Chapter 23

His ambition doesn't come as a surprise, not with the way he's been flirting with me. Rhett has made his interest in me known since the beginning. My concern is with how long it will last. Will he still want me after his leg heals? Will he still want me when his confidence returns? What about when he moves on from the Black Mountain Tavern to wherever it is he's going next in life? Will he still want me then?

Would Rhett fight for me?

Could we weather a storm through thick and thin?

I guess we'll find out because I've already decided to take a gamble on him. On us .

I love the way he's looking at me right now, with that heat in his eyes that almost turns them emerald. His wet hair appears even darker, almost black, and those dimples. Fuck me, those dimples. "Why don't you sit on my lap, soldier, and practice on me?"

I can see his hand beneath the water, wrapping around his cock as he teases my lips. He's going to leave marks on my neck. Rhett straddles my lap, facing me. He brushes his lips over mine, as soft as a whisper, teasing me with his kissable smile. A dark curl falls over his forehead. God, I could just buck my hips and push right up inside him, grab onto his shoulders and fuck him hard and fast. I want to tear his neck up with my teeth and lips so that when he drops by Randall Mallory's flight school, that fucker doesn't get any ideas.

Rhett slides his thumbs over my nipples, teasing the hard peaks. The playful grin on his face tells me how pleasurable he finds it. He traces over the tat on my shoulder—two snakes intertwined over an M4 assault rifle capped with a white rose, my take on the caduceus, combining the combat medic and Army nursing symbols.

"I love this," he murmurs, dropping his lips to my skin. He sucks hard, leaving a purple bruise over the black ink.

"Embrace the past, engage the present, envision the future," I repeat from memory.

"The Army Nursing Corp motto," he smirks. "I guess you could apply that to anythin'. Is that what we're doin'? Engaging the present?"

"It doesn't take a genius to envision the future," I tease, playing along. "In about ten minutes, we're going to end up in my bedroom."

"You're gonna make me wait ten more minutes?" He suckles the hollow of my throat, making my cock pulse like it has a heartbeat.

He has a point. Why wait? We both want this. With Rhett straddled across my hips, I stand, sliding my hands beneath his ass to support his weight. It's an awkward struggle to climb out of the tub like this, but I want him in my arms. We trail through the open glass door, leaving a dripping mess in our wake as I head to my bedroom.

I drop Rhett on the bed, taking in his wet, sprawled, naked body. His skin is covered in tattoos and scars that tell the story of his life.

He's beautiful. Gorgeous. Tempting as sin.

His shoulder sports the silhouette of a paratrooper with the double-A Airborne logo and motto, ‘ All the way .' It describes Rhett to a T. He's all in with everything in life, all the way. No fear, no reservations, just balls to the wall.

Was I like that at twenty-three? Invincible? Before life kicked me in the ass and taught me to slow the fuck down.

"You gonna draw me, or fuck me?" His smart mouth begs to get stuffed.

"Which would you prefer?"

"I want you to fuck me. Should I turn over?"

"As tempting as that is, I want you just like this."

Rhett fists his cock, stroking it slowly to tempt me, as if I need more convincing. He draws out a clear bead of fluid that pools in his slit before spilling down his cockhead. Rhett gasps as I bend to lick it up. The salty flavor brings my taste buds to life, making my mouth water for more. The tight muscles of his abs ripple beneath the silken skin as I suck him between my lips.

His dick kicks in my mouth, a blatant sign of his arousal.

Nah, I think I'll play with him first, like a cat with a mouse.

Hovering my mouth over his length, my hot breath tickles his sensitive skin until he pushes at my head. My tongue snakes out to lap at his wet slit.

"Fuckin' suck me," Rhett begs, his head raised to watch me.

"Like this?" I ask, taking him to the back of my throat in one quick suck.

"Ah, fuck," he hisses. "More."

Slowing down, I take my time, savoring him, drawing out the glide of my lips over each vein and ridge. My tongue tickles the groove beneath his crown.

"I'm in love with your mouth," he moans, making me smile despite my stuffed mouth. "Does my cock taste good?"

Shit, if he starts talking like that, I'm done with the sucking and moving onto the fucking, real quick.

