Page 117 of Wild As Her

When we break apart, she’s breathless. I’m stunned. And in love with her in a way that feels soright, it almost hurts.

I kiss her again. Harder this time. My hands sliding into her hair, her body melting into mine. Everything I’ve held back pours out of me all at once, months of pining, years of wanting. She’s all heat and softness and impossible magic.

She reaches over and turns off the stove, dropping a lid on top of a pan. Dinner forgotten, we stumble toward the couch. She tugs my shirt up over my head like she’s wanted to for years and never let herself. I trail kisses down her neck, her shoulder, whispering her name like a prayer.

Because this moment is what I've fought for. Even when I felt like I was fighting for this on my own, I've beenfighting.

She whispers mine right back. And I love hearing her say it.

There’s nothing rushed about this. Nothing frantic. Just hands and mouths and hearts colliding like they’ve been waiting for this moment forever. I take my time with her, worshipping her like she deserves. She pulls me close like she’s never letting go.

This time, it’s slow. Unhurried. Almost like all the promises we made materialize in this moment.

Even feeling like we have all the time in the world, the bedroom still feels so damn far away, so I walk backwards to the living room. With one hand on her throat, gentle pressure on each side to keep her exactly where I want her, and the other pulling her with me by the belt loops of her jeans, I sink down on the couch, and she follows, straddling me, giving me all her weight.

When her core presses against my cock, I hiss as my hips lift from the couch without my permission, grinding into her. The contact draws a long, low moan from her as she lowers her head and sucks my bottom lip between hers, nipping with her teeth.

“Cami,” I moan, squeezing her ass and dragging her core down my hard ridge.

Seconds meld into minutes, and I could stay wrapped up in this woman forever.

Later, tangled together beneath a throw blanket on the couch, her head on my chest, her fingers tracing lazy circles over my ribs, I feel it settle in my bones.

This is it.

This is home.

“You know,” she murmurs, “I still think your gates are obnoxious.”

I grin, pressing a kiss to her temple. “You’re going to marry me one day, and those gates are going to beourobnoxious gates.”

She chuckles. “You proposing already, Jessop?”

“Not yet,” I say, pulling her tighter. “But I’m gonna.”

And from how she tucks herself against me and sighs like I’m everything she’s ever wanted, I know she believes me.And that’s all I’ll ever need.

The world outside is dark and quiet, the kind of quiet that only happens late at night in Bridger Falls, when the wind settles and the stars take their watch. But inside Cami’s bedroom, it’s warm. Peaceful.

She’s curled into my chest beneath a pile of blankets, one bare leg hooked over mine, her hand resting just above my heart like she knows exactly how fast it beats for her. Her hair smells like vanilla and honey. Her breath is slow. Steady.

We haven’t moved much since we came up here after we made love and finally made it through dinner, just shifted enough to tangle together, limbs and hearts knotted so tightly I’m not sure where I end and she begins.

I think she’s drifting off when her voice breaks the quiet.

“The bank was rude to me. I think I want to find a new one.”

I glance down, brushing a hand slowly up her back. Her voice is soft, but there’s something sharp beneath it. Hurt. Shame.

She continues. “They’ve always been rude. I used to tell myself I was imagining it. But I wasn’t. I think I want to finda new bank.”

My stomach tightens. I shift just enough to see her face. She’s staring at the ceiling now, her brow furrowed, eyes distant.

“What do you mean?” I ask gently. “What happened?”

She swallows. “It’s not what they said. Not exactly. It’s the way they talked to me. Like I wasn't worth their time. Like I was some clueless girl with no idea what she was doing. Like… like Wilder Ranch didn’t mean anything. Just a number. A dying piece of land with a dumb little girl clinging to it.”

I feel the anger rising, steady and hot. I know what that feels like. I’ve felt it before. It’s the way people look at someone they’ve already decided isn’t worth listening to. How our family has felt and how we've been working so hard to rebuild our name with the community.

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