Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

RHETT

T he engine purrs under us, but I'm not the one in control this time. My hands grip her waist, holding on for dear life, while she navigates the empty streets. It takes everything I have left just to stay upright, but she... she's handling it like she's been doing this forever. My girl. My little nightmare.

It's 2 a.m. The world around us is eerily quiet. The kind of quiet that gets under your skin, makes you feel like something's coming. And maybe it is. The cartel won't rest once they realize what happened tonight. But for now, all I can focus on is her. The way her body moves with the bike, the steady determination in every turn she makes.

She got us out of that hellhole.

The wind bites against my skin, every breath a reminder of how banged up I am. I wasn't in any shape to drive, and she knew it. Took the keys like she was born to take control, throwing her leg over the bike and giving me a look that said, trust me .

I did.

I still do.

We pull into her driveway, the engine cutting off with a soft rumble. The silence is almost deafening after the roar of the bike, but the hum of adrenaline still vibrates in my veins. It's only when she gets off the bike, when I feel the cool air hit where her body was pressed against mine, that I realize just how fucking wrecked I am. My muscles scream in protest as I force myself to stand, and it takes everything not to collapse right there on the pavement.

She turns to me, eyes scanning my face, reading me like a damn book. There's no hiding how close to the edge I am, not from her.

"You did good," I rasp, my voice barely holding. "Got us home."

She nods, not saying anything, but there's something in her expression. A flicker of pride. She proved herself tonight, and she knows it. Killed two men, rode us out of danger, and now she's standing here, calm as ever, while I feel like I'm about to fall apart.

Without a word, she takes my arm, guiding me toward the house. Her touch is steady, her grip firm, and I let her lead. I don't have much of a choice at this point. I'm not used to being this weak, this vulnerable, but with her... it doesn't feel like weakness. It feels like trust.

She opens the door and we step inside, the warmth of the house a sharp contrast to the chill outside. It's familiar, grounding, but there's something different now. Something about the way she moves, the way she takes charge without hesitation. This is her space, and she's letting me in. Not just into her home, but into her life.

I sink down onto the couch, every inch of my body screaming in pain, but I try to hide it. She disappears into the bathroom, coming back with a first aid kit. The sight of it makes me wince, not from the pain, but from the fact that she's about to take care of me. I'm not used to this. I've never needed it before.

But now? Now, I need her.

She kneels beside me, opening the kit and pulling out supplies with quick, practiced movements. I don't know if she's done this before, but she moves like she has. Her hands are gentle but firm, wiping away the blood, cleaning the cuts. The alcohol burns, but I barely flinch. It's nothing compared to the war going on inside my head.

She didn't leave.

She could have. Hell, I made sure she knew how to get away. Showed her where the gun was, the keys, everything she'd need to disappear. I was ready to let her go, to lose her if it meant she'd be safe.

But she came back.

Not just that—she fought for me. Killed for me.

I watch her as she works, my chest tightening with every second. She doesn't know what she's done to me, what she's made me feel. She's ruined me in the best way possible.

"You're thinking too much," she mutters, not looking up from the gash she's stitching on my side. "Stop it."

A low laugh escapes me, though it hurts like hell. "Can't help it," I say, my voice rough. "You... you didn't leave."

She pauses, just for a second, her fingers stilling on my skin. Then she looks up, her eyes locking on mine. "I couldn't leave," she says softly. "Not you."

Those words hit me harder than any punch I've ever taken. She couldn't leave. She wouldn't.

She stayed .

She fought through the hell we just went through, and she's still standing, still here, taking care of me when I'm barely holding on.

My throat tightens, but I push through the ache, reaching out to cup her face. Her skin is warm beneath my fingers, soft despite everything we've been through tonight. She looks at me with those wide, fierce eyes, and I see it. The same thing I've felt since the first time I laid eyes on her. The same fire that made her come back.

"Cara," I whisper, my thumb brushing over her cheek. "You came back for me, after everything."

Her lips part, but no words come out. She just looks at me, something unreadable in her eyes. I can feel the heat between us growing.

Without thinking, I pull her in, my lips crashing against hers. It's slow at first, almost hesitant. But then the hunger kicks in.

The need. And there's no stopping it now.

