FF: Something in Return (NC17) (2/4)
Title: Something in Return
Author: Ellie (windblownellie@yahoo.com)
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Rhett accepts Scarlett's proposition in the jail.
****
Chapter 7
****
When Rhett rolled out of bed, she wakened only long
enough to note his absence and the beginning of dawn
peaking around the curtains. As the door closed
behind him with a faint snick, she pulled the covers
more closely around her and fell back asleep.
She woke again when the bed shifted right beside her,
to the sound of a voice calling her name. Rhett's
voice, she identified hazily, what was he doing saying
her name in her bed. Then she remembered the previous
night's most improper behavior and wished she could
remain buried under the blankets.
"Scarlett, it's nearly ten. You need to wake up and
have breakfast now," Rhett's voice penetrated the
muffling layers of blankets.
The mention of breakfast tempted her, but the bed was
so warm and soft. She grumbled and burrowed further
into the pillows.
Without warning, a blast of cold air from the room hit
her as Rhett yanked the covers off of her. She sat up
at once, tugging down her nightgown and trying to grab
the blankets back from him.
"Rhett! Give me the blankets back." While she'd
caught the edge of the sheet, her tugs were not strong
enough to dislodge it from his firm grip.
"Breakfast in bed is so much better when you're awake,
you know," he laughed, tossing the blankets back at
her before stepping away from the bed.
She'd busied herself drawing the bedclothes back
around her so that she barely noticed Rhett's
movements until he settled himself onto the bed beside
her. He was fully dressed, shoes shining in the
sunlight that fell across the bed. When she'd settled
against the pillows, he placed a tray across her lap.
It contained more food that she could possibly eat--
fruit, eggs, bacon, toast, dishes of jam and butter,
and coffee.
"There's enough food here for an army!"
"I wasn't sure what you wanted, so I ordered you a bit
of everything," Rhett said, pouring her a cup of
coffee.
She took the coffee from him and took a tentative sip.
It had cooled a bit too much, but was real coffee,
better than she'd had in a long while. "Thank you,"
she said, replacing the cup back in its saucer and
reaching for a slice of toast. "Coffee and toast
would have been more than I'm used to."
"Well then I'm glad I ordered all of this. You should
get used to having whatever you'd like." He picked up
a piece of bacon and brought it to her lips.
She was startled by the gesture, but took a tentative
bite. As she chewed, she gave him a weak smile and
pondered his behavior. This was certainly not what
she'd expected from Rhett, not at all. Being brusque
and businesslike had seemed more likely from him, or
even sarcastic and taunting. But she'd never known
him to be gentle like this.
No, if she was truthful, he'd been gentle that night
they'd left Atlanta. She hadn't recognized it at the
time, and he'd then been an ass to leave them all
alone on the road. But he had come when she'd needed
help, had done the impossible and had calmed her
nerves even as the world was falling apart around
them.
"I can see you thinking, Scarlett." His voice
interrupted her thoughts, and she blushed and rapidly
took a bite of toast. "What were you thinking about?"
Before answering, she chewed the toast slowly and
studied his face. He was being terribly nice to her
and didn't have that hard, studied look she usually
saw on his face. Swallowing, she summoned her
honesty. "About how nice you're being."
"Oh really?" He took a bite of the bacon he'd just
fed to her, his eyes merry.
"Well, most of the time you're either businesslike or
sarcastic about everything. Even when I came to the
jail and needed your help you've treated things like a
business transaction. But since I've been here you've
been kinder to me than most men are to their wives."
Rhett laughed loudly at her honesty. "I suppose you
make a valid point. As I've said before, there's no
reason this month should be unpleasant for either of
us. You're here for my pleasure, and as long as
you're serving that purpose, I intend to keep you as
happy as I can."
His face had lost that merry, open look and she was no
longer able to read it. But she supposed it only made
sense for him to keep her happy to guarantee his
pleasure for the month. Yet, only last night he'd
seemed to be content for the pleasure to be hers
alone.... She shook her head, and taking another bite
of toast, but the thought from her head.
"I'll ring up one of the hotel maids for you, to draw
a bath and get you dressed. I want to ride out after
lunch and look at some property." Rhett rose from the
bed, heading for the sitting room. "I'll meet you in
the dining room at one."
When he left, she went back to contemplating his odd
behavior as she finished her breakfast.
****
The buggy waiting for them at the entrance to the
National Hotel was a vast improvement on the buggy
she'd left Atlanta in with Rhett what felt like ages
ago. It was sparkling clean and the seats were well
cushioned. The bay horse was sleek and looked like it
could travel to Tara with energy to spare. Rhett
helped her up to her seat before climbing in himself
and setting the horse off at a sharp trot.
Atlanta seemed to fly past. Rhett never took his eyes
off the road as he tossed a folder into Scarlett's
lap.
"What's this?" Pages threatened to spill out of the
folder, and she scrambled to keep them from blowing
away.
"Information on the property I'm going to look at.
There should be a pen and paper in there for you to
take note of anything while I'm looking around."
He was all business once more, and she pondered that
fact as he pulled the horse up just past the edge of
respectable Atlanta. There were the remains of a
house on the lot, but only barely. A few walls clung
to a shaky frame, without windows or roof, the chimney
toppled off to one side, many of its bricks carted
away by those who needed to repair their own property
but lacked the means to do so. Beyond the house, she
could see the razed remains of what had once been a
barn, and a few lingering fence posts and rails.
Noticing this, she realized the property must have
been a farm before the war, and must be fairly
sizeable.
A glance in the folder as she rifled for pen and paper
revealed that to be the case. Twenty acres, just on
the outskirts of Atlanta's building boom. When she
opened her mouth to ask Rhett why he wanted the land,
she realized he was already out of the buggy and
assessing the frame of the house.
"Scarlett!" he called, not bothering to look back for
her. "Make a note that the house should be easily
demolished with a minimum of labor."
For the next hour she struggled trying to juggle the
folder, pen, and paper while following Rhett about and
making notes. She thought the land was in terrible
shape and would now be little good to anyone as a
farm, but she also couldn't comprehend why Rhett would
want a farm in the first place. She had no chance to
ask him until they'd walked the property line and
returned to the buggy. Once more, he took the folder
from her and helped her up before climbing up himself
and setting the horse off.
"What on earth do you want a farm for? Didn't you
just tell me a month ago when I offered you the deed
to Tara that you had no use for one?"
"Had you been paying attention to the notes I asked
you to write, rather than simply writing them, you
would realize I have no interest in maintaining the
property as a farm." There was an easy smirk on his
face as he spoke, and she felt her hackles rising at
his old teasing.
"You try writing while chasing you across a muddy
farm! I could bare keep up as it was, let alone
write! And why would you buy a farm if you don't want
one?"
Rhett laughed then, and her frustration and came to a
head. She swung and aimed for his shoulder, but he
was faster. He'd taken both reins in one hand and
captured her fist in his strong grip before she'd
gotten halfway to hitting him. Refusing to let go of
her hand, he slowed the horse to a walk and stroked
one of her ink-stained fingers. "Temper temper," he
clucked. "All you had to do was ask what plans I have
for the land. No need for any presumptions with me."
She huffed, calmer now, but still displeased at how
easily he managed to rile her. "So what plans do you
have for the land, then?"
"Why, I'm glad you asked, Scarlett." The rest of the
way back to the hotel was spent explaining his plans
for the land. He told her that land prices were still
low, but as Atlanta was booming, they were on the rise
and the town was expanding outwards. If he bought
farmland cheaply now, it could be worth much more as
land in town a few years from now. She understood
instinctively this plan of his, and told him that she
only regretted that she had neither the foresight nor
the means to make it happen herself.
When they disembarked from the carriage in front of
the National Hotel, Rhett helped her down from the
carriage and said, "I couldn't have chosen a shrewder
secretary in all of Georgia, man or woman."
