Chapter 48
CLEMENTINE
After Rocco brought us a complimentary limoncello and we’d lingered over our wine for as long as we could justify, Rhett walked me out into the cool New York evening.
The city felt different tonight, more vibrant, more alive.
Or maybe that was just me, buzzing with happiness and wine and the intoxicating reality that this incredible man was actually mine.
“So,” he said, stopping on the sidewalk and turning to face me. “I have a confession to make.”
My heart skipped. “What kind of confession?”
“The kind where I admit I’ve been thinking about taking you back to my place all evening, but I don’t want you to think that’s all this is about.”
I stepped closer to him, my hands finding the lapels of his coat. “And what if I told you I’ve been thinking the same thing?”
His eyes darkened. “Then I would say we’re on the same page.”
“Good,” I whispered, standing on my tiptoes to brush my lips against his. “Because I’m not ready for this night to end.”
The ride to his apartment was charged with anticipation. We sat close together in the back of the limo, his hand resting on my thigh, my fingers tracing patterns on his palm. Every touch felt electric.
When we pulled up to his building, I couldn’t help but let out a low whistle. The glass and steel tower stretched up into the night sky, all modern lines and expensive-looking architecture.
“This is where you live?” I asked as he helped me out of the car.
“Home sweet home,” he said, though something in his tone suggested he didn’t entirely mean it.
The lobby was all marble and gold, with a doorman who greeted Rhett by name. We rode the elevator to the thirty-second floor. I always suspected he would be a penthouse guy.
I wondered just how attached to that idea he was. I wanted a home. A backyard and flowerbeds.
His apartment was stunning but completely sterile.
Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a breathtaking view of the city lights.
The furniture was all sleek lines and neutral colors, grays and blacks and whites that would look great in a doctor’s waiting room.
Everything was perfectly placed, professionally designed, and utterly lacking in personality.
“Wow,” I said, trying to keep the surprise out of my voice. “It’s beautiful.”
“You hate it,” he said, reading my expression correctly.
“I don’t hate it,” I said quickly. “It’s gorgeous. Very sophisticated.”
“But?”
“But it’s like a stranger lives here.” I turned to look at him, noting the way he was studying my reaction. “It doesn’t feel like you.”
“No,” he agreed. “It doesn’t. I bought it furnished from the previous owner. Some tech mogul who was relocating to Silicon Valley. I’ve been living here for three years and I’ve never changed a single thing.”
That explained a lot. I walked over to the massive windows, taking in the view of the city spread out below us. “Why not?”
“I don’t know,” he said, coming up behind me. “Maybe because I didn’t think it mattered. I’m barely here anyway. I practically live at the restaurant. This was just a place to sleep.”
“And now?”
His arms came around me from behind, pulling me back against his chest. “Now I’m thinking maybe it’s time to make it feel more like home.”
I leaned into him, feeling the solid warmth of his body against my back. “I could help with that, if you want. I have opinions about throw pillows. And plants. Candles.”
“I’m sure you do,” he said, pressing a kiss to my neck that made me shiver. “But right now, I’m more interested in your opinion on the bedroom.”
I turned in his arms, meeting his dark gaze. “Lead the way.”
The bedroom was more of the same, sleek, expensive, impersonal. But I barely noticed the décor because Rhett was looking at me like I was the most precious thing he had ever seen.
“I’m not letting you go again,” he murmured. The back of his hand traced down my cheek. “You’re going to have to accept that. Are you sure you’re okay with that?”
“I’m sure,” I whispered, and I meant it. Whatever happened next, whatever challenges we would face, I wanted this. I wanted him. “I love you, Rhett.”
“I love you too,” he said, and then he was kissing me with a tenderness that made my knees weak.
This was different from our desperate encounter in the hotel room or in his limo. This was slow, deliberate, full of promise. His hands moved over me with reverence. When he lifted my sweater over my head, his eyes never left mine.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured against my skin as his lips traced a path down my throat. “I can’t believe you’re mine.”
“I’m yours,” I confirmed, my fingers tugging at the hem of his sweater. “Completely yours.”
We undressed each other slowly, savoring each revealed inch of skin. He laid me down on his bed. The city lights streaming through the windows cast everything in a soft, ethereal glow. He positioned himself above me, his dark eyes drinking me in like I was something sacred.
“I want to worship every inch of you,” he said, his voice rough with desire. “I want to memorize you.”
His lips started at my forehead, pressing soft kisses there before moving to my eyelids, my cheeks, the tip of my nose. He was taking his time, as if we had all night, which we did. The thought sent a thrill through me. We could do this every night.
For the rest of our lives, if we wanted.
His mouth found mine again, and I melted into the kiss, my hands tangling in his dark hair. But he didn’t linger there long. He had a mission, and I was helpless to do anything but surrender to it.
He traced a path down my throat with his tongue, finding that sensitive spot where my pulse was hammering. I arched beneath him, already breathless, but he just smiled against my skin and continued his journey south.
