right where i want you
summary:Â "Standing there, staring at the cotton balls in the trash, some part deep inside of you decides that itâs now or never with Rhett."Â
rating:Â explicit (18+ mdni)
pairing:Â rhett abbott x f!reader
word count:Â 6.1k
warnings:Â sub!rhett, pseudo enemies-to-lovers!, mentions of violence, choking, dry humping, overstimulation, aftercare, potentially ooc, no use of y/n.Â
notes: uhhh walk him like a dog bitch walk him like a dogđŁđź i'm not even gonna lie to y'all i've never seen outer range but lewis pullman is in my brain. pls let me know what u think! thank you to @sebsxphia for encouraging my rhett brainworms and to @rhettabbotts for reading a snippet ! my other works are here
tagging: @lewmagoo @wkndwlff @bobfloyds @sometimesanalice @bradshawsbitch @roosterbruiser @withahappyrefrain @theharddeck - pls let me know if you'd like to be added or removed!
You work a comb in steady, circular motions over your horseâs coat, watching as the dust and pollen raises into the soft afternoon light. Just under the background noise of the stable, you hear boots crunching and you immediately know who it is. All your time away hasnât changed a thing, it seems.Â
âRhett Abbott you leave me alone or Iâll yell at the top of my lungs, I swear.â You donât even turn around to look at him, as if not making eye contact would mean heâll leave. He wonât. And he never does.
âHowâd âya know it was me?â You hear the way he kicks at the dirt of the barn floor with his boots absentmindedly, and you try to not let his presence rile you up too much since you know thatâs what he wants.
You still donât turn around to face him. âBecause yânever leave me alone.âÂ
âIâm jusâ sweet on âya. Couldnât help it if I tried. Besides, missed âya while âya were away at that fancy east coast school oâ yours.â
âWell, have you tried?â You ignore the second part of what he saidâyouâre back for the summer, and you really havenât been gone all that long even if your parents act like youâve come back from the dead.
That pulls a laugh from him.Â
For as long as you can remember, Rhett Abbott has been a pain in your ass. You were slightly younger than him but that somehow never stopped him from always finding a way to be in your presence. Your dad being Wabangâs sheriff didnât seem to deter him either, especially when your dad started getting real prickly about having boys around.Â
âNope,â He lets his lips pop dramatically on the âpâ sound, then pauses as if to consider his next words, âPlus, youâre real cute when youâre mad.â
All you want is to turn around and throw the rubber brush youâve got clenched in your fingers at his stupid, smug, face. You know the exact expression heâs wearing in that moment because itâs the same one heâs had every other time heâs taunted you.Â
âDecide if you love me or hate me, Rhett Abbott. Quit wastinâ my time.â You hiss, and this time you do turn around. You refrain from throwing anything at him, though.Â
âAw, donât get too upset now,â He pushes himself off the stall door heâd been leaning against and makes his way into your personal space.
You level him with a scathing glare before going back to grooming. Even the way he breathes around you seems to raise your hackles and you wonder if all this tension is ever going to resolve itself. If heâs ever going to leave you alone.
âI didnât come by to bother âya, honest.â He murmurs.
You donât grant him a response, but he stays where he is, undeterred.
âI wanted to see if youâd come out tonight, everyoneâs been missinâ âya. Whole townâs in uproar that youâre back.âÂ
âIâll think about it.â
That seems to satisfy him as a grin spreads across his face and he spins on his heel, whistling jauntily as he strolls out of the stable.
Youâre loathe to admit it, but it makes something twist in your stomach at the thought that Rhett came by to invite you out, to tell you he missed you. That everyone missed you. You shove that feeling down, though. Rhettâs always just been a nuisance and the fact that he seems to have gotten far handsomer while youâd been away is not part of your calculus.
