Waking the Lion

by Lacee Hightower

  “Get up, Rhett.” I’m screaming at the top of my lungs, my heart pounding as he slowly rises from the ice with the help of another player. Terrified that he’s seriously hurt, the crowd roars when he finally stands on his own while the ref breaks up the ongoing fight and sends them both to the penalty box. Everyone starts quieting down a little, and I yell as loudly as I can.

  “Way to go, Rhett.”

  Slow to move as he skates off the ice, he looks my direction for a quick second, flashing me a small smile that brings on a deep throb in my sex.

  “He just smiled at you, Kass.” Kim’s eyes are beaming. “You lucky fucking bitch.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Kass

  “Think long and hard, Kass. Rhett could take months to get through this. Maybe longer.”

  What am I supposed to do? I’m falling for Rhett Gentry. No … I’ve already fallen. So hard and deep, that I feel vulnerable to the point of feeling alone. Scared. Panicked. He would still be living life happily with his wife if circumstances were only different. Everything … the house, the furnishings, his heart …all belong to her in a sense. He feels something for me. I know he does. But what? That’s the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question.

  Was the smile tonight just for show again? More crowd-pleasing antics? My feelings a blur of emotion, regret hits me hard. I want to kick. Scream. Break a window. Feel his arms around me.

  I don’t know how to deal with this.

  Home for a good ninety minutes, shoving off the lingering ache between my thighs, I hoped I might hear from him and wished more than anything I was listening to the sound of his deep voice telling me we’d work through this somehow.

  But I crawl into bed heavy-hearted, knowing otherwise, wishing for sleep. Hoping to simply forget for a few hours. With my hand covering my mouth in an attempt to hold back emotion, I’m painfully aware of my growing feelings for a man who still belongs to someone else.

  Whatever we have, or had, was nothing but comfort for Rhett. Easing his losses. Aiding his hurt. Providing his sexual needs. Shoving his dick in another woman. The sad looks, the distant demeanor—they’d all been signs. This was everything my heart tried telling me. As I suck back tears, sobs suddenly win and overtake me as I cry into my pillow until finally, I drift off.

  I’ve no idea how long I’ve been asleep, but the ringing of my cell phone alarms me and I immediately think something’s wrong. Rhett streams across the screen, and I answer with a groggy “Hi.”

  “I want to stay home all day watching movies with you, Kassidy Johnson. I want to walk in the rain together. Slow dance underneath the stars. Eat buttery popcorn in a movie theater. My God, Kass…”

  He sighs deeply into the phone, and I return the gesture, caving in to my confusion.

  After a tense minute, I blurt, “And I don’t want a routine, conventional lover, Rhett Gentry. I’ve already had that.” Moisture pools at the corners of my eyes, and I swipe at the frustration, this sensual pull between us making me feel like I’m minutes away from losing my freaking mind. “I don’t want empty sex. I want … exhausted days at work from countless late nights watching movies. Making ridiculously unnecessary messes together in the kitchen. Making love until I’m drained with fatigue and pass out against my lover’s chest. I want a relationship that makes my spine tingle every time he looks in my eyes or brushes a finger over my cheek. And most importantly, I don’t want to share my man, Rhett. Even if it’s only in spirit.”

  “Christ,” he murmurs in a tone so sensual and unchaste that I can’t explain it. “I miss you like hell, Kass. I know this entire thing is twenty kinds of fucked up. Immoral in so many ways. But, I need to see you. I need my hands on you.”

  The urgency in his tone makes me ache between the legs. Aroused, I’m altogether ready to open my body back up to him, my fingers flexing with a deep desire to touch him. There’s a sound of desperation in his voice that makes me want to rush to his side, this need so intense that I can’t put words to it.

  Nonetheless, I counter with, “I’m busy, Rhett.”

  Because I still have the same gut instinct that he’s fighting his wife’s death. And my head continues telling me I could end up broken.

  “Kass,” he murmurs. “So, you can’t block out an hour or two after you get off to see me?”

