Page 57 of Until Tomorrow (Love Doesn’t Cure All: The Ashwood Duet #1)

Eva

Why—when I had a closet full of clothes—did I have nothing to wear? Hands on my hips, I stood in my underwear and stared at the racks of clothes lining my walk-in closet. They all felt… wrong. What the hell was wrong with me?

Usually, I never had an issue with my form-fitting dresses and heels. I’d worn them for years—occasionally adding in a nice pair of dress pants and a blouse. But lately? I hated all of them. They felt off against my skin. It was like I didn’t know who I was in them.

And I didn’t want to wear them.

Any of them.

At all.

In fact, the longer I stood there, the more I realized just how much I hated most of the dresses in there. They weren’t… right. They were some version of me that I’d cultivated to appease others.

I grabbed armfuls of hangars off the racks and stomped back into the bedroom, throwing them down on the bed.

Back and forth… back and forth… until practically my whole closet littered the bed.

I only kept a few, like the sapphire dress I knew Logan loved, and a few pieces I was fond of.

Beyond that, I didn’t want any of them anymore.

I wanted to wear comfortable clothes and comfortable shoes. I wanted to look in the mirror and see me staring back—not some doll made up for someone else’s approval. Not anymore.

Exc ept, as I stared at the obscenely large pile of clothes, I realized that when I got rid of everything here, I wouldn’t have clothes to wear.

What did I want to wear? That was the question of the day—one I had to leave the house to answer. Pursing my lips, I stared at the clothing pile. I hated shopping alone.

I swiped my phone off the dresser and called Rhett.

“Would you like to go shopping with me?” I asked the minute he answered.

“ I… ” he faltered, and I laughed. I let him hem and haw his way through attempting to answer. The poor man probably had no idea what the hell he was getting into with a question like that.

“Let me rephrase that,” I said, finally giving him a reprieve. “Would you like to come stare at my ass and tell me which jeans do it justice?”

“ That’s a much better question, ” Rhett replied with a laugh. “ I’m all in for staring at your ass, spark plug. I need to wrap up some things at the shop, though. Would half an hour be okay? ”

“That’s fine. Should I meet you at the shop—”

“ I can pick you up, ” he interrupted. “ Just let me get this shit wrapped up, and I’ll be there. ”

“Okay.” There was no hiding the smile in my voice.

I moaned with appreciation as I ran my hands over my hips. Why the hell had I ever stopped wearing jeans? I rotated in the mirror, admiring my ass and my hips. Yeah, these looked good and were way more comfortable than pencil skirts and fitted dresses.

Rhett sat in the corner of the dressing room, arms crossed and lips pressed together tightly as he watched. I had a feeling the man was miserable, even if he wouldn’t tell me. The expression on his face was unreadable. I had some serious doubts about whether or not I should’ve invited him.

“Do you like these?” I asked, catching his gaze in the mirror. He merely nodded.

In the mirror, I caught the way he sank his teeth into his lower lip as I bent over to take that pair off. Okay, maybe he wasn’t as miserable as I’d assumed. Just for good measure—and research—I bent over once more, knowing full well what my lace panties looked like from where he sat.

“ Jesus Christ,” Rhett muttered. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, as he dropped his head in his hands.

“Problem?” I asked innocently as I faced him.

“ This ,” he gestured to all of me, “is torture. You’re a fucking cocktease, and you know it.”

I closed the distance between us and placed my hands on his shoulders. This angle with our varying heights didn’t help the matter as it put him at eye level with my breasts.

“What did you think going shopping entailed?”

“Not lace!” he said. To be fair, he had a point.

Did I need to be wearing one of my sexiest bra and panty sets?

Absolutely not. But the rich blue and lace combination looked fantastic on me, and I wanted to see his reaction.

Especially since the more expensive stores I shopped at had private dressing rooms, so we were alone unless I yelled for more clothes from the helper.

The current mound of jeans was a testament to that.

“The lace is torture, spark plug. My cock can’t take much more of this. ”

“You like it,” I reminded him. I took his scruffy cheeks in my hands and kissed him briefly—or tried to. An arm snaked around my back and pulled me hard against his body. I gasped, “Rhett—”

He cut me off with a brutal kiss, his tongue driving between my lips hungrily. Hands dug into my soft skin, teeth scraped against my bottom lip, fingers curled into my hair. That groan that passed through his mouth and into mine shot straight to my core.

Note to self: buy all the lace.

But when his hand slipped between my thighs, I grabbed his wrist and broke the kiss. Eyes wide, I stared at him. The man only smirked.

“There’s people out there!” I hissed.

“Oh, come now, spark plug. Are you saying that me making you come in a store full of people isn’t worth the risk?” Rhett asked quietly. My mouth popped open. He couldn’t be serious. “Turn around.”

Those hands on my hips accepted no arguments as he rotated me. His fingers hooked into my panties and guided them down my legs until I kicked them off. This was by far the most risqué thing I’d ever done. Heat pooled in my core with the mixture of anticipation and excitement.

Rhett dragged me into his lap, pulling me snug against him. I bit my lip as I felt the hard ridges of his dick press into my ass.

“ Do you realize how stunning you are?” Those gray eyes held mine in the mirror while his fingers trailed a slow path up my thighs. “Open your legs, spark plug. Let me see you.”

I faltered. I’d never done anything like this. Hell, sex in the garage had been wild for me, but this? This was an entirely different game to play.

His hands gently opened my legs until I was completely exposed. I would’ve felt ridiculous and ashamed, but the expression on his face was heart-stopping. The hunger in that look made my arousal spike. And that small growl of appreciation as he ran his fingers through my wetness set me on fire.

“So fucking wet,” he commented. His lips touched the spot under my ear. “Is my sweet little spark plug excited at the thought of getting caught… exposed and soaking wet in a dressing room?”

I moaned, unable to stop myself. His hand clamped roughly over my mouth and pulled my head back against his shoulder.

“Quiet now, spark plug,” Rhett ordered, lips brushing against my ear and his breath hot on my skin. “No one else gets to hear my girl come. Not today.”

Heat swirled deliciously in my lower belly. It killed me when he said things like that. His fingers found my already throbbing clit, sending a burst of sensations over my skin. I gasped against his palm and pushed my hips further against him—desperate and needy.

His tongue ran up the side of my neck, and his teeth scraped along my ear.

I shuddered against him while his fingers picked up pace.

A warm flush spread across my chest and crept up my neck as my breathing picked up.

His fingers were brutal, but his lips were gentle as he covered every inch of my skin he could reach in kisses.

My nerves were on fire, and I did my absolute best not to be loud. Oh, he made it so damn hard. I dug my fingers into his forearm, grounding myself and clinging to him.

That heat, that spark, that driving need for release was right there. I could feel it. I needed it. Squirming in his lap, I tried to shut my legs for more friction.

“Don’t you dare close those thighs, Eva,” he ordered gruffly and pushed open my legs once more. “I want to see that pretty pussy of yours as you soak my fingers.”

“ Oh! ” I gasped agains t his palm.

“That’s it, spark plug,” he praised. In the mirror, his heated gaze held mine. “Show me how pretty you are when you come.”

Those words and the way he looked at me were that last little bit I needed to push me over the edge. A throaty moan tore through me as I came, my hips riding his fingers.

His hand slowed to a stop and drifted up to my stomach. Tenderly, he stroked my skin in a way that sent pleasant tingles coursing through my body. I let out a breathy giggle as I melted into him. His fingers dug into my thigh gently while he kissed the curve of my shoulder.

“You are so fucking pretty, Eva,” Rhett whispered against my neck. I leaned into him, blissfully happy with everything.