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But that couldn’t be right. Could it? After all, this was just sex. Incredible, mind-blowing sex. But just sex, nonetheless.
Right?
CHAPTER 22
Rhett
The last traces of the primal rage that had surged through me when I’d seen that bruise on Scarlett’s face had finally faded away. Now I was just hungry and tired. And desperate to wrap my arms around her and hold her close. Stupid. That was not part of the deal. So instead, I stood and said, “I’ll grab you a shirt.”
“Okay.”
Rummaging in my draw, I pulled out an old college t-shirt. “And an ice pack for your face.”
She put the shirt on and climbed from the bed. “Is it bad?”
“Here, let me see,” I said softly, reaching out to gently push her hair away from her face. The bruise was already darkening, a blotch against her porcelain skin. “I’ve seen worse,” I told her, but my voice was tight. I hated that someone had dared to lay a hand on her and had to swallow down the bile that rose in my throat at the thought.
The intercom buzzed then, a shrill sound that made us both jump. I leaned over and pressed the button. “Yes?”
“Your order has arrived, Mr. Rivers.” The voice of my doorman came through loud and clear.
“Send it up, thanks.” I let go of the intercom and turned back to Scarlett. Fuck, she looked adorable in my shirt. I rubbed at my chest, not really liking the tightness I felt there. “How hungry are you?”
“Starving.”
She followed me into the kitchen, watching as I grabbed an ice pack from the freezer. “Take this while I grab the food.”
“Yes, sir.”
“That’s my girl.”
She gave me her signature eye roll, but placed the pack to her cheek anyway, wincing as she did so.
Figuring she’d be more comfortable on the couch, I brought the food to the living room and put it on the coffee table.
“This okay?”
“Sure.” She perched on the edge of my leather couch, the ice pack pressed to her cheek, looking like she belonged in my space more than I did. Shaking my head at how ridiculous that was, I sat down next to her. Fuck, what was it about her in my shirt that had me all…whatever. Feeling like I needed something else to occupy my attention, I switched the television on and found a baseball game to watch. Then I pretended to watch it for the next ten minutes while we ate.
When we finished, Scarlett wiped her mouth with a napkin and turned to me, her blue eyes bright in the soft glow of the livingroom. She took the ice pack from her face and placed it on the table.
“You know you can’t get me pregnant again, right?”
I almost choked on my last bite of pizza. “Uh, yeah. Of course.”
The way she leaned in, letting me catch a whiff of her perfume, made my head swim. “Do you know what that means?”
I swallowed hard, my mind racing to catch up. “No. What does it mean?”
A slow, seductive smile spread across her face, and she reached out to trace a finger down my chest. “It means…you can fuck me bare.”
My pulse leaped. “Uh, yeah, I guess it does mean that.” The thought of being inside her with nothing between us was fucking intoxicating. “Scarlett,” I began, my voice hoarse, not even sure what I was planning to say.
She cut me off with a kiss, her lips soft and insistent against mine. “Don’t overthink it, Rhett,” she murmured against my mouth, moving so that she was straddling me. “Just fuck me bare.”
Jesus fuck, the feel of her body pressed against me was like a drug. I could feel her through the thin fabric of my sweatpants.“Just fuck me bare,”she’d said, and every cell in my body screamedyes, as the world seemed to tilt on its axis.
I gripped her hips, pulling her closer to me as her tongue danced with mine. The taste of her, the feel of her body against mine—it was all-consuming. I wanted more, needed more. Needed to feel her, skin to skin, without any barriers between us.