Page 13

Ten

Colt

T he call hits at three a.m., yanking me out of the first real sleep I’ve had in… hell, maybe years. Not even kidding.

"Colt?" Cade’s voice is sharp, serious. "We've got a situation. Mr. Henderson wandered off from Sunset Manor. Went missing around midnight. Staff just caught it."

Shit. I’m already halfway out of bed, reaching for my jeans with a serviceman’s muscle memory.

Cade doesn’t call unless he needs backup. The man knows these mountains better than anyone, and he can track a squirrel in a hurricane. If he’s calling me, it’s because this is bigger than a simple walk in the woods.

“Dementia?” I ask, tugging on my boots.

“Advanced. Family says he thinks he still lives up on Pine Ridge.”

Christ. “That’s fifteen miles,” I mutter, already grabbing my badge and sidearm.

“Exactly. Could be a long night.”

Beside me, Emery stirs, her voice still coated in sleep. “What’s wrong?”

I lean over her, pressing a kiss to her warm forehead. She smells like sex and whispered promises, and suddenly leaving her feels like ripping my own skin off.

“Missing man. Elderly. Memory problems.”

Her fingers brush my forearm. “Do you need help?”

God, this woman. “I need you to stay here. Lock the door. Don’t open it for anyone.”

She blinks at me, still foggy. “How long will you be gone?”

“No idea. Few hours if we’re lucky. Longer if not.” I pause, brushing hair off her cheek. “Promise me, Emery.”

Her eyes lock with mine, steady and clear now. “I promise.”

Five Hours Later, we find him three miles into the woods, perched on a fallen tree, calling out for his wife like she’s just around the bend. Cade spots the trail instantly. Soft prints in the mud, branches broken low. The guy’s a bloodhound in boots.

He’s cold. Scared. Still wearing his nightshirt.

But alive.

By the time we get him to the ER and finish all the damn paperwork, the sun’s up, and I’ve got a tension headache pounding behind my eyes.

All I want— all I fucking want —is to see Emery. To press my face to her stomach, to smell her skin and let everything else fall away. To assure her I want her and everything that comes with her. Every. Fucking. Bag in her baggage.

But, I need a shower, a few hours to get my head straight about what’s coming next for us. I check my phone and find a single text.

Emery : Let me know everything is okay with the elderly guy. And with you, Daddy.

Me : The elderly guy is fine. Cold and confused, but no harm done. How are you, Babygirl?

Emery : All good, Daddy, just missing you.

Me : Same, baby. I’ll see you real soon.

Emery : Yes you will ;)

That makes me crack a rare smile. What I don’t expect is to pull up to my cabin and see it flickering with soft candlelight.

Her little gray van in my driveway.

It makes me fucking hard seeing it. Like I’m coming home from work and she’s there. Home before me.

Home.

What I really don’t expect is to hear her voice floating out through the cracked window, singing something soft and low, reminding me of how she stood up for karaoke before her night was interrupted by that fucker with an attitude.

And through the glass?

She’s in my shirt. Just my shirt. Bare legs. Hair down. Swaying slightly as she moves around the kitchen like she belongs there.

My heart goes still.

Because she does. She does belong there.

She’s done this for me. Set this up. Candles. Music. Herself—wrapped up like a goddamn fever dream in plaid and vulnerability.

No one has ever done anything like this for me.

I take a deep breath of pine forest as I stand on the precipice of what feels like the rest of my life, and then I take the few steps up to the cabin and walk right in. Because if this is forever, then I want all of it.

“Hey,” she says with a smile that slams into me like a semi. “So he’s safe?”

“He’s safe. Cold, confused, but safe.” I take a step forward, zeroing in on her like a man tracking his salvation. “What’s all this?”

“I just…” She glances around the room, nerves fluttering beneath her confidence. “You always take care of everyone else. I thought maybe tonight… I could take care of you.”

It hits me like a punch straight to the ribs.

Because no one takes care of me.

Not since Mom died. Not since Dad checked out. Not since my brothers and I learned to carry the world on our backs with no one watching.

But here she is. Twenty-one. Single mom. Still trying to give when no one’s ever really given to her.

“Baby girl,” I groan, my dick already painful and ready.

She slides closer, tip toeing in bare feet until her fingers slip up to the buttons of my shirt. “Let me do this for you.”

The first button unravels me.

I can’t breathe.

“Daddy needs to relax after a long day.”

She undoes the next one. Then the next. Her knuckles brush my chest, and I swear to God my knees almost give out.

