Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
Pippa
The walk back to the beach house is strangely quiet.
Not like how it was on our way to the restaurant.
My stomach feels tight, a mixture of adrenaline.
The ocean gleams to our left, sparkling in the late afternoon sun, but I can’t fully focus on it.
My mind keeps replaying the exchange, my words, the way I’d stuttered like a fish out of water when Vanessa asked about the ring.
And how I forced Rhett’s hand. I know he went along with my lie, but he couldn’t really do anything else at that moment.
I keep looking at him out of the corner of my eye, trying to gauge his mood. His posture is relaxed, but I can feel the subtle tension in his jaw, the slight narrowing of his eyes as he glances at me when he feels me looking at him.
“You’ve gone quiet,” he says finally, his voice low, teasing.
“You’re all tense, I feel like you’re mad at me,” I blurt out.
“I’m not mad at you, and I’m not tense. Well, maybe a little bit, but only because I’m worried about why you’ve gone quiet and what you’re planning to do to my dead body.”
I take a deep breath and decide to just come clean.
“I … I’m embarrassed,” I admit, meeting his gaze.
“About what I said to Vanessa. I feel like I … I’ve overstepped and backed you into a corner.
Now, she’ll tell all your friends, and it’ll become a big thing.
Then you’ll have to tell them all we’ve broken off and they’ll be like, ‘oh I’m so sorry, and you’ll … ”
I trail off, aware that I said more than I’d planned to, but the words came tumbling out faster than I could control them, and my face warms in a rush of self-consciousness. Now I have two things to be embarrassed about.
Rhett lets out a low chuckle and shakes his head.
“Pippa, it’s fine, really.” His tone is calm, casual, like I’ve just told him not to forget to get milk at the store, not that I just told someone in his circle that we’re engaged.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s cool. I don’t give a damn if my friends want to pity me. ”
I want to argue, to tell him I still feel bad, but the words stick in my throat.
The truth is, I do feel bad, but a smaller part of me is secretly thrilled.
Thrilled that I stood my ground, thrilled that Vanessa’s smug certainty has been well and truly shattered, and exhilarated that I’ve done something bold, something that feels entirely my own.
We go inside the house, and the cool air of the air conditioner feels like heaven after the heat of the sun. I put my bag down and go and sit down.
“Give me a minute,” he says. “I need to make a call.”
I’m slightly surprised by his choice to make this mystery call now, but I nod. He picks up his cellphone and steps out of the sliding glass door. I stare at my hands in my lap, feeling a sudden emptiness in his absence.
A flurry of thoughts spins through my head. I replay the engagement story, the absurdity of the situation. What if our story backfires? My fingers twist in my lap again as a faint pang of worry tugs at me.
The minute Rhett said he would be, stretches out longer.
I bite my lip, unsure whether to go out and check on him or just wait for him to come back.
Maybe he’s not really making a call. He just couldn’t keep listening to me banging on about the engagement.
Just when I think I’ll go mad, he comes back, slipping into the house and back onto the couch beside me with that familiar, teasing glint in his eyes.
“Your engagement ring will be here tomorrow,” he announces casually.
My jaw drops. “Wait. What?”
He laughs at my expression, a low, teasing sound that makes my stomach flutter. “Don’t panic. It’s just a loaner ring.”
I feel my cheeks warm, a mixture of relief and flustered excitement. “A loaner ring?” What the hell is that?
“Yes,” he says with a shrug, eyes twinkling. “My jeweler is happy to lend me a piece knowing that we’re going to the social event of the year in a few days.”
I laugh, half in relief, half in incredulity that he has someone he considers his jeweler. How often does this guy buy jewelry? Should I be worried? Of course not. This is not a real engagement. I take a deep breath. I’m getting ahead of myself here.
“You’re really not mad?” I ask.
“I’m really not mad,” he repeats. “And the ring will only sell the story. I wouldn’t have gone to these lengths to play along if it wasn’t important to me that Vanessa gets the message.”
“Ok, thank you,” I say.
“Oh no, thank you,” he says. “The look on Vanessa’s face was priceless.”
He stands up and holds his hand out to me. I take it, and he pulls me to my feet.
“Come on, grab your towel. It’s far too nice out there to be stuck in here. Let’s go down onto my private beach.”
It sounds fun. I go and get my beach bag and grab Rhett’s towel for him too.