-
For all his insistence that he actually likes you, has been thinking about you this whole time, Rhett sure is more than happy to let some buckle bunny cuddle up to him. You swallow something down, not jealousy, but what feels like a lump in your throat. Heâs a liar and youâre a fool. Rhett Abbott will never be anything but a good for nothing, sonofaâ
You storm out of the bar in a huff, not noticing the way Rhettâs eyes follow you over the head of the bleach blonde whoâs grasping the collar of his flannel.Â
In missing Rhettâs gaze, you also miss the way James Earl follows you out. By the time youâre in the parking lot, itâs too late to turn around. James is between you and the door.Â
He calls your name and it makes all the hair on the back of your neck stand up, âWait up!â
âLeave me alone, James.â You really donât want to deal with him right now, you donât want to deal with any men, for that matter.Â
âI said wait.â His voice turns acidic and you pause before turning around slowly. Thereâs nowhere else for you to go but back into the bar, and youâre certain he wonât just let you walk off while you try to call your dad.
âNow that youâre back, Iâm going to take you out to dinner.â James looks almost like he has good intentions, but you havenât lost touch with the way news travels in Wabang just because you were separated by a few states.Â
You know what the girls who stayed behind say about him. You heard the stories in high school about how he treated his girlfriendsâalways holding their arms too tight, a little too possessive. Thereâs nothing about him that you like, or even want to tolerate, at all.
âNo, thank you, James. I really should get going.â You try to sound sweet, try to turn on the charm in hopes that heâll change his mind.Â
You turn your phone over in your hands, unlock it, and try to act nonchalant. You remember the Swiss army knife tucked in your bra if things get rough.Â
His demeanor switches in an instant.
âYou think just âcause youâre the sheriff's daughter you can just walk around like you own this place, huh? Too good for us with your fancy college? All of Wabang swooninâ over a stuck up, prissy, little bitch.â The words are like poison, but you try to stand your ground, âWhy I oughtâa teach you a lesson.â
When James stalks your way, one hand starting to reach for you as you reel back in fear, you realize just what he intends. The world slows to a molasses, youâre outside your body as you freeze, unable to do much but witness what you know is about to happen to you.
Instead of Jamesâ hand around your wrist or in your hair, Rhettâs voice breaks the moment, âEarl, Iâll make âya sorry âya ever lookâd at âer if âya donât step away right now.âÂ
There he is, illuminated by the bar deck lights, one hand on his belt as he stalks into the parking lot. Youâd call him your savior if you donât blame him somehow; if he hadnât been so wrapped up in whatever girl was giving him attention in that moment maybe you wouldnât be here.Â
âLike hell you will, Abbott. Leave us alone, this is none of your business.â James whirls around, his attention momentarily off you.
You think you can make your escape, make it back inside the bar where there are more eyes and call your dad to get him to pick you up. Instead, you watch as Rhett and James come face to face, both acting like macho idiots.Â
They soil your plan for a hasty escape. Itâs Rhett who makes the first move and shoves James, hard. In a split second theyâre yelling obscenities at each other as Rhett grabs him by the collar to shake him and clock him across the face. His knuckles split open on Jamesâ face and you arenât sure if his nose is broken from the blow or not.Â
âStop it!â You try to at least get Rhettâs attention, maybe use his feelings for you for good, but it does little as James tries to gain the upper hand. âRhett Abbott you fool, get offâa him!â
All at once, a few other patrons spill out of the bar doors at the commotion. Youâre standing a few feet back from the pair as they tussle; thereâs blood strewn in the dirt and you hope not too much of it is Rhettâs. Suddenly theyâre being pulled apart.
