Page 28 of When You're Gone
Tori swooned slightly at his words. He really was the best friend.
“You two better make your Irish exit now. I’ll make sure everyone gets home safe, and I’ll lock up when they’re gone. I’ve only had one beer, so I’m not planning on staying.” Jake gave Rhett a pointed look.
Tori cocked her head in question, looking between Jake and Rhett as the two men had a silent conversation that went over her head. Rhett nodded once before reaching out and clapping Jake on the shoulder.
“Thanks, bro. We appreciate it. I’ll text you tomorrow.”
They hadn’t taken more than three steps toward the house when she heard Fielding holler from the front yard. “Victoria Thompson!”
Tori froze where she stood, but Rhett had a hand on her low back and kept urging her forward, balancing their cake plates in his other hand. She stalled and looked back at her husband, whose gaze was set forward, intentions clear. She continued to stare at him until he finally looked at her.
“Do you want to go upstairs now or not?”
She hesitated for just a moment, but it was long enough for him to notice.
“He’s fine. That’s why Jake’s not drinking tonight. He’ll make sure Haas gets home safe.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, her gratitude for both Rhett and Jake’s actions overwhelming all her senses. She exhaled and refocused on what she really wanted: her husband, in her arms, with his hands all over her body.
“I want to go upstairs with you. And I want you to feed me that cake,” she added mischievously, grabbing her husband’s hand and pulling him through the house behind her.
Chapter nine
Tori
Rhetthoundedherupthe stairs, her pulse quickening with each step. She didn’t even have the wherewithal to skip the squeaky step like usual, so the groan of the second-to-last stair from the landing caught her by surprise.
As soon as they stepped into his bedroom, he slammed the door shut and locked it for good measure. She backed up all the way to the bed, only stopping her retreat when the back of her knees hit the mattress. He paused where he stood, his back against the door, his eyes roaming up and down her body. He looked like a starving, desperate man who had finally stumbled on sustenance. He stalked toward her, his heated gaze setting her nerves on fire.
“You made me crazy out there tonight. You know that, right?”
Riling him up like that hadn’t been intentional. She had no idea Fielding was going to be in such rare form. But she didn’t exactly hate it when her husband got growly and possessive. He had been unreasonably gentle with her since her latest surgery, aside from their fun last night, which she had practically begged for. The promise of him owning her tonight sent tingles through her body.
“I would say I’m sorry, but I kinda like it when you’re worked up like this,” she admitted, biting her lower lip as he closed the space between them.
“V,” he groaned. “You’ve been torturing me with that pouty lip all night.” He set their cake plates down on the bed, then swiped his fingers through the frosting. He grasped her chin in his other hand, then painted the sweet cream on her lower lip. She stuck her tongue out to lick it, but he just gripped her face harder.
“Nuh-uh. That’s mine, and you said we’re not sharing.” He bowed low, sucking her lower lip between his teeth and licking her clean. He continued to run his tongue along her lips, dipping into her mouth so she could taste the sugary sweetness.
He reached forward again, but didn’t break their kiss, and brought another frosting-coated finger to her mouth, barely pulling back enough to slide it between her lips. She closed her mouth around it and bit down hard, eliciting a groan from him that sent tingles to her core. She released his finger from between her teeth and sucked to soothe the sting. He dragged his finger out of her mouth, past her lips, and down her chin, then smeared the last bit of frosting on her throat before quickly lapping it up with his tongue.
“So fucking sweet,” he murmured as he licked the column of her neck.
“Everhett…”
“I know what you want. I’ve got you, beautiful.”
The energy between them was so potent. It was the slideshow and the cake and the care he put into planning the party. It was the insatiable need to be connected to him after being apart for the last three weeks. It was that soul-deep yearning that she knew would never snuff out. Nothing had felt easy lately. She needed him to center her. She needed him to make her feel. She needed him in so many ways tonight.
The fire flared between them as she fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. The moment it was off, he was pulling off her sweater, her silly birthday tiara flying off her head in the process. He smoothed her hair back and tucked it behind her ears as she unbuckled his belt, unzipped his pants, and shoved them down his legs.
He kicked them off before sinking to his knees to peel her leggings down her thighs, planting frantic, hurried kisses on her skin. He took her panties off next, rising to his feet as he deftly started to unbutton the shirt she’d stolen from his closet. He paused when he was about halfway up her torso, stopping at the button right below her rib cage.
“On or off?”
Her hands rose to her chest on instinct, her heart hammering in the numb cavity of her torso. He noted her hesitation and responded without missing a beat.
“All these years together, and I don’t think I’ve ever fucked you with one of my button ups on… this is going to be so hot.”