Both were smiling as they made their way into the
dining room, arm in arm.
****
Chapter 8
****
Rhett sat on the sofa in her sitting room, reading quietly.
Scarlett sat on a
chair, trying to focus on starting to knit a shawl with the soft
burgundy wool
she'd found in her room. There had been a whole basket of it,
with several skeins
of fine wool in a variety of colors, and nice new needles. She
was not
particularly skilled at knitting, nor did she find it
particularly enjoyable, but
it was something to pass the time, as Rhett was apparently not
interested in
conversing with her.
After stopping for the fifth time to undo a piece of her work
and fix stitching,
she dropped the mess of yarn and needles into her lap and
studied Rhett. He
appeared to be focused on his book, but she would have sworn
that he'd been
watching her as she was trying to fix her knitting. Vaguely,
she wondered what in
the book was so fascinating.
"Rhett?"
He looked up at the sound of her voice, a look of faint surprise
on his face.
Without a word from him, she could see his questioning look in
return.
"What are you reading that's so captivating?"
"An old favorite of mine. 'Utopia' by Thomas More."
She rose from the couch and took two steps to settle on the far
end of the couch
with her knitting. "Will you read to me while I'm working on
this? It goes ever
so much better if I'm not thinking about it so much."
He looked pleased at her request, that much she could see
clearly. She could also
see too that he had been taken by surprise at her request, and
also something
else, something that was not quite happiness, but seemed to be
related.
With a smile, he opened the slender volume once more and began
reading. "As to
their clothes..."
For long moments, the only sounds in the sitting room were the
ticking of the
clock and Scarlett's knitting needles and the warm timbre of
Rhett's voice as he
read. Scarlett found herself being drawn into the novel, almost
against her will;
books had never held much appeal for her. But the more she
heard of this utopian
society, the deeper a crease grew on her brow.
When Rhett paused and reached for a glass of water, she seized
the opportunity to
question him. "I suppose it makes sense for them not to place
so much value on
jewels and finery. But if all of them only have one outfit, all
the same,
wouldn't it be awfully dull? Not everyone likes the same
things, after all."
As she spoke, Rhett nearly choked on his water. For a moment
after she'd
finished, he simply stared at her. She was taking deep pleasure
in finally
shocking him speechless, even if she wasn't quite sure what
she'd done, when he
responded.
"That's an excellent point. The book was written as a satire of
the European
monarchies at the outset of the Renaissance, but in some ways
too it reads as a
satire of the very idealized societies it describes."
"Nothing's perfect, then?" She looked down at the tangled
attempt at a shawl in
her lap.
Rhett gave her a long, assessing look before he answered,
"Nothing I've ever
encountered."
He opened the tome again and resumed his reading. After a
moment, she abandoned
her knitting and scooted further down the couch to rest her head
on his shoulder.
Only when a teasing finger traced along the sole of her bare
foot did she startle
wide awake again. It took a moment for her to realize that she
was laying on her
bed and Rhett had removed her shoes and pulled a light blanket
over her.
"Wh--what are...?" She was never at her most articulate when
barely awake.
"Shh." Rhett's gentle hand traced up her leg to rest at her
waist. "Go back to
sleep, unless you want me to unlace your stays."
"Oh. Yes, please." She sat up, still slightly disoriented, at
the edge of the
bed. "But aren't you--"
"Not tonight. We'll have an early start with my agent
tomorrow." Unlike the
previous caress, his motions as he unlaced her corset were
impersonal and
efficient.
She rose from the bed and made her way into the dressing room.
Pausing in the
doorway, she turned back to where he was watching her. "You'll
wake me, then?"
"Of course." His reply was muffled as she removed layers of her
clothing.
When she returned to the bedroom, he was gone. For an instant,
she was sorry to
see that he was gone. Quickly, she pushed that thought out of
her mind and
settled into bed for a comfortable night's sleep.
****
Chapter 9
****
Waking, she became aware of a warm breath tickling her ear and a
hand gently
cupping one of her breasts. It was enough to shoot her bolt
upright in bed before
she realized it was Rhett.
He was laughing as she caught her breath and stared at him. One
hand still rested
where she'd bolted out from under it, and his long legs were
crossed at the knees.
He was half dressed, a white shirt and gray pants evidence that
it was indeed
almost time to begin the day.
"I didn't mean to frighten you awake, Scarlett."
"Then for heaven's sake, don't do that to wake me up!"
"You would prefer something less arousing?"
She flushed crimson and retorted, "I'd prefer you stood in the
door and called my
name and told me to wake up, like any normal person would."
"I tried that. It had no effect on you." He stood and offered
her his hand.
She took it and stood, trying to straighten her nightgown around
her before
heading to the dressing room.
Rhett's voice carried in to her. "I'll ring for a maid for you.
Meet me
downstairs for breakfast in an hour. My agent is meeting us in
the lobby at
nine."
****
Mr. Porter, Rhett's agent, was an elegant, balding man in his
late fifties. He'd
shown no shock at Scarlett's presence at Rhett's side, nor had
he treated her with
anything less than propriety demanded. Yet aside from required
pleasantries and
introductions, he seemed to take great care not to address her
at all.
Most of the day passed with her feeling like a shadow, taking
what notes Rhett
requested and following both of them all over Atlanta. She
didn't think she'd
seen this much of the city during the years she'd lived in it,
and certainly
hadn't walked through this much of it. It seemed to be
essential to Rhett to walk
around the perimeters of all the properties they looked at, and
her feet were
raising objections to doing this in new shoes. Due to the
presence of Mr. Porter,
however, she was reluctant to say anything to Rhett about it,
and instead
miserably trod along behind the two men, and removing her shoes
under her skirts
when they were in the carriage.
It was a great relief to her when late in the afternoon they
returned to the
hotel. Rhett helped her down and gave her a long look as she
winced when her feet
touched the ground. At that moment, he said nothing, only
tipped his hat and said
his goodbyes to Mr. Porter, who was already driving off in the
carriage.
As they walked into the hotel lobby, he allowed her to head
straight for the
stairs as he stopped at the desk. She didn't glance back, only
trudged slowly up
to her suite. As soon as the door was closed behind her, she
slipped off her
shoes and carried them back to the dressing room. With minimal
searching, she
found a pair of satin slippers and slid them on.
Just as she was settling onto the couch and propping her feet up
in a most
unladylike manner, Rhett opened the door between their suites
without so much as a
knock. It seemed like too much effort to glare at him, so she
simply stared and
waited him to speak.
He seemed unperturbed and quietly closed the door and took a
seat on the couch
next to her before speaking. "I'm having dinner sent up. It
should be here in
about twenty minutes. Are you all right?"
"Good, I'm hungry. And tired and my feet hurt and I feel like I
know how a dog
feels, after today." She shifted away from him on the couch and
frowned.
"How a dog feels?" The smile in his voice wasn't quite visible
on his face, but
she could hear the mocking laugh threatening.
"Both of you ignored me, except for when you wanted me to write
something down for
you. I felt like one of Father's retrievers, trailing along and
ignored until it
was needed to fetch something!"
"You're here to assist me as I see necessary. I didn't intend
to make you feel
unwelcome, but you're here to help me, not be a part of the
decision making
process. But I will try in the future not to ignore you."
She sighed, too tired to argue. "Thank you."
"Now, relax. Dinner will be here soon then we can go to bed.
You'll be happy to
know that the only thing I have to do tomorrow is meet with Mr.
Porter at two."
Rhett reached down the couch and pulled her towards him,
planting a kiss on her
temple. She did relax a bit then, almost smiling as his arms
wrapped around her.
