Page 58 of Dirty Martini
What would it mean to accept his apology? What would become of us? He said he understood this couldn’t be more, but is that whatIwant?
No, I know what I want. I want to get to know him again. I want what we used to have when I didn’t need to fight the urge to take care of him and lavish him with the attention I crave to give him. I want to not feel guilty about the possessive instinct that takes over me when it comes to him.
I want to know the man he’s become, and I want to know how I fit into the picture of his life.
“Everest—”
“And I’m sorry for everything else,” he blurts out, seemingly unable to stop now that he’s started. “I didn’t mean those things about you wasting your life bartending. It was a dick thing to say and?—”
I place a hand over his mouth to stop his rambling, quirking an eyebrow. “Can I speak now?” He nods, my hand still on his mouth until I’m sure he’s done. “First, yeah, it was. It hurt to hear you say that, but I said some shit too. We both gave as good as we got.”
“But it’s over now?” he asks, a beautiful glint of hope in his eyes. “We can be friends?”
I let out a deep breath. Forgive and forget seems like a stretch, but moving on sounds so goddamn cathartic. Like closing the door on a memory that’s haunted me for years. I look at him.Reallylook and, for once, I stop fighting. I let out the caged affection I have for him until it becomes overwhelming. He’s not the same person he was before, but the sweet shyness that always endeared me to him is still there.
I decide at this moment to take the leap. I don’t know if he’ll hurt me again, but the thrill of being with him is too hard to resist. He makes me feel out of control but, looking back, it’s in the best way possible. The pull I feel toward him is strong, and I’m ready to give in. I raise my hand slowly and palm his cheek. His eyes widen for a brief second before they flutter shut when I brush my thumb against his skin.
“I’m going to kiss you now, baby,” I whisper and lean in until my nose meets his. “I need you to understand what that means.”
“What?” he breathes, swaying under my hold.
“It’s in the past.” I hesitate once more as bravery helps me express what I never thought I was capable of. “Don’t hurt me again.”
“Never.” He grips my wrist tightly. “Kiss me, Rhys.”
And that’s all I need to close the distance between us and settle my lips on his.
The burst of fireworks that explodes behind my closed lids is un-fucking-believable. It’s like all that shit from romance novels is true. The minute the warmth of him hits me, I’m lost. His lips are firm, yet they yield under my tongue when I skim along his seam. He tastes like cherries and a freshness I’ve never experienced before. I consume his groan and melt when his hands knock my baseball cap off to thread through my hair.
This is different from our rough fucking, from the need to claim him so primally and assert my possession over him. It’s sweeter, slower, a dance of tongues and light scraping of teeth. It’s the final barrier that’s kept me from opening up to him, and I don’t know how I’ll stop the floodgates that have opened.
Because with one kiss, I know that not only is Everest mine—in whatever way he is—but if he keeps on drawing me in, I’ll become his too.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Rhys
“When doyou think the power is going to come back on?”
I chuckle against Everest’s lips, my hands wandering down his bare chest until they grip his thigh so I can hook his leg over my hip. “Why? You bored?”
It’s hasn’t even been a full day without power, and I can tell Everest is already going stir crazy. After the intense moment we shared where he owned up to the past and made amends, we both took a long nap. We’ve been awake for a bit, just holding each other as we listen to the pounding of the rain against the windows, but I haven’t been able to keep my hands off him for long.
“Not bored,” he sighs, tipping his head back when I press soft kisses on his neck.
“Maybe I need to find a way to entertain you,” I tease, settling my hand over his clothed cock.
He groans when I start massaging him, wriggling under my touch. “H-How?”
“Tell me your favorite thing to do in the bedroom,” I say as I lick at the seam of his lips. “What do you love that I can give you?”
He blushes, nibbling on his bottom lip as he nervously runs his hands over my shoulders. “Um…”
Rolling on top of him, I grind down until he lets out a soft whine. “What is it?”
“You might not like it,” he admits through a gulp. “Which is totally fine, but I don’t want you to do it just because?—”
I bite down on his neck until he whimpers. “Tell me. You might not know this, but I like you dirty, and I know how filthy you can be.”
