Chapter 13 – Rhett #2
“Shit, Jael.” My eyes pop open as I stare at her mouth so full of me. And then she fucking hollows out her cheeks and swallows me with a gag. “Fuck,” I groan, my hands fly to her hair where I hold her for a second before I release and she pops off the top, taking in a deep breath through her nose.
“Whoa.”
“Hey, are you okay?” I ask, worried she can’t breathe.
She nods and smiles. “Yeah. Was that good?”
“A little too good. This might be a short lesson tonight.”
She grins but instead of going back in slowly, jerks my dick towards her again, opens her mouth wider and takes me all the way down to the root once more.
“Shit, just like that baby.”
She reaches up and grabs my hands, pushing them into her hair like she wants me to guide her while she does it. So, I do. I press only gently, allowing her to lead but giving a little extra pressure that matches her motions.
“Now you’re showing off,” I whisper as I look back up at the sky again, the moon, the stars, hell anything to try and slow this shit down because my balls are tingling, and the bottom of my spine is tight like I’m about to bust.
She must sense it because suddenly she picks up her pace, bobbing up and down, lips smacking, drool dropping from her lips onto her chin, and pumping her fist furiously and I can’t fucking handle it anymore. On the next thrust, my crown hits her throat, and she swallows me again.
“Shit,” I cuss and then bust with no warning, my cock kicks in her mouth and unloads. She takes it all as I watch. Sucking, swallowing, slurping and cleaning me up until my cock is dry and she’s smiling.
When she finishes, she wipes the back of her hand with her mouth and smiles up at me.
“So, how was that for my first time?”
I bend down to kiss her lips, not caring that the taste of me is still lingering there. “You know what, I think we need some more practice,” I say grinning.
◆◆◆
“Hey Rhett, you got a minute?” Lark asks, pulling me out of my completely inappropriate wet dream as he enters my office and holds out a printout of a work order that Florence must have just made for him.
It’s the morning after game night at Lark’s, and I’m currently sitting in the dark in my office, nursing a nasty hangover when I’d rather be back at my house, alone, underneath the covers, wallowing in self-pity over the chance I had with Jael and the stupid way that I blew it.
It's been a long time since I’ve been drunk enough to have a hangover the next day, and that’s saying a lot because I know my tolerance is strong.
However, after Jael stormed out of Lark’s house on Sunday night, I’d thrown all caution to the wind and taken three more shots back-to-back on top of the several that I’d had previously.
Couple that with all the Whitewood Creek Brewery beer that I'd drank during the wild game of UNO that we played, and I was ready to go find Jael, confess all my deep-rooted feelings and fears around her and tell her that I was sorry and can’t seem to exist without her.
Thankfully, Lainey stopped me before I could, reminding me that I was in no position to have a civilized conversation with her, something we both deserve to have when the time is right.
“Sure, what’s up, Lark?”
“Florence gave me this work order for a job at the courthouse, but I can’t tell what needs to be done and she's out at lunch. Can you pull it up on your computer? It looks like her printer ran out of ink mid-way through the printing.”
“Sure, what’s the number?”
Lark provides the work order number as I type it into the computer, and it returns the details. “Looks like the third-floor men’s bathroom at the courthouse has a nasty clog that’s extended down to the second floor.”
He nods. “Okay, got it.” He sketches some notes down on the sheet before tucking it into his back pocket.
“Thanks, man. I’m going to take one of the trucks and head over there to assess the situation.
It might take me a couple of hours before I can get started on it because I need to wrap up at Beverly’s house too. ”
“No problem,” I wave him out. “The notes say that the other stalls are still working so the situation should be contained.”
He turns to stand but then pauses before exiting.
His hand on the doorframe like he wants to talk, and I already know it’s going to be about Jael and what happened at his house last night.
Lark’s been a good friend over the years, but he didn’t grow up like Jael and I did, and he doesn’t know our complicated past. No one, does.
“Should I even ask about what happened between you and Jael last night?”
I shake my head. “Probably not.”
“Felt like old times for a minute there,” he says smiling. "You and Jael used to go at it like you were an old married couple. Always bitching at each other, doing shit to get under each other’s skin on purpose.”