****
Chapter 10
****
After dinner, Scarlett was feeling much better than she had
during the course of the day. Rhett had reverted to being as
pleasant as he'd been for most of her visit, and she still
marveled at the difference in mood a full stomach could make.
While Rhett rang for someone to take away the remains of dinner,
she wandered about his sitting room, giving a cursory glance
over a stack of books before studying the pile of paperwork on
his desk.
"Found something interesting?" Rhett asked, coming up quietly
behind her and resting a warm hand on her waist.
The simple gesture reminded her suddenly of his reference to bed
after dinner, and she tensed slightly. "Maybe. This is quite a
list of properties. Are we going to look at all of them?"
He pulled her slightly away from the desk. "I will be, yes."
His hands traced up her sides, and he stepped back as she
shivered. "Relax, Scarlett. As I told you Saturday night, I've
no intention of making this unpleasant for you. Sit down."
Warily, she settled into one of the chairs, watching as Rhett
went back to the desk and began shuffling through the pile of
books and papers. Just then, the door opened and dinner's
remains were whisked away as she tried to conceal a blush at
being seen in his sitting room, alone.
Several moments of silence passed after the servants had taken
away the remains of their meal. Scarlett sat uncomfortably on
the couch, trying to wrap her mind around the idea that she was
really about to sleep with Rhett. She'd steeled herself to the
idea on the train trip to Atlanta, had been prepared for it to
happen on that first night while she was numbed to the idea.
What had happened between them had been far removed from
anything she could even have imagined. Any proper lady should
die of embarrassment to even think such things existed. Yet
true to his word, the experience with Rhett had not been
unpleasant, and while she was troubled by the sentiments it had
evoked, she was willing to acknowledge, at least to herself,
that she had liked it. Yet there was still a lingering
trepidation on her part.
Rhett appeared to have no such worries. At the desk, he was
casually flipping through paperwork, occasionally pausing to
read. For several minutes she studied him at this task, and he
never seemed to spare so much as a glance in her direction.
When he finally did look up from the paperwork, he met her gaze.
Quickly, she looked away, brushing at an invisible spot of dirt
on her skirts.
"Scarlett." There was no one on earth who said her name the way
Rhett did, deep and warm, that could affect her almost as much
as his kisses.
Taking a deep breath, she summoned her courage and met his
steady gaze. While she could see some of the curiosity and
sardonic amusement written plainly on his face, she could also
see a genuine regard for her.
"Is this portion of our bargain still troubling you?"
She had never been able to lie to him, especially when she most
wanted to. "Yes."
Rhett rose from the desk and settled into the chair opposite
her. "As I've said, my intention is not to make this experience
unpleasant for you. In fact, I'd like very much if you enjoyed
it." His lips curved into a broad grin as he considered her.
"And tell me, Scarlett, did you?"
At his query, she looked away once more, to stare at her hands.
"I--I don't know...I'm not sure what to think about it, Rhett.
The more I think about it, the more confused I get. What you
did with me wasn't something decent people should even know
about! My mother would have been horrified at me, and for me to
say that it was something enjoyable..."
"But it would be the truth wouldn't it?"
"I'm going straight to hell for admitting it, but I did."
Rhett smirked. "You feel damned for enjoying yourself?"
"But that's not something you're supposed to enjoy! And
certainly not with someone who isn't your spouse."
Reaching into the box on the table, Rhett pulled out a cigar and
took a moment to light it. Taking a puff, he settled back into
the chair. "You remember when we discussed Utopia the other
night?"
"Yes. What about it?" She furrowed her brow in puzzlement as
she tried to reconcile the philosophy-dense book with their
indecent behavior.
"You asked what sense it made that everyone should wear the same
clothes, because not everyone likes the same things. If people
don't all like the same clothes, why should they all like the
same behavior?"
"But...no one likes this type of behavior! If anyone knew-"
"You just said you liked it."
She frowned. "Yes, but..."
"But, what?"
"I don't think most people like the same things I do."
He gave her an assessing look. "That's a very astute
observation, Scarlett. If you don't share the sentiments of
most people, why should it matter, then? Shouldn't your liking
it be enough?"
For a long minute, she mulled that over before answering, "I
suppose that it should be."
Rhett nodded. "Now, are you ready to go enjoy yourself?"
She mustered an uncertain smile as he picked her up off the
couch and carried her back towards her suite.
****
Chapter 11
****
Rhett set Scarlett gently down on her bed. His hands traced the
contours of her clothed torso, sending nerves tingling even
through the layers. When he leaned down to kiss her, she
acquiesced easily. Just the touch of his lips on hers was
enough to send effervescent sensations racing through her limbs.
When Rhett finally broke the kiss, her heart was racing and she
struggled to catch her breath. She was momentarily confused
when he moved away from the bed, but comprehension dawned as he
removed his cravat and coat and dimmed all but one of the lamps
in the room before returning to her side.
Gently, he slid off one of her slippers and took her sore foot
in his hands. She knew abstractly that Rhett was a strong man,
but it startled her when his powerful hands began to knead the
ball of her foot.
"Oh, Rhett, that feels heavenly!" Scarlett practically groaned,
dropping back against the pillows and closing her eyes. Rather
than the exciting tingles his kisses had aroused, the attention
he was lavishing on her feet suffused a gentle, relaxing warmth
through her body. That warmth grew as his hands roved from her
feet, past her ankles, and began to caress the muscles of her
calves. Her eyes flew open as several layers of clothing slid
much closer to her torso than she preferred.
"Shall we do away with some of these layers, Scarlett?" Rhett
grinned and slid his hand just past her knee before rising from
the bed once more and offering his hand to her. She felt
strangely supple as she rose from the bed with his assistance.
His hands took a lazy tour of her clothed from before arriving
at the tiny buttons down the back of her dress, leaving comet
trails of sensation across her body.
Quick work was made of the buttons, and her corset was loosened
almost as swiftly. Part of her wondered where he'd gained such
facility with women's garments, but she realized it was safer
not to wonder. She shifted her focus to the pleasant sensation
of a deep breath after her release from the corset, struggling
between modesty at being nearly naked before him and pleasure at
being able to breathe freely.
Pleasure quickly won out as Rhett's hands returned to her body,
massaging just where her corset had pinched. She relaxed into
the sensation, leaning back into his touch.
"You see, Scarlett," his whispered huskily into her ear, "how
nice this can be."
"Mmm," she responded. Surely, she thought, if he was touching
her like this, and their other experience hadn't been
unpleasant, this night might not be so bad. If only she could
divorce herself from society's idea of what ladylike behavior
entailed, she thought that she might truly like this.
That train of thought was halted when Rhett spun her to face
him, capturing her lips once more. This kiss wasn't like the
others; there was something inflaming about it, sending a flush
across her skin and her arms tight around his waist. She
gripped his shirt for dear life, certain that it and his strong
arms were the only things keeping her upright. Never in her
life had she experienced a kiss like this.
She kept her hands tangled in the fine material of his shirt
even when they softly broke the kiss, both struggling to catch
their breaths. Rhett kept one arm around her as he maneuvered
them to pull back the covers on her bed. Only then did he
loosen his embrace and allow her to sink onto the bed.
Before joining her in the bed, he dimmed the other lamp. There
was only the faintest glow of lamplight to heighten the
moonlight that played across Rhett's tanned skin as he casually
stripped down to join her in bed.
His lips found her earlobe in the darkness, and she tried to
relax into the sensation as his hand found her breast. His
hands were warm through her thin chemise, and sent trails of
sparks across her skin. She barely noticed as the other slowly
pushed up the hem of the chemise, exposing her bare skin to his
touch.
His hands felt so soft as he slid the chemise up and off,
carefully, almost casually, swirling over her exposed body. The
air felt cool on her skin, but she barely registered the
sensation as his mouth dropped to her breast, his tongue gently
teasing shockingly sensitive flesh, as his moustache tickled it.
