Chapter 40
CLEMENTINE
The moment our lips met, I completely fell apart.
All the control I’d been clinging to was gone. The professional distance I had tried to maintain crumbled the second Rhett kissed me. I was crying before I even realized it, tears streaming down my face as I kissed him back like my life depended on it.
“I’m sorry,” I sobbed against his mouth. “I’m so sorry, Rhett.”
“Shh,” he whispered, pulling me closer, his hands gentle in my hair. “Don’t apologize. Not for this.”
But I couldn’t stop crying, couldn’t stop the flood of emotion that had been building for days. “I wanted to fight for this. I wanted to be brave enough to choose you.”
“I know,” he said, and his voice was rough with his own emotion. “I know you did.”
I felt like I was breaking into a million pieces. I buried my face in his neck, breathing in his familiar scent.
“I’ve never felt like this before,” I whispered. “About anyone.”
“Neither have I,” he admitted, his lips pressing against my temple. “You scare the hell out of me, Clementine.”
“Good scary or bad scary?”
“The kind of scary that makes you want to be better than you are.”
I pulled back to look at him. I could see the emotion in his eyes. This strong, controlled man was as broken as I was.
“What if we’re making a mistake?” I asked. “What if we could figure this out together?”
For a moment, hope flickered in his expression. Then reality crashed back over both of us.
“Your family—”
“My family would understand if I explained.”
“The sponsors—”
“We could find new sponsors.”
“Clem.” He cupped my face in his hands, thumbs brushing away my tears. “You know it’s not that simple.”
“It could be,” I said desperately. “If we just tried—”
He kissed me again, cutting off my words. When his lips crashed against mine, I could feel his desperation.
His hands moved to the hem of my yellow top. I lifted my arms to help him pull it over my head. The cool air of the limo hit my skin, but his touch burned hot against me.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice reverent as his eyes traveled over me. “I want to remember every inch of you.”
I reached for his sweater, my fingers trembling as I pulled it over his head. The sight of his lean chest, those tattoos I’d traced before, made my breath catch. I pressed my palms against his skin, feeling his heart hammering.
“I love touching you,” I admitted, my voice barely audible.
He groaned and captured my mouth again, his kiss fierce and claiming. I could feel how much he wanted me in the desperate way his hands roamed my body.
My hands moved to his belt, fumbling with the buckle until he helped me. He lifted his body with me on top of him while I pushed his pants down, freeing that beautiful erection. When I wrapped my hand around him, he threw his head back against the leather seat, a low curse escaping his lips.
“Clem,” he breathed.
I ran my hand up and down his shaft, relishing in the power. He looked at me like I was his only reason for breathing. I wanted to give myself to him completely, even if it was our last night.
“I need you,” I whispered against his skin, kissing my way down his chest. I slid off his lap and knelt in front of him. I teased him with the tip of my tongue, lapping him like my favorite ice cream before I sucked the tip.
He groaned, wrapping one hand around the back of my neck and pulling me closer. I could feel how much he wanted me. It was the same way I wanted him.
“God,” he moaned as I took him in my mouth.
I couldn’t stop myself from whimpering as I took more of him, loving the way he felt against my tongue.
If this was my last time with him, I was going to milk it for all it was worth. I wanted him undone and begging for my body. Begging for release.
I lavished attention on him with my mouth, taking my time to explore every ridge and vein. The sounds he made above me were the sweetest music I ever heard. Deep groans and whispered curses sent heat pooling between my thighs. I’d never felt so powerful, so in control of someone else’s pleasure.
“Fuck, Clem,” he breathed, his fingers tightening in my hair. “You’re amazing.”
I pulled back just enough to look up at him, my lips still barely touching his tip. His dark eyes were wild with need, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
“I want to taste you when you come,” I whispered before taking him deep again.
That nearly undid him. His hips jerked involuntarily. I could feel his control starting to fracture. But just as I thought he might let go completely, his hands suddenly gripped my shoulders.
“No,” he said roughly, pulling me up. “Not like this. I need to be inside you.”
Before I could protest, he was lifting me back onto his lap, his hands making quick work of my remaining clothes. The urgency in his movements matched the desperation I felt burning through my veins.
His hands positioned me over him.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything,” I said, echoing the words I’d spoken in Chicago.
