Page 17 of Curvy Cabin Fever
MORGAN
A ria and Damien have retreated to his bedroom, but this time for rest. Aria looked exhausted, and Damien glared in Rhett’s direction when she returned inside, asking if he’d upset her anymore.
“No,” Aria had said, but then yawned. “I’m just so tired.”
Damien had taken her hand and guided her to bed, leaving me alone with the big bad wolf.
Not that I mind, but Rhett Callahan is as stubborn as a mule when he wants to be, and that is all the fucking time.
Rhett and I have always been closer out of the three of us. Maybe because I see beneath his tough guy exterior, or my secret crush makes me wear rose-tinted glasses.
Who knows?
I take my coffee outside and watch him work, shoveling the driveway like it’s done something personally to upset him. I won’t complain; I’d watch Rhett empty the trash—he’s that sexy. But I can see his tense movements, stiff jawline, and furrowed brow, which tell me he’s lost in his head again.
I sigh and lean on the railing, glancing around.
“You’re in a mood,” I observe, sipping my coffee as Rhett grunts, barely acknowledging me. “Talk to me, man.”
But he doesn’t.
He’s complicated, yet here I am, willing to do anything for him to feel better. He was in the wrong yesterday, but he spent all day and all night alone, and I hate that. I had a great time with Damien and Aria, but Damien isn’t great at sharing.
I doubt he’d do it again, the possessive prick.
“You need to tell me what the fuck you were thinking, speaking to her and then us like that,” I urge pointedly, staring down at him.
He’s like a sexy lumberjack, and for a second, I wish we had some wood for him to chop.
My dick strains in my pants, and I curse myself.
Not now, Little M.
“I don’t have to explain shit,” Rhett mutters.
“Well,” I say, stepping down so I’m closer to him, his scent hitting me as the wind shifts.
Fucking yum.
“You do.”
Rhett glares at me and shakes his head, continuing to shovel the snow.
“Is it because you wanted her first? Or that you wanted her to yourself?”
Rhett stops, whirling to face me with eyes wide, his teeth gritted together.
“Ex- fucking -cuse me?”
Ooh, I hit a nerve.
“So I’m right,” I comment, hating that my stupid little heart breaks a little at the realization that it wasn’t me he was jealous about; it was her.
I shouldn’t care; I should be glad he’s finally found someone he is interested in. Hell, if he’d said first off that he wanted her to himself, I’d have been his wingman—anything to see him smile.
Liar, liar, pants on fire! a voice niggles at me, and I press my lips together.
“I don’t care who she fucks.”
I arch a brow. “No? So why throw the worst insult you could at her?”
I know I’m pushing his buttons, but I don’t care. This man has to take responsibility for his actions. Poor Aria didn’t deserve it, and neither did we.
“Are you jealous that I fucked her?” I can’t stop getting in his face, wanting to see his raw reaction. “That I made her come? That she screamed my name? Is that it? Huh?”
Rhett stares at me, anger swirling in his eyes. “Morgan, I’m warning you now, shut the fuck up.”
But I’m a sucker for pain. Always have been, always will be.
“Every time I fuck someone, you’re like this,” I say, realization hitting me hard. I frown at him as his eyes widen, his face losing color.
“Is it…me?” I swallow as he blinks, but he’s almost gray now, and it’s not from the cold; it’s from my words. “Are you jealous of her, too? Because she got to fuck me ?”
Rhett shoves me, but I grip his coat, tugging him close to me, closer than he’s ever been before. Our mouths are close, our breathing heavy, and I see it—the moment when his gaze flickers to my mouth.
“You think about me, don’t you?” I whisper, my heart fluttering in my chest.
I’ve dreamt of this moment. Where Rhett leans forward and claims my lips?—
But Rhett yanks himself away, shaking his head and cursing.
I stand there, fully aware that Rhett Callahan nearly lost control with me. I saw it in his eyes, in his gaze, and fuck me, I’ve never wanted him more.
“You gonna keep ignoring this, Callahan?” I call out, unable to stop myself. I’m almost giddy with delight—no matter what he says now, I saw it—the lust in his eyes.
He wants me, and I’ve always wanted him.
“Ignore what? ” Rhett huffs, stabbing his shovel into the ground. “You’re fucking crazy, you know that?”
I step closer, yanking the fucking shovel out of his hands and tossing it down the driveway.
Rhett loses it, shoving me hard, but I don’t fucking budge.
Not when I’m right, not when I’m this close.
“Nothing happened, Archer,” Rhett growls.
“Then why are you so fucking mad?” I demand, stepping into his private space, no longer caring if I’m provoking the beast.
Rhett’s nostrils flare, his fists bunched at his sides like he’s going to punch me, but then I see it.
The flicker of hesitation in his eyes.
“Tell me I’m wrong,” I coax, heart slamming against my ribs.
Rhett glares at me, but his gaze moves to my lips, then back to my eyes.
Oh, my god.
I lean in, my hand reaching up to cup his cheek, our noses brushing as my lips ghost his…he closes his eyes, and I swear, my heart nearly bursts, my dick solid in my pants.
Finally.
But then Rhett rips himself away, turning and slamming his fists on the hood of his truck. “I’m not like this! This isn’t…”
I stare at him, watching as he battles with his emotions again, my poor broken man, not knowing how to admit that he fucking wants me.
But that’s okay, because now I know I’m willing to wait.
As long as it fucking takes.
I let my gaze drag over his body and bite my fist, wishing I could throw him on the bonnet and show him how much I want him. To hold him in my arms and tell him it’s okay. But that’s not Rhett. The masculine little fucker would never let me hold him.
No .
It’s clear who would be the bottom in this situation, and I’m more than happy with it.
“Not ready yet, huh?” I respond, backing away. “That’s okay, Callahan; I’ve waited this long, I can wait some more.”
Rhett stomps away, and I let him go.
Because to me, this is a victory.
I nearly kissed my best friend, the love of my life.
I can wait.