Page 19 of Rhett (The Swift Brothers #3)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Tripp

T he moment we arrive at Archer and East’s, Meadow starts hugging and playing with East’s dogs, Pretty Girl and Casanova. They’ve both been through it—abused, with damaged limbs and disabilities that made other people not choose them for their pets. Except East, of course.

“What are you going to do tonight?” Archer asks. East is talking to Meadow and the dogs, so technically I could tell him whom I’m hanging out with, but I haven’t shared anything about Rhett and me since we added a physical element to our relationship. I would never want to share something against his wishes, and I also worry it will complicate things even more than they already are.

“Gonna hang out at home,” I settle on, which isn’t a lie.

Honestly, I couldn’t believe Rhett said yes. I hadn’t expected him to, though I hoped he would. I wasn’t sure if this would feel like pressure on him, and when he said no, I was sure I’d gone a step too far, but when he explained what he meant, I found myself smiling like an idiot, alone in my bedroom.

“You’re grinning,” Archer says.

Damn it. Clearly, I’m doing it again. “Mind your business,” I say in a tone I’m sure Archer recognizes as not me being a dick, but because there’s a reason I can’t share.

He cocks a brow. “Whatever you say.” Then he rests his hand on my shoulder and squeezes.

“All right, Meadow-bug. I’m outta here. Thanks for having her, East.”

“Thanks for letting her stay,” Easton replies, more interested in his pups than me. That’s his way, though. He doesn’t mean anything by it.

“Bye, Dad. I hope you don’t get too bored by yourself.” Meadow comes over and gives me a hug.

I chuckle. “I’m sure I’ll manage.” I kiss the top of her head, then make my way out, more excited than I should be about the night to come. It’s not because I’ll hopefully get to touch him, though obviously, I’m looking forward to that. I just enjoy talking to Rhett. I want to know everything about him, and I miss things like this, someone I’m with or interested in, being in my home, sharing my bed. Christ, I want to share a bed with him , want to hold him all fucking night.

It’s what I think about the whole drive home, and I’m not surprised to pull up and see Rhett’s truck sitting in my driveway early.

He gets out when I do, the two of us meeting in the middle. He has a grocery bag in one hand and a duffel in the other. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to arrive early.”

“It’s okay. I like that about you, and I was hoping you would.” I press a kiss to his lips. “Here, I’ll take this. Let’s get out of the cold.” He hands me the duffel, and we head to the house.

The heat inside feels nice, but the pleasant tingle against my skin has nothing to do with that. “I’ll put this in my room. You can take that to the kitchen.”

When I get back, Rhett is putting cheese in the fridge. I walk up behind him, and as soon as he closes the door, I wrap my arms around him, pressing my lips to his neck. “This okay?” I like touching him so much. Like the feel of him and the smell of him and how it makes me feel that he trusts me.

He drops his head back against my shoulder. “Yes.”

I kiss his throat, nibble on him just slightly.

“You can do…whatever you want to me tonight.”

I smile against his skin. “Whatever I want? Hmm, then I might not stop touching you until tomorrow…and talking to you. I like talking to you, Rhett. I’ll probably try and make you laugh a few times too.”

He chuckles, and I keep kissing and sucking on him. It’s important to me Rhett knows that tonight, and any time we spend together, isn’t just about sex, but at the same time, I want him to know how much I enjoy his body.

I let my hands travel south, not stopping until I palm the growing bulge in his jeans. “What if I want to suck you? What if I can’t wait and I want to blow you right here in my kitchen?” That’s not something we’ve done yet, but damn, I’m dying to feel his fat cock on my tongue.

“Fuck,” he grits out throatily. “Whatever. You. Want.”

“What do you want?” I massage him. “Remember, this is about what you want and how you want it. Do you want my mouth on you?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want me to make you come quickly, or do you want me to make it last?” I like it when Rhett wants me to edge him. It’s something different than I’ve ever done with a lover, something I share just with him. “Your choice, Rhett. Always your choice.”

“Don’t let me come right away. Make it last. I like it when I choose to give up control to you.”

“Fuck, baby. Me too.” I turn him around and slam my lips down on his. Rhett’s back hits the fridge as my tongue pushes into his mouth. He grabs my hips, digs his fingers in so hard, I know he’ll leave marks. I want the marks. Want to know he was so damn hungry for me, he could barely control himself.

I press up against him while I kiss him, rubbing our bodies together. Rhett makes soft, needy sounds as we lose ourselves in each other’s mouths the way we tend to do.

Rhett’s teeth nip into my lip, making a sharp pain pierce me. He pulls back. “Shit. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” I kiss him again, want him urgent for me, want him to lose his head, to forget those thoughts that seem to plague him so much.

We kiss until I feel like I could come in my jeans just from the frenzy of our hunger for each other.

Rhett growls when I pull back, and I can’t help smiling. “Just getting this off.” I tug his shirt over his head, and he lifts his arms, helping me along.

Then, I go down to my knees in front of him, pressing open-mouthed kisses to his stomach while my fingers work open his jeans. As soon as I’m done, I’m tugging them down along with his briefs and burying my face right in the thatch of dark, coarse hair at his groin, breathing in the heady scent of him. I love the smell of being with a man, love the way our bodies match in so many ways.