My answer is to suck hard on his inflamed head until he cries out. "Too much!"

Chuckling, I pop off his cock. "Turn over."

"Hell yeah. You got lube in your nightstand?"

"I didn't say I was going to fuck you, did I?"

"Then what're you—" He gets the idea when I run my tongue through his crease, licking over his hole until he clenches tight. "Oh, shit!"

Rhett's ass tastes fucking amazing. I could eat him for every meal. Looking up, I see the swell of his ass, the perfect bubble. I slow my strokes, lapping at him, driving him out of his mind until he backs his ass up against my face, begging for more.

"You're a dirty fucker," he pants, obviously loving it.

Swallowing his musky flavor, I crawl over his back, planting my knees between his spread thighs. My tongue traces the ridges of his spine, sending shivers throughout his body.

"You gonna fuck me now ?"

"Eager, aren't you?"

"For your thick, uncut cock? Hell yeah, can you blame me?"

I love hearing that. Rhett makes me feel like the world's hottest stud, the most accomplished physician, the most hardened soldier. He elevates me with his admiration, lending me just a small measure of his invincibility that makes me feel twenty years younger.

I'm still not ready to fuck him. When I get my dick inside his tight ass, it'll be a struggle to hold back, to last long enough to please him. I want to savor this, to draw out the pleasure for both our sakes.

Bucking my hips, I drag my cockhead through his cheeks, rubbing over his hole. My arms are under his, which gives me leverage to grind harder against his ass. The clean scent of him is in my nose, the smell of his evergreen shampoo settling over me until he consumes me—sight, smell, and the feel of him. His broad body is warm and hard beneath mine. Rhett fits perfectly against me. His ass lines up perfectly with my cock while giving my mouth unfettered access to his neck and ear.

"Feels like I've waited a lifetime for this," I whisper.

"God, at least six months," he smarts. My crown catches his rim and I push against his hole. "You're right, feels like a lifetime."

"Grab the lube from my drawer."

"Shit, yes," Rhett breathes with excitement. He crawls out from under me, reaching for the nightstand, and holds up a foil packet. "Do we need these?"

"Only if you feel we do."

"Fuck, no." He tosses it back in the drawer and grabs the blue bottle. "Don't use too much. I want to feel you."

Chuckling, I reply, "Either way, you're going to feel me."

Rhett spreads his legs wide. His hole is tantalizing—dark and smooth, with just a smattering of dark fuzz creeping near his rim. One more lick before swiping the tip of my finger over it. I'm obsessed with watching him clench at my touch. I dip my finger inside and back out, opening him up slowly. His channel feels like warm velvet. I wish my tongue could delve as deep as my finger. I want to taste him from the inside out. I'd devour him if I could.

Every inch of his toned, scarred body is magnificent perfection.

"Turn over." I stop him when he rolls to his side and prop his injured leg over mine, sliding my thigh between his. Wrapping my arms around his chest, I spoon him against my body and softly push into him.

Rhett gasps, his body going tense.

"Relax for me, soldier. Bear down."

"Been so long," he hisses as I set his rim on fire.

"I fucking hope so." Christ, he's squeezing the blood from my cock.

"Go slow at first," Rhett cautions, beginning to relax.

Softly, I sink balls deep, astonished by the incredible heat of him. "Like this?" He chuckles, turning his head for a kiss.

I take his lips passionately as I slide out of his body before slowly plunging back in. The friction grips my balls in a vise. His body is my favorite place on Earth. I never want to separate from him.

"Oh God, you feel—" he chokes on his next word, swallowing hard. "Make it last, okay?"

"I'll try," I grit, not making any promises.

My dick pulses inside him and he gasps. "Fuck, Riggs." His breathing sounds labored when I'm doing all the work. "I knew it'd be this good," he sighs.

We work up a good pace, falling into a faster rhythm where Rhett pushes back against me, meeting me thrust-for-thrust. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room with a debauched symphony. As badly as I want it to last, I can't make myself slow down. I chase my orgasm like it's as vital as my next breath.

