Page 143 of The Long Way Home
“Yeah, baby,” I whisper, brushing my mouth over hers as I let my hands trail down her. “I’ve got you.”
We move together, hips pressing, hands sliding over skin made hot by our need. Her moans drag me deeper. I want to feel every reaction, every breath that stutters, every moment she comes undone under my touch.
Because watching her unravel, knowing I’m the one who does that to her, is everything.
“That’s it. That’s my girl,” I murmur, letting her feel the weight of me over her.
Later, when the room finally falls quiet, her body curled against mine, I let myself breathe her in. I trace the line of her back with my hand, carefully memorizing every curve and dip.
And I start thinking that maybe one of those tiny, almost invisible fragments, one of those small moments that quietly tipthe scale and change the trajectory of my life, was meeting a guy named Josh Collins my freshman year of college. Sitting next to him in geology, laughing over a broken compass and a stupid lab experiment I barely understood. I didn’t know it then, but that tiny spark set off a chain of everything I am now. It would bring me to her.
Chapter Thirty-two
RACHEL
Rhett’s chest is warm against my back, and his legs are tangled with mine under the sheets. My shorts are somewhere on the floor with the rest of my clothes, and I’m pretty sure his shirt is still hanging off the edge of the bedpost where I pushed it hours ago.
I shift slightly, careful not to disturb the perfect tension between us, but I’m desperate to see his face.
His eyes are already open, heavy-lidded and soft. They find mine immediately.
“Hi, baby,” he murmurs, voice rough in that way that makes my stomach twist.
“I feel like you were just waiting to say that,” I whisper, lips brushing the warm skin of his chest as I nestle closer.
“Absolutely, I was.” His lips twitch into a small, satisfied grin. His hand slides over mine, fingers intertwining with mine. “I’ve been thinking about it for what feels like forever now.”
I tilt my head, resting it lightly on his shoulder. “And?” I tease, “Do I get to know all the thoughts swirling in that head of yours, or are some things private?”
“Some things are definitely private,” he admits, dragging his nose along my hair. “But most of them are about you. About right now. About how lucky I am.”
My heart flips. “Lucky you? I think we’re both lucky.”
He laughs softly, the sound vibrating against my ear, and I can feel the gentle press of his lips against my temple. “Yeah, maybe. Though I feel like I got the better end of this deal. I mean, look at you.”
I nudge him with my shoulder, grinning. “Oh, stop. You know that’s going to go to my head.”
“I wasn’t sure if you were gonna bolt,” he murmurs.
I laugh lightly. “I thought about it.”
“And?”
“And then I remembered how good your hands are.”
That gets a real smile from him. “Are you planning on writing a Yelp review or something?”
“One star,” I say, eyes meeting his, playful but warm. “Do not recommend.”
“Do not recommend? I could have sworn I heard a lot of ‘Do not stop’ thirty minutes ago,” he teases back.
“You’re right,” I whisper, letting my fingers trace the ridge of his collarbone, “and that’s why I don’t recommend. They aren’t for anyone else’s use. Only me.”
He leans down to place a soft kiss on my forehead. “Only you, Sunny,” he repeats.
I shift in his arms, turning so I can face him, my hand sliding up his bare chest. His eyes follow as I find his t-shirt and pull it over me.
“I know—yesterday, you really told me your feelings. And I didn’t say anything then, but I want to now. I want to be honestwith you.” He looks scared for a second, and I see the tension in his jaw. I squeeze his shoulders, giving him a little reassurance.