“Fuck…I haven’t done this in a long time either. It’s going to be hard not to come.”

Years. Rhett Swift hasn’t had sex in years , and he chose me. He’s never had sex with a man at all, and he chose me. It’s one of the best damn feelings in the world. “You let me worry about that.”

I hold the base of his cock, feel the hot throb of his desire against my palm.

“Look at me,” I tell him, and Rhett’s head tilts down, his eyes ablaze with want and…I can’t tell. Curiosity again, yes, and just feeling? Emotion?

I lick slowly from the base of his shaft to the tip. He hisses but never takes his eyes off me.

“You taste good.” Salty and masculine, like sex.

“You feel good,” Rhett says, which goes straight to my head. I take him into my mouth, lave his cock with my tongue as I bob on him, my hand adding to the pleasure.

I watch him while I blow him, each time taking him deep and swallowing around the head of his thick cock. I like the feel of him against my hand too, the way he throbs, the heat radiating off him, how the muscles in his thighs already begin to tighten.

“Fuck,” he mutters above me, fingers in my hair. “Jesus, you’re good at that.” His words come out choppy, and I keep going, suck, stroke, suck, stroke , until his eyes squeeze closed and I can tell he’s about to come, so I pull off.

“None of that yet. You wanted to make this last, right?”

“At the moment, I’m trying to remember why.”

“Because you like to feel good as long as possible.” I kiss one hip bone. “Because you haven’t had enough of it.” Then the other. “Because this is ours, and you like me as much as I like you. At least, I’m hoping.”

Rhett opens his mouth to reply, but I swallow around his cock again, and all that comes out is, “Tripp…”

I like the sound of my first name on his tongue. I’m Cass to so many people, and while that will always be me too, I like that I’m Tripp to Rhett.

I suck him again, bring him to the edge, until his hands are squeezed into fists and he’s mumbling words I can’t make out, and then I pull off…only to start again, over and over.

Edging him is edging me too. My cock is throbbing, begging for release, trapped behind the constricting hold of my boxer briefs and jeans.

When I know this is the last time, when I know I’m ready to make Rhett come, I open my pants, push them down, and set my dick free. I jerk and suck Rhett while jacking my cock. I’m leaking precum like mad, the pull on my dick slick because of it. Rhett’s hips thrust slightly, his gaze on me, eyes wide and full of hunger.

I pull off to say, “I want you to come for me now. Want you to empty those full balls of yours down my throat.” And then I’m back on him.

“Fuck…Tripp…” he says, his cock moving over my tongue, hitting the back of my throat. “So good. You feel so good.”

Those words make me soar. What is it about Rhett that hits me so deeply? That reaches parts of me I didn’t know were there?

My movements speed up, both on myself and him. My jaw aches, but I don’t care. I would do this all night if he wanted me to, but then suddenly, his body is tensing up, his muscles tightening, and I know I’m about to get my reward for a job well done.

Rhett’s cock twitches in my mouth, the first hot spurt of his load landing on my tongue. I swallow him down, still sucking him, and when he spurts again, it sets my orgasm loose, balls drawing up as I lose myself to pleasure, still swallowing what Rhett has to offer until we’re both wrung dry.

“Fuck, I needed that.” I press my forehead to his stomach, then press a kiss to his softening dick.

“I can’t believe you just came on your kitchen floor,” he says all serious, and I can’t help smiling.

I know he’s particular about things, and I don’t want it to bother him, so I say, “I’ll clean it up.”

I ease away from him and stand, but he says, “I’ll do it. I know it mostly bothers me.”

“Nope. I promise you I’m not the type to leave cum in my kitchen.”

“Yeah, but it’s because of me that we have to do it right this second. Plus…I want to do things for you.” He walks around me, pulls up his clothes, goes to the sink, and washes his hands.

My gaze doesn’t leave him, firmly on his back as I pull up my jeans, leaving them unbuttoned and unzipped while he gets paper towels wet.

Rhett takes two trips back and forth, making sure he gets it all taken care of, and I just…stare at him, liking him moving around in my space. Hell, just liking him.

“What?” he asks, throwing away the towels.

“Nothing.” I’m falling too hard, too fast. I have no idea if this can go anywhere, and the last thing I want is to get hurt, but I don’t know that I can stop myself either.

I definitely don’t want to end what we’re doing out of fear.

“You’re looking at me strangely.”

“I guess I’m strange.” I lean in, unable to keep my lips off him, and kiss him again. Rhett opens for me, not seeming to mind that he’s tasting himself on me. “You hungry?”

Rhett nods, then presses his lips to mine again. I fucking love when Rhett kisses me first, when he moves to touch me in any way first. It feels like a gift, like he’s giving me another piece of him.

I pick up his shirt and hand it over, and then we wash our hands to start prepping dinner.

“Okay, you’re in charge, Rhett. Tell me what to do.”

He grins. This big man, who can come off as so standoffish, is excited about this.

