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A long pause of comfortable silence filled the large bedroom before she spoke again.

“You flew to Dallas to help me. That night. I texted you something, and you came. Never in a million years did I expect you to come that night, but you did. It was a shitstorm in our house when you got there, but it didn't faze you. You marched right past my belligerent father into my room, packed my bags, and grabbed my hand on the way out.”

“Then why did—or do—you hate me so much? The wreck was my fault, and your injuries, but if I was there with the right intentions, why be so pissed all these years?”

Her arms and legs tightened like I was her lifeline.

“That night, your dad, your grandfather, my father—everyone found out about us. What we’d been doing behind their backs. I was seventeen, Brenton, and you were almost twenty-one. You were the grandson of an oil tycoon, and I was the help's daughter. No one approved of us, and we knew that, which was why we never told anyone.”

“Okay, but—”

“They gave you an ultimatum after the wreck. Your trust fund or me. You chose the money.” Hot tears rolled down my neck as her body trembled on top of me.

“No,” I bit out. “No, Beks. You had it wrong. I would never have done that. I would never choose money over anyone, especially not you.”

“You didn't even have the balls to tell me to my face. You had your damn attorneys write up an agreement, and then they marched into my hospital room, threw it on the bed, and told me... told me you didn't want to see me again. That we were a mistake.”

“I didn't. I wouldn't.” Tension seized my lower back and crept up my spine. “If you say I'm not my father and believe that, then you know I wouldn't have done that. I know I can't remember, but you have to believe me, Beks, I wouldn't have done that.”

“I do,” she cried. “A part of me never believed you were the one to make the choice.”

Arms wrapped around her back, I rolled us so my weight pushed her against the soft bed. Resting on my elbows, I held her face between my hands and waited for her eyes to open.

Watery, they finally met mine, and I said, “You have every right to hate me.”

Wet lashes fluttered, and a small smile pulled at her lips. “You're a moron if you believe that, Brenton. I might’ve thought I hated you, but no matter what, I always loved you more.”

“No,” I said, horrified. Anger, hate, resentment—I could handle those feelings, but love wasn't an emotion I'd ever felt or been shown except by the woman beneath me.

“Unfortunately for me, and you too by your response, yeah I do. I did then too. It was why it hurt so bad. Over time, that love grew hard and jagged, which looked like hate, but underneath it all I still loved you. Still love you.”

Maybe it was to stop her from saying it again since my heart raced each time the words “I love you” passed her lips, or perhaps it was to show her how I felt since I couldn't voice it. Either way, I closed the gap between us and pressed my lips against hers.

In a desperate request, I slid the tip of my tongue along the seam of her lips, begging for her to open. With a moan, her soft lips parted, giving me full access. Hand in her hair, I urged her harder against me as I angled my lips to deepen the kiss. Every other kiss before was fucking nothing. This right now, devoted to each other and communicating the taut connection neither of us could explain, was the world.

Beneath me, her legs wrapped around my hips and her heels dug into my ass. I groaned into her mouth when her sweet scent floated up from between us. My hips flexed, pushing me harder against her tender spot.

Beks’s lips pulled from mine. “Brenton, stop being a damn tease.”

“We're taking this slow, baby.”

Her loud, frustrated whimper shot a bolt of electricity straight to my throbbing cock. My hands found the hem of her white T-shirt and dragged it over her head. It hadn't hit the floor before her bra was off as well.

Damn, I loved her tits.

Resting my weight on her pelvis, I wrapped both hands around her breasts, savoring the way her eyes shuttered closed with each pass of my thumbs over her peaked nipples.

Her back arched off the bed at the first flick and pinch between my fingers. Unable to hold back a second longer, I sucked a pebbled nipple between my lips. A thick desire-filled chuckle vibrated against her sensitive skin as her hand wove into my hair, pushing me closer.

“So bossy,” I murmured against her soft skin, then took a small nip. Her tremble and groan pushed the thought of going slow aside.

The bed squeaked beneath my shifting weight. Elbow on the mattress, I kept my mouth on her while I skimmed the tips of my fingers down her side, sinking lower with each pass. Heat guided me to the spot she urged me toward with the bucking of her hips.

I stifled a groan of my own with my mouth against her neck at the slickness I found waiting for me. At the first dip of my fingers, she shifted in a silent request for more. Each push rewarded me with a lift of her hips and a soft curse from her lips.

“Brenton, I want you,” she begged. “Please.”

Desire filled every inch of my soul at her splayed out beneath me, her long dark hair strewn across the bed, her eyes soft and fixed on me. With each deep breath, her fantastic tits rose and fell, her perfect nipples hardening further under my focused stare.