You march up to James and stick a finger in his face as he struggles against the men holding his arms, âYou ever try that shit with me again Iâll make sure my daddy gives you exactly what you deserve.â
His face is twisted up in a snarl, and he looks like heâs considering spitting in your face, âStill hiding behind your daddy? Figures.â
Heâs hauled off in a moment before you can respond, no doubt to get cleaned up and have someone take a look at his nose. Maybe even to face your dad. You whirl around to start shouting at Rhett next, but heâs simply standing there, hands hanging loosely by his sides. No oneâs restraining him anymore, theyâre all dealing with James you guess, and you realize that itâs just the two of you in the parking lot at that point.Â
You make your decision in an instant, âGive me your keys.âÂ
You donât get closer to him, you just hold a hand out and look at him expectantly. Rhett doesnât move.Â
âRhett Abbott, you damned fool, give me your keys so I can take your stupid ass home.âÂ
He has the audacity to smile wolfishly at you, cheek bruising, and say lowly as he walks to you, âTryinâ to take me home, sugar?â
Snatching his keys from his fist, you turn around without responding. You donât check if heâs following you, some part of you knows you donât need to.Â
You climb into the drivers side of his truck and start it, only barely waiting for him to get in and buckle up. Switching it into gear, you start driving. Itâs deathly silent in the cab as you drive, ignoring far too many traffic laws along the way for someone who was raised by the sheriff. Rhett fidgets in his seat next to you.Â
As you weave down the back country roads to his place, you distantly recall the time during high school when heâd bought the truck. All week, girls had flocked to him, begging him to teach them to drive stick (they all already knew) or even just sit in the back. Trucks were a dime a dozen, but Rhett Abbottâs was special in the eyes of all the future buckle bunnies.Â
Youâd watched the chaos from afar until heâd lifted his gaze from the girl tugging at his flannel to look at you. Youâd looked away quickly, too embarrassed to be caught staring at him despite your continued insistence you didnât like him in the slightest and that he never crossed your mind.
He never did end up giving any of the girls a chance. He wouldnât even let them touch the keys.
Now here you are, driving his truck like itâs your own without a single complaint from him.Â
When you pull up to his house, you get out the same way youâd gotten inâwithout a word and barely waiting for him to catch up to you. Itâs almost instinctual, the way you grab the house key from next to the truck one, unlock the door and shove inside, only knowing that heâs inside too because of the way the door slides shut softly instead of slamming.Â
Once inside, you flick on the kitchen light and round on him, âNow whyâd âya have to go and start shit with James Earl, huh?â
Rhett looks like heâs just been scolded by his mother for leaving his socks on the floor at his ripe age, and he scoffs harshly. You donât miss the way his knuckles are split and crusted in blood. Thereâs a bruise blooming high on one of his cheeks.Â
âIâm the one startinâ shit? He was tryinâ somethinâ with you!â He takes a step toward you but you donât move, âEarlâs a piece of shit and he got what was cominâ to him. I donât regret a goddamn thing.â
âI had it handled.â Your defense is instinctualâknee jerk, evenâeveryone wants you to be fragile, to be something that needs protecting, and youâre sick of it.Â
âDid âya?â Youâre toe to toe now, and his shoulders are heaving. ââCause what I saw said somethinâ else.â
For a moment, you think he might kiss you. It takes all of your mental effort not to shove him and start shouting at him for how stupid he is, so instead you raise a single eyebrow and plaster on your most disapproving expression possible.Â
âIâm not arguinâ with you, Rhett Abbott. Get your damn first-aid kit and lemme clean âya up.âÂ
For once in his life, he listens to you. Eventually you find yourself kneeling in front of him as he sinks into the couch. Youâve turned on one of the living room lights, but thereâs still just barely enough light to make out the details of his face and the way he tore up his knuckles on James Earlâs nose and cheeks.Â
âNow keep beinâ all tough, I better not hear âya bitchinâ about the antiseptic hurtinâ.â You donât have it in you to actually hurt him though, so you keep the press of the rubbing alcohol-soaked cotton balls gentle.Â
He draws his shoulders up by his ears regardless, hissing lightly when it stings. Thankfully, only his pinky knuckle is actually split open on his right hand, so he wonât be entirely useless at work. His left hand is in worse shape, with three of his knuckles bubbling blood where he managed to cut them open. Both hands are bruised.
He doesnât comment on your position at his knees.Â
âEarlâs nose better be fuckinâ broken.â Rhett finally breaks the silence as you finish cleaning his hands.Â
You donât grant him with a response. Instead you stand to your full height and make your way to the kitchen to throw away the cotton balls now soaked with his blood. Standing there, staring at the cotton balls in the trash, some part deep inside of you decides that itâs now or never with Rhett.
When you return to him, he hasnât moved a muscle. He simply tips his head back to look at you. Slowly, you put one knee up on the couch next to his thighs, then the other, and all of a sudden youâre kneeling over his lap. The hem of your dress just barely brushes his jeans. He looks like heâs holding his breath and he barely exhales when you let your full weight rest on him.