  “I just … I’m not sure.” I hit “disconnect” on my phone and pull the comforter up over my shivering shoulders. I can’t hold back my feelings. I want all this. Him. And me. I want to stay home all day with Rhett. Slow dance and walk in the rain. I want everything with him a hundred times over. But I can’t justify the fact that he may still love his wife. This is something I have to figure out on my own. For now, I need to focus on me and my needs.

  How to get through another day without falling apart.

  ****

  I leave work earlier than anticipated, a cancellation freeing up the rest of my day. My mood all over the place, I walk out the salon door and cringe at the bright sunlight, reaching in my purse for my sunglasses. Since I got very little sleep last night after hanging up on Rhett, my eyes start watering from a combination of fatigue and the strikingly bright sun. The word fuck about to slip off my lips as I dig through my purse and realize I’ve left my sunglasses on the kitchen counter, I look up and see Rhett’s silver BMW beside my Camry. I stop in mid-step, surprised to say the least. When he steps from the car, my stomach drops, and I shudder. Tears threaten again as he lifts his sunglasses on top of his head and smiles. Full of heat, his stare is unrelenting, blazing like flames.

  “Come here, beautiful.” He reaches for my hair and pushes it behind my ear, pulling me into his arms where he kisses the top of my head.

  “How long have you been waiting?”

  “Too damn long,” he says, his lips still lingering.

  As always, my heart is two seconds from exploding. So relieved he’s here, all I can think is how much I love him. His hands are caressing my temples, his scent relaxing me. His lips feel like glue against my hair. When I pull back a little and look up into his eyes, he doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. His hair has a light coat of gel in the top and his facial hair has been neatly trimmed. He’s dressed in a gray suit that’s flawlessly tailored to his body with deep burgundy oxfords covering his feet. I can’t help myself. My hands reach out and slide down the sinewy muscle of his back, my blood warming with want. Lust overflows inside me, charring every negative thought from the day. He sighs and draws me closer where we stay for a long minute.

  “Let’s get out of here. Leave your car. If something happens to it, I’ll buy you another one.” He gives me a small smile and I shake my head, giving him an overstated eye roll.

  “Where are we going?” My thumb is still brushing against his silky suit jacket.

  He pulls his aviators from the top of his hair back down. “You’ll see. What time do you have to be at work tomorrow?” He opens the car door for me, his light teasing mood giving me a small sense of something. But what?

  “I have an early appointment at 9 AM. Tomorrow’s my long day. Why?”

  “Hush, sweetheart. Trust me.”

  I cringe at that word, though I say nothing.

  He slides in the car beside me, linking his fingers between mine and raising my wrist for a kiss. Right now, everything feels perfect. Like it should be between two lovers.

  But it’s not. Realization comes to me in heavy crushing droves.

  Nothing’s changed, and I hold back the tinge of emotion building in my chest. These deep feelings are grim and terrifying. My heart feels fragile. Will he stay beside me this time? Will he want more than one day?

  Can I stay in one piece if he doesn’t?

  A glimpse at my watch shows it’s just about 5 PM as we drive through heavy traffic down Central Expressway. “Gasoline” by Seether comes on the radio, and he turns it up loud and starts singing every word. With the music lightening the mood, I give him a small smirk and tease him about his singing.
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  “Might better stick to the ice and all those smokin’ hot magazine covers. Your singing leaves a lot to be desired.”

  His hand lifts to his heart. “Ouch. That stings. You sure know how to crush a man.” He grins, pulling into the AMC Theatre.

  “You said you wanted to go to work exhausted from watching late movies, so I figured this could be a start. Old marathons every single Wednesday night if you’re up for it, doll.” My mouth drops open, my eyes stinging with tears. “Then, after making you pass out from spine-tingling sex the rest of the night, I plan on getting you up so we can cook everything in my kitchen and make the biggest, most insane mess we can manage.”

  Unable to even speak, I try blinking back emotion as I think of the right words.

  Once we get tickets, hand in hand, we head to the concession stand where Rhett orders popcorn, two hotdogs, two large bottles of water, and after I drop a hint, a box of Sour Patch Kids. The young girls and one boy act like they’re serving royalty, while Rhett ignores the teenage girls’ smiles and only pays heed to me.

