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Fuck me.
“Yes.”
She rolls that lush lower lip of hers between her teeth before letting her gaze drop to the place where my towel-covered cock is still pressed against her knee. Letting her gaze slide upward, slowly working its way over my abs. The slats of my inked-up ribs. My tattooed pecs before finally pinning it to mine. “Can I watch?”
Fuck me twice.
There’s no way I’m letting her within a country mile of me while I’m jerking off because there’s not a goat fuck’s chance in hell that I won’t end up buried, balls deep, inside her if I do.
“No.”
Her brow crumples. “Why?”
Since telling her the truth is proving to create more trouble than I can handle, I deflect instead. “Is it on your bucket list?”
Sliding off the counter with a sigh, she drops to her feet in front of me. “Well, it is now.” Head tilted back so she can look up at me, her mouth slowly stretches into the kind of smile that feels like a sucker punch. “Will you think about me while you do it?”
Jesus Christ.
She is a monster and she’s trying to kill us both.
Turning her toward the open bathroom door, I give her a gentle shove, answering her honestly again, against my better judgment. “As my dick’s legal representative, I sincerely doubt we’ll ever think of anyone else, ever again.”
Stopping in the doorway, Kait turns toward me, aiming the sort of smug, over-the-shoulder smile in my direction that makes me want to laugh almost as much as it makes me want to grab her and carry her back to bed. “Guess I should give you and your dick something to think about then...” She drops the towel I wrapped her in, giving me a spectacular view of her tight, round ass. The long line of her back, the generous flare of her hips.
Slamming the bathroom door between us before I lose my mind completely, I can hear her laughing on the other side. “Let me know if you need any help.”
Definitely trying to kill us both.
FORTY-NINE
Kaitlyn
In the thirty minutes I’ve been downstairs, alone and pretending to study, the inexplicable happened.
The Kait being with Went made me into slowly faded away, leaving the old Kait in her place.
The Kait who has no idea how to navigate the last six hours of her life, let alone the ability to contemplate what the lasting effects of what happened in those hours might mean.
Needless to say, by the time Went comes downstairs, wearing a pair of loose track pants and a muscle shirt, I’ve worked myself up into a pretty good lather.
Not because I’m trying to figure out if anything we did means anything to him.
Because I’m fairly certain it didn’t.
Because my only choices left are to marry Brock or leave Barrett forever and neither one of those choices includes Went.
Pen poised like I’m taking notes, head tilted down, I pretend to be looking at my computer screen when what I’m really doing is watching Went while he pours himself a cup of coffee. Returning the carafe to the machine, he turns around, leaning his hips against the counter a split second before I drop my gaze.
“Did you eat breakfast?”
Lifting my gaze again, I reach for the paper towel holding the remnants of the banana I ate next to my half empty coffee cup. “Yes.” Showing it to him as proof, I start to slide off my stool, suddenly sure I took some sort of misstep. “Did you want me to make you something?” Anxiety spikes when he doesn’t answer me. “Are you hungry? I can—”
His knee-knockingly gorgeous face falls into a scowl. “Is that what a good little rancher’s wife would do?” Setting his mug on the counter behind him, Went crosses his massive, tattooed arms over his chest. “Drop whatever she’s doing, no matter how important it is, the second her husband snaps his fingers? Make his breakfast? Lick his boots?”
Something about his tone stiffens my spine and stains my cheeks, all at the same time because the answer is yes. Because no matter how many college credits I’ve earned or how many nursing schools I’ve applied to, the truth is, I’ve never believed I was meant to be anything else.
College is just a pipedream.