Page 51 of Smokin' Situation

A few months ago, I’d dreaded coming back home, feeling like I was starting over, but now, pulling Rhey out of a pickup truck—yet again—felt like returning to Sage Springs wascoming home.

There wasn’t any other way to describe it. Meeting her at the festival and then the events of the crazy forty-eight hours that followed were like something out of a movie. I still felt like I was waiting for the other shoe to drop, but I couldn’t stop myself from falling for her if I tried.

Rhey stirred as I carried her down the path to my cabin, sleepily blinking up at me.

“Did I fall asleep?” Her voice was raspy and low, drowsy with sleep.

“Mhmm.” I nodded, keeping my eyes on the path.

Earlier today, I’d teased her about bending her over the porch railing and ripping her dress off, but now I wasn’t so sure I was in the mood for something frantic.

Rhey had cast a spell over me earlier as we swayed in each other’s arms whenever the music slowed. Her body curled into mine naturally, feeling like we were one. It was like this world didn’t seem so out of touch. She made me crave the feeling of her soft skin beneath my fingertips, of breathing her in and watching her eyes as I slipped inside her.

“It still seems hazy out here,” she whispered, combing her fingers through the hair on the back of my head. I loved how she seemed to want to touch me as much as I wanted to do the same to her.

She’d been the first person I’d let close since my skin grafts healed, and they didn’t seem to bother her. Jay had been horrified by the ugly pink skin every time he’d peeled back a dressing, both in the hospital and once I was staying at his place. He never said anything, but I saw the looks in the bathroom mirror, and someone who’d once been my jovial, affectionate brother hadn’t hugged me in months. Not that my sour mood had lifted until a few days ago, so I guess I couldn’t blame him entirely for being standoffish.

My own mother looked at me with pity and hugged me like I was made of glass, but this gorgeous creature in my arms hadn’t even flinched and touched me like she wanted to. Like she wanted me.

“Sometimes it takes a while for the smoke to dissipate. It was good to control the fire when the winds died down, but it might be a few more days until the smoke clears out so we can see the stars again.”

She arched an eyebrow as I stepped onto the porch, the light next to the door illuminating her grin. “Someone promised to make me see stars earlier. I believe we have a date with a porch railing.”

“Maybe another night,” I said, lowering her to her feet by the front door.

“Why not now?” she asked, nodding toward the rail I’d wanted to bend her over earlier.

“Because the air quality still isn’t great out here, and there are plenty of other places inside that cabin to break in first. But don’t worry, sweetheart, I always keep my promises.”

“Hmm,” she hummed, stepping close and slipping her palm behind my neck. She tugged, and I leaned forward, bracing my hand on the door above her head as she rose to whisper in my ear. “Does my good boy want to lay me out on that kitchen island and have a late-night snack?”

“I am feeling a bithungry,“ I growled in her ear, loving the way she kept asking me for what she wanted. It was undeniably sexy when a woman took control of her own pleasure.

I reached beside her hip, turning the door handle and pushing the door in slightly before I grasped the backs of her thighs and lifted her.

She giggled as I carried her across the room, setting her on the edge of the island. I moved to grab the nearly empty fruit basket from behind her, but she put her hand on my chest.

“I’ve always wanted to do this,” she giggled, reaching behind her to push the basket off with a sweep of her arm, the two apples that’d been inside rolling across the floor. Next was the stack of mail I’dbrought back with me from the post office, cascading to the floor on the far side of the island.

“And I’ve always wanted to do this,” I responded, placing my palms on her knees and slowly sliding them up her thighs underneath the material of her dress. Dragging a knuckle down her bare slit when I reached the apex of her thighs, I relished in the breathy moan she let out. Moving my hands to her hips, I yanked her to the edge of the counter.

“Pretty sure you’ve already done that…multiple times,” she teased, leaning back to brace her palms against the countertop.

“But I haven’t done this,” I responded, backing my hands out of her dress and gripping the fabric on either side of the slit in the material. With one swift yank, the stitches gave way, making a satisfying sound as it ripped to her navel.

“Well, you did promise.”

“And I’ll buy you a dozen more if you let me rip them off you like this,” I growled, yanking again and revealing the swells of her bare breasts. Halle-fucking-lujah for sundresses and no bras.

“Just going to leave it like this?” she asked, looking pointedly at the last few inches of material barely holding the sides of her dress together.

“What do you want from me, Rhey?” I asked, tracing the back of my finger along the underside of one breast, enjoying the breathy whimper she couldn’t keep inside.

“Rip it,” she demanded, tipping her head backward and moaning when the material gave way. I lowered the straps down her arms, leaving the destroyed dress in a puddle beneath her naked body.

“Fuck,” I groaned, taking in how hot she looked perched on the edge of my kitchen island, the moonlight caressing her spectacular curvy body from the window behind me.

“Not yet,” she teased, reaching up to unbutton my top two buttons. She bit the corner of her lip as she toyed with the third button, looking up at me.

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