Page 38 of Playing Dirty
But I didn’t.
Because I was scared of what it would mean. Scared he’d think I was easy, or lost, or desperate.
Yet I wasn’t any of those things.
I was just… tired of being untouched. Tired of playing the safe girl when my skin was begging to be wanted. I wasn’t ashamed of that anymore.
What I felt for Rhett wasn’t just desire—it was hunger. For connection. For honesty. For someone who didn’t need me to be smaller to love me.
And maybe it wasn’t too late to want that.
Even if I had no idea what to do with it now.
Thanks to the whiskey, the cabin felt warmer now, but a part of me still felt cold where it mattered.
I walked toward the bathroom, bare feet padding softly across the floor. The cold tiles bit at my soles, sending a jolt through me that I couldn’t shake.
I turned on the shower. Steam poured out, fogging the mirror in slow tendrils as I peeled off my clothes—one layer at a time. Not seductive. Just… deliberate.
My bra hit the floor. Then the panties.
Then there was nothing left but—me.
I stepped beneath the spray and let the heat scald away the chill. Water rolled over my breasts, down my belly, between my thighs. I closed my eyes and tilted my head back, letting the ache bloom in the quiet.
I ran my hands over my belly—slow at first, exploring places I hadn’t touched in too long. I let my fingers drift, remembering the way Rhett’s voice had dipped when he called me “darlin’,” the rasp of it like gravel and heat. I imagined his hands replacing mine—rough palms, steady fingers, coaxing, teasing, owning.
He’d say my name, low and thick, right before pressing me back against the tile.
And I’d let him.
I’d wrap my legs around his hips, dig my nails into his shoulders, lose myself in the way he’d take his time—not just to get me off, but to see me fall apart for him. But the edge wouldn't come no matter how much the water and my fingers stimulated my clit.
I pressed harder, circling faster, my other hand squeezing my breast, pinching my nipple until it bordered on pain. My legs trembled, muscles tightening as I chased the release that hovered just out of reach. I slipped two fingers inside, curling them upward, searching for that spot that usually sent me over, but tonight my body refused to surrender.
No matter how close I got, it wasn't enough. I could feel the pressure building, that delicious tension coiling tighter in my core, my inner walls clenching around my fingers. My breath came in ragged gasps that echoed off the tile as I leaned against the shower wall, water streaming between my breasts and down my stomach.
I spread my legs wider, angled my hips, desperately seeking that perfect friction. The familiar tingling started at the base of my spine, my toes curling against the slick floor—but then it plateaued, leaving me suspended in that maddening space between almost and not quite.
Frustrated, I shut off the water, grabbed a towel, and pressed it to my face like I could smother the hunger growing inside me. My body still throbbed, sensitive and swollen, aching for a release that wouldn't come from my own touch.
I needed something more—someone more. I needed hands larger than mine, rougher than mine. I needed Rhett's weight, his heat, his voice in my ear telling me exactly what he wanted to do to me.
Back in the bedroom, I opened the bottom dresser drawer and pushed past the socks, past the old sweatshirt, until my fingers brushed velvet.
I pulled the toy free, smirking in spite of myself.
Lonely wasn’t the same as powerless.
Sliding between the sheets, I let the cotton wrap around me, soft and clean. My body still pulsed from the shower, the whiskey, the memory of his eyes on mine.
I closed my eyes.
And let him in.
In my mind, Rhett didn’t hesitate. He knelt at the edge of the bed, hands on my knees, spreading me open like I was something precious he was about to ruin. His mouth trailed heat down my belly, his voice rough against my skin—praising, coaxing, promising.
My hand moved in rhythm with the picture I painted of him—his fingers wrapped around my wrists, his chest against my breasts, his breath hot and shaky in my ear.
