensual kiss across her lips that quickly turned into more.
Her body unraveled and she leaned into him, never realizing kisses could be so sheltering. His reassurance was incredibly appreciated, bolstering her confidence and casting some of her doubts aside.
When he broke the kiss, she looked up at him and smiled. She’d been pretty good about denying her feelings up until now, but who was she kidding? He touched her and she turned into pudding.
“I got you water.”
She was no longer thirsty—or she was, but she didn’t want to break their stare because then he might look down and recall that she was naked.
Her hips shifted, casually stroking her body against his and his eyes darkened. “I think I like when you’re not a gentleman,” she confessed, and his nostrils flared. “Wow, you give great smolder.”
The hardness in his jaw and the intensity of his stare shifted with a burst of laughter. “Is that what I was giving?”
“Mm-hm.”
Everything about him seemed carved out of hard masculinity. He was an unmoving boulder, lodged in place by time, and she was a fleeting snowflake, tumbling recklessly down a knoll, collecting speed and rolling into an unstoppable avalanche.
She didn’t need experience to know he’d eventually hurt her. She didn’t need him to say a single word to predict that she would be the one to eventually say too much.
But she didn’t care. She wanted to be real with him. She wanted to be reckless. And, for once, she wanted to do something solely for herself without thinking of others.
No one knew what was going on between them. Rhett was her deepest, darkest secret. And she was feeling especially indulgent.
She followed all the rules, lived on the Nice List, and always did what was expected. Up until tonight, she never got into trouble or did anything worth keeping secret.