She kisses me back just as hard, her hands tangling in my hair, pulling me closer. I groan against her mouth, the pain in my ribs fading into the background as I lose myself in her. In the taste of her, the feel of her. She's soft and warm, but there's steel beneath her skin, fire in her veins.

I pull her onto my lap, her thighs straddling me as I kiss her deeper, my hands roaming her body. I can't get enough. I need her.

She pulls back for a breath, her chest heaving, and for a second, we just stare at each other. Her eyes are wild, her lips swollen, and I can feel the shift between us. The way she's looking at me... it's like she's made up her mind. She's in this, all the way.

"You're mine," I growl, my voice low and rough. "You came back for me. You killed for me. You proved to me that I can trust you, little nightmare."

She bites her lip, a spark of defiance flashing in her eyes. "I told you," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "I told you that I wouldn't fuck it up and that you could trust me. I couldn't leave without you."

She's right.

She did tell me I could trust her, I just didn't believe it.

I kiss her again, harder this time, my hands tugging at her shirt, pulling it over her head. She gasps, but doesn't stop me. Her skin is warm under my fingers, and I can feel her trembling, just a little. Not from fear, though. No, this is something else. This is need .

My hands slide down her sides, feeling every curve, every inch of her that's now mine. She leans into me, her breath hot against my neck as I kiss along her collarbone, and down her chest. Her fingers dig into my shoulders, and I can feel the way she's holding back, just barely.

"Rhett," she whispers, her voice breathless, shaky.

"I think I love you," I murmur, the words slipping out before I can stop them.

She freezes for a second, her eyes going wide. But then her expression softens, and she cups my face, pulling me back in for another kiss. "I think I love you, too," she whispers against my lips.

Those words are everything.

Her lips brush mine, tentative at first, but there's a heat behind them, a slow burn that's been simmering beneath the surface for weeks. The way she moves against me, it's different this time. There's no hesitation, no fear, no walls left between us.

She wants this. She wants me .

And that realization undoes me.

I kiss her harder, my calloused hands cupping her face, pulling her in like I'm afraid she'll slip away if I don't hold her tight enough. But she's not going anywhere.

Not now. Not ever. She's here, pressed against me, her body soft and warm, her breath coming faster as I deepen the kiss. I've waited so long for this. For her to be completely, utterly mine.

When she pulls back, her eyes are locked on mine, dark and filled with something raw, something fierce. "I'm not afraid of you anymore," she whispers, her voice trembling, but not from fear, from need.

Those words hit me like a punch to the gut. I've wanted her like this for so long: willing, eager, and hungry.

"Good," I growl, my voice low and rough as my hands slide up her sides, feeling the curve of her waist, the softness of her skin. "Because you're mine, little nightmare. You have been since the night I laid eyes on you."

She lets out a soft whimper as I pull her closer, our bodies flush against each other, the heat between us palpable. My hands slide up to the back of her neck, fingers tangling in her thick dark hair, tugging just enough to make her gasp.

"But now, I want to hear you say it," I murmur against her lips, my breath hot against her skin. "Tell me you're mine. Tell me you're my girl."

Her eyes flutter shut, her breath catching in her throat as she nods. "I'm yours," she breathes, her voice barely above a whisper. " Your girl, Rhett."

The sound of her saying it, admitting it, it drives me fucking wild.

I claim her mouth again, rougher this time, my hands roaming her body, desperate to feel every inch of her inked flesh. She responds with a moan, arching into me, her hands sliding up my chest, over my bruises, careful but insistent. She's not holding back anymore. She's not afraid to touch me, to please me.

And fuck, I've waited so long for this.

I push her back against the couch, pinning her beneath me, my body pressing into hers as I kiss down her neck, tasting her skin. She smells like sweat, blood and something sweet. My fingers dig into her hips, pulling her closer, until there's nothing between us but heat and skin and the desperate need to be as close as possible.

"You feel so fucking good pressed up against me," I groan into the crook of her neck. I bite down gently, just enough to make her gasp. "I've dreamed about this... about having you beneath me just like this, Cara. And now you're all mine. Every fucking inch of you."

She arches her back, pressing her body against me, her breath coming in ragged gasps as I slide a hand down between her legs, teasing her through her clothes. She's soaked, ready for me, and it makes my cock throb with need. I want to take my time, make her beg for it, but fuck, I'm hanging by a thread.

