Page 39 of Playing Dirty

The toy slid inside slowly, stretching me, filling me in a way that had my breath catching. I arched off the bed, whispering his name like it meant something. Like I meant something.

The orgasm slammed into me, sharp and sudden. I cried out, body trembling, back bowing as the wave rolled through.

And then it was quiet again.

Too quiet.

I lay there panting, chest rising and falling as the sweat cooled on my skin. The toy slipped from my fingers, forgotten beneath the covers. I pulled the blanket up, wrapped myself tight like it could hold me together.

My heart ached—hot and sore.

Not from what I’d done.

From how badly I wanted him. Rhett. Not just the fantasy. Not just the sex. I wantedhim.

His voice. His hands. His presence.

I’d thought it was just longing.

But it was more than that.

It was need.

And that scared me more than anything else.

The light woke me first.

That soft, silvery kind that creeps in through the curtains when the sun is just starting to rise and the world still feels half-asleep. I blinked up at the ceiling, disoriented. The fire was out. The bedroom had gone cold.

But I was warm.

Too warm. My skin still hummed, tingling like an echo I couldn’t shake. The sheets were tangled around my legs, my nightshirt twisted, my heart thudding like I’d been running in a dream I couldn’t remember—only the feeling of it lingered. Heat. Hands. A mouth whispering things I wanted to believe were true.

Rhett’s name pressed against my lips like a secret I hadn’t meant to keep.

I laid there for a long minute, staring at the ceiling as the ache in my chest stretched wide and deep.

It wasn’t shame that settled over me.

It was clarity.

I wasn’t just lonely.

I was starving—for something real. For something that didn’t vanish in the morning light or lie with a smile. I wanted honesty. I wanted to be seen and touched like I mattered—not just for a night, but for everything I was trying so hard to hold together.

And deep down, I knew exactly who I wanted it from.

And it wasn’t Matt.

Chapter Eleven

Proof and Promises

Rhett

The road home stretched out before us—familiar, wide-open spaces.

We had stopped a few times to eat and stretch our legs, but Sawyer hadn’t spoken much since we left Casper. Neither had I, except to call Tessa and Colt and tell them what we had found. I had promised to stop by when we returned so that we could devise the best plan to break the news to Callie.