âI need to make sure he didnât break yours.â Itâs a lame excuse and you both know it, but you know he wonât call you on it, not when your bare thighs are warm against his denim-clad ones.Â
He smells like outside, like the evening sun, and something that tickles your nose; itâs uniquely Rhett. Privately, you wonder if all his clothes smell like him, and if they carry that scent even when he hasnât worn them in a long while.Â
Shifting in his lap, you cradle his face and turn it toward the light. As if heâs trying not to spook a wild horse, he very delicately places his hands on your thighs. He doesnât grip them, doesnât let his fingertips twitch, just rests his calloused palms against your bare skin.
âLooks fine to me.â You breathe out, realizing how close your faces are.
âIâll pretend that was a compliment.â Heâs trying to sound flirtatious, trying to sound like the casanova his reputation makes him out to be, only heâs breathless and his face is flushed and you can feel his pulse racing.
You hate when men think they can just take control of you in bed because theyâre a man and youâre not. But with Rhett, you can tell youâve got him right where you want him by the way his Adam's apple bobs in his throat and the way his hands rest on your thighs, fingertips just barely brushing the hem of your dress.Â
Letting go of his face, you brush imaginary dust off his shoulders before letting one hand rest flat on his chest, and threading the other up into his hair. Itâs silkier than you ever imagined despite the way you know you can safely assume he does jack all to take care of it. Heâs so damn pretty it makes your chest ache.
Both of you are silent, only the sounds of your breathing barely audible. Ever so gently, you slide your hand from his hair to the base of his neck. Heâs like a foal in the way youâre unsure of how heâll react to your hand placement, a new sort of touch. His heart hammers in his chest beneath your palm.
He doesnât bolt or react strongly. Instead, he swallows thickly against your hand, blinking slowly at the sensation of your fingers tucked neatly around his throat. Youâre not squeezing in the slightest, just letting your fingers rest around the warm, tanned, skin of his neck.
âAre you going to behave, Rhett?â Your voice is low over the sounds of the night outside.
He nods as you flex your fingers gently, testing the waters, and his eyes flutter shut. Rocking your hips experimentally, you feel the way his grip tightens on your thighs and the way heâs hard against you.Â
He likes it. He likes the way youâve got a hand around his throat, the other resting gently on his chest. He isnât fighting you, he isnât arguingâfor once in his life, heâs quiet in your presence.Â
The realization of how obedient heâs being sends a skittering sort of arousal through you. You see yourself pulling on jeans tomorrow and finding his fingerprints on you. You see him staring at himself in the mirror in the morning, lost at how to cover up the evidence of what youâd done to him the night before.
âYouâve spent all this time pullinâ my pigtails, and now that Iâm here you canât even form words.â He keeps his eyes closed and nods ever so slightly.
You want to hate him.Â
Oh how you want to hate Rhett Abbott. You want to hate the way heâs spent the last however many years following you around like a stray dog, poking fun at you and riling you up, just to have your attention. You want to hate the way he probably spent more time chasing boys off than your dad did. More than anything else you want to find it in you to feel something other than the way heâs burrowed himself under your skin.Â
âWhatever,â His voice is strained and he clears his throat before opening his eyes again, âWhatever you want, sugar. Iâll do whatever you want.â
âAnd if I want to get up right now, and never see you again?â You arenât going to make this easy on him.Â
Yelling at James Earl is one thing, almost beating him to a pulp is another. You can protect yourself, youâre not a damsel in distress, and above all Rhett needs to learn his place. Youâre grateful he was there, you are. But you didnât need him to go and get in trouble on your behalf.
âNow, sugar, I find it hard to believeââ
You move as if to stand up, going to remove the hand from his neck to use one of his shoulders as leverage. Before you can get far, really even one inch away from him, one of his hands is flying from your thighs to clutch at the wrist of the hand thatâs leaving his throat. He holds you there, and you can feel the way his pulse is racing. He maintains the way he stares into your eyes, but this time his are wide, almost as if in fear that youâd actually get up and leave.Â
âTry again.â You donât change the way half your weight is off him, but you let him hold your wrist.
âWhatever you want, goes.â He swallows slowly before speaking again, âWill you justâWill you please sit back down?âÂ
He doesnât let go of your wrist.