When I sank down onto him, we both cried out. The sensation was overwhelming. It wasn’t just the physical connection, but the emotional weight of knowing this was our goodbye. I could see it in his eyes too, that bittersweet mixture of ecstasy and heartbreak.
“God, you feel incredible,” he groaned, his forehead pressed against mine.
I began to move, slowly at first, savoring every sensation. His hands gripped my hips, guiding my rhythm as we found our pace together. The confined space of the limo made everything feel more intimate, more desperate.
“I wish things could be different,” I whispered against his lips.
“So do I,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “So do I.”
We moved together with increasing urgency, chasing a release that we both knew would be tinged with sorrow. When I felt myself starting to climb toward that peak, I buried my face in his neck, breathing in his scent one last time.
“I’m going to remember this forever,” I said.
“So am I,” he promised.
I could feel him getting close, his breathing becoming ragged against my neck. His grip on my hips tightened, fingers digging into my skin in a way that would probably leave marks tomorrow. Good. I wanted to have a tangible reminder of the night.
“Clem,” he groaned. “I’m going to—”
“Yes,” I whispered against his ear. “Let go for me.”
That was all it took. His hips bucked up into me with sudden force, driving himself deeper than before. The unexpected intensity made me cry out, my nails digging into his shoulders as he thrust up again and again, chasing his release with an urgency that bordered on wild.
“Fuck,” he cursed, his voice rough and broken. His movements became erratic, powerful, each upward thrust sending shockwaves through my entire body. I could feel him losing control completely. It was the most beautiful thing I ever witnessed.
The way he moved beneath me was driving me absolutely crazy.
Every time his hips snapped up, hitting that perfect spot inside me, I saw stars.
His desperate movements were pushing me toward another edge.
It was like neither of us was ready for it to be over.
I didn’t know where our bodies found the strength, but we were both hurtling toward another orgasm.
And then it hit. Our cries of pleasure were in unison. His strong arms wrapped around me and held me close to him. I whimpered and moaned as my body shattered into a million pieces. He kissed the side of my neck and face. His shaky breaths washed over me.
“Phil will be back any minute,” he murmured.
I understood. We did not need to get caught with our pants down. I slid off him. We both dressed in the quiet.
The sudden shift from the passionate man to the guy that appeared to be bored left me reeling. “Rhett—”
“You should fix your lipstick,” he said without looking at me.
I fumbled in my purse for my compact, hands shaking as I tried to repair the damage. In the small mirror, I looked exactly like what I was, a woman who’d just been thoroughly fucked and was now trying to pretend it hadn’t happened.
A tap on the window made us both freeze. Phil was back.
“Ready to go, sir?” the driver called.
Rhett looked at me and then popped open the door a few inches. “We’ll be taking Ms. Hartley home first.”
“Yes, sir.”
As the limo pulled away from the hotel, the silence between us felt suffocating. I wanted to reach for him, to try to bridge the sudden distance, but he was staring out his window like I wasn’t even there.
“So I guess I’ll see you on Thanksgiving for the grand opening?” I said as we approached my neighborhood. “I told Simone I would like to be there. I know I wasn’t scheduled to help in the kitchen, but I am going to.”
He finally looked at me, and his expression was completely shuttered. “Actually, you’re off the hook for that. I don’t need you there.”
The words hit me like a slap. “What do you mean you don’t need me? I’ve been part of this project from the beginning.”
“You’ll just be a distraction,” he said flatly.
“A distraction?” Hurt and anger warred in my chest. “Rhett, I want to be there. This soup kitchen means everything to me too.”
“Yeah, well,” he said, not meeting my eyes as the limo pulled up to my house. “Tonight has made one thing clear. We don’t always get what we want.”
I stared at him, this man who’d held me so tenderly just minutes before was now looking at me like I was a stranger. “So that’s it? You’re just going to shut me out completely?”
“It’s better this way,” he said. “Cleaner. That’s what you wanted, right? We said one last time. We had that time. It’s done. It’s over.”
Phil had gotten out and was walking around to open my door.
“Rhett, please.”
“Goodbye, Clementine.”
The finality in his voice made it clear the conversation was over. I got out of the limo on unsteady legs, my heart shattering all over again. I watched it drive away and realized that losing him twice in one night was worse than losing him once.