He rides the wave with me, only pulling back when I’m limp beneath him.
“I think you broke me.”
He grins, kissing my inner thigh and slowly making his way back up my body.
Sitting on his haunches, Rhett works his cock from base to tip. His hooded eyes smolder as he looks down at me.
“Are you on birth control?”
I bite my lower lip and shake my head.
“That’s okay.” Leaning across the bed, he grabs a condom from his wallet and slides it over his cock. Then he positions himself at my entrance. “Are you ready?” he asks, rubbing his cock along my slit.
“You cannot even imagine.”
Rhett lowers himself over me, his body pressing me against the mattress. With his hands cradling my face, he pushes inside, inch by inch, until by my body is stretched around him.
He blows out a harsh breath and buries his face in the crook of my neck. “So tight, Mo.”
I shift my hips, easing him out and then back in, and he presses his hips to mine, pinning me against the mattress.
“Give me a second, sweetheart, or I’m going to get off before we even get started.”
I run my fingers along his back from the base of his neck to his ass, exploring the tight ripple of muscles as he holds himself above me. A few seconds pass, and then he rocks his hips. I moan, loving the way our bodies fall into a familiar rhythm.
“Feels so good, Mo.”
I’ve waited for this moment for so long, thought about it for years, and now that we’re here, my words seem stuck in my throat. But that’s okay, because suddenly Rhett has enough for both of us.
“God, baby, I missed this so much. I missed you so much.”
“I missed you too.”
Our hips move together. His cock grows impossibly thick inside of me, creating a delicious friction, and when my body tightens for the second time, I dig my nails into Rhett’s scalp and guide his mouth to mine.
Our tongues duel, twisting and sliding, mimicking our bodies, and I unravel at a beautiful pace, with Rhett following shortly behind.
His muscles flex beneath my hands, his hips slamming into mine as he groans through his release. He slows to lazy movements, and it takes everything I have to keep my eyes open. But I do because I love the look on his face, and even more, I love knowing I put it there.
Monroe
The afternoon sun pours through the window, casting a blanket of warmth across my body. Rhett’s heart beats steady beneath my ear, which is pressed to his chest while my fingers draw slow, lazy circles over his abs.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks, running his fingers through my hair.
“I’m thinking your ab muscles are unreal. How does one even get this defined?”
“All I do is work. If I’m not at the arena, I’m at the gym.”
“Maybe you work too much. What do you do for fun these days?”
Rhett chuckles, kissing the top of my head. “I ride bulls.”
“That’s your job. What do you do for fun?”
“It’s not a job if it’s something you love.”
I look up at him.
“And you really want to lecture me on working too much?” he continues. “Pot meet kettle.”
“Touché.” I flop back on his chest, situating myself until I can hear his heartbeat again. Being close enough to feel his body against mine is a much-needed balm to my tattered soul. “I’m also wondering how pissed Claire is going to be.”
The last thing I want is to leave Rhett’s bed, but I should probably get home. With an exasperated sigh, I kiss his chest and push myself up. I don’t make it far before he pulls me back down.
“Why would Claire be pissed?”
I rest my chin on his chest. “She stayed with my dad so I could come see you.” I glance at the alarm clock on the nightstand. “And I’ve already been longer than I intended.” Not that she’ll mind, but I appreciate everything she’s already done for me, and I don’t want her to feel taken for granted.
“Mo.” Rhett’s eyes soften, and he cradles my head, his other hand settling at the small of my back. “I need you to know something; if I’d known you wanted me, needed me, I would’ve been here in a heartbeat, because I needed you just as bad. I didn’t move on. Nikki was a one-time thing.”
I flinch at the mention of her name, and Rhett brushes a strand of hair out of my face.
“She meant nothing to me.”
“I know,” I say softly. “But I hate myself for pushing you into her arms.”
“Don’t. Don’t shoulder all the blame. She took advantage of you. She played with your emotions. I can’t imagine how awful those weeks were for you. And I hate that you’ve struggled so much over the last six years, and I haven’t been here to help.” He sighs. “We’ve got a mountain of regrets and what-ifs between us, Mo, but if we’re going to move forward, we’ve got to start letting go of the past.”
Knowing he wants to move forward puts a smile on my face, but it quickly dies because… “I’m not sure how easy that’s going to be with her as your manager. A constant reminder day in and day out—”
“I fired her.”
My eyes widen. “You did?”
“Yes,” he breathes. “My lawyer is working on severing my contract with her family. I couldn’t stand to look at her after what she did. I swear to you, Mo, I never got one voicemail or message. Not one. If I had, you can bet your ass I would’ve been right here with you. I never would’ve let you go through all of that on your own.”
“I know.” Sliding my hands up his chest, I cradle his jaw. “I know you would’ve been here. I just don’t understand how she was able to intercept all those calls and messages. It doesn’t make sense.”
Rhett shakes his head and pushes himself up in the bed, bringing me with him.
