Page 43 of Rhett & Moses
“But I do have questions,” I continued. “Practical ones. About logistics, about how often we’d actually be able to use this place given our careers, about who would maintain it when we’re not there.”
“All valid concerns,” he agreed, settling back beside me. “And I’ve thought about most of them. The property has a caretaker’s cottage that could be rented to a local who’d handle basic maintenance. It’s close enough to Gomillion that Bronwyn could check on it occasionally if needed. As for logistics...”
He launched into a thoughtful analysis of travel options, work schedules, the potential for remote work that made it clear he had, indeed, given this serious consideration. I listened, bothtouched by the depth of his planning and amused by the very Rhett-like thoroughness of it.
“You’ve really thought this through,” I observed when he paused for breath.
“I have,” he admitted with a sheepish smile. “I told you once that I left you alone after the statue incident because I was young and scared and didn’t know how to fight for what mattered. I don’t intend to make that mistake again.”
The simple declaration, delivered with such quiet certainty, melted something inside me, a final remnant of the armor I’d built around my heart over the years.
“I want to see this house,” I decided, the words feeling right as I spoke them. “I can’t promise anything beyond that, but I want to see it. To understand what you’re envisioning.”
His smile was like the sunrise after the longest night. “That’s all I’m asking for. A chance to show you possibilities.”
“Possibilities,” I repeated, liking the sound of the word, open-ended, full of potential without the pressure of immediate decisions. “I can work with possibilities.”
He kissed me then, soft and sweet, a promise without demands. When we separated, I felt a sense of peace I hadn’t experienced in years, perhaps ever. Whatever tomorrow brought, whatever decisions lay ahead, for tonight we were here, together, the past acknowledged but no longer a barrier between us.
“So,” Rhett murmured after a comfortable silence, his hand drifting purposefully down my chest, “about those shorter intervals we discussed...”
I laughed, catching his wandering hand and bringing it to my lips. “Already?”
His eyes darkened with renewed desire. “We have twenty years to make up for, Moses. I intend to make the most of every minute.”
“Well, when you put it that way,” I replied, pulling him down for a kiss that promised much more, “who am I to argue with such sound logic?”
I shut him up with a kiss. “Too much talking.” Rhett laughs as I roll him into his back. The kiss is territorial; I’m staking my claim on this man that I had wasted twenty years of my life without.
I reach down and feel he’s hard again. “Guess you missed me as much as I missed you.” I murmur against this mouth.
His eyes burn up at me, challenging me and surrendering to me at the same time.
Rubbing the pre-cum, helps my hand to move, teasing him slow at first, long strokes that have his breath hitching. He bucks into my grip, desperate already, and I can’t help but smirk. “Still greedy I see.”
“And you still talk too much,” he pants, as his mouth crashes into mine.
I reach between us, lining myself up. “I want you so bad, Rhett.”
“Well, what are you waiting for? You’re in control here.”
The first push steals both of our breaths. He’s tight, hot, and I pause just to savor the way his nails bit into my arms.
“Fuck, Rhett…” I press harder, getting deeper. Every inch is a battle and a homecoming at the same time. His legs lock around my waist, dragging me closer.
“Don’t stop,” he gasps, his voice cracking. “Please God, don’t stop.”
I thrust slow at first, drawing it out, watching his face twist with pleasure. Then faster, harder, years of frustration and need boiling over. Our bodies slap together, slick with sweat, the rhythm raw and just perfect.
His moans grow louder, his head thrown back, and I can’t take my eyes off him. “Mine,” I growl against his throat, biting down just enough to make him curse.
“Yours,” he chokes out, and it wrecks me.
I reach down, wrap my hand around him again, stroking in time with my thrusts. It only takes a few rough pulls before he’s spilling over my hand, clenching tight around me as he falls apart.
That’s all it takes. I slam deep into him one last time, burying myself inside him as my release rips through me, hot and consuming. I collapse against him, out breaths tangling, the room heavy with the sound of us finally finding our way back to each other.
And for the second time that night, we lost ourselves in each other, building something new from the ashes of what we’d once had, something stronger, deeper, and infinitely more real than the fevered dreams of our youth. Whatever the future held, this, at least, was ours: this connection, this moment, this second chance neither of us had dared to hope for but both of us had secretly wanted.
