Rhett
“It was my sixteenth birthday,” I tell her. I still remember how excited I was. “Jake and Christopher wanted me to pick them up so we could go cruisin’, but all I could think about was getting you alone.”
Mo buries her face against my shirt. “That was a great day,” she says, smiling up at me.
“It was.” I grin. “If memory serves, I made it to second base.”
“Pretty sure it was third.”
I know for a fact it wasn’t third. “Nope. Third base came on your sixteenth birthday when I took you to see Dirty Dancing at the drive-in.”
“Oh my God, that’s right! How did I forget about that? We spent the entire night in your truck. By the time we thought to leave, the movie was over, your windows were fogged up, and the entire place was empty.”
“When I dropped you off, your dad asked what we’d thought of Swayze’s performance, and I said—”
“Who’s that?” we both say at the same time.
Mo tosses her head back, laughing. “He was so pissed! He thought we’d lied about going to the movies, and he grounded me.”
“Worst punishment ever. I didn’t get back to third base for another month,” I scoff.
“And then you made it there, like, every day after that.” She swats my chest, and I catch her wrist, holding her to me.
I smile as I remember the first few days after she got ungrounded. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other. “Not long after that, I hit a home run.”
“Right over there on that exact same blanket. Only I don’t remember a picnic basket.”
“That’s because there wasn’t one. I’m older now, you see, and a lot wiser. I know how to wine and dine a girl before I get up to bat.”
“Oh yeah?”
Our fingers entwined, I walk Mo to the blanket. She sits down and crosses her legs while I pull out a bottle of wine and two Solo cups. I pour us each a glass and have her hold mine while I reach in for my other surprise.
“Whatcha got there?” she asks, trying to peer inside the basket.
“I knew the second my mom made apple pie that you wouldn’t eat it. You’ve never been a pie lover. You always said if you were going to inhale calories, it had better be something better than pie.”
“You remember that?” she asks, her eyes going soft.
“I remember everything, Mo.” I pull a small, pink container out of the basket.
“Is that from Sweetie Pies?”
I open the box, and Mo nearly swallows her tongue at the sight in front of her.
“It is. Apparently they removed their double chocolate fudge brownie from the menu a few years back—replaced it with a different brownie—but once I explained why I needed it, Sweetie insisted on making one.”
Carefully, Mo sets both glasses of wine down in the grass and reaches for the brownie. She closes her eyes and gives a soft little moan as she takes a bite.
“There are no words for how amazing this is.”
She holds the brownie up for me to taste, and we go back and forth like this until the entire thing is gone.
“I think we just ate our weight in brownie.” She picks up her wine and takes a hefty sip. “But it was so worth it.”
Seeing the look of contentment and pure happiness on her face—over a brownie no less—was worth the money I had to pay the bakery to dig up their old recipe and make the damn thing.
“It was.” I finish off my wine, tossing my glass next to hers before I scoot back on the blanket and pull her between my legs.
I lean back on my hands, her back to my front, enjoying the way she settles against me as though it’s her favorite place in the world to be.
The sun has begun its decent, casting a warm glow across the pond.
“Do you really remember the first time we…” her words trail off.
“The first time we what?”
“You know…had sex.”
“Made love.” I turn her face toward mine. “We may have been young—and in the beginning, we had no clue what we were doing—but make no mistake about it; every time I was inside of you, it was pure love.”
“We were right here, on this blanket with the sun setting, when we made love for the first time,” she says, turning in my arms.
It’s a memory I’ve pulled up several times over the years. “You crawled into my lap and told me you couldn’t wait another second, that you needed me more than you needed your next breath.”
“When we were done you…” She pauses, crawling out of my lap and over to the tree. It takes a few seconds for her to find what she’s looking for. “There it is,” she whispers, brushing her fingers over the carved bark. “When we were done, you carved our initials into the tree.”
I can hardly breathe in the intensity of this moment. I wish things were still that simple, that I could hold her and tell her nothing has changed, that I still love her. I want that to be possible, but it feels like a lifetime ago. Still, I’m happy to be with her now.