She had no idea that she could be possessed of such feelings,
was torn between pressing his head to her breast and pushing him
away. Scarlett settled for resting her hands on his broad
shoulders, where she could feel the muscles at play as his hands
roamed across her body.
After what seemed like ages, as her skin flamed with arousal,
Rhett broke away and shifted them both to their sides, arms
wrapping around and pulling her close. Scarlett's perspective
shifted, too, as she felt him hard and warm, pressing against
her stomach. She was enjoying this, more than she had realized
was possible, but was still unsure about this final step, and
her body tensed.
One of his hands slid down between her legs as it had before,
lifting her leg over his hip, fingers then teasing lightly over
the flesh before seeming to find their target with precision.
"Scarlett, Scarlett," Rhett's raspy whisper found its way to her
ear as his lips teased her throat. "You like this, don't you?"
One of his fingers slid easily into her as another made random
passes over the sensitive bundle of nerves she'd never known
existed.
"I...I...." She tried to find words between the pleasure. She
pressed several kisses to the base of his throat before she
could manage a word. "Yes." The word escaped in a sigh as his
finger suddenly left her. Before she could realize what was
happening, she could feel him pressing into her. She pressed
her lips to his shoulder, muffling a small cry of surprise at
the initial penetration. Yet she was more surprised to find his
movements slow and gentle, nothing like the painful awkwardness
of her brief experience with Charles.
She took several deep breaths as he carefully slid into her, but
kept her eyes closed tight and lips pressed to his shoulder.
The sensation was so radically different than what she'd been
expecting it took a second for her to register Rhett's voice.
"Scarlett, darling, look at me." His hand slid to the back of
her head, gently insisting that she look.
With slight trepidation, she met his gaze, her hands still
firmly fastened on his shoulders. He was very still, and she
could feel tension coiled in his muscles, and even in the dim
light, could see something crackling in his eyes.
"Is this all right?" He shifted ever so slightly, and she could
feel him move inside her, pressing just a fraction of an inch
farther in.
"Oh," was all that escaped her lips, a mixture of a sigh and a
whimper. Scarlett felt too overwhelmed to provide more answer
than that, and merely pressed a quick kiss to Rhett's lips
before dropping her head back to his shoulder, where she
scattered a few more kisses.
That was apparently all the more reassurance he needed from her.
Slowly, he began to flex his hips, moving just slightly in and
out of her body. The sensation was similar to the one that his
fingers had evoked several nights prior, but much stronger and
more intense. Certainly more intimate. Gradually, she realized
that she could move as well, and shifted slightly to meet each
stroke of his, her arousal building as she did so.
When she felt she could no longer stand the intensity of the
sensations, Rhett shifted a bit and suddenly her release came
crashing over her like a tidal wave. She cried out and clung to
Rhett for dear life as her body seemed to take on a mind of it's
own. She was only vaguely aware of Rhett mumbling into her ear
and before sharply intensifying his own motions.
She felt Rhett pull her close against his body as she drifted
off to sleep, trying to untangle all the new feelings swirling
through her mind.
****
Chapter 12
****
Something was wrapped around her, and she couldn't run. She
struggled, but couldn't pull away from it. Tears stung her eyes
as she tried with all her might to get away, to keep running,
but she couldn't.
Through the panic, she heard a voice tickling in her ear, low
and soothing. It felt safe and familiar and slowly, the panic
fell away as she focused on the sound of it, repeating her name
and the same soft nothings one would use to comfort a child.
Awareness hit her suddenly, full force, and her eyes flew open.
She was resting against Rhett's bare chest, his strong arms
around her. It was he who had been speaking so gently to her.
She sighed and tried to pull away in embarrassment.
"Scarlett, it's all right." His arms tightened and prevented
her escape.
She refused to look at him. "Yes, I know. I'd just like to go
back to sleep." Even to herself she didn't sound convincing,
and knew from experience that she would most likely not be
returning to sleep.
Rhett's embrace loosened, and his hands began smoothing over her
back. "Do you want to tell me about it?"
He didn't press the issue further at her silence, just continued
to caress her back in the darkness. After a few minutes of
this, she let out a deep breath and began to whisper the
nightmare to him. "It started after we fled to Tara. But it's
only sometimes, when I'm tired but not so exhausted I can't
dream. At Tara, I'd work myself to exhaustion just so I
wouldn't have to dream it each night."
For a moment, both of them were quiet. Rhett's hand slipped
through her hair as she debated telling him the details of the
dream. If he'd said anything to her, she wouldn't have said
more, would have been more than content with the warm, soothing
tones of his voice. But it was her barely perceptible whisper
than broke their silence once more. "I'm in a fog, and it's
almost dark, and I'm running. I don't know if I'm running from
something or to something, I only know that I have to run. But
the more I run, the more lost and helpless I feel, and I can
never find anything in the fog. I'm not sure I'd know what it
was when I found it, anyway."
"Exhausting oneself to avoid nightmares usually makes them worse
when you do have them," Rhett whispered, close to her ear.
It was not the response she expected from him, though after the
last few days she realized she was never quite sure what to
expect from him. "You've had nightmares, Rhett?" She looked up
at him, and could barely make out the obsidian gleam of his eyes
in the darkness.
Before answering, he gathered her close and kissed the crown of
her head. "Yes," he answered simply, "I have."
She waited a moment for him to elaborate, as she had, but after
a moment realized that it was not going to happen. Tonight the
knowledge that something frightened Rhett Butler enough to cause
him nightmares would have to suffice. Somehow, it gave her
comfort and she gradually drifted back to sleep in his embrace.
When she awoke again, bright sunlight was seeping around the
edges of her curtains, and Rhett's hands were tickling her ribs.
With a fit of giggles, she was wide awake, trying to roll away
from him on the bed.
"Rhett! Stop, oh please stop!" She gasped out with laughter,
tangling in the covers.
After a moment he did, and pulled her back to him. When their
bodies came in contact, she was stunned to realize that they
were both still naked under the covers. She buried her face in
the pillow then, not sure what was expected of her.
Rhett kissed her neck quietly for a moment while caressing her
hip. "How are you this morning, Scarlett?"
She blushed and turned her face away from him. "Better than I
expected to be," she answered honestly.
"I'm glad to hear that. Not so terrible after all, is it?"
There was an edge of sarcasm in his voice that she couldn't be
bothered to address this morning.
"No, it wasn't," she answered quietly. She lay still and waited
for some cue from him on how she was expected to behave.
After a moment, Rhett pulled away from her and rose from bed,
letting a large gust of cool air sweep under the blankets. She
shivered and snuggled deeper into the blankets as he began to
dress. She feigned sleep until he left the room, her mind
racing. As much as she was worried about last night, Rhett had
been very pleasant about it. Shifting under the blankets, she
had to admit that she was a bit sore in places she hadn't been
previously aware of, but the experience had been a pleasant one.
How could he go from tickling her awake to being faintly
sarcastic so quickly? In one moment, he seemed to enjoy being
sweet to her and then next as if she could be anyone.
Her eyes flew open when Rhett returned to the room and settled
onto the bed next to her. "The maids are drawing you a hot
bath, and breakfast should be up after you're done with that."
He brushed a lock of her hair back from her forehead and stared
at her curiously for a moment.
"That sounds perfect. Thank you, Rhett." She tried to sound as
sincere as possible, wanting him to know that she did truly
appreciate how nice he was being.
Something flickered across his face that she couldn't quite
decipher before he leaned down to kiss her, deeply. She
suddenly felt very hot under all the blankets. Then, without
another word, Rhett rose and left the room. For another moment,
she waited in the bed, wondering if he would return, before
rising and quickly finding her wrapper. Surrounding herself
casually in its soft fabric, she roused herself and headed to
the bath, which was sounding better every moment she was awake.