“So responsive,” he whispered, his hands skimming over my ribs. “I love watching you fall apart for me.”
His mouth found my collarbone, then the swell of my breast. When he took my nipple between his lips, I cried out, my back bowing off the mattress. He lavished attention on one breast, then the other, until I was writhing beneath him.
“Rhett,” I gasped, but he just hummed against my skin and kept moving lower.
He kissed his way down my stomach, his hands stroking my sides. Every touch sent electricity shooting through me. By the time he reached the inside of my thighs, I was trembling with need.
“Please,” I whispered, begging him to set me ablaze.
He looked up at me then, his eyes dark with want. “I’ve got you, baby. Let me take care of you.”
When his mouth finally found me where I needed him most, I nearly came apart immediately. He was thorough, relentless, using his tongue and lips to drive me higher and higher until I was sobbing his name and clutching at the sheets.
The first orgasm crashed over me like a wave, leaving me gasping and shaking. But he didn’t stop. He gentled his touch but kept going, building me up again with patient determination.
“I can’t,” I protested weakly, but my body was already responding to him again.
“Yes, you can,” he said against me, his voice vibrating through my core. “Give me another one, Clem. I want to feel you fall apart for me again.”
The second time was even more intense, a slow burn that built and built until I was sure I might die from the pleasure of it, white hot and scorching. When I finally came down from the high, I was limp and boneless. Tears of satisfaction streamed down my cheeks.
Rhett kissed his way back up my body, his lips gentle on my oversensitive skin. When he reached my mouth, I could taste myself on his lips. It sent another spark of desire through me, despite my exhaustion.
“You’re incredible,” he murmured against my lips. “So beautiful when you let go like that.”
I pulled him down for a deeper kiss, pouring all my love and gratitude into it. I could feel how hard he was against my thigh, how much restraint he was showing.
“I need you,” I whispered against his mouth. “Please, Rhett. I need you inside me.”
His control finally snapped. He reached for protection from his nightstand, his hands shaking slightly as he prepared himself. Then he was positioning himself at my entrance, his eyes locked on mine.
“I love you,” he said as he slowly pushed inside me. “God, Clem, I love you so much.”
“I love you too,” I managed to say, overwhelmed by the feeling of him filling me completely.
He moved slowly at first, letting me adjust, but I could feel the tension in his shoulders, the way he was holding himself back. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper.
“Don’t hold back,” I whispered. “I want all of you.”
That was all the permission he needed. He began to move with purpose, setting a rhythm that had us both rocketing toward release. Every thrust sent pleasure shooting through me, building on the aftershocks of my earlier orgasms.
“You feel so good,” he groaned against my neck. “So perfect. Mine.”
“Yours,” I agreed breathlessly. “Always yours.”
We moved together like we’d been doing this for years instead of only a couple of times. He seemed to know exactly what I needed, adjusting his angle until I was seeing stars again.
When my third orgasm hit, it took him with me. He buried his face in my neck, my name falling from his lips as he found his own release.
Afterward, we lay tangled together, both of us breathing hard. He pulled me close, my head on his chest so I could hear his heartbeat slowly returning to normal.
“That was…” I started, then trailed off, not sure how to finish.
“Perfect,” he supplied, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “You’re perfect.”
I tilted my head to look at him, noting the soft expression on his usually guarded face. This was Rhett completely vulnerable and open in a way I’d never seen before.
“I don’t want to go home tonight,” I admitted.
“Then don’t,” he said simply. “Stay. Stay forever if you want.”
I laughed softly. “Maybe we ease into that.”
“I’ll wait. I just want you here with me.”
I settled back against his chest, feeling more content than I had in weeks. Tomorrow we would visit his father, and who knew what challenges that would bring? But right now, in this moment, everything was perfect.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I promised him, and I meant it with every fiber of my being.
“Even when I’m difficult? Because I will be, Clem. I’m going to mess up sometimes. I’m going to let my past get in the way, or my temper, or my stubborn pride.”
I lifted my head to look at him. “Then I’ll call you on it. And you’ll apologize. And we’ll figure it out together. That’s what people who love each other do.”
He was quiet for a long moment. I could see him processing that concept, the idea that love wasn’t perfect, but it could be permanent if both people were willing to work for it.
“I’ve never had that before,” he said finally. “Someone who was willing to stick around through the difficult parts.”
“Well, you have it now,” I said firmly. “Whether you like it or not.”
A slow smile spread across his face. “I like it. I like it a lot.”
“Rhett?” I said sleepily.
“Mmm?”
“Tomorrow, after we visit your father, can we go shopping for some throw pillows?”
His chest rumbled with quiet laughter. “Absolutely. As many throw pillows as you want.”
“And maybe some actual books for those empty bookshelves?”
“Whatever makes you happy.”
I smiled against his skin. “You make me happy.”
“Good,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “Because you make me happy too. Happier than I ever thought possible.” He paused. “Just don’t let the world know. I have a reputation to maintain.”
We laughed and, eventually, fell asleep in each other’s arms.