  Once we’re settled in the rented recliners, he reaches over and flips on the seat warmer. “Sour Patch Kids? Really, Kass? That’s close to being nauseating.”

  “What? Nauseating? Are you kidding me? Here. Try one. These things are amazing. Plus, I need the sugar to stay awake. Honestly, movies generally put me straight to sleep.” I lift his hand and pour a handful of the inverted/sour, sugar-induced chewy candies and watch him make the worst, most ridiculous squinting face I’ve ever seen in my life. I burst out laughing, and he joins me.

  “For a tough ice hockey player, you’re sure soft when it comes to something sour.”

  “Jesus fuck, Kass. How do you eat shit like that?” He swallows a deep drink of water. “And for the record, I’m far from soft, sweetheart.” He lifts my hand and brushes it over his impressive length. He’s smiling. So handsome. So young and carefree on the outside, when I know his thoughts never linger very far from his dire past.

  The first movie starts, and it’s the original Star Wars movie that first aired in 1977.

  “Oh, cool.” I grab Rhett’s hand and place it on my thigh.

  ****

  My head nestled deep against Rhett’s shoulder, we’re still holding hands and making out like crazy sixteen-year old teenagers after watching Star Wars, The Jungle Book, and Casablanca. The final movie for the night is The Wizard of Oz.

  “Wanna stay and watch the Tin Man?” Rhett leans over, giving me a long, soft kiss, the sound coming up his throat so sexy that it makes the hair on my neck stiffen. With nothing else but a subtle shake of my head while his lips are on me, I brush my hand above his belt and press slightly against his tight abs, feeling the bulge behind his pants thicken.

  I didn’t need to say anything else.

  We aren’t staying.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Kass

  It’s nearly midnight when we pull into Rhett’s garage, my heart still pounding at what this may or may not mean for us, if there’s in fact really an us. Knotted with ugly, strong cords of tension, my stomach feels queasy. But when we step through the door and I look into his beautiful eyes that I’ve grown to love, they’re radiating with passion and need, and I’m absolutely positively sure I’m in this for the long run. Unless he tells me to go, I’m here for as long as he wants me. However he wants me.

  He leans over and kisses me. His tongue strokes mine soft and deep, with perfect, sensual movements, bringing my body alive. Before my hands reach the hard curve of his ass, he breaks the kiss. With a strangled expression, he stares down at me for a good minute, maybe longer, before cupping my cheeks in his hand.

  “I missed you like hell, baby. I need you to know that.” Our eyes lock in a shared understanding, and just like that, he starts opening up, spilling his heart.

  “I care so much for you,” he says, running his finger under my bottom lip like he does so often. “And us. You’re beautiful. You’re sweet. Your smile is absolutely infectious.” He leans over and kisses my head, and his body shudders with a deep breath. “I know you have questions and doubt, and I hope like hell I can answer them all honestly without hurting you. But know this … I’ve fought and fought this feeling for months. Told myself a dozen times it was too soon and you deserved more, which you do.”

  “I understand, Rhett. You don’t need to explain any further.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong, Kass. I most definitely owe you an explanation.” His gaze stays glued on mine for long seconds. “I loved Lindy.”

  “I know,” I whisper.

  “I won’t deny that I was in love with my wife. That wouldn’t be fair to you … or her. I also feel responsible for her death. I’m struggling like hell with that in ways you couldn’t possibly understand.” His jaw clenches, and a cold chill runs down my spine.

  His forehead drops onto mine as he pulls me against him, closing the small space between us. His heart is racing and he blows out a long stream of air. “I don’t know how to do all this, Kass. I swore I wouldn’t, and honestly, I’m not sure if I’m even capable of being good for anyone right now. I’m pretty sure I’ll never want to marry again, and that could be an understandable issue for you, but I want you beside me. I want more nights like tonight.” He hesitates and swallows hard, while I fight tears from his admission. “All that said, I’ll completely understand if you choose to walk away for good this time.”

  He’ll never marry again.

