Page 21 of The Revenge Bride

“Touch that clit for me,” I say.

Lucy reaches between her legs and touches herself while I pound into her.

She utters a moan as she works the sensitive bud.

“Work that pleasure button, baby. Let me see your face when you come.”

“I’m going to…” she says raggedly.

I shoot my load into her as she comes, calling my name and begging me to fuck her harder. Fuck her forever.

I ride her until I’m empty and we’re both spent.

Then I carry her to my bed and hold her until we both drift off.

Chapter 7

Lucy

I slept harder than I have in months. My body is one giant ball of satisfaction. I’m so relaxed I feel boneless.

Rhett is still sleeping beside me. I scoot closer to him and trace his eyebrows with my fingertips. Then his sharp jawline. Finally, I touch his lips. The lips that brought me such pleasure yesterday.

It’s like I’m seeing him for the first time.

He makes a noise, then stretches. As he lowers his arms, he puts one of them under my shoulder and pulls me against his naked body. His eyes open and he smiles sleepily at me. “It’s a perfect morning waking up with you.”

That’s when I have a clarifying realization. I like this man. And I’m afraid. Afraid like will turn to love, and I’ll fall too hard and feel too much until it’s too late to protect myself from hurt.

The reminder flashes in my head. He’s not with me because he likes me. We have a mutually beneficial deal.

“Do you hate me?” I ask.

“No.”

“Is the reason for your no just because we had sex?”

He lifts himself up on one elbow and faces me. “I never truly hated you. I hated the way I felt about you. Hated wantingyou. Hated fantasizing about you. There were times when you irritated the hell out of me.”

“Same,” I admit. Did I confuse that for hate? Was he ever truly my enemy? “After all those rumors about the closet. I thought you were boasting about it.”

He shakes his head and rests a hand on my bare stomach. “I would never treat anyone that way. Especially you.”

“Everyone thought I blew you,” I grumble remembering how that humiliation followed me for the rest of that school year.

“Everyone thought I got blown,” he says. “So I was miserable too.”

I laugh at his teasing, then reach to touch his face. “I’m thinking you’re not such a bad guy.”

“I’m not. I’m good.Sogood.” He hesitates and the joking expression leaves his face. “My reputation was born from the need to protect myself. I don’t think my folks ever really wanted a kid. They dropped me off with my grandparents and never looked back. My mother had gardenias in the car that my father bought for her. I hate the smell of those flowers.”

His words run together like he’s saying them quickly in one breath to let the hurt escape all at once.

That explains why he always had such a cocky attitude from the moment I met him. He was pushing people away before they could do it to him.

“I hate the smell of vanilla,” I share. “That’s the scent of the candle that was burning when I walked in on Clyde cheating on me with his little goddess,” I mimic his term sarcastically. “He had the nerve to go around sayinghedumped me.”

“So then everyone felt sorry for you,” Rhett guesses.

---