Several seconds of weighted silence pass, and when she stands up, my stomach sinks. I knew we wouldn’t be able to stay out here long, but I’d hoped to at least get through the sunset. Stacking the cups, I toss them in the basket, and when I look up to see what Mo is doing, all of the air disappears from my lungs.
There are a few moments in my life that have left me breathless—falling off a bull for the first time in competition, getting kicked by a bull, the day Mo broke my heart, and subsequently, the moment she stole every piece of it back.
This moment.
She’s an angel, brought to Earth for the sole purpose of torturing me, and like the devil I am, I enjoy every minute of it.
Pulling her hair over one shoulder, Mo peeks at me. Her cheeks are stained the most delicious color of red as she slowly, deliberately lifts her shirt over her head. The flimsy material falls to the ground as she reaches behind her back to unhook her bra. The straps slip down her arms before joining her shirt on the grassy bank of the pond, and when she shimmies out of her panties and jeans, I nearly lose it.
Her body is breathtaking, a work of art meant to be examined and explored, and I’m the lucky son of a bitch who gets the privilege of doing just that.
I’ve seen Mo naked more times than I can count, but not once has it been like this. Not once has she seduced me with the soft sway of her hips or this hungry look in her eyes.
She’s no longer the girl I knew all those years ago. She’s turned into a beautiful, confident woman who I want to lay before me again. She’s all-consuming: the rise and fall of her chest as she turns to face me, the goosebumps that scatter over her arms when my gaze traces her body, and the vulnerability in her eyes as she comes over to join me on the blanket.
I hold out my hand. Her fingers lace with mine as she straddles my legs and lowers herself to her knees.
Her hand, gentle and steady, cups the side of my face. “There might be six years of pain between us, but nothing has changed. I feel the same way today as I did back then.” She hooks her fingers under the hem of my shirt, dragging it over my head, being extra careful with my shoulder. “And I can’t wait another second to be with you, Rhett.” She smiles. “In fact, I need it more than I need my next breath.”
“Mo.” I push my fingers into her hair, pulling her face to mine, and I kiss her with everything I have. Her tongue pushes between my lips, and we kiss until we’re both panting and breathless.
With her forehead pressed to mine, she searches my eyes. I let her see everything—all the pain and love and happiness she’s brought me. With her hands on my chest, she gently pushes me back onto the blanket. Her hair falls forward, brushing against my chest, creating a curtain. She kisses me once, twice, and then a third time before scooting back. My boots and socks are the first to go, followed by my jeans.
I reach for my cock, stroking from base to tip, watching the heat flare in her eyes. Mo always did love watching me touch myself.
“You were right,” she whispers, slipping her hand between her thighs. “You remember everything.”
Oh fuck. She slides two fingers into her pussy, drags them out, and circles her clit. And I am fucking screwed. I’m going to blow my load before I even get my dick wet. Head back, eyes closed, and pussy glistening, Mo torments me, one stroke of her fingers at a time.
My dick swells in my fist, my balls cocked and loaded for release. She moves her fingers out of her wet pussy and positions herself over my cock. Inch by inch, she wraps me in her body until she’s fully seated.
My hands curl around her hips, guiding her. Nothing has ever felt this good. It’s like a bonfire on a crisp fall night, a cold beer after the best ride of my life…it’s like coming home.
Her body is soft and warm in my hands, and for the life of me, I can’t remember it ever feeling this good. I look down at my cock sliding in and out of her pussy.
My bare cock.
Shit.
“Mo, baby.” I still her with my hands.
She blinks heavily and follows my gaze to look at where we’re connected.
She presses her knees to the ground next to me, slowly lifting herself off before lowering back down.
“You feel so good, Rhett.”
Oh, God, I should tell her to stop, tell her to let me get a condom, but I can’t. I fucking can’t. I have to.
She repeats the movement, but this time I don’t let her come back down.
“Baby, we forgot a condom.”
The hazy lust clears just a bit from her eyes, and she glances at my wallet sticking out of the back pocket of my jeans.
Pulling her lips between her teeth, she says, “I haven’t been with anyone since you, Rhett.” Her eyes drift away from mine the second the words leave her mouth.
I grab her chin and turn her face to look at me. “You haven’t slept with anyone?”
She tries to look away, but I don’t let her.
“Why?” I breathe, my heart in my throat.