  That thought stabs hard through my heart. I suddenly feel the need for a long cry. I think I love this man, and he’s not looking for anything permanent. Lindy was his one true love and he’s sworn off taking that step a second time. One side of me understands his perception—the fear, remorse, and terror of being hurt on that level. It makes me want to run before I fall even harder, but I can’t walk away. He means too much. I push my body closer, winding my arms around him tight, his erection soaring.

  “Listen,” he says with a stern tone. “This could get worse before it gets better. I have nightmares. My memory still isn’t where it needs to be. I need to see a therapist, Kass.” He slides his hands down my back, the warm look in his eyes robbing my breath.

  “I’m not walking,” I tell him. “I’m exactly where I want to be, Rhett. Nightmares or otherwise. And if you need to see someone professionally, then do it. I’m not going anywhere.”

  For what seems like a full minute, we just stand with our arms around each other as I study his face, the room tense with weighted stillness.

  “How in the hell could I possibly deserve someone like you, Kass?”

  His grip tightens around my waist, and a few more beats pass before he takes my hand between his, peering down at me. The blue of his eyes blazes like hot embers, churning passion and want. He leads us to the place I haven’t yet seen.

  His bedroom.

  With a quick spin of the knob, he opens the door and pulls me back against his body, taking my mouth hard, his hand sliding over my breast. I shiver and dust my tongue over his, equally urgent for something I feel may only be heedless sex in his mind.

  “Will you stay?”

  I study his expression for a few seconds. “Yes,” I whisper in his mouth, sending a message that’s so entirely reverse from how I truly feel. Random sex … comfort sex … meaningless sex. They’re all the same, have the same significance. It’s everything I don’t want with this man when I’m leading him to believe the opposite. As I catch a glimpse of a disturbing photo beside the bed, he doesn’t seem to notice when I cringe. He’s staring down at me, this silent energy between us filling the room with a thick, deep ferocity. His expression is speculating, seductive, and passionate, while I try to silence an upcoming sob and fight staring at the photo of Rhett and Lindy standing on a beach somewhere. Facing each other, their arms are wound around each other’s waists, their faces covered in love. When this has already become so much more for me, for Rhett, is it still just a way to mend his broken heart
? Fulfill his empty soul? Will there ever be anything more than a casual relationship? Will Rhett ever remember his wife’s killers? Will he ever find complete peace again? Love again? Will he ever put away the photo beside his bed?

  I swallow hard, so susceptible to this man, the aching loss I’ve felt the last few days growing into pure raw need and lust. Longing pulses deep down in my belly. I want him so badly. Yet, in all reality, I can’t have him. Not the part I want … his heart.

  The thought to walk away before I fall any deeper bites at me. “Maybe we should just talk, Rhett. Or better yet, maybe I should go for now.” I lift my gaze to look into his soft eyes, which are covered in tender affection.

  “No, baby,” he says, a catch in his low tone. “You couldn’t be more wrong. It feels like a fucking lifetime since I’ve touched you,” he murmurs against my mouth, sending yet more mixed signals. With his fingers suddenly twirling through my hair, he pushes me backwards, the door banging shut as I end up against the hard metal. His mouth ravages mine, his tongue deep inside, swirling over my gums and teeth as he drops a hand down my thigh and rubs between my legs before yanking down my leggings and panties and spinning me around so my face is against the door.

  “Rhett.” I whisper his name, wanting to say so much but knowing I can’t.

  His entire body is hard against me, his breath warm. A moan rumbles through his chest, and he drops to his knees behind me, his fingers easing against my skin as he takes both my legs between his palms and widens my stance. His warm tongue slides up my inner thigh until he reaches my clit, swollen and hard. A quick flicker of his tongue, that’s all it takes. I’m already close to falling apart.

  “You taste so damn good.” His face buried in my cleft, he moans over and over, gently licking and sucking until I’m nothing but a trembling, shaky mess, thrashing against his mouth. My body launches into an instant orgasm, and he eases up on my clit but pushes his tongue inside my sex. I’m still writhing, but his hands tug my body against him even tighter as he licks deep inside me, his small, approving groans bringing tears to the corners of my eyes.