“You’re gonna do a good job relaxing me, baby.” My chest is a war zone. Everything tight and hot and too damn full.

“I’m gonna try hard.” Her voice slithers down into my bones as her hand puts an exclamation point on the word ‘hard’.

“Daddy, this is big.”

“Big dick for a big girl.”

She blinks twice, then smiles realizing I’m not making fun of her sexy as fuck body.

This woman, wanting to give instead of just take. Wanting to worship me the way I worship her.

"Okay," I say quietly, covering her hands with mine and helping her push the shirt off my shoulders. “You want to relax me? You gonna do as you’re told?”

A nod, a smile. “Yes and yes.”

"Kneel." I punctuate the word with my hand on the top of her head pushing down. She’s lit this fuse, and she’s gonna get the full explosion whether she’s ready or not.

Zero hesitation as I position her in front of me, those eyes looking up make me want to be everything she needs in the world.

"Good girl." I cup her face in my hands, thumbs stroking across her cheekbones, fighting for control. "Such a good girl for Daddy."

She leans into my touch, eyes fluttering closed. "I missed you today."

"I missed you too." I work the rest of my clothes off, hyperaware of the way she's watching every movement.

"Couldn't think about anything except getting back here and burying my cock so deep in your pussy you forget your own name.

Spent the whole damn day hard, thinking about how you taste, how tight you get around me when you come. "

Her breath hitches, and I can see the way my words affect her. The way her thighs press together, the way her pupils dilate with want.

"Been thinking about fucking your mouth too," I continue, my voice dropping lower. "About how pretty you look when you’re gagging on my dick."

When I'm naked, she reaches for me, but I catch her wrists.

"Not yet," I say. "First, I want you to tell me what you've been thinking about all day."

Her cheeks go pink. "Colt—"

"Tell me, baby girl. What's been going through that pretty head of yours?"

"You," she whispers. "This. The way you make me feel."

"How do I make you feel?"

"Safe. Wanted. Like I matter."

"You do matter." I tilt her chin up, forcing her to meet my eyes. "You matter more than anything."

Then I'm guiding her mouth to me, and she opens for me like she was made for this. The wet heat of her tongue makes me groan, and when she takes me deeper, those perfect lips stretching around my cock, I nearly lose my fucking mind.

"Christ, baby girl. Look at you, sucking Daddy's cock like you're starving for it." I fist my hand in her hair, not forcing but guiding. "You love having your mouth full of me, don't you?"

She hums around me in response, and the vibration shoots straight to my balls. She's eager, desperate to please, and watching her work to take more of me is the hottest thing I've ever seen.

"That's it," I murmur, threading my fingers through her hair. "Just like that. Take your time."

She does, exploring me with her tongue and lips like she's memorizing every inch. When she finally takes me deeper, humming around me, I have to fight not to lose control completely.

"Enough." I pull her off me before I can embarrass myself.

She scrambles to her feet and leads me to the bedroom, shedding my shirt along the way. By the time we reach the bed, she's naked and flushed and absolutely fucking perfect.

"How do you want me?" she asks.

"Turn around," I command, my voice rough with need. "Hands and knees, baby girl. I want to see that perfect ass while I fuck you."

She scrambles to obey, and the sight of her like this, on display for me, waiting for me to take her, makes my cock throb.

"Look at you," I growl, running my hands over the curves of her ass, the dip of her spine. "So fucking gorgeous. All mine to use however I want."

I position myself behind her and push inside in one hard thrust, making her cry out. This angle lets me go deeper, hit spots that make her shake and beg.

"That's it," I pant, gripping her hips as I set a brutal pace. "Take it all, baby girl. Take every inch of Daddy's cock."

This time is different from the first. Slower, deeper, more intense. I take my time, building her up and bringing her down, making her come twice before I finally let myself follow.

Afterward, we're both wrecked. She's curled against my chest, breathing hard, and I'm running my fingers through her hair and trying to remember how to form words.

"That's my good girl," I murmur against the top of her head. "So fucking perfect for me."

"I love you," she whispers.

The words stop my heart. Because I love her too, so much it physically hurts, but I can't say it back. Not when she doesn't know who I really am. Not when there are still secrets between us.

"What's your dream, baby girl?" I ask instead, my fingers stroking through her hair. "What do you want most in this world?"

She's quiet for a moment. "You mean, besides Legend being safe and happy?"

"Besides that. What's your dream for you?"

"I used to want to sing," she admits softly. "Really sing, not just for fun. Maybe Nashville, or at least local venues. But that was before..."

"Before what?"