****
Author: Ellie (windblownellie@yahoo.com)
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Rhett accepts Scarlett's proposition in the jail.
****
Chapter 7
****
When Rhett rolled out of bed, she wakened only long
enough to note his absence and the beginning of dawn
peaking around the curtains. As the door closed
behind him with a faint snick, she pulled the covers
more closely around her and fell back asleep.
She woke again when the bed shifted right beside her,
to the sound of a voice calling her name. Rhett's
voice, she identified hazily, what was he doing saying
her name in her bed. Then she remembered the previous
night's most improper behavior and wished she could
remain buried under the blankets.
"Scarlett, it's nearly ten. You need to wake up and
have breakfast now," Rhett's voice penetrated the
muffling layers of blankets.
The mention of breakfast tempted her, but the bed was
so warm and soft. She grumbled and burrowed further
into the pillows.
Without warning, a blast of cold air from the room hit
her as Rhett yanked the covers off of her. She sat up
at once, tugging down her nightgown and trying to grab
the blankets back from him.
"Rhett! Give me the blankets back." While she'd
caught the edge of the sheet, her tugs were not strong
enough to dislodge it from his firm grip.
"Breakfast in bed is so much better when you're awake,
you know," he laughed, tossing the blankets back at
her before stepping away from the bed.
She'd busied herself drawing the bedclothes back
around her so that she barely noticed Rhett's
movements until he settled himself onto the bed beside
her. He was fully dressed, shoes shining in the
sunlight that fell across the bed. When she'd settled
against the pillows, he placed a tray across her lap.
It contained more food that she could possibly eat--
fruit, eggs, bacon, toast, dishes of jam and butter,
and coffee.
"There's enough food here for an army!"
"I wasn't sure what you wanted, so I ordered you a bit
of everything," Rhett said, pouring her a cup of
coffee.
She took the coffee from him and took a tentative sip.
It had cooled a bit too much, but was real coffee,
better than she'd had in a long while. "Thank you,"
she said, replacing the cup back in its saucer and
reaching for a slice of toast. "Coffee and toast
would have been more than I'm used to."
"Well then I'm glad I ordered all of this. You should
get used to having whatever you'd like." He picked up
a piece of bacon and brought it to her lips.
She was startled by the gesture, but took a tentative
bite. As she chewed, she gave him a weak smile and
pondered his behavior. This was certainly not what
she'd expected from Rhett, not at all. Being brusque
and businesslike had seemed more likely from him, or
even sarcastic and taunting. But she'd never known
him to be gentle like this.
No, if she was truthful, he'd been gentle that night
they'd left Atlanta. She hadn't recognized it at the
time, and he'd then been an ass to leave them all
alone on the road. But he had come when she'd needed
help, had done the impossible and had calmed her
nerves even as the world was falling apart around
them.
"I can see you thinking, Scarlett." His voice
interrupted her thoughts, and she blushed and rapidly
took a bite of toast. "What were you thinking about?"
Before answering, she chewed the toast slowly and
studied his face. He was being terribly nice to her
and didn't have that hard, studied look she usually
saw on his face. Swallowing, she summoned her
honesty. "About how nice you're being."
"Oh really?" He took a bite of the bacon he'd just
fed to her, his eyes merry.
"Well, most of the time you're either businesslike or
sarcastic about everything. Even when I came to the
jail and needed your help you've treated things like a
business transaction. But since I've been here you've
been kinder to me than most men are to their wives."
Rhett laughed loudly at her honesty. "I suppose you
make a valid point. As I've said before, there's no
reason this month should be unpleasant for either of
us. You're here for my pleasure, and as long as
you're serving that purpose, I intend to keep you as
happy as I can."
His face had lost that merry, open look and she was no
longer able to read it. But she supposed it only made
sense for him to keep her happy to guarantee his
pleasure for the month. Yet, only last night he'd
seemed to be content for the pleasure to be hers
alone.... She shook her head, and taking another bite
of toast, but the thought from her head.
"I'll ring up one of the hotel maids for you, to draw
a bath and get you dressed. I want to ride out after
lunch and look at some property." Rhett rose from the
bed, heading for the sitting room. "I'll meet you in
the dining room at one."
When he left, she went back to contemplating his odd
behavior as she finished her breakfast.
****
The buggy waiting for them at the entrance to the
National Hotel was a vast improvement on the buggy
she'd left Atlanta in with Rhett what felt like ages
ago. It was sparkling clean and the seats were well
cushioned. The bay horse was sleek and looked like it
could travel to Tara with energy to spare. Rhett
helped her up to her seat before climbing in himself
and setting the horse off at a sharp trot.
Atlanta seemed to fly past. Rhett never took his eyes
off the road as he tossed a folder into Scarlett's
lap.
"What's this?" Pages threatened to spill out of the
folder, and she scrambled to keep them from blowing
away.
"Information on the property I'm going to look at.
There should be a pen and paper in there for you to
take note of anything while I'm looking around."
He was all business once more, and she pondered that
fact as he pulled the horse up just past the edge of
respectable Atlanta. There were the remains of a
house on the lot, but only barely. A few walls clung
to a shaky frame, without windows or roof, the chimney
toppled off to one side, many of its bricks carted
away by those who needed to repair their own property
but lacked the means to do so. Beyond the house, she
could see the razed remains of what had once been a
barn, and a few lingering fence posts and rails.
Noticing this, she realized the property must have
been a farm before the war, and must be fairly
sizeable.
A glance in the folder as she rifled for pen and paper
revealed that to be the case. Twenty acres, just on
the outskirts of Atlanta's building boom. When she
opened her mouth to ask Rhett why he wanted the land,
she realized he was already out of the buggy and
assessing the frame of the house.
"Scarlett!" he called, not bothering to look back for
her. "Make a note that the house should be easily
demolished with a minimum of labor."
For the next hour she struggled trying to juggle the
folder, pen, and paper while following Rhett about and
making notes. She thought the land was in terrible
shape and would now be little good to anyone as a
farm, but she also couldn't comprehend why Rhett would
want a farm in the first place. She had no chance to
ask him until they'd walked the property line and
returned to the buggy. Once more, he took the folder
from her and helped her up before climbing up himself
and setting the horse off.
"What on earth do you want a farm for? Didn't you
just tell me a month ago when I offered you the deed
to Tara that you had no use for one?"
"Had you been paying attention to the notes I asked
you to write, rather than simply writing them, you
would realize I have no interest in maintaining the
property as a farm." There was an easy smirk on his
face as he spoke, and she felt her hackles rising at
his old teasing.
"You try writing while chasing you across a muddy
farm! I could bare keep up as it was, let alone
write! And why would you buy a farm if you don't want
one?"
Rhett laughed then, and her frustration and came to a
head. She swung and aimed for his shoulder, but he
was faster. He'd taken both reins in one hand and
captured her fist in his strong grip before she'd
gotten halfway to hitting him. Refusing to let go of
her hand, he slowed the horse to a walk and stroked
one of her ink-stained fingers. "Temper temper," he
clucked. "All you had to do was ask what plans I have
for the land. No need for any presumptions with me."
She huffed, calmer now, but still displeased at how
easily he managed to rile her. "So what plans do you
have for the land, then?"
"Why, I'm glad you asked, Scarlett." The rest of the
way back to the hotel was spent explaining his plans
for the land. He told her that land prices were still
low, but as Atlanta was booming, they were on the rise
and the town was expanding outwards. If he bought
farmland cheaply now, it could be worth much more as
land in town a few years from now. She understood
instinctively this plan of his, and told him that she
only regretted that she had neither the foresight nor
the means to make it happen herself.
When they disembarked from the carriage in front of
the National Hotel, Rhett helped her down from the
carriage and said, "I couldn't have chosen a shrewder
secretary in all of Georgia, man or woman."
