“I hated you,” she whispers.
“I know.”
“I missed you,” she corrects, fierce.
“I know that too.”
I kiss her forehead, then her cheek, then the corner of her mouth—little touches that feel intimate as confession. She makes a small, helpless sound and threads her fingers into my hair again, pulling me back to her mouth like she needs more.
I give her more. I give hersomuch fuckingmore.
We kiss until time blurs—until the outside world, with its Strouds and sabotage and shadows, fades to a distant hiss. Our hands roam in careful, hungry exploration, learning what changed and what didn’t. Our breathing gets ragged. Our bodies press closer, heat building, want turning into something that feels inevitable.
I pull back, panting, forehead resting against hers.
“Laney,” I whisper. “Tell me to stop if you want me to stop.”
Her eyes meet mine, clear and burning. “Don’t stop,” she says.
The words hit like permission and surrender and trust.
And I take her hand, lace our fingers together, and ease us down onto the bed as if I’m laying something precious to rest. The room is dark except for the little lamp glow, casting soft shadows over her face. She looks at me like I’m not a mistake—like I’m something she’s choosing.
That wrecks me in the best way.
I kiss her again, slower now, pouring everything I never said into the pressure of my mouth. Her arms wrap around me, holding me close like she’s afraid I’ll vanish.
I remove her clothing and she removes mine. I press against her, my body harder than a rock.
“Fuck,” I whisper as I push my cock deep inside her. “You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about this.”
“Nash, you have no clue. I’ve wanted you for so long.” Her eyes widen. “And you’re so much bigger than I ever imagined.”
This makes me proud, and I smile down at her. “Is this what you wanted?” I thrust harder into her, filling her up. “Is this how you imagined me?” I push deeper.
Her legs wrap around my waist. “Yes, Nash. Yes.”
“You’re so fucking pretty, Laney.” I want to spill my heart to her. Tell her how in love with her I am, but I keep my mouth shut and focus on the pleasure.
My dick’s hard, and I try not to lose control. I keep working, letting my cock fill her up. She feelsso fuckinggood.
We move together, finding a rhythm that feels like coming home after being lost for years. She matches me thrust for thrust.Her breath catches. My name breaks from her lips like it’s been waiting there.
Outside, the ranch is still under threat.
But in here, in this room, in this moment, there is only her.
Only us.
And when the night finally tips past the point where restraint turns into something else—when the heat crests and the world narrows to breath and heartbeat and the truth of her in my arms—I let the rest of the details stay ours.
Because this isn’t a conquest.
It’s not a win.
It’s a promise I’m finally keeping.
After, I stay close, my forehead against her temple, listening to her breathing slow. My hand rests at her waist, thumb moving in small, absent circles like I’m reassuring myself she’s still here.