I was dying to claim her before everything we went through tonight, and now, knowing she stayed, she came back for me… The need to claim her, to sink myself so deep inside her has only intensified.

"You like that?" I whisper, my voice low and gravelly as I tease her, rubbing slow circles over her clit that make her squirm. "Tell me how much you need me. How much you want me."

Her head falls back, a moan slipping past her swollen lips as she bites down on her bottom lip. Her hips move against my hand. "I need you," she gasps, her hands gripping my arms, nails digging into my skin. "I want you to fuck me. Please."

That word, that begging —it shatters whatever control I had left.

I pull her pants down, my hands rough and urgent, desperate to get her bare beneath me. She kicks them off, her legs spreading as I settle between them. My hand slides down to feel her.

Fuck .

She's so goddamn wet, so fucking ready for me, and the thought of finally being inside her with out her protests, or her pretending she hates it, of claiming her completely, drives me fucking insane.

"You've been waiting for this," I rasp, sliding a finger inside her, feeling how tight she is, how perfectly she grips me. "Waiting to be mine, haven't you?"

She moans, her hips bucking up against my hand, her body begging for more. "Yes... fuck, yes."

I slide another finger inside her, stretching her, feeling her walls clench around me, slick and hot. She's so fucking perfect, and I can't wait any longer. I need her, all of her.

I pull my fingers out, and she whimpers at the loss, but I'm already unbuttoning my jeans, my cock straining against the fabric. I free myself, my hand wrapping around my length as I line myself up, the tip brushing against her entrance.

"Look at me," I growl, my voice thick with need. "I want you to watch while I fuck you, little nightmare. I want you to watch while the monster you fell in love with ruins your pretty little cunt. I want you to see what you do to me."

She opens her eyes, her gaze locking on mine as I push into her, slow and deliberate, inch by inch. She gasps, her hands gripping my shoulders, her nails digging into my skin as I fill her.

"Fuck, you are so goddamn tight, baby," I groan, my head falling forward as I bury myself inside her, my body trembling with the effort to hold back. I look down, and pull my cock out a bit, watching how her pussy swallows each barbell as I slide back into her. Her juices paint my cock, and the sight of her name glistens in the dim light of the living room. My girl moans, her eyes rolling into her head as I thrust myself in and out of her faster. "You like that, don't you? You like the way my cock makes you feel, the way only I can make you feel."

She's panting now, her body trembling beneath me. Her hips move to meet mine the moment I start to move. Slow at first, savoring the feel of her and how tightly she wraps around me. But it's not enough. I need more. I need her to feel how much I want her, how much I've fucking needed this.

I pick up the pace, thrusting harder, deeper, and she cries out, her legs wrapping around my waist, pulling me closer. I can feel her getting closer, her body tightening around me, her breath coming in sharp, desperate gasps.

"That's it," I groan, my hand sliding down to her clit, rubbing in time with my thrusts. "Come for me, baby. Show me how much you need me. How much you need your monster ."

She's shaking now, her body writhing beneath me as she teeters on the edge. I can feel her tightening around me, can see the way her eyes glaze over with pleasure, and fuck, I'm right there with her.

"Rhett!" she cries out, her body convulsing as she comes, her walls clenching around me, milking me for everything I have. It's too much. I can't hold back any longer.

With a growl, I bury myself deep inside her, my release crashing over me like a fucking tidal wave. I grip her hips, holding her against me as I come, every muscle in my body locking up with the force of it.

We collapse together, our bodies spent, our breaths coming in ragged gasps. I hold her close, my bruised arms wrapped around her like she's the only thing that matters. Because she is .

She didn't abandon me. She didn't run.

And now, she's all fucking mine.

I press a kiss to her forehead, my lips lingering against her skin as I say, "We can't stay here."

"I know," she whispers, before pressing a soft kiss to my pec. "Do we have time to get through dinner tomorrow?"

My little nightmare never belonged in a shit hole like this to begin with, but after what's gone down, after what she did to save me, leaving is the only choice. "We'll leave after Friendsgiving," I whisper, my voice rough with emotion. "Just you and me. We'll be free."

She nods against my chest, her body relaxing into mine.

And for the first time, I fucking believe it.