Page 69 of Against The Tide

“Come on, sunshine. It’s sexy as hell when you curse. You can say shit…”

“Stop it!”

Shaking his head, Rhett frees my bottom lip from my teeth. Eyes focused on my mouth, he teases, “Say shit again, Avery.”

“No.”

“Okay then, try fuck instead.”

The sound of the curse has my eyes flashing to his as heat twists low in my belly. I can barely breathe as his hand closes lightly around my neck and strokes up my throat to cup the side of my face to his shoulder as we continue, caught in each other’s stare.

“Fuck, Avery, say it…” I shake my head, and Rhett repeats, slow and deliberate, “Fuck.”

“You’re such a child.”

“There’s nothing childish about what that innocent-looking flush is doing to me. Or those trembling breaths of yours.” I almost choke on my pooling spit when his hand traces down my throat to the low neckline of my dress, his fingertips ghosting over the thick lace covering my breasts. “Nothing childish at all, sweetheart.”

“Fuck…” The breathless sigh escapes me.

“You have no idea how much I want to,” he purrs with a sexy rasp to his voice that makes gooseflesh prickle my skin…all over.

With my heart going berserk in my chest, I close my eyes as Rhett kisses me slow and measured. His hand roves down to my waist and squeezes, bringing me flush to him so that his erection presses to the base of my back.

“You have no idea of all the ways I want to taste you,” he murmurs over my lips, licking across the seam with a guttural groan when I squirm between his thighs. “You’re driving me insane.”

I can’t think coherently enough to retort. All I can do is swallow down the butterflies that flutter up from my belly at the thought that Rhett Reynolds is crazy over me. And while I’m rendered speechless, he pulls away with a grin.

That gorgeous, cocky smirk that makes me breathless. I watch as he pulls the hamper closer to us and opens it up.

“So.” He clears his throat. “Date.”

“Mmhmm.” I nod as he cocks his head to the side, studying me. “What?”

“It’s been a long, shit day, but it doesn’t matter anymore. You’ve made it better.”

There he goes with the corny line that totally gets me; however, I don’t want to make light of it right now. Rhett’s been there for me since the night he walked into Rowan’s office and I was battered and bruised. Literally and figuratively. From the inside out. Right now, I want him to know that I’m here, and I want to be what he needs, and not only in a physical way.

“Want to talk about it?”

“No way.” Rhett bites my shoulder softly, making my head loll back onto his shoulder as a moan pushes from the pit of my stomach.

“How about you tell me about your crappy day,” I suggest, spinning to face him. “And I’ll tell you about my good day and we can level it out?”

“It’s nothing new for me—it just sucks when I lose a patient. Even if it was a gamble to begin with, I always go into the OR with the expectation of leaving it with a live patient and successful procedure.”

“But you’re still a great doctor, and tomorrow you’ll fix someone else up and the day after. You can’t fix something that’s beyond repair.”

“No, you can’t.”

“And yet, you still tried. How many other surgeons would do that? It says a lot about you and the care you have for your patients that one would be willing to risk what little they had of their life for a chance that you might give them more.”

“Are you going to tell me about your good day? I like it when you tell me about the things that make you happy. The joy shines right out of you, and it’s fucking precious.”

Inching forward, he brushes through the tendrils framing my face, making my chest threaten to burst with tangible affection.

“Can I ask you something?” I venture when he pulls back to offer me a Tupperware with grapes.

“Sure.”