Page 63 of Barbed Wire Fences
“I’m sorry I didn’t say them sooner,” I whisper, the ache in my chest spilling into my voice because I am.
My hands lift, skimming over the strength of his arms, the broad slope of his shoulders, until they wind around his neck. I pull him closer, urging him to meet my gaze. I need him to know how much I regret the way that things ended between us and how strongly I still care about him.
And when he finally looks at me, I see it, a tear, small but devastating, clinging to the corner of his eye. My words have unraveled something inside of him, a burden I didn’t know he’d been carrying for both of us and that makes me feel so much worse.
“You know, regardless of whose baby it was, I would’ve loved you. I would’ve loved it and raised the child like it was my own,” he says in a whisper. His words hit me with the force ofa revelation, even though deep down, I’ve always known this. That’s why I told Rhett the moment I found out… And why I never told Owen.
“I know,” I say softly, my voice trembling.
“Youknew,” he echoes my response, as if testing the truth of it himself, letting it sink into the cracks he’s carried for so long.
And then, unable to stop myself, I lean forward and brush my lips against his in a soft, grateful kiss.
It’s tentative, hesitant, like testing the waters after years of uncertainty. But he doesn’t let it stay that way for more than a moment. His hands grip my hips, anchoring me to him as he pulls me flush against his chest. His mouth claims mine with a hunger that leaves no room for doubt over what he wants now and that isme.
His tongue sweeps into my mouth, tasting, taking, reminding me of the first time that we ever kissed back when we were eighteen and he taught me everything I thought I knew about love and desire. When he shattered my expectations and had me changing all my plans just to spend a night with him.
The years melt away in his arms, my hands wind around his neck, pulling him closer, but this time, the kiss feels different. It’s deeper. Because this time, we’re no longer learning. We’re remembering. And we’re finally choosing each other.
“I’ve been waiting a long time to do this,” he says as his hands slowly slide between my legs and under the hemline of my dress.
I spread my knees, giving him wordless permission to touch me. He quickly finds the strap of my underwear that he drags down over my hips before tossing to the floor at our feet. His hands brush across my opening a few times before finding my clit pressing a rough thumb to it.
“Yes,” I moan as he moves back down and then slides a finger inside of me gently.
“You’re soaked already for me,” he groans, dropping his lips to my shoulder and kissing me there.
“Yes,” I moan. The slick feel of me against his hands causes my nipples to harden and Rhett doesn’t miss any of it. His free hand moves to one of my breasts where he cups it through the fabric of my dress and squeezes. “More,” I beg.
“You want this, Jael? You want me?” he asks and the way he says it has my heart aching.
I’ve always wanted Rhett, and I’ve never stopped. Things changed over the years between us, but that truth never did. He’ll always be my first, a memory that I’ll never forget, but he’s much more than a memory. He’s a man and the only one that I’ve ever trusted with my heart completely.
“You know I do,” I say.
“No, I need you to tell me, again. Tell me how much you want this. How you’ve been thinking about it like I have. Help me not feel so alone here.”
“I’ve wanted you since the moment you showed up in my mom’s trailer and scared me. The yearbook photo that I was looking at,” I hesitate while he pulls back to look at my eyes. “It was a picture of you,” I confess, the words spill from my lips easily and I have no shame in sharing them.
He pauses with his fingers still inside of me, his other hand teasing my chest. “We both know that’s not when you first started wanting me.”
He slides a second finger inside, stretching me so deliciously I grip his wrist and look at him. “Faster, Rhett. I need more.”
“Tell me when the first time was.”
I bite down on my lip, trying to use his wrist as leverage to ride his hand but he won’t budge. I blow out a steady breath.
“The first summer that I moved to Whitewood Creek.”
His brows raise but he waits for me to continue.
“When you took me to that old, abandoned church and climbed the cherry tree just because you knew I was hungry. And later, when we got back to my house and you realized my mom was at work, but my dad was home drunk you didn’t even hesitate. You could sense something bad brewing if you left me there, so you didn’t. You changed your plans without a word. You skipped hanging out with Colt and Maverick and instead took me down to the lake, where we floated on inner tubes and let the sun burn our noses while he passed out inside. You distracted me until the danger faded and you never made me feel badly about it.”
He stays still as stone, memorizing every word that I’ve said. I wonder if he’s surprised that’s the moment when I first fell in love with him. He shouldn’t be. The truth is I think I fell for him the moment I met him.
“Say what you said to me in Lainey’s basement,” he drops his lips to mine with a soft and tender kiss. Then he moves his face lower to one of my breasts. He bites at my nipple through the thin fabric eliciting another moan that falls from me as I arch my chest into his face.
“What?” I ask.
