Page 43 of Rhett

He makes me feel good, makes mewant, and I crave holding on to that, grabbing hold and taking it in because it’s so damn unfamiliar to me.

It’s almost like that moment with Dusty, leaning against the lighthouse all those years ago, except with Dust, I can’t say who kissed whom first, but with Tripp, I’m the one leaning in. I’m the one dying to taste him…and Iamdying for it, in a way I wasn’t with Dusty that night. That had been all confusion and anger and jealousy. This is desire and connection andmore.

My lips press against Tripp’s, slow and gentle at first, testing the waters. He kisses me back, both of us delving and exploring.

My lips burn with the kiss, but in a good way, like sun against your skin when you’ve spent too much time being cold. Tripp is like a warm jacket in the middle of winter, a mug of hot chocolate in freezing hands.

I let my tongue sneak out and tease his slightly parted lips.

What am I doing?

What does this mean?

What if Tripp hates it? Hates me? What if this makes me lose him?

I pull back. “I’m sorry. I…” Jesus. I don’t even know if he likes men, and I never thought I did.

“I’m not sorry. I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now. I’ve been wanting you.”

Wanting me. Tripp wants me.

I smile and close the distance between us, taking his mouth again. The kiss isn’t slow this time. I push my tongue between his lips, and he opens for me, our mouths moving together. Tripp steps closer, pressing me between his wide, strong body and the counter, electrifying me in the best way.

My hands move to his hips, Tripp’s around my shoulders, his hand buried in my hair.

Our kiss is like a dance, a give and take. He lets me explore his mouth, taste every single millimeter of it, and then he does the same to me.

Each time we move, his stubble scratches against my skin, sending shockwaves of pleasure through me. It’s like an earthquake, with aftershock after aftershock rocking me to my core.

My head spins with so many thoughts, but the pleasure of our kiss takes them away. The hungry sounds Tripp makes that I swallow down, the tug of his strong hand in my hair, the way he rocks his broad body against mine, and…oh…he’s hard, and damned if I’m not hard to.

“Dad?” Meadow calls from upstairs, and Tripp and I jerk apart.

I’m breathing heavily, an avalanche of thoughts coming down on me now that I’m not kissing him anymore.

I just kissed my second man.

And it felt better than any kiss I’ve ever had, every kiss I’ve ever had combined, maybe any other moment I’ve ever had.

“I should go,” I rush out.

“Don’t go. Please don’t go.” I watch as he adjusts his dick. “Yeah?” he calls to Meadow, who is still upstairs.

“Oh, never mind. My sewing machine was stuck, but I fixed it,” she shouts.

“Okay. Rhett and I are going out for a bit. I want to show him a few things.” He’s talking to her but looking at me, pleading with me not to leave.

Why? Why does he want me to stay so badly?

“All right! I’m probably going to bed soon,” Meadow replies.

His voice is huskier than normal when he says, “Will you come out with me?”

I nod, not sure I can find my voice.

We put on our coats, and then I follow Tripp out the back door, along a lighted walkway, to his shop behind the house. He presses a code and opens the door, signaling for me to go in first.

I do, and a moment later light bathes the space. It’s warm, like mine, so he clearly has it temperature-controlled too. When he takes off his jacket, I do the same, sweating even though it’s not that hot in here.

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