I wish I could say the same. I would give anything to turn back time and erase every nameless face, just to be able to give her what she’s giving me.
“I—” She gasps when I shift my hips, pushing inside of her again.
“Why, Mo?”
“I didn’t want anyone else. No one else can make me feel the way you do, and I didn’t want to settle for anyone other than the man who owned my heart.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” My hands slide up her thighs, gripping them as she rocks back and forth on my cock. “I—I wish I could—”
“It’s okay.” She places a finger over my lips. I nip at the pad, and she smiles. “You thought I’d cheated on you. I didn’t expect you to stay celibate.”
“I’m clean. I have to get tested regularly with the organization, and I haven’t been with anyone in a while anyway. As soon as you get on the pill, I promise there will be nothing between us ever again. Until then…” I reach for my wallet, grab a condom, and slip it on.
My cock slides back into her easily. It doesn’t feel the same as it did before, but it’s still amazing.
“Did you think of me—of us—when you got yourself off?” I ask, surging my hips forward. Her grunts grow louder with each thrust, her pleasure just beyond my grasp.
“Yes! Every night, you’re all I thought about,” she admits. “Oh, God, Rhett. You’re all I think about.”
I pull her down on top of me so I can kiss her. “That’s so hot, baby. I want to watch you—watch you get yourself off the way you did when I wasn’t around.”
My movements speed up, along with Mo’s breathing. She loves the dirty talk more than any woman I’ve ever known.
“Will you let me watch, Mo? Can I watch you finger this tight little pussy?” I squeeze a hand between us, press my thumb to her clit, and she bucks against me.
“Yes! Yes! You can watch. Oh, God.” She moans loud and long as her sweat-soaked body slides against mine, her breasts swinging in front of my face.
I capture a tight nipple with my lips, sucking it deep into my mouth. I flick the bud with my tongue the way I know she likes, and Mo’s body explodes atop mine.
Her pussy contracts, tightening around my throbbing dick. I continue to move in and out of her, relishing the way it feels to be connected once again.
“Rhett,” she breathes, her husky voice causing a tingle at the base of my spine. It swirls upward through my stomach and explodes through my chest, radiating to every inch of my body.
My orgasm slams into me with enough force to blur my vision. I bury my face in Mo’s neck, breathing her in as I moan through my release.
She collapses on top of me, and we lay like this for several seconds.
Eventually she pushes herself up, brushes the hair out of her face, and grins, sending my heart into a frenzy.
“You take my breath away,” I whisper.
Tears fill her big, beautiful eyes. “I don’t deserve you.” Her voice cracks, but she continues. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness, or your heart.”
“Stop.” I shake my head. “Mo—”
“Let me finish,” she pleads. I shut my mouth and nod, unsure of where this could be going. “I don’t deserve a second chance at your heart, but if you give it, I won’t turn it down. I’m still madly in love with you, Rhett Allen.”
Mo Gallagher is sitting on top of me, naked, begging for a second chance at my heart, and for the life of me I’m trying to remember what it was like to hear her say those three little words.
“Say it.”
“I love you,” she whispers.
I look down at her hand on my heart and place mine over it. We’re really here together. Somehow this has happened…
“It’s okay if you’re not there yet,” she says. “I don’t need the words. But I do need you to know how I feel.”
The words sit on the tip of my tongue. I feel them in every fiber of my being, but fear keeps me from pushing them out. Everything between us is happening so fast, and while I want it, I’m not sure Mo fully understands what she’ll be getting in to. She hasn’t been a part of my professional life. She doesn’t realize the time constraints it puts on my personal life—how much time I spend traveling and interacting with my fans. What if it’s too much for her, and she decides she can’t do it? Her life hasn’t been fully her own in six years. It isn’t even now.
I love her—of course I love her. It was silly of me to ever pretend otherwise. But once I say it, it’s out there, and I’m totally exposed again. We have so much more to talk about, to live through. I need to be sure she’s certain before I give her this last sliver of myself.
Reaching for her face, I curl my hands around her neck, pull her to me, and pour every emotion I feel for her into our kiss. The sun dips below the horizon, bringing with it a blanket of stars as I make love to Mo for a second time, showing with my body what I’m still afraid to say.