So as he divested himself of the remains of his clothes, he told her, “Hands above your head. Legs spread. No touching.”
Her eyelashes fluttered in confusion, but after a second, she did as she was told. The eroticism of her obedience humbled him, stoked his arousal to a fever pitch, and he moved between her thighs. Her body was displayed to pure perfection, arms above her head, neck long and graceful, br**sts rising up, her legs spread wide for him, her blond curls dark and damp. When he sank into her, she cried out, then looked up to him for approval. For instruction.
He paused, the agony of the thick, pulsing desire, the primal pleasure from her surrender, almost unbearable. He shook his head, indicating no speaking, because he couldn’t speak himself. He wanted to experience his invasion of her body in silence, her screams of his name still echoing in his ears. She understood without any words from him, and her teeth sank into her bottom lip to hold back the moans as he began to move inside her.
Never had he felt this kind of connection, this deep of an intimacy with a woman, and he bent over to kiss her, wanting her to taste the lingering scent of her own body on his tongue. “Say it again,” he murmured softly against her mouth, his gaze locked with hers.
She knew what he meant. “Rhett,” she whispered, and the sweetness of his name on her lips broke his control.
He thrust deep and just said, “Shawn,” hoping she would understand that this was something different, something important happening between them. “Touch me.”
As he pushed in and out of her warmth, he expected her to lock her ankles behind his ass, to dig her nails into his back.
But she didn’t. Her legs stayed spread wide for him.
While her fingers reached up and stroked his cheeks.
It disarmed him entirely, that soft caress, her smooth hands cupping his face, while she mouthed his name in silence, the sentiment hitting him harder than when it had been torn from her on a shout.
Turning his head, he kissed her fingers, dragging one into his mouth, biting the tip before pulling it down onto the bed and intertwining her fingers with his. When the rush came, when he exploded inside her, their eyes never left each other, and Rhett knew that they had just crossed a line that couldn’t be taken back.
He didn’t want to take it back.
He wanted to stay there forever, bodies meshed together, emotions real and honest.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“SO what is this, Take Your Hot Husband We Didn’t Know You Had to Work Day?” Linda asked Shawn Monday morning after she had introduced Rhett.
“Ha ha. I’m so glad my staff has such a sense of humor.”
Linda shrugged, looking remarkably not contrite. “Friday you left at noon single, or so I thought. You been hiding him in your bedroom?” She eyed Rhett over her reading glasses. “I know I would.”
Shawn was surprised that more than annoyance, what she was actually feeling was a prickling of pride that her accounts receivable employee thought her husband was hot stuff. Because the truth was, he was hot stuff. He was gorgeous, built, he focused on her in bed, and he made coffee.
He was a keeper.
And she had gone from being entirely freaked out to wondering if, in fact, this relationship could be something more than a matter of saving her track and getting some booty at the same time.
Maybe it was the afterglow, but she was feeling just fine, thank you very much. Nothing Linda said was going to irritate her. “Maybe I have,” she said airily.
Rhett gave her a sly smile, and she knew he was remembering exactly what she was—last night and this morning’s repeat performance. Her body still ached in places she didn’t know she could ache.
Linda snorted, and dropped her reading glasses down onto her ample chest. She was a feisty woman in her late fifties, and she favored cheetah prints and cherry-red hair dye. She had been working at Hamby as long as Shawn could remember. In fact, when Shawn was little, she had been in awe of Linda, who had seemed like an exotic bird, with her eighties shoulder pads and jumbo hair, lips shiny and red, eyes painted with glittery shadow. Now she was settled into her desk chair behind her computer, eyeballing Shawn with no small amount of curiosity. “So I never pegged you for being able to keep a secret, girl, but apparently you’ve been mum about your dating life. How did you meet?”
“Through Eve Monroe, my sister-in-law,” Rhett told her.
That was a bit of a stretch, but it could be true. Frankly, it would have only been a matter of time before they had crossed paths. The only reason they hadn’t was because Eve had been married to Nolan just a few months and she had been busy changing careers, and Shawn had been dealing with her grandfather’s illness. They hadn’t seen each other much lately, other than at book club, and never with Nolan’s family around.
“Hmm. Well, congratulations then,” Linda said, and that seemed to be the end of it. “So are you actually working today, or did you bring your man candy just for show and now you’re bugging?”
“I’m working, thank you very much. And his name is Rhett. Show a little respect,” she told Linda, but since she was grinning, the admonishment wasn’t going to have much impact. But she couldn’t help it. She was feeling, well, like a new bride. It was embarrassing, but she couldn’t stop it.
Linda rolled her eyes. “Sure thing, hon. I’m on it.”
“We’re having a party on Valentine’s Day, and you’re invited.”
“Open bar?” Linda asked.
“Cash bar.” There was no way in hell Shawn was paying for her friends and family to get liquored up and line dance to Cotton-Eyed Joe.
“What?” Linda was appalled.
“Maybe we can work something out,” Rhett said. “We’ll see how long the guest list is.”
They left Linda sputtering at her desk about the nerve of some people, and they went into Shawn’s office. Rhett closed the door firmly behind him and said, “Give me a kiss.”
“Another one?” she teased, though she was more than willing to comply. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she kissed him deeply. “Mmm. Wakes me up better than coffee.”
“I thought it was my c**k pounding you that woke you up this morning.”
“That, too.” Her ni**les hardened at the memory of how he had awakened her with kisses and a teasing hand over her br**sts, her sex, dragging her out of sleep and into languid pleasure before entering her with a decisive thrust. “I don’t usually like Monday mornings, but then again, they’ve never started like that.”