Both were smiling as they made their way into the
dining room, arm in arm.
****
Chapter 8
****
Rhett sat on the sofa in her sitting room, reading quietly.
Scarlett sat on a
chair, trying to focus on starting to knit a shawl with the soft
burgundy wool
she'd found in her room. There had been a whole basket of it,
with several skeins
of fine wool in a variety of colors, and nice new needles. She
was not
particularly skilled at knitting, nor did she find it
particularly enjoyable, but
it was something to pass the time, as Rhett was apparently not
interested in
conversing with her.
After stopping for the fifth time to undo a piece of her work
and fix stitching,
she dropped the mess of yarn and needles into her lap and
studied Rhett. He
appeared to be focused on his book, but she would have sworn
that he'd been
watching her as she was trying to fix her knitting. Vaguely,
she wondered what in
the book was so fascinating.
"Rhett?"
He looked up at the sound of her voice, a look of faint surprise
on his face.
Without a word from him, she could see his questioning look in
return.
"What are you reading that's so captivating?"
"An old favorite of mine. 'Utopia' by Thomas More."
She rose from the couch and took two steps to settle on the far
end of the couch
with her knitting. "Will you read to me while I'm working on
this? It goes ever
so much better if I'm not thinking about it so much."
He looked pleased at her request, that much she could see
clearly. She could also
see too that he had been taken by surprise at her request, and
also something
else, something that was not quite happiness, but seemed to be
related.
With a smile, he opened the slender volume once more and began
reading. "As to
their clothes..."
For long moments, the only sounds in the sitting room were the
ticking of the
clock and Scarlett's knitting needles and the warm timbre of
Rhett's voice as he
read. Scarlett found herself being drawn into the novel, almost
against her will;
books had never held much appeal for her. But the more she
heard of this utopian
society, the deeper a crease grew on her brow.
When Rhett paused and reached for a glass of water, she seized
the opportunity to
question him. "I suppose it makes sense for them not to place
so much value on
jewels and finery. But if all of them only have one outfit, all
the same,
wouldn't it be awfully dull? Not everyone likes the same
things, after all."
As she spoke, Rhett nearly choked on his water. For a moment
after she'd
finished, he simply stared at her. She was taking deep pleasure
in finally
shocking him speechless, even if she wasn't quite sure what
she'd done, when he
responded.
"That's an excellent point. The book was written as a satire of
the European
monarchies at the outset of the Renaissance, but in some ways
too it reads as a
satire of the very idealized societies it describes."
"Nothing's perfect, then?" She looked down at the tangled
attempt at a shawl in
her lap.
Rhett gave her a long, assessing look before he answered,
"Nothing I've ever
encountered."
He opened the tome again and resumed his reading. After a
moment, she abandoned
her knitting and scooted further down the couch to rest her head
on his shoulder.
Only when a teasing finger traced along the sole of her bare
foot did she startle
wide awake again. It took a moment for her to realize that she
was laying on her
bed and Rhett had removed her shoes and pulled a light blanket
over her.
"Wh--what are...?" She was never at her most articulate when
barely awake.
"Shh." Rhett's gentle hand traced up her leg to rest at her
waist. "Go back to
sleep, unless you want me to unlace your stays."
"Oh. Yes, please." She sat up, still slightly disoriented, at
the edge of the
bed. "But aren't you--"
"Not tonight. We'll have an early start with my agent
tomorrow." Unlike the
previous caress, his motions as he unlaced her corset were
impersonal and
efficient.
She rose from the bed and made her way into the dressing room.
Pausing in the
doorway, she turned back to where he was watching her. "You'll
wake me, then?"
"Of course." His reply was muffled as she removed layers of her
clothing.
When she returned to the bedroom, he was gone. For an instant,
she was sorry to
see that he was gone. Quickly, she pushed that thought out of
her mind and
settled into bed for a comfortable night's sleep.
****
Chapter 9
****
Waking, she became aware of a warm breath tickling her ear and a
hand gently
cupping one of her breasts. It was enough to shoot her bolt
upright in bed before
she realized it was Rhett.
He was laughing as she caught her breath and stared at him. One
hand still rested
where she'd bolted out from under it, and his long legs were
crossed at the knees.
He was half dressed, a white shirt and gray pants evidence that
it was indeed
almost time to begin the day.
"I didn't mean to frighten you awake, Scarlett."
"Then for heaven's sake, don't do that to wake me up!"
"You would prefer something less arousing?"
She flushed crimson and retorted, "I'd prefer you stood in the
door and called my
name and told me to wake up, like any normal person would."
"I tried that. It had no effect on you." He stood and offered
her his hand.
She took it and stood, trying to straighten her nightgown around
her before
heading to the dressing room.
Rhett's voice carried in to her. "I'll ring for a maid for you.
Meet me
downstairs for breakfast in an hour. My agent is meeting us in
the lobby at
nine."
****
Mr. Porter, Rhett's agent, was an elegant, balding man in his
late fifties. He'd
shown no shock at Scarlett's presence at Rhett's side, nor had
he treated her with
anything less than propriety demanded. Yet aside from required
pleasantries and
introductions, he seemed to take great care not to address her
at all.
Most of the day passed with her feeling like a shadow, taking
what notes Rhett
requested and following both of them all over Atlanta. She
didn't think she'd
seen this much of the city during the years she'd lived in it,
and certainly
hadn't walked through this much of it. It seemed to be
essential to Rhett to walk
around the perimeters of all the properties they looked at, and
her feet were
raising objections to doing this in new shoes. Due to the
presence of Mr. Porter,
however, she was reluctant to say anything to Rhett about it,
and instead
miserably trod along behind the two men, and removing her shoes
under her skirts
when they were in the carriage.
It was a great relief to her when late in the afternoon they
returned to the
hotel. Rhett helped her down and gave her a long look as she
winced when her feet
touched the ground. At that moment, he said nothing, only
tipped his hat and said
his goodbyes to Mr. Porter, who was already driving off in the
carriage.
As they walked into the hotel lobby, he allowed her to head
straight for the
stairs as he stopped at the desk. She didn't glance back, only
trudged slowly up
to her suite. As soon as the door was closed behind her, she
slipped off her
shoes and carried them back to the dressing room. With minimal
searching, she
found a pair of satin slippers and slid them on.
Just as she was settling onto the couch and propping her feet up
in a most
unladylike manner, Rhett opened the door between their suites
without so much as a
knock. It seemed like too much effort to glare at him, so she
simply stared and
waited him to speak.
He seemed unperturbed and quietly closed the door and took a
seat on the couch
next to her before speaking. "I'm having dinner sent up. It
should be here in
about twenty minutes. Are you all right?"
"Good, I'm hungry. And tired and my feet hurt and I feel like I
know how a dog
feels, after today." She shifted away from him on the couch and
frowned.
"How a dog feels?" The smile in his voice wasn't quite visible
on his face, but
she could hear the mocking laugh threatening.
"Both of you ignored me, except for when you wanted me to write
something down for
you. I felt like one of Father's retrievers, trailing along and
ignored until it
was needed to fetch something!"
"You're here to assist me as I see necessary. I didn't intend
to make you feel
unwelcome, but you're here to help me, not be a part of the
decision making
process. But I will try in the future not to ignore you."
She sighed, too tired to argue. "Thank you."
"Now, relax. Dinner will be here soon then we can go to bed.
You'll be happy to
know that the only thing I have to do tomorrow is meet with Mr.
Porter at two."
Rhett reached down the couch and pulled her towards him,
planting a kiss on her
temple. She did relax a bit then, almost smiling as his arms
wrapped around her.
****
Chapter 10
****
After dinner, Scarlett was feeling much better than she had
during the course of the day. Rhett had reverted to being as
pleasant as he'd been for most of her visit, and she still
marveled at the difference in mood a full stomach could make.
