he shuts it and flicks the lock before turning back to me.
“What are you doing?” My words are breathless.
He stalks over to me, hauls me to my feet, and before I can speak, his lips meet mine. His mouth is hot, hard.
All thoughts of irritation and resistance fade into the background as his arms come around me, his large palms settling on my ass.
He squeezes, and I rise to my tiptoes, my body flush against his. He pulls me closer, his head tilting to deepen the contact.
His tongue slides, tangling with mine.
As much as I want to kill him most of the time, he makes me forget everything but him.
My arms curl around his neck.
We break apart.
Breathe harshly.
Then press together again.
It brings back all the want, all the needy desire from last night.
And I do want him.
More than I’ve ever wanted any other man.
He pulls away and brushes his mouth against mine once more before running a finger down the line of my jaw. “Who takes care of you, Catarina?”
I blink, coming back from all the lust.
I shake my head. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Who puts your needs first?” His voice is soft.
My lashes flutter. “I’m all good.”
“No, you’re not.” He kisses me again, almost sweetly. “But you will be.”
And with that, he turns and walks out, leaving me staring after him.
Caden
Three days later, Cat’s standing in the kitchen with Mrs. Potts and Gwen while I’m sitting at the table, watching her overcommit herself.
Gwen taps a long finger against her chin. “Maybe we should have some snacks for tonight. You know, something casual.”
Cat nods. “Sure thing.”
When it comes to food, Gwen and Jackson don’t do anything casual, and they’ll take care of that part, but some of the work still falls on Cat. I’d bet money she’s exhausted at the prospect of another night entertaining people.
Things have been crazy—the house, farm, and restaurant buzzing with near constant activity. Since I didn’t want to add to Cat’s stress, I’ve kept things between us light and fun—kissing her whenever the fuck I feel like it, or when I think she needs it to reset her brain, but leaving the rest alone for now.
It’s not the time to push for what I want.
For the moment, I’ve come to peace with the fact that I can’t stay away from her. Despite the reasons to stay away, and the near certain knowledge that it will end badly, I want her too much to stop what’s happening between us.
Maybe it’s self-destructive like always—fuck, it probably is. But a part of me, the hopeful part, wants to believe it could be different. Because she’s different. The way I feel about her is different.
In the end, I suppose it doesn’t matter because after the night in the car when I licked her pussy and she came with my fingers up her ass, I’ve accepted that I’m going down this path.
Her pull is too strong.
And I need to see. It’s a compulsion I can’t talk myself out of.
But now that I’ve made up my mind, I’ve got plenty of patience.
Gwen leaves, and Mrs. Potts isn’t too far behind, leaving us alone in the kitchen. Cat plops down on the chair across from me.
“What do you need?” I ask. It’s a question I ask repeatedly of her throughout the days. She’s yet to really grasp my meaning, but I hope that changes soon.
She shakes her head. “I’m good.”
I can’t help wondering if she’s ever going to accept what I’m offering. She shows no signs at present.
I give her a sly grin. “Wanna sleep at my house?”
She immediately straightens in her chair. “No!”
I laugh. “You know my door is always open.”
She glares at me. “Like I’m ever going to show up at your door.”
“Never say never.” I cock my brow. “Bet you didn’t think you’d be begging me either, but look how that turned out.”
She picks up a napkin, crumples it into a ball, and throws it at me. “Why are you such a bastard?”
I shrug. “Just lucky, I guess.”
She stares at me, those steely eyes of hers sparking before she says, “Well, anyway…”
I chuckle again and put my elbows on the table. “You sure there’s nothing I can help you with?”
“Don’t you have things to do?”
“Always. But things are under control, and I’m at your disposal.”
“Oh, really?”
I meet her skeptical gaze. “Really.”
Her forehead wrinkles, like she’s thinking something through. Then she sits forward. “Will you help me make all the beds? Mrs. Potts was going to do it, but