Heat sears my gut, and the spasms start in my belly, spreading down my thighs. I clench my ass and slam into him hard, burying my cock deep within him as it begins to pulse; thick ropes coat his inner walls, marking him from the inside.

"Feel that?" I growl. He nods, unable to speak from his ragged breaths. "Come with me." I reach for his cock and jack him quick and hard until his stomach contracts and he shoots with a cry.

"Riggs!" Rhett's seed coats my hand and his chest, making a small mess on the blanket.

I squeeze him tight and breathe his scent in deep, getting my fill of him before I have to let him go. Dropping my forehead between his shoulders, I whisper, "You're worth every lonely night I waited for you and dreamed of you."

Rhett's head drops to the mattress with a blissful sigh. "Yup, every fuckin' one of 'em. You're so worth it." A minute later, he blurts, "Hey, you kept it!"

"Huh?"

"The eagle I folded for you. You kept it." He points to the origami eagle on my nightstand.

"Of course I kept it, soldier." A smile curves my lips. Fuck it, I'm keeping him, too.

When I walk into the classroom where we hold group, the guys are already working on their knitting, with the exception of Rhett who's folding colorful paper in accordance with the instructions in the book on his lap.

No one spares me a glance. Brandt and West are working on more green butt plugs, which they swear are Christmas trees… whatever. Jax is knitting a black skullcap, and Mandy is making an owl. I'm curious until I realize it's wearing a cowboy hat. For Tex . A Texan Hooters owl. Damn, he's got it bad.

"Hey, are we talking about our feelings and shit, or just knitting?"

It's a rhetorical question that I immediately regret asking when they all answer in unison, "Knitting."

Sighing with defeat, I explain, "BALLS is opening a gift shop in the front lobby. Margret Anne would like you to submit ideas for merchandise you'd like to see featured." The laughter starts up before I'm even done talking. "Can I finish, please?" I huff. "She wants to include things you want, which is sweet of her. Personally, I don't know why she even bothers," I finish, talking over their chatter.

"I want a shirt with the BALLS logo because I like to display my balls proudly," says McCormick, who's wearing a shirt that reads, ‘ HOW TO KNIT. 1. Stab it 2. Strangle it 3. Scoop out the guts 4. Toss it off a cliff .'

I know enough about knitting to understand it's a crude set of instructions for the basic technique. The shirt fits his personality to a T.

Stiles swallows his laughter and says with a mostly straight face, "Maybe some mittens with the BALLS logo because I like to hold them in my hand."

I glare, begging him not to continue with his bright ideas. But then Jax adds, "A hat with the BALLS logo." He holds up the skull cap he's working on, and I think, finally, a real idea . "Nothing feels better than balls on your head, like being tea bagged."

I should have known.

"You like getting tea-bagged, Jax?" West snarks.

Jax chuffs. "Not as much as you do."

"I wonder if they'll sell tea bags," Pharo asks, smirking at Jax.

Mandy sets down his knitting. "Maybe a stress ball. There's nothing like squeezing your balls."

"I expected better from you," I say disappointedly, pointing at him. He just laughs. "Are you all finished? You know, you used to be a respectable bunch of guys, but lately, it's like KinderCare around here." Explosive laughter erupts.

"Can you imagine the kid's merch?" Nash asks, picking up my daycare joke and running with it.

"A shirt that reads, ‘ My Daddy is so proud of his BALLS '," Rhett muses, snickering so hard he can barely spit the words out.

Shaking my head, I check my watch. Thirty more minutes to go, unfortunately. "I'll let Margaret Anne know you bunch are too infantile to be creative. I'm sure it'll come as no surprise to her. Maybe Brewer's addiction support group can come up with something useful."

Then the fun really begins. The Bitches unleash a torrent of terrible ideas.

Jax snorts. "Oh yeah, ask the recovering addicts. They have great ideas. Maybe a tote bag that reads, ‘ My BALLS say you can't come unless you're clean .'"

"Hit your knees and pray to BALLS for the answers," Pharo adds.

West doubles over with laughter. "Your Higher Power is in my BALLS."

Rolling my eyes, I get up and walk out as the chorus of snickers grows louder. Fucking idiots.