“I know, but you have to understand that in the beginning, I was so busy—in and out of interviews and meetings, not to mention all the damn training I was doing. Bill and Nikki were around all the time those first few months, and she had access to my phone. I wasn’t allowed to take it in with me during interviews, and when I was training, it was always in my locker.”
“Which she could get to.”
He nods. “I will never forgive myself for not being here after your father’s stroke.”
“Don’t.” I press my cheek to the palm of his hand. “No more, okay? We let go of those regrets today.”
“Deal.” Rhett pulls me in close.
His warm, spicy scent wraps around me, and I hold on for dear life, because this is everything I needed and everything I missed.
“Maybe we should revisit the better parts of our past by taking a trip back in time,” he suggests.
“Oooh… I like where this is going. What are you thinking, Mr. Allen?”
“Mr. Allen. I like that. Let’s use it more often.”
I giggle when he grabs my ass.
“I’m going to my parents’ for dinner this week. Come with me. We can hop on the horses and take a ride down by the creek.”
“That sounds amazing, but I’ll have to find someone to stay with my dad.” I start scrolling through my head for possible contenders. I know Claire’s mom and her aunt would do it in a heartbeat, but they’re his full-time caregivers while I work, so I hate to ask them to put in more hours. And I could ask Claire, but—
“Bring him.”
“Really?”
“Yes.” Rhett laughs. “My parents would love to see him—I would love to see him.”
With a flutter in my chest, I return his smile. “Okay. Let me talk to him about it, and I’ll let you know.” I swing my legs over the edge of the bed, and Rhett moans.
“Do you have to go?”
My clothes are still damp from the rain as I slide them on, and when I slip my feet into my sandals, they make a squishy sound.
“I wish I didn’t.”
I lean across the bed to give him one more quick kiss, but he has other ideas.
His fingers slide into my hair, and he holds me in place. My lips part, and in a matter of seconds my body is at his mercy, fired up and ready to go.
“I have to leave.” I rest our foreheads together. “Thank you,” I whisper, my lips grazing his.
“For what?”
“For forgiving me. For coming home. For being you.”
“You’re welcome,” he says, kissing me between each response. “Let me get some clothes on, and I’ll walk you out.”
“No. Stay here. You look comfortable. I can let myself out.” I bend over to grab my phone—which somehow ended up on the floor—and Rhett growls.
“You’re teasing me.”
I shake my ass, and he growls again.
“You better get out of here before I drag you back to this bed.”
“We do have six years of make-up sex coming our way.”
He grins. “I like the way you think.”
“I’ll talk to you soon.” I press my lips to his one last time and walk out through Coop’s house. I reach for the handle at the same time the front door flies open.
Coop nearly rams into me, and then smiles like the Cheshire cat. “Hey, Mo.”
“Coop.” Cheeks flushed, I duck my head and try to step around him, only to have him step in front of me.
“Your shirt is on backwards.”
What? I reach for my neck and look down at my shirt. Liar. I scowl. “I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do. Now move so I can go.”
“Not until you tell me what you were doing here.”
“She was doing me, asshole.” Rhett’s voice, thick and warm, floats down the hall, and I turn around. He’s not wearing a shirt, and his body is a sight to behold. His broad chest tapers to a trim waist—his abs cut to perfection with that chiseled V everyone loves to dream about. His light gray sweats once again hang low on his hips, and his bare feet pad against the floor as he walks toward me.
What is it about a barefoot man that’s so damn sexy?
“You’re drooling,” Coop whispers.
I elbow him in the side, and he lets out a soft oomph.
“Your brother is harassing me,” I pout, reaching for Rhett because I can, and that’s a damn good feeling.
Coop smiles as Rhett pulls me against his chest. “About damn time.” He claps Rhett on the shoulder as he walks by. “But if I hear you two bumping uglies, I’ll send you back to Houston.”
Back to Houston.
Coop may as well have thrown a bucket of ice water in my face. What happens when Rhett goes back to Houston? Because he will inevitably go back. He has to. That’s where he trains. He has a house there, for crying out loud.
“I’ve gotta go.” I wave to Coop, kiss Rhett one last time, and walk out of the house.
I climb into my truck and drive home on autopilot, trying to figure out how all of this is going to work, how I’m going to fit into the equation. Do I fit into the equation? What is the equation? Rhett and I talked about moving forward, but I don’t know what’s going through his head. Does he mean while he’s here or long term, because there’s a huge difference, and I’m not sure how I feel about him going back and me staying here. We’ll be a couple of hours apart, which isn’t bad, but I won’t be able to commute to see him, not with taking care of Animal Haven and my dad.
The high I felt just minutes ago deflates, and by the time I pull into my driveway, I feel about the same as I did when I left—only with a tingle between my thighs, and I choose to focus on that for now.
It’s all I can do.
Monroe
“Hey, Ruby,” I say softly, running my hand down her back. Her chest moves up and down as she breathes, but Ruby makes no attempt to open her eyes and acknowledge me.
She’s sleeping more and more in her old age and I know my time with her is limited which is why I soak up as much of it as I can.
“I love you, sweet girl.” I place a kiss on top of her head, my lips lingering for a few extra beats before I pull back.
