Page 53 of The Nice Guy
“I love you,” Darla says.
Brynlee snaps her head to glare, but before I can ask what that’s about, she stands. “Ready?”
“Always.”
Chapter Seventeen
Brynlee
Darla has been all over me to tell Rhett how I feel, but I keep reminding her that I can’t. No matter how much I may try to rebel against the lessons Mama taught me, I can’t move past this one.
Especially because there’s still a chance he won’t say it back. If he rejects me, I don’t know what I’ll do. I just have to bidemy time until he’s ready to tell me how he feels. No matter how much it feels like I’m about to burst from not saying the words.
“Where are we going?” I ask as we turn off the gravel road to my house and towards a field.
“Trust me?” Rhett asks, his fingers toying with my thigh as he slowly inches higher to the apex of my thighs.
“Always,” I whisper and nuzzle his neck.
The sharp intake of breath makes my heart flutter, and I can’t wait to see what he’s planned for us. Wherever we’re going, I know I’ll enjoy it. I enjoy pretty much everything I do with Rhett.
It’s new to be able to just sit with someone and enjoy their company. To be able to do nothing and still have fun. As much as I love the sex, and I really, really love it, what I like to do most is just sit and talk with him. He comes over, lies if the food I tried to make turns out terribly, and then tells me about his day. It’s nothing exciting or over-the-top, and I think that’s what I love about it. It’s comfortable.
Most of my life was spent walking on eggshells and just accepting being uncomfortable pretty much everywhere. Literally as well as emotionally.
The furniture, for example, is never comfortable in the fanciest of houses. Comfortable isn’t regal. The only reason I came to like having such couches in my home with Kevin was that it ensured guests didn’t stay longer than I could handle. It gave them a reason to excuse themselves and say their goodbyes.
Mama and I talked all the time like Rhett and I do, but we never had deep conversations. Talking about our days always felt like a competition. Who did more? Which one of us achieved some invisible goal I wasn’t aware of?
And then there’s Kevin. I’m not sure we had anything other than superficial conversations, and he’d mostly talkatme. He’d tell me about work and his day, but mostly it was bragging or gossiping. I didn’t mind the gossiping. It was the only interestingthing about him, and it gave me an imaginary leg up on everyone else.
Everyone told him things because they knew he could keep secrets, but they didn’t know the reason for that was because he had me to tell them to. He knew that between the way Mama raised me mixed with my avoidance of confrontation, I’d never say anything. But I still got a small sense of power knowing I could ruin half of the elite acting all high and mighty at whatever function I was dragged to.
“Do you have a suggestion for a place to buy a new car?” I ask, his fingers gently playing with the lace on my panties.
His skin catches on the fabric, and I know it snags. With his touch so close to where I want it, I don’t even care. I wouldn’t care if he tore them open to get to what we both desire. It’s happened twice, and luckily, they weren’t my favorite panties. It’s such a heady feeling to know we were in such a rush that slipping them off felt like it would take too long.
“What kind of car are you lookin’ for?”
Shrugging, I rest my head on his arm as we bounce a bit on the rough terrain, his fingers rubbing my clit as we do. “What do you suggest?”
His touch shoots electrical currents through all of my limbs, and no matter how much I get of him, I only seem to crave him that much more. It’s so foreign to want someone as much as I do Rhett. And scary.
If there’s ever a time where I don’t have him, I know I’ll experience withdrawal similar to Kevin’s mom detoxing. I may never recover if that happens. Not after experiencing the highs he brings me.
Luckily, once he comes into contact with my need, he doesn’t pull away. His fingers slide into my panties and roll my clit between them, making me moan. “My brother-in-law sells Jeeps.”
“Done,” I say, spreading my legs wider as we come to a stop. “Just tell me where to go next week, and I will.”
“You know how I feel about you drivin’ on those tires, so I’ll feel much better if you have somethin’ more reliable,” he growls and turns to me. His fingers never relent, and I love how intensely he stares at me. “This isn’t what I had planned, but now that I have you started, I might as well finish.”
Thank you, God!
Laying me down on the seat, he kisses me as his hand dips down and thrust his fingers inside me. He grinds his palm along my clit, and I whimper as he continues to bring me to the edge.
It didn’t take Rhett long to learn which buttons to push to send me spiraling like a tornado of pleasure, and no one has ever given me this much satisfaction. He can do things I can’t do for myself with his magical fingers, and I become putty in his hands.
My orgasm tears through me, and I cry out into his mouth as my body shakes. His cock strains against his fly as he presses against my side, and I want to help ease his discomfort. Make him cry out my name.
