Southern Playboy (North Carolina Highlands 4)

For half a heartbeat, I consider backing down. A familiar refrain darts through my head: I’m asking too much. I’m being a pain in the ass. Why can’t I just be grateful for what he’s offering? Who do I think I am to deserve more?

But then I think about my mom, and I think about Rose, and I stand my ground. Losing Rhett is preferable to losing myself. I think.

I know.

My pulse thunders as I wait for Rhett to say something. Instead, he rolls onto his back and runs a hand over his face.

“I am in love with you,” he says hoarsely, not looking at me. “I’m trying here, Amelia. You think I planned this? I didn’t want to make a mess.”

My throat thickens. “It doesn’t have to be a mess.”

He turns his head and looks at me. “I need time, honey.”

“Time’s either going to make this much better or much worse.”

“So take a gamble with me and bet on it getting better.” He reaches down and grabs my hand. Brings it to his mouth and brushes his lips over my knuckles. “Give me a week to get my head straight, all right? The kind of—the decision you’re asking me to make requires a significant change that doesn’t happen overnight. And you’re gonna have to bend too, A.”

I swallow. “I know. And I will. It’s just hard for me. I want to let go and let this road take me where it’s going to take me. But I can’t see what that destination looks like. I can’t envision it, what me going to Vegas with you and Liam would look like, and that scares me. Do I teach there? Can I teach there? Do I do something completely different? I’d be dependent on you, at least at first, and I’ve worked too hard to end up—”

“An athlete’s girlfriend?” he says, smiling tightly.

A spark of anger ignites in my gut. I do my best to ignore it. “Lost. I’ve worked too hard to end up lost.”

His Adam’s apple bobs. He runs a hand over his face again. “A week, A. Give me that. If I don’t have my shit together by then, you’re free to go. I just—I need you. We need you. Please.”

So much can happen in a week. I know that now. If he decides he’s going to take the extension—if he chooses his work over his family, because that’s what it comes down to—I’ll be left with nothing. No job, no future, no family. Liam, too, stands to lose. He’ll get over me not being around. But combine that with the fact that Rhett isn’t going to be around all that much either during the season, and it’ll be a double whammy.

But if Rhett chooses us?

I get everything I’ve ever wanted. And that’s a gamble I’m willing to take.

It’s quiet. Dark.

But I’m awake, thinking. My mind won’t stop spinning, and I’m in need of relief.

I need a little comfort.

I put a hand on Rhett’s stomach. He still sleeps on his back, one arm bent behind his head, one leg bent at the knee, which brushes against my leg beneath the covers.

He stirs but doesn’t open his eyes. “A?” His voice is rough with sleep. “You all right?”

I walk my fingers lower. He chuckles, a low, throaty sound of consent, and I wrap my hand around his dick. He’s hard, and he fills my hand. Heat and girth.

My pussy clenches.

Rhett’s hand lands heavily on the bedside table. He rummages around for a minute, knocking something—his phone, probably—to the floor. Wordlessly he hands me a condom.

I roll it on, then give his balls a gentle squeeze as my eyes adjust to the darkness. His breath comes out on a grunt, and he grabs my thigh, hiking it over his hip. I climb on top of him, straddling his torso, and his hands move to my hips.

“Stay up,” he says, and then he scoots down a little. Just enough so that my knees meet with his armpits. He lifts his arms and guides my hips forward, and now his face is squarely between my legs. “Now lean forward and put your hands on—yes, perfect, just like that.”

I’ve got the headboard in a death grip, hot anticipation streaming through my veins as I look down and watch him lower my pelvis onto his face, my knees gliding apart on the sheets.

I’m spread open, pulsing, and when his mouth meets with my center, I melt.

I melt against his tongue. His scruff catches on the inside of my thighs as he laps at me, tongue flat and warm and firm, and I gently rock my hips to aid the motion, my legs already shaking.

Rhett sucks on my clit. Reaches up to play with my breast, plucking the nipple between his thumb and first finger. I throw my head back and smile into the darkness.