“We use Italian sausage. Some people use ground beef. I brought both in case you like one better than the other.”

“You didn’t have to bring both, Rhett. I’ll eat anything. You’re too sweet, you know that?”

He grabs supplies from the fridge. “Not many people would call me that.”

“Well, they’re idiots who don’t know you like I do. Use the sausage.”

He nods. “I’m not sure about that. I feel like I’m nicer than I used to be.” He gets a skillet and a pan for the noodles.

“I don’t believe that. You had your reasons, and now you’re getting past them. Maybe it’s all the good sex.” I wink, and he chuckles.

“Maybe you’re right.”

Rhett gets the sausage going while I fill the pan with water and get it on the stove to boil.

“Are either of your parents Italian?” I ask.

“My mom’s mom was. Her parents passed away before I was born.”

“Aunts? Uncles?”

Rhett shakes his head as he grabs a spatula and breaks up the meat. “I wonder sometimes, if that’s why she stayed with him. If it’s because she had no family and felt alone.”

Rhett doesn’t offer things about his personal life freely, and usually it’s after some prompting. Fear wrestles around in my gut. I don’t want to say the wrong thing and ruin this moment, but I’d like to learn more about him, and I think Rhett wants that too.

“Did he physically abuse—”

“No. Not that. Never that. And in his own way, he loved her—as much as Gregory Swift can love anyone who’s not himself. He loved her more than he ever loved us. He had us for her and, well, because he wanted people to control.”

My hands tighten into fists, and I feel…I feel like I let him down somehow. Like the whole fucking town let Rhett down, Morgan, East, and Ella too. How did we not know? How did he traumatize his kids so much yet the town adored him? The town still adores him.

“He was the hardest on you?”

“No. The easiest,” Rhett replies, voice husky with pain.

I don’t believe that, not at all, but I do think he was different with Rhett.

“He hated East. In his mind, he ruined their perfect world. Life was a lot easier to manage when it was just me, Morgan, and Mom. I always did what he said, and Morgan made Mom happy.”

“You made her happy too.” I might not have known her, but I believe that.

Rhett shrugs. “Anyway, it was the worst for East because he never even got the chance to have Mom, and then lost Ella. East had a hard time, and Gregory never let him forget that he thought it was East’s fault and that he thought East was weak. With Morgan, he tried to control him, but I think he saw that Morgan wouldn’t be as easy as me, so he started to pit us against each other, would use me to upset Morgan and use him to make me jealous. He always told Morgan he was too soft, gave him shit about Dusty, tried his best to make him hate me because again, Morgan had Mom before she died, and I would then only have him.”

Why? I don’t understand how someone can be so cruel. How a parent can be so cruel. But then, do some people need a reason? There’s hate all over the world. People abuse those they love every single day; we just don’t see what’s going on behind the closed doors.

“Baby…that doesn’t sound like he was easy on any of you.” But I’m not surprised Rhett has made himself the bad guy, the one who didn’t suffer as much. He takes too much responsibility for everything. He’d take it for the whole damn world if he could.

“I’m supposed to shield my brothers from pain. I’m supposed to deal with shit so they don’t have to.”

“No. You’re not.”

He turns his back to me, adding the sauce to the meat. I kiss his shoulder, his neck, wrap my arms around him.

“It wasn’t ever your responsibility. Your dad had a responsibility to treat his children right.”

“What about her?” he asks, surprising me. “Sometimes I feel angry at her, for staying, for not telling him to lay off Morgan, or not forcing me to put the books away and go outside to play. And then I feel guilty. How can I feel that way about her? She was a victim too. That doesn’t make me a very good person.”

“You’re the best person.” My words feel hollow, but I’m doing my best. “That’s natural to feel, and you’re right.”

“She really loved us. She tried to give us the best life she could,” he defends.

“Baby, both things can be true at the same time.” I turn him around. “She can be a wonderful person, someone who loved you and wanted what’s best for you, but some of her choices could have hurt you too. Too many people look at the world as black and white, and it’s just not like that.”

Rhett nods, then swipes at his eyes. No tear has fallen yet, but they’re glassy. “I’m sorry. Tonight was supposed to be fun, and I dug up all my shit. I don’t want to ruin this.”

“You’re not.” I cup his face. “You’re letting me in. I want to know everything about you. I want to be one of the people who’s always there for you—good and bad. Life is made up of both. You can’t share your life with someone and only want the good things.” And I think that’s how April was. She checked out when things weren’t fun, when it was time to be responsible. When she realized we always had to put our child first.

“I don’t know what’s happening here.” Rhett drops his forehead against mine. “It’s difficult for me when I don’t understand what’s going on or what’s expected.”

“I don’t expect anything from you other than for you to be you. As for what’s going on, I gotta tell you, Rhett, I’m in deep. Maybe I shouldn’t be already, or maybe I shouldn’t tell you, but I am.”

“I’m in deep too. And I’m not sure how to do that, how not to mess it up.”

My damn heart feels like it’s going to float away. It’s so light, I need to tether it before I lose it completely. “Me neither. But we’ll figure it out together.”

Rhett nods. “Yeah, together.”