You ease yourself back into his lap and run your free hand in between you till you reach his erection. It sends a thrill through you to feel just how excited he is by all of this. You want to hear him say please again, you want to see how far you can push your luck with him in the palm of your hand. You want him to beg.
You laugh lightly, if not a bit cruelly, as you squeeze his cock over his jeans, âDoes this turn you on, Rhett?â You pause to watch how his pupils dilate at your tone before pressing on, âNot much of a big, bad, man now, are âya?â
To your surprise, that doesnât set him off. Most men wouldnât let you put your hand around their throat, much less question just how much of a man they are. But he barely reacts beyond his chest rising and falling, his hands moving back to fully settle on your thighs and this time, gripping tightly.Â
âLike I said, whatever you want, sugarâI just want âya to use me. Be good for something,â He licks his lips and exhales shakily, âBe good for you.âÂ
Jesus. His sincerity bleeds through in the way his face is flushed and he maintains steady eye contact. He doesnât waver for a single moment.Â
Something sick twists in your chest. Never before has a man been so willing, so pliant, for you. Theyâve always tried to take what they want from you, always tried to make you submit. But what you actually wanted was this, Rhettâs eyes gazing pleadingly up at you while you sit in his lap.Â
âSo this is what you wanted all along, huh? Always following me around, playing pranks on me, just wanted me to get my hand around your throat and use you?â Youâre goading him on, trying to discern exactly what he wants you to say, what heâll let you get away with.Â
With that, you lean close as if to kiss him and he closes his eyes lightly in anticipation, but at the last second turn your head so you can drag the tip of your nose across his cheek. The shudder that runs through him at the feather-light sensation is delicious; it makes you laugh lightly at how affected he is. His breaths are starting to come heavier, already betraying him if he tried to hide how badly he wants this. But he isnât hiding, not in the slightest.
Now that youâre this close to him, the scent of him is overwhelming. It floods your mind and makes you almost lightheaded as you realize just how badly you want him. Part of it is that heâs so pliant, so willing, but the other part is the truth of the matter that you finally have to admit to yourself: you donât hate Rhett Abbott.Â
In fact, his whole years-long performance has only meant that his constant presence is lingering somewhere at the forefront of your mind regardless of whether heâs around or not. When youâd gone off to college, those nine months had been odd without him around. Youâd half expected him to show up to walk you between lecture halls or push some frat boy off you at a party.
(What you donât know is that Rhett did almost go out to visit you. Heâd looked at plane tickets, at how long it might take him to drive. He decided against it when he remembered every time youâd rejected him or told him to, very unkindly, âfuck offâ.)
âCan I kiss âya?â His voice is rough and he licks his lips again, like itâs a nervous habit.Â
You press a gentle kiss to his cheek and giggle softly to yourself when he whines and says, âThatâs not what I meant and yâknow it.â
Finally, you press your lips to his. Theyâre soft and warm and heâs so much better of a kisser than everyone else youâve been with that it almost knocks the wind out of you. But he keeps you grounded, especially when his hand moves up to your jaw so he can coax it open. The way he licks into your mouth makes you let out a startled gasp.Â
You donât expect it to feel so good. Itâs one thing to sit in his lap and flirt, itâs a whole other to taste him and understand why girls chase him endlessly. You canât stop the way your hips move against his and he keeps one hand on your thigh while the other goes to your tits. His hand dwarfs your chest and he gropes you haphazardly.Â
âFuck, youâre even better than I imagined,â He sighs, pushing up against the hand thatâs still around his throat.Â
âI havenât even taken my clothes off, Rhett.â You tease, wanting to see how far you can push him, see if you can still get a rise out of him.
But it seems heâs given up the fight now that youâre right where he wants you. He smiles gently as he pulls back to look you in the eyes, âI could finish in my pants like a damned teenager with you like this, sugar, doesnât matter.â
Rhett Abbott, womanizer, absolute menace in your life, admitting that heâs got it so bad for you that he could come in his pants just from having you near him? You couldâve guessed that he wanted to fuck you, but you always thought it would be more of him getting his rocks off and letting you fend for yourself. It never wouldâve occurred to you that this is how heâd be in the moment. Him admitting how weak he is for you makes your head spin.