While Rhett rang for someone to take away the remains of dinner,
she wandered about his sitting room, giving a cursory glance
over a stack of books before studying the pile of paperwork on
his desk.
"Found something interesting?" Rhett asked, coming up quietly
behind her and resting a warm hand on her waist.
The simple gesture reminded her suddenly of his reference to bed
after dinner, and she tensed slightly. "Maybe. This is quite a
list of properties. Are we going to look at all of them?"
He pulled her slightly away from the desk. "I will be, yes."
His hands traced up her sides, and he stepped back as she
shivered. "Relax, Scarlett. As I told you Saturday night, I've
no intention of making this unpleasant for you. Sit down."
Warily, she settled into one of the chairs, watching as Rhett
went back to the desk and began shuffling through the pile of
books and papers. Just then, the door opened and dinner's
remains were whisked away as she tried to conceal a blush at
being seen in his sitting room, alone.
Several moments of silence passed after the servants had taken
away the remains of their meal. Scarlett sat uncomfortably on
the couch, trying to wrap her mind around the idea that she was
really about to sleep with Rhett. She'd steeled herself to the
idea on the train trip to Atlanta, had been prepared for it to
happen on that first night while she was numbed to the idea.
What had happened between them had been far removed from
anything she could even have imagined. Any proper lady should
die of embarrassment to even think such things existed. Yet
true to his word, the experience with Rhett had not been
unpleasant, and while she was troubled by the sentiments it had
evoked, she was willing to acknowledge, at least to herself,
that she had liked it. Yet there was still a lingering
trepidation on her part.
Rhett appeared to have no such worries. At the desk, he was
casually flipping through paperwork, occasionally pausing to
read. For several minutes she studied him at this task, and he
never seemed to spare so much as a glance in her direction.
When he finally did look up from the paperwork, he met her gaze.
Quickly, she looked away, brushing at an invisible spot of dirt
on her skirts.
"Scarlett." There was no one on earth who said her name the way
Rhett did, deep and warm, that could affect her almost as much
as his kisses.
Taking a deep breath, she summoned her courage and met his
steady gaze. While she could see some of the curiosity and
sardonic amusement written plainly on his face, she could also
see a genuine regard for her.
"Is this portion of our bargain still troubling you?"
She had never been able to lie to him, especially when she most
wanted to. "Yes."
Rhett rose from the desk and settled into the chair opposite
her. "As I've said, my intention is not to make this experience
unpleasant for you. In fact, I'd like very much if you enjoyed
it." His lips curved into a broad grin as he considered her.
"And tell me, Scarlett, did you?"
At his query, she looked away once more, to stare at her hands.
"I--I don't know...I'm not sure what to think about it, Rhett.
The more I think about it, the more confused I get. What you
did with me wasn't something decent people should even know
about! My mother would have been horrified at me, and for me to
say that it was something enjoyable..."
"But it would be the truth wouldn't it?"
"I'm going straight to hell for admitting it, but I did."
Rhett smirked. "You feel damned for enjoying yourself?"
"But that's not something you're supposed to enjoy! And
certainly not with someone who isn't your spouse."
Reaching into the box on the table, Rhett pulled out a cigar and
took a moment to light it. Taking a puff, he settled back into
the chair. "You remember when we discussed Utopia the other
night?"
"Yes. What about it?" She furrowed her brow in puzzlement as
she tried to reconcile the philosophy-dense book with their
indecent behavior.
"You asked what sense it made that everyone should wear the same
clothes, because not everyone likes the same things. If people
don't all like the same clothes, why should they all like the
same behavior?"
"But...no one likes this type of behavior! If anyone knew-"
"You just said you liked it."
She frowned. "Yes, but..."
"But, what?"
"I don't think most people like the same things I do."
He gave her an assessing look. "That's a very astute
observation, Scarlett. If you don't share the sentiments of
most people, why should it matter, then? Shouldn't your liking
it be enough?"
For a long minute, she mulled that over before answering, "I
suppose that it should be."
Rhett nodded. "Now, are you ready to go enjoy yourself?"
She mustered an uncertain smile as he picked her up off the
couch and carried her back towards her suite.
****
Chapter 11
****
Rhett set Scarlett gently down on her bed. His hands traced the
contours of her clothed torso, sending nerves tingling even
through the layers. When he leaned down to kiss her, she
acquiesced easily. Just the touch of his lips on hers was
enough to send effervescent sensations racing through her limbs.
When Rhett finally broke the kiss, her heart was racing and she
struggled to catch her breath. She was momentarily confused
when he moved away from the bed, but comprehension dawned as he
removed his cravat and coat and dimmed all but one of the lamps
in the room before returning to her side.
Gently, he slid off one of her slippers and took her sore foot
in his hands. She knew abstractly that Rhett was a strong man,
but it startled her when his powerful hands began to knead the
ball of her foot.
"Oh, Rhett, that feels heavenly!" Scarlett practically groaned,
dropping back against the pillows and closing her eyes. Rather
than the exciting tingles his kisses had aroused, the attention
he was lavishing on her feet suffused a gentle, relaxing warmth
through her body. That warmth grew as his hands roved from her
feet, past her ankles, and began to caress the muscles of her
calves. Her eyes flew open as several layers of clothing slid
much closer to her torso than she preferred.
"Shall we do away with some of these layers, Scarlett?" Rhett
grinned and slid his hand just past her knee before rising from
the bed once more and offering his hand to her. She felt
strangely supple as she rose from the bed with his assistance.
His hands took a lazy tour of her clothed from before arriving
at the tiny buttons down the back of her dress, leaving comet
trails of sensation across her body.
Quick work was made of the buttons, and her corset was loosened
almost as swiftly. Part of her wondered where he'd gained such
facility with women's garments, but she realized it was safer
not to wonder. She shifted her focus to the pleasant sensation
of a deep breath after her release from the corset, struggling
between modesty at being nearly naked before him and pleasure at
being able to breathe freely.
Pleasure quickly won out as Rhett's hands returned to her body,
massaging just where her corset had pinched. She relaxed into
the sensation, leaning back into his touch.
"You see, Scarlett," his whispered huskily into her ear, "how
nice this can be."
"Mmm," she responded. Surely, she thought, if he was touching
her like this, and their other experience hadn't been
unpleasant, this night might not be so bad. If only she could
divorce herself from society's idea of what ladylike behavior
entailed, she thought that she might truly like this.
That train of thought was halted when Rhett spun her to face
him, capturing her lips once more. This kiss wasn't like the
others; there was something inflaming about it, sending a flush
across her skin and her arms tight around his waist. She
gripped his shirt for dear life, certain that it and his strong
arms were the only things keeping her upright. Never in her
life had she experienced a kiss like this.
She kept her hands tangled in the fine material of his shirt
even when they softly broke the kiss, both struggling to catch
their breaths. Rhett kept one arm around her as he maneuvered
them to pull back the covers on her bed. Only then did he
loosen his embrace and allow her to sink onto the bed.
Before joining her in the bed, he dimmed the other lamp. There
was only the faintest glow of lamplight to heighten the
moonlight that played across Rhett's tanned skin as he casually
stripped down to join her in bed.
His lips found her earlobe in the darkness, and she tried to
relax into the sensation as his hand found her breast. His
hands were warm through her thin chemise, and sent trails of
sparks across her skin. She barely noticed as the other slowly
pushed up the hem of the chemise, exposing her bare skin to his
touch.
His hands felt so soft as he slid the chemise up and off,
carefully, almost casually, swirling over her exposed body. The
air felt cool on her skin, but she barely registered the
sensation as his mouth dropped to her breast, his tongue gently
teasing shockingly sensitive flesh, as his moustache tickled it.
