Page 119 of The Fine Line
Overwhelmed and desperate, tears prick the corners of my eyes.
He spots it, reaching up and swiping them away with his fingers.
“Do you mind?” he mutters. “I’m already tending to one weeping mess.”
“Oh, fuck you?—”
He cuts me off by pressing his wet fingers between my legs, making my head snap back.
“Now, don’t go saying things you don’t mean.”
I glare at him, and it only makes his smirk widen.
“Go ahead,” he says, voice husky. “Ride my hand, sweet girl.”
I freeze for half a breath. I shouldn’t. I know I shouldn’t. I never listen to him. I never let him win.
But right now, I can’t think.
Right now, Ineed.
So I do as he says. I grind against him as he rubs slow, deliberate circles. He watches me closely, eyes flicking from my face to my hips, like he’s memorizing everything.
It’s so gentle. But it’s making me come undone.
My moans spill out.
“That’s it,” he whispers.
He wraps his fingers in my hair. I throw my arm around his neck, lifting myself, bucking against him. His gaze drops to my mouth, hovering close—so close our lips almost touch with every thrust.
So close when?—
Knock knock knock.
“Caroline, are you in there?”
My entire body jerks. “Dad?”
I whip around to Rhett, wide-eyed. Everything snaps back into focus.
I drop my arm. Collapse back onto the counter. Rhett steps back, chest heaving, gaze fixed on me.
Oh my God.
“Hon, are you okay?”
“Y–yes,” I stammer. “I’m okay.”
“We’re through the storm now.”
We are?
“But there’s still going to be some turbulence. You need to get back to your seat.”
“Okay, I’m coming!”
Or at least, I was about to.