You press yourself ever closer to him, licking into his mouth and trapping his hand between the two of you where it had been stroking your nipples through the thin fabric of your sundress. He manages to free it, though, and slides it down your side to where your thigh creases. He wraps it around you there and the the sheer size difference between his hand and your hip makes a twisted sort of want course in your veins.
The first press of his thumb against your clit through your panties sends a jolt through you. He keeps your hips moving in a steady rhythm against his as he works steady circles over your clit. His other hand wonât stay still as it runs up and down your back, rubs your nipples, yanks on the tips of your hair ever so slightly. Itâs mind-numbingly filthy, the quiet of his house filled with both of your gasps and moans, your hand still on his neck.Â
âCum for me, sugar,â Then, as if heâs anticipating your chastisement, he adds, âPlease.â
Your orgasm rips through you like white hot lighting as you gasp into his open mouth and he moans right along with you. You realize youâre chanting his name over and over like a prayer, completely unwittingly. He doesnât let up with any of his movements, prolonging your pleasure til it folds into something more biting, just on the edge of overstimulating.Â
âFuck, Jesus,â He gasps, and after a moment, âIâll be thinking âbout that til I die,â He rasps out, settling both of his hands on your hips and leaning his forehead against yours.Â
You want to tease him about taking the Lordâs name in vain but you hold back. For a moment, itâs quiet. Your hips are still against his as you take in what just happened. It begins to dawn on you that heâs still hard under you, but he isnât making any moves to change that.Â
He starts to shift under you like heâs considering standing up but you stop him by leaning into him.Â
âAh ah, Iâm not finished with you yet,â His eyes snap to yours in surprise.
âRhett Abbott. Tellinâ me I could make you cum in your pants like a teen boy?â You lean back ever so slightly with a light snarl on your face, finally tightening your fingers to a tight grip in a way that makes his eyes glaze over, âProve it.â
Pressing the heel of your palm into his crotch, you watch as he eyes scrunch shut and he grinds up once, twice, three times before a he releases a shaky exhale. You watch as he comes, as he pants and whines through his orgasm, the denim under your hand growing warm and wet. He doesnât stop grinding and thrusting up against your hand til it draws a pained moan from him.Â
âCan IâCan I keep going?â He tries to make eye contact but his eyes are too unfocused from pleasure, âLike it when it, ah, when it hurts.â
God, this is what youâve been missing out on the whole time? You let yourself rock steadily in his lap as he grinds up against your hand and leans forward to kiss you messily. You wonder if he let the other girls heâs been with do this to him. But something tells you that isnât the caseâyou really donât want it to be.
The whines and gasps heâs letting out as heâs writhing below you are something from your most far-fetched fantasies. Youâre only slightly stunned as you feel him get hard again below you, though it seems to draw out the pain more than the pleasure given the way his face twists up and the hiss he lets out. All at once he settles; and then he goes to lift your wrist away from his crotch.Â
Itâs terribly tender, the way he pulls away from you to press a kiss to the palm of your hand and smile widely at you. You almost get whiplash.
âWhat are you playinâ at?â You canât help but settle back into your old waysâthe Rhett Abbott youâve known for so long has only really been around to aggravate you, the heartfelt way heâs looking at you sets you off kilter.Â
When he laughs at the way youâre starting to get irritated, you try to pull your hand from his to no avail and it makes the heat rise in your face, âKnock it off, Rhett. Youâre beinâ an asshole.â
But he just keeps smiling at you as he pulls your other hand off his neck so that he can place both on his shoulders and cradle your face, âYouâre so beautiful.â
As if anticipating the way youâre going to react to his words, he pulls your face to his so that he can press your lips together once again. Itâs nothing like before. Before it was all tongue and your lips barely meeting through the gasps and moans being pulled out of you. This time itâs something so warm, so delicate, it makes your chest hurt in a different way.Â
âI hate you, Rhett Abbott,â You manage to gasp out once he pulls away fully, a sparkle in his eyes. It doesnât have any heat to it, lacks all the rage it used toâthis time, it just sounds like you might be trying to tell him you love him.Â
He ignores you in favor of standing with you still in his arms and declaring, âCome on, letâs go get cleaned up and go to bed.â
Somewhere between your orgasm and when he kissed you that final time, you think he mightâve figured it out tooâthat you donât hate him and maybe you never have. Because you let him carry you through his dark home without protest. You let him undress you wordlessly, without fanfare and without ogling your naked form. He simply drops your soiled clothing into a laundry hamper and starts undressing himself.