That we did. Except back then I was teasing her because I liked her and didn’t know how to express it. Last night, I was pushing her away out of my own hurt and fear. Because out of everyone in this world, Jael’s probably the only person I’d let hurt me twice.
“Oh, I was meaning to ask you. Did you hear something about her going on a date with Owen last week?”
I sigh; word really travels too damn fast in this town and of course Jael’s return to Whitewood Creek would make the gossip mill spin.
Ever since Colt and Molly got together officially, the town’s been itching for some new drama to talk about.
If it isn’t them, it’s Lawson, my half-brother, marrying his employee Dani and now it sounds like it’s turning on Jael.
“Yeah, I think Owen took her out to a football game on Friday night. How’d you hear about it?”
He nods. “I was at the school this morning doing some routine maintenance and ran into Della. She asked me if I’d heard Jael was back in town, and I told her I saw her last night at my house for game night.
She asked if Owen was there too, and I said, 'Hell no, why would Owen be there? You know we don’t like that motherfucker. '”
I snort as he continues.
“Well, apparently, Owen told Della he and Jael were fucking again so she assumed he’d have tagged along.”
I freeze. “What?” I ask, my voice dropping a couple of octaves.
He waves his hand in the air. “You know how Della never liked Jael anyhow. Della and Owen were hooking up behind Jael’s back when Jael was dating him our senior year and she always though Owen still had a thing for her after they got married.
She’s probably lying but I thought you should know because I told Della that didn’t sound like something Jael would want to do, and she swore they went to the football game together on Friday, and then he fucked her at his house afterward.
Owen apparently called Della that night, drunk, asking to meet up. ”
My blood runs cold as I clench my fists under the desk, the tension in my arms a tight coil of anger I’m barely keeping in check.
I’m not an angry person by nature, but this feeling is one that only Jael can drag out of me. Fury that makes me want to drive my fist into the closest thing to me to get some relief. Fury that Jael can’t let Owen go.
Lark’s completely oblivious, unaware of the storm that’s brewing inside me, unaware of what happened between Jael and me in his basement last night or ten years ago.
I know I don’t have the right to care about what Jael and Owen did on their date last week, but damn it, the way Jael opened herself to me yesterday—asking me to fuck her like she wasn’t fragile, like she wasn’t torn up inside after being with him—it’s too damn personal. Too raw for my pride to swallow.
And then hearing that Owen’s been running his mouth all over town, spilling Jael’s business like he’s got some kind of claim to her again, well, that’s the final straw. It’s got me seeing nothing but red. It’s got me feeling those old, familiar emotions of wanting to protect her.
Jael isn’t mine to control. She can fuck whoever she wants. But Owen? He has no damn right to turn her private life into gossip.
And hearing this shit… it’s yanking me right back to being eighteen years old all over again.
**
“The vocational school has a lacrosse and a hockey team. I really think it’s worth checking out. You’d be an excellent addition. It’s a shame you didn’t want to take that scholarship to UNC,” my old lacrosse coach Brad says as he walks me across the field towards the high school's locker room.
Although school ended a few weeks ago, coach organized a pickup game for the seniors to play with the upcoming freshmen so that we can train them and show them the level that they’ll need to perform at this coming fall.
I know coach had been disappointed that I hadn’t taken the scholarship I'd earned from UNC, but school had never been my thing, and after talking with the advisors at the vocational school a few weeks ago, I’ve realized I can make a lucrative salary doing plumbing, something that I know will always be in demand in any city I choose to move to, though I can’t imagine ever leaving Whitewood Creek behind.
The truth is the only person I’d leave North Carolina for would be Jael.
“I’ll think about it, coach.”
He nods. “Well, whatever you decide, I’m proud of you, son. You’re going to go far with your work ethic and motivation. The sky’s the limit when you keep that.”
I shake his hand. “Thanks coach,” and then push open the door to the school’s locker room, ready to rinse off before meeting up with Jael later tonight for our date.
It’s been over a month now with her, and every day has only gotten better. I know I’m attached and going to miss her like hell when she leaves, but it’s no longer scary and maybe that’s because she’s always felt like mine and distance won’t change that for either of us.
“And then I, uh, uh, uh,” Owen says as he jumps onto the bench in the locker room and gyrates his hips up and down into the metal in a ridiculous, over the top humping demonstration.