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My mouth drags down her stomach. Over her hip. I settle between her thighs and look up. She's watching me. Propped on her elbows. Brown eyes dark. Chest heaving.

My tongue drags flat through her pussy. She drops back onto the pillow with a sound that goes straight to my cock. I eat her slow. Long licks. Lazy circles around her clit. Savoring. Her taste on my tongue is something I'm going to crave for the rest of my life.

"Rhett." She fists the sheet. "Please don't tease."

I push two fingers inside. Curl forward. Keep my tongue working her clit. Steady pressure, steady rhythm. Her thighs tremble around my head. Her hips roll against my mouth.

"Right there. Don't stop."

I don't stop. My free hand reaches up, finds her breast, rolls her nipple between my fingers. The combination of my mouth and my hands pushes her over. She comes with her back arched off the mattress, my name cracking in her throat.

Before the aftershocks fade I'm reaching for the condom on the nightstand. Rolling it on. Pushing inside her while she's still pulsing around me. She gasps. Pulls me down by the neck. Kisses me while I start to move.

Face to face. Slow. My forehead against hers, her breath mixing with mine, her hands gripping my shoulders. Every stroke pushes deep. Her hips rise to meet mine. This isn't the desperate, rough sex from last night on the couch. This is something else. Something that scares me more than the rough stuff ever could.

This is making love. And I can't pretend it isn't.

"I feel you everywhere," she whispers. Her ankles lock behind my back. Pulling me deeper. "I feel you everywhere, Rhett."

My thumb finds her clit between us. She's still sensitive from coming, and the first touch makes her hiss. But she presses into it. Chasing. I circle slow while I thrust, building her up again.

Her walls tighten. Her nails dig crescents into my shoulders. "Come with me."

I thrust deep. Hold. My thumb presses her clit hard. She shatters around me, pulling me over the edge with her. My orgasm rips through me so hard my vision whites out. Her arms hold me through it. Steady. Warm. Grounding.

We lie there tangled in my sheets while the cabin fills with morning light. Her head on my chest. My hand tracing absent patterns on her shoulder.

"This bed is significantly better than the shop couch," she says.

"I'm offended on behalf of the couch."

"The couch has its qualities. But the couch doesn't have a window with that view." She nods toward the trees outside. Gold and red leaves against a blue October sky. "Your cabin is beautiful."

"It's a roof and four walls."

"It's you." She traces a scar on my ribs. "Quiet. Solid. Everything in its place. Looks plain from the outside but the details are gorgeous."

My chest aches. Nobody talks about me like this. Nobody looks at the cabin I built to disappear in and sees something worth staying in.

My phone buzzes on the nightstand.

Ms. Shelly:

Good morning dear. Hope you're having a wonderful Saturday. Also Lina says Kennedy's car has been at your shop all night. The whole town knows. Just FYI.

I show Kennedy the screen. She groans into my chest.

"Small towns."

"You grew up here. You knew the risk."

"The risk of parking at your shop overnight, yes. The risk of your mouth doing what it just did, no. Nobody warned me about that."

My laugh rumbles through both of us. She tilts her chin up. Kisses the underside of my jaw. Her phone starts buzzing on the floor where it landed with her jeans last night.

Lisa:

Saturday lineup: corn maze opens at 10, axe throwing at 11, live music starts at noon. Kennedy, you're covering the craft booth 10-12, right?