Ruby opens one eye and looks at me as though to say I love you too. Then she looks around the room, probably hoping to see Rhett.
“Sorry, Rhett left earlier for a physical therapy appointment.”
Rhett and I spent three hours on the phone last night after I left Coop’s house. Much to my surprise, he was once again waiting for me at Animal Haven when I arrived this morning. He had an easy smile on his face and I noticed that a lot of the tension I had been carrying around with me was gone.
My phone rings and I pull it out of my pocket and smile when I see Tess’s name. “Hey,” I say, answering my phone. “Are you ready to give the bird back?”
“Heck no. Simon is the best company I’ve kept in a long time. I was actually calling to tell you that I could come in tomorrow for a few hours and help if you’d like. I know I wasn’t on the schedule, but I had an appointment get cancelled and figured I could spend the extra time at Animal Haven.”
“I can always use the extra help.”
“Perfect. I have a few things to do in the morning and then I’ll be in.”
“You talk too much,” Simon says, his squawk piercing through the phone.
“Sorry about that,” Tess says. “He has a huge vocabulary. He also talks way too much and loves to play Simon Says.”
“Simon says, shut up!”
Tess growls. “No, Simon, I’m not playing with you right now.”
“Shut up!”
“Sometimes it gets a little annoying, but I’ve gotten used to it. His incessant chattering is better than silence… I think,” she says, ignoring Simon’s high-pitched voice in the background.
“Shut up!”
“Will he eventually stop telling you to shut up?” I ask, secretly thankful that she offered to foster the bird because there’s no doubt he would’ve driven the other animals here crazy—myself included.
“Oh yeah, when I get off the phone and actually play his little game.”
“Shut up!”
The phone muffles but I hear Tess talking to Simon. “Simon if you don’t stop telling me to shut up, I’m going to put a blanket over your cage and make you take a nap.”
“Ew!”
“That’s the only way to get him to stop.”
“Threaten him?” I ask.
“Pretty much. He hates taking naps,” she says, unapologetically.
“Nice. You’re learning fast.”
“I’m going to be the best darn cockatoo mom this world has ever seen. And now I have to go because Simon just fell off his swing.”
“Oh my gosh, is he—” Tess hangs up before I get a chance to finish asking if he’s okay, but a minute later she sends a text.
Turns out he knows how to play dead, too. Damn bird.
I smile and type out a quick reply. Want me to take him back?
Not a chance in hell.
Thank God.
After shoving my phone in my back pocket, I check on the other animals, saving Pickles for last. There’s just something about him… He’s special. Okay, they’re all special, but Pickles has a unique grip on my heart.
I open his cage and rather than waiting on me to come to him, this time Pickles comes to me and it’s a welcome surprise. There’s a purr thick in his throat as he rubs against my leg.
“Did you miss me, or are you just hoping for more Tuna? Because I’ll be honest, I think Rhett is onto something. You’re playing me,” I say, scooping the cat up.
Moving his head along my chin, Pickles continues to purr and I find his sweetness deceptive because I know he’s ornery as hell.
“I have paperwork to do and I could use some help if you’re up for the task.”
Pickles stares up at me lazily and blinks twice before closing his eyes, unaware that I’m about to give him another chance at becoming an Animal Haven regular.
“Your eyes might be closed, but I know you can hear me, so listen up. You’re going to sit with me while I go through some files
and you’re not going to pick on Ruby. Absolutely no growling, hissing, biting, or slapping. If I see any of the above you’re going right back to your cage. Got it?”
Instead of responding, he yawns. As gently as possible, I lower Pickles to a makeshift bed on the floor near my desk. He lays there for a minute and then gets up. Pickles inches his way around the room sniffing every nook and cranny before walking toward Ruby. He sniffs her tail and then works his way up her body. When his nose meets hers, he nuzzles her and I imagine he’s saying come on, girl, get up and bark at me, but Ruby doesn’t move.
Pickles kneads at the floor beside Ruby, turns in a circle, and curls up in a ball, his back resting against Ruby’s belly.
I knew it, Pickles. I knew you were a big softy. Welcome to family.
Relieved at how well that went, I turn my attention back to the task at hand.
A typical day’s work may begin with mucking stalls or cleaning out cages, but there’s so much more to running a shelter than caring for the animals. I have to keep track of each animal, updating their progress and social skills, and it’s imperative I keep their files up to date. On top of that, I keep track of vet appointments, foster applications, adoption applications and volunteer applications. It’s tedious work, but someone has to do it.
I’m an hour into my work with files spread out in front of me when Pickles pushes up on all fours and arches his back in a giant stretch. He meanders across the room, winds his way between my ankles a few times, and curls up in a ball at my feet.
“I knew you could listen if you wanted to,” I whisper, grabbing a tuna flavored treat from my pocket and handing it to him under the desk. “Good boy.”
My cell rings, but I let it go to voicemail because this work won’t do itself. A second later I get a notification for a voicemail and then the office phone rings and I pick it up.
Take Me To The Beach Page 12