She had no idea that she could be possessed of such feelings,
was torn between pressing his head to her breast and pushing him
away. Scarlett settled for resting her hands on his broad
shoulders, where she could feel the muscles at play as his hands
roamed across her body.
After what seemed like ages, as her skin flamed with arousal,
Rhett broke away and shifted them both to their sides, arms
wrapping around and pulling her close. Scarlett's perspective
shifted, too, as she felt him hard and warm, pressing against
her stomach. She was enjoying this, more than she had realized
was possible, but was still unsure about this final step, and
her body tensed.
One of his hands slid down between her legs as it had before,
lifting her leg over his hip, fingers then teasing lightly over
the flesh before seeming to find their target with precision.
"Scarlett, Scarlett," Rhett's raspy whisper found its way to her
ear as his lips teased her throat. "You like this, don't you?"
One of his fingers slid easily into her as another made random
passes over the sensitive bundle of nerves she'd never known
existed.
"I...I...." She tried to find words between the pleasure. She
pressed several kisses to the base of his throat before she
could manage a word. "Yes." The word escaped in a sigh as his
finger suddenly left her. Before she could realize what was
happening, she could feel him pressing into her. She pressed
her lips to his shoulder, muffling a small cry of surprise at
the initial penetration. Yet she was more surprised to find his
movements slow and gentle, nothing like the painful awkwardness
of her brief experience with Charles.
She took several deep breaths as he carefully slid into her, but
kept her eyes closed tight and lips pressed to his shoulder.
The sensation was so radically different than what she'd been
expecting it took a second for her to register Rhett's voice.
"Scarlett, darling, look at me." His hand slid to the back of
her head, gently insisting that she look.
With slight trepidation, she met his gaze, her hands still
firmly fastened on his shoulders. He was very still, and she
could feel tension coiled in his muscles, and even in the dim
light, could see something crackling in his eyes.
"Is this all right?" He shifted ever so slightly, and she could
feel him move inside her, pressing just a fraction of an inch
farther in.
"Oh," was all that escaped her lips, a mixture of a sigh and a
whimper. Scarlett felt too overwhelmed to provide more answer
than that, and merely pressed a quick kiss to Rhett's lips
before dropping her head back to his shoulder, where she
scattered a few more kisses.
That was apparently all the more reassurance he needed from her.
Slowly, he began to flex his hips, moving just slightly in and
out of her body. The sensation was similar to the one that his
fingers had evoked several nights prior, but much stronger and
more intense. Certainly more intimate. Gradually, she realized
that she could move as well, and shifted slightly to meet each
stroke of his, her arousal building as she did so.
When she felt she could no longer stand the intensity of the
sensations, Rhett shifted a bit and suddenly her release came
crashing over her like a tidal wave. She cried out and clung to
Rhett for dear life as her body seemed to take on a mind of it's
own. She was only vaguely aware of Rhett mumbling into her ear
and before sharply intensifying his own motions.
She felt Rhett pull her close against his body as she drifted
off to sleep, trying to untangle all the new feelings swirling
through her mind.
****
Chapter 12
****
Something was wrapped around her, and she couldn't run. She
struggled, but couldn't pull away from it. Tears stung her eyes
as she tried with all her might to get away, to keep running,
but she couldn't.
Through the panic, she heard a voice tickling in her ear, low
and soothing. It felt safe and familiar and slowly, the panic
fell away as she focused on the sound of it, repeating her name
and the same soft nothings one would use to comfort a child.
Awareness hit her suddenly, full force, and her eyes flew open.
She was resting against Rhett's bare chest, his strong arms
around her. It was he who had been speaking so gently to her.
She sighed and tried to pull away in embarrassment.
"Scarlett, it's all right." His arms tightened and prevented
her escape.
She refused to look at him. "Yes, I know. I'd just like to go
back to sleep." Even to herself she didn't sound convincing,
and knew from experience that she would most likely not be
returning to sleep.
Rhett's embrace loosened, and his hands began smoothing over her
back. "Do you want to tell me about it?"
He didn't press the issue further at her silence, just continued
to caress her back in the darkness. After a few minutes of
this, she let out a deep breath and began to whisper the
nightmare to him. "It started after we fled to Tara. But it's
only sometimes, when I'm tired but not so exhausted I can't
dream. At Tara, I'd work myself to exhaustion just so I
wouldn't have to dream it each night."
For a moment, both of them were quiet. Rhett's hand slipped
through her hair as she debated telling him the details of the
dream. If he'd said anything to her, she wouldn't have said
more, would have been more than content with the warm, soothing
tones of his voice. But it was her barely perceptible whisper
than broke their silence once more. "I'm in a fog, and it's
almost dark, and I'm running. I don't know if I'm running from
something or to something, I only know that I have to run. But
the more I run, the more lost and helpless I feel, and I can
never find anything in the fog. I'm not sure I'd know what it
was when I found it, anyway."
"Exhausting oneself to avoid nightmares usually makes them worse
when you do have them," Rhett whispered, close to her ear.
It was not the response she expected from him, though after the
last few days she realized she was never quite sure what to
expect from him. "You've had nightmares, Rhett?" She looked up
at him, and could barely make out the obsidian gleam of his eyes
in the darkness.
Before answering, he gathered her close and kissed the crown of
her head. "Yes," he answered simply, "I have."
She waited a moment for him to elaborate, as she had, but after
a moment realized that it was not going to happen. Tonight the
knowledge that something frightened Rhett Butler enough to cause
him nightmares would have to suffice. Somehow, it gave her
comfort and she gradually drifted back to sleep in his embrace.
When she awoke again, bright sunlight was seeping around the
edges of her curtains, and Rhett's hands were tickling her ribs.
With a fit of giggles, she was wide awake, trying to roll away
from him on the bed.
"Rhett! Stop, oh please stop!" She gasped out with laughter,
tangling in the covers.
After a moment he did, and pulled her back to him. When their
bodies came in contact, she was stunned to realize that they
were both still naked under the covers. She buried her face in
the pillow then, not sure what was expected of her.
Rhett kissed her neck quietly for a moment while caressing her
hip. "How are you this morning, Scarlett?"
She blushed and turned her face away from him. "Better than I
expected to be," she answered honestly.
"I'm glad to hear that. Not so terrible after all, is it?"
There was an edge of sarcasm in his voice that she couldn't be
bothered to address this morning.
"No, it wasn't," she answered quietly. She lay still and waited
for some cue from him on how she was expected to behave.
After a moment, Rhett pulled away from her and rose from bed,
letting a large gust of cool air sweep under the blankets. She
shivered and snuggled deeper into the blankets as he began to
dress. She feigned sleep until he left the room, her mind
racing. As much as she was worried about last night, Rhett had
been very pleasant about it. Shifting under the blankets, she
had to admit that she was a bit sore in places she hadn't been
previously aware of, but the experience had been a pleasant one.
How could he go from tickling her awake to being faintly
sarcastic so quickly? In one moment, he seemed to enjoy being
sweet to her and then next as if she could be anyone.
Her eyes flew open when Rhett returned to the room and settled
onto the bed next to her. "The maids are drawing you a hot
bath, and breakfast should be up after you're done with that."
He brushed a lock of her hair back from her forehead and stared
at her curiously for a moment.
"That sounds perfect. Thank you, Rhett." She tried to sound as
sincere as possible, wanting him to know that she did truly
appreciate how nice he was being.
Something flickered across his face that she couldn't quite
decipher before he leaned down to kiss her, deeply. She
suddenly felt very hot under all the blankets. Then, without
another word, Rhett rose and left the room. For another moment,
she waited in the bed, wondering if he would return, before
rising and quickly finding her wrapper. Surrounding herself
casually in its soft fabric, she roused herself and headed to
the bath, which was sounding better every moment she was awake.
****