We cross the patio and walk down a path. The manicured lawns become sand, and I note that the sand here is softer and whiter than the public beach. The waves lap at the shore in gentle, rhythmic pulses. It’s perfect. Safe and isolated, and yet dangerous in the most delicious way.
We are heading down closer to the water, and at one point, my foot slips slightly, and I stumble.
“Careful,” Rhett says with a small smile. “I wouldn’t want you hurting yourself before your adventure starts.”
I pretend to roll my eyes, but I let him take my hand and steer me forward, his grip gentle but firm, grounding me. The ocean spreads out before us, vast and sparkling, and I feel my pulse quicken, the day’s earlier embarrassment fading into anticipation and excitement.
“Do you always make everything this dramatic?” I tease lightly, glancing at him. “Every day is an adventure, every moment is suspenseful?”
He laughs softly, that low, sexy rumble I’ve come to love.
“Only when it’s worth it,” he murmurs. “And this, well, this is absolutely worth it.”
I put my bag down on the dry sand and we walk toward the edge of the water, the surf lapping at our feet, sending cool shivers up my legs. The contrast between the warm sun and the refreshing ocean is electrifying, heightening the tension between us.
I glance at him, trying to read the expression on his face, that mixture of anticipation, mischief, and something deeper, more intimate. My stomach twists in that delicious, dizzying way, and I know, without a doubt, that whatever comes next is going to be unforgettable.
He steps closer to me, closing the distance between us, and I feel the heat radiating off him. His gaze lingers on me, and it builds into a tension that’s palpable, magnetic.
“You’ve gone quiet again,” he murmurs, his voice low, almost a growl.
My pulse spikes. I shake my head, trying to meet his gaze steadily, even though my heart is hammering. “I’m just soaking it all in,” I whisper. “The sun, the water, you, everything.”
He chuckles, leaning closer, and I feel his hand brush against mine again.
“Good,” he says.
We stand there for a long moment, just looking at each other, the waves rolling in, the sun dipping lower, and the world narrowing to just us. My pulse races, every nerve alight with anticipation, and I feel the delicious electricity of possibility crackling in the air.
I think Rhett is going to kiss me when he leans in slightly, but instead, he bends down and the next thing I know, cold sea water is splashing all over me.
I shriek and freeze in shock as it hits me, and then I laugh and splash him right back.
Far more than he did to me. It soon turns into an all-out splash war.
We are both soaking wet by the time we stop. I am laughing and out of breath.
Rhett takes my hand, and we run out of the water onto the dry sand. We quickly strip out of our clinging wet clothes, leaving me in my bikini and Rhett in his swim shorts. The laughter fades away.
“Shall we make the most of our privacy in public?” he murmurs, his voice low and intimate, a promise lingering in the words.
I nod, my heart hammering, a flush creeping up my chest as my body responds to the thrill of the moment. “I think we should.”
Suddenly, the sand shifts beneath us, and I’m on my back on the towel, and Rhett is on top of me, kissing me, my arms around his shoulders.
I can feel his already hard cock pressing against me, and I want him inside of me now.
I am dripping wet, more than ready for him and I reach down and tug his shorts off.
He kicks them aside, then he lifts himself off me long enough to peel off the bottom half of my bikini.
He lies back down on his side beside me, and I roll to face him.
He hooks my leg over his hips, then runs his fingers through my slit as we kiss.
When he starts playing with my clit. Once again, I feel the tension mounting inside my body, but this time, Rhett stops before I can get my release.
I open my mouth to protest, but he doesn’t wait around to listen as he pushes me onto my back, gets between my legs, and thrusts into me.
We move together to the sound of the ocean, and that feeling keeps building up inside of me until finally, it’s like a dam bursting and I climax, hard.
I cling to Rhett as my mouth opens and I scream.
I actually scream! He pumps faster, harder, and then he comes with me, and we cling together, each of us lost in our own pleasure.
Rhett slips out of me as our orgasms begin to fade.
“Do you think my neighbors heard you?” he teases with a mischievous grin.
“Hey, you’re the one who made me feel so good that I couldn’t hold it in,” I fire back.
“Pippa, you scream all you want. I’ll buy my neighbors some headphones,” he says with a laugh.
“Does this mean we get to do that again?”
“I think you already know the answer to that one,” Rhett replies, his eyes already darkening with desire and the promise of more pleasure.