You watch him strip as he turns on the shower and gestures for you to follow him in when he steps in. For just a second you stare at him, halfway in and halfway out from under the stream of water, the way heâs staring at you expectantly.Â
He still has that bruise on his cheek from where James Earl hit him what feels like a lifetime ago. His knuckles are still split in some places, just turning that particular shade of red in others. Heâs a goddamn vision under the yellow and white fluorescent lights of his bathroom. It makes you want to hold your breath for fear that youâll disturb the moment somehow.
The shower proceeds without a hitch. Itâs oddly lacking sexual tension, though you notice that heâs still half hard. You have half a mind to sink to your knees and suck him off, just to prove your point, just to show him you mean business. But the way he gently washes you as if heâd done it a million times before stops you. You let him clean you up between your legs without a protest.
When he opens the bathroom cabinet to reveal various creams and lotions after youâve both stepped out and wrapped yourselves in towels, you feel yourself start to get angry. Is he seriously showing you all the products he buys for all the other girls he brings home?
Instead, he smiles sheepishly at you and rubs the back of his neck, âYou always smell so good, I spent ages tryinâ to figure out which one you were usinâ. Just bought all of âem at some point.â
You feel floored as the fight leaves your body. You donât have a way to be upset about that. Wordlessly, you pick up one of the bottles tucked in the second row and hand it to him.Â
âItâs this one.âÂ
The grin that spreads over his face is one of such genuine happiness it makes you want to squeal and run for the hills at the same time. You wonder distantly if heâll ever stop making you feel like thatâsimultaneously like a trapped animal and like youâre the only girl heâs ever seen. You wonder if this (thereâs a âthisâ?) will last long enough for you to find out.
He lends you one of his shirts and youâre pleased to find out that it does hold his smell. It sits long on you, settling around your knees, making you feel just a bit like a sexy ghost with the way it hugs your chest. He pulls on a pair of briefs before flicking off the overhead light and then throwing back the covers and patting the space next to him.
âYouâre a vision for a blind man, sugar,â His voice carries through the otherwise silent room, âNow come to bed.â
Itâs something out of a daydream, climbing into bed with Rhett Abbott. Youâre immediately enveloped in his scent, the way his arm lays heavy around your waist and pulls you close to him. For once, you donât fight him.
âYou okay there, sugar? Been awfully quiet.â His voice is low right next to your ear before he turns away momentarily to turn off the bedside table light. His arm is back around you in an instant.
Wiggling yourself around in his arms, you turn so that the two of you are nose to nose. He smiles that smile again, the one that fills you with warmth and makes your stomach twist. Thereâs barely enough light from outside to really see him as your eyes adjust to the dark, but you know his face.
âI donât think I hate you.âÂ
He starts laughing. It shakes his shoulders and makes the bed creak. His eyes screw up and you can feel the way his stomach moves against yours. You feel your shoulders go up by your ears and you try to pull away, embarrassed that heâs laughing.
âIâm sorry, sugar, câmere,â He tugs you even closer to him than before, if possible, âIâm not laughinâ at you, Iâm laughinâ only âcause I never hated you. I donât really think you hated me either.â
âHey!â Youâre indignant, âRhett Abbott, whoâre you to tell me how I feel?â
âAlright, alright, sugar, Iâll take âyer word for it. My heroics do it for âya?â You barely catch the way he winks at you in the dark, but it makes you want to bite him in retaliation.
âThe way you almost got the snot beat outta âya? Sure.â Scoffing, you turn yourself over so youâre facing away from him again, only you donât move out of his arms.Â
He huffs lightly in protest, but lets it go in favor of nuzzling into your hair and pressing his lips to the crown of your head. It sends a warm sort of heat through you. Youâre not ready to fully give in to him yet, but you think he might be growing on you. Youâll just have to see.
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