Page 37 of Barbed Wire Fences
“Jael… don’t.”
My breathing escalates, my pulse hums and I know, something’s about to change between us.
“Hey, Lark,” Rhett says suddenly, his tone casual, but his eyes never leaving mine. “You still got that model train you’ve been working on in your basement?”
Lark coughs like he’s trying not to laugh. “Uh, yeah, man. Still building it. Looks like crap right now, though. The kids knocked over part of the station, and I need to order some new parts to fix it.”
“I’m gonna go show it to Jael,” Rhett says, his voice steady, but his gaze locked on me like this is a challenge. What he doesn’t realize is I’m all in on whatever this is.
My stomach flips as I glance toward Lark, who’s shooting a confused look at Lainey. He mouths the words “Jael’s into model trains?”
She swats his arm with an exasperated eye roll, but what they’re thinking doesn’t matter. It feels like Rhett and I are operating on some unspoken wavelength that no one else can tune into because they weren’t there for the years’ that we spent together just us two, growing up and making mistakes. They weren’t there when I gave him a piece of my heart and body I’ll never get back.
“Come on,” Rhett says, gripping my hand without waiting for a response. The touch sends a jolt up my arm as he tugs me toward the basement door. “Let’s go check out some trains.”
Chapter 12 - Jael
The air feels heavier with each step we take down into Lark’s basement, like it’s been waiting for us. Rhett’s hand swallows mine, warm, rough, calloused from work. And for a second, I remember exactly how that hand once felt on my hips, my back, my neck. It dwarfs my palm now, and there’s something dangerously comforting about that, something exhilarating too, like leaning too far over a ledge that catapults me back into my childhood.
I don’t know if I’m supposed to brace myself for whatever’s waiting down here or just give in and be swept away. My pulse chooses for me, racing ahead, and I decide that for tonight at least, to just let go.
Lark’s basement is darker than I expected, the shadows swallowing sound. Rhett flicks on an old-fashioned lamp, the kind with a pull chain, and its weak amber glow blooms across the room.
Slowly the space takes shape: a sprawling model-train world raised three feet high, tiny bulbs glowing in miniature streetlamps and windows, casting little constellations across theplatform. It looks like a whole secret town someone’s been building in the dark.
“Wow… you and Lark built all of this?” I ask, stepping closer to appreciate the design and details that are on display.
“Yeah. We’ve been working on it together for the past year. He wants to finish and donate it to the museum that has the real train that used to run through Whitewood Creek in it.”
“It’s incredible.” I take my time admiring the work while trying to ignore the way Rhett’s presence looms behind me, close enough for me to smell and feel his breath on my body.
“You look beautiful tonight, Jael,” he says quietly as his hands find my waist, gently turning me to face him after a few minutes pause.
His eyes are full of desire, darker in this lighting and his strong jawline is tense as if he’s holding himself back from doing what he wants to do.
I wish he wouldn’t.
I know that we’re both tipsy and dangerously entering the drunk phase, but none of that matters anymore. I’ve been thinking about Rhett and what’s underneath his clothes since the moment he burst into my mom's trailer home five days ago and Iwantthis. I want him. I want to get lost for a moment in the way things were before everything went so wrong and I’m sober enough to consent.
“You look pretty good yourself,” I say as I step closer to Rhett, my breasts now brushing up against his strong chest as he looks down at me. My nipples harden on contact, aching to be touched by him, wanting more.
He lowers his face, breathing into my neck on a sigh. “It's been a while.” His breath tickles the hairs on my neck. My heart’sbeating harder now and when he says, “It’s been too long,” I take his big hands in mine and press them into my breasts, squeezing his fingers to cup them tightly.
“Is this what you needed? Me to touch you?” he asks as his thick fingers take over, caressing, cupping, and squeezing me through my shirt.
I bite my lip hard and nod my head. “Yes. More please.”
Slowly, his hand snakes down to my waist to unbutton my shorts and peel them from my body. When they drop to the floor around my ankles, I spread my legs wider, giving him permission to touch me. He brushes his fingers across my underwear then dips lower, right over my opening.
“Fuck. I can feel how warm and wet you are through the fabric.”
He shoves the placket of fabric aside firmly, exposing me to the cool air in the basement before one of his finger’s swipes across me, parting me open, before gently slipping inside.
“Dammit, you’re so wet,” he groans. His head drops to my neck where he sucks on the tender skin there. Then his kiss moves upward across to my lips but never touching. One at the corner of my mouth, by my nose and near my chin before he slips another finger inside my opening and curves them, hitting me right in that spot that I can never reach.
“Yes, Rhett. Fuck, that feels so good.”
His palm rubs gently against my clit as he pumps his fingers in and out of me then he withdraws them, dragging my wetness upward to my clit and across it before plunging them both back inside as far as he can reach.
