I arched back, exactly as he’d known I would. When he unhooked my bra with practiced ease, I couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped me.
“Some things you don’t forget.” His smile pressed to the curve of my breast.
We moved together with increasing urgency, helping each other shed the last barriers between us until finally, blissfully, we were skin against skin. I knew those broad shoulders and strong arms, but the fresh scars told stories of the time we’d spent apart. My fingers traced the jagged lines of Rhett’s new scars, reminders of the life he’d led away from me. Each mark told a story I wasn’t part of, a testament to the time we’d lost. I lingered over them, feeling the raised edges, the smooth centers, committing them to memory.
Rhett shifted beneath my touch, his breath hitching as my fingers brushed a particularly sensitive spot. “Pep,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble against my ear. “You’re killing me.”
Before I could respond, he rolled us, reversing our positions, so he loomed over me. His eyes gleamed with a wicked intent that sent a shiver of anticipation down my spine. “My turn,” he growled, dipping his head to capture my mouth in a searing kiss.
His lips moved against mine, hungry and demanding, stealing my breath and replacing it with his own. I arched up into him, my body craving more contact, more friction, just… more. He obliged, trailing kisses down my neck, lingering on the spot that always made me gasp before continuing his descent.
He took his time, reacquainting himself with every inch of my skin. His mouth was hot, his tongue teasing, and I was a writhing mess beneath him, reduced to incoherent pleas and gasps.
When he finally slid inside me, it was on a slow, perfect glide that filled me completely. I let out a shuddering breath, my eyes fluttering closed at the sheer perfection of the moment.
“Look at me, Pep.” Emotion made Rhett’s voice ragged. I forced my eyes open, meeting his gaze, seeing the raw hunger and vulnerability reflected back at me.
We began to move, chasing that elusive high that we could only find in each other. Each thrust was a promise, each kiss a vow. The heat between us built, threatening to consume us both, until finally, inevitably, we tumbled over the edge, coming home together.
Fifteen
Rhett
I lay beside Pepper, sweat cooling on my skin, heart still thundering in my chest. My shoulder ached a little, but I didn’t care. The late afternoon sun slanted through her bedroom window, casting everything in honey-gold light, gilding the glorious expanse of her smooth skin and making fire glint in her auburn hair.
Her fingers traced idle patterns on my chest. Neither of us spoke. We didn’t need to. The air felt thick, charged with possibility.
Maybe I should’ve felt guilty. Should’ve worried about what this meant, where we went from here. But in the moment, all I felt was peace. Like some missing piece of myself had finally clicked back into place. I wanted to bask in it as long as possible, before reality and practicalities intruded again.
The ceiling fan made lazy circles above us, swaying with a light, rhythmic click. Needed balancing. I ought to add that to the list of things to fix. Maybe later, when the blood returned fully to my brain.
Pepper shivered against me. I pulled the sheet higher over us both, tucking it around her shoulders. She pressed a kiss to my chest, right over my heart. The simple gesture nearly undid me, and I threaded my fingers in her hair, gently kneading. Everything I’d been fighting for, everything I wanted—it was all right here in this bed.
This wasn’t just sex. It wasn’t nostalgia or comfort or goodbye. This was a beginning. At least, I wanted it to be.
I tightened my arm around her, drawing her closer. She came willingly, fitting herself against me like she’d never left. Like we’d never been apart at all. And that gave me the courage to speak.
Turning my head, I pressed a kiss to her brow. “I’ve missed you. Missed this. Every single day.”
Pepper lost some of that languid relaxation, but she didn’t move away. “I’ve missed you, too. But this doesn’t change anything, Rhett.”
I took a deep breath, steeling myself. “It does change things. It has to. Because I’ve changed.”
Pepper propped herself up on one elbow, those gray-green eyes studying me with guarded hope. I’d seen that look before—wanting to believe me but afraid to.
“When I was over there, lying in that field hospital after the explosion, I had a lot of time to think.” I traced the curve of her shoulder with my fingertips. “And what I realized was that I’d been a coward.”
“You? A coward?” She shook her head. “You run into burning buildings for a living.”
“That’s the easy part.” I met her gaze directly. “The hard part was admitting that I used the job as an excuse. I hid behind duty and responsibility because it was safer than facing what was happening between us.”
Her expression softened slightly, but she remained silent.
“I took you for granted, Pepper. I acted like you’d always be here, waiting, no matter how many times I put the job first. I convinced myself I was being noble, that the sacrifices were necessary.” I swallowed hard. “But the truth is, I was afraid of failing at being a husband. So I poured everything into being a firefighter instead. A soldier.”
“The deployments weren’t your fault,” she said quietly. “That’s not how the Reserves work. I knew that when you signed up.”
“No, but everything before was. All those missed dinners. The anniversaries I worked through. The vacations we never took.” My voice grew rough. “I could’ve tried harder to swap shifts. Could’ve said no to overtime sometimes. Could’ve put us first, at least occasionally.”
