Page 23 of Heartless (Scathing Hearts #1)

Jake

I set my coffee on the desk of my office.

Last night, Sienna in my arms had been the most solace I’d felt in years.

What I’d said to her would have cut any woman. But it would wreak havoc on an inexperienced one. Fuck knew how she’d managed to not set the house on fucking fire.

Earlier this morning, her ‘good morning, Jake’ had been sweet. Then, she’d gone back to her room. When I’d return home to prepare for my trip to Denver later that evening, she had retreated to the balcony with her laptop.

I headed for her quarters, and after a knock on her door I knew she wouldn’t hear, I let myself in and strode across the room.

She was sitting cross-legged, bent over the laptop balanced in her lap while her long, flowery dress draped over the edge of the armchair.

She was lost in her own world with her mass of dark curls pulled up on top of her head in a messy bun that emphasized the grace of her neck.

When I slid the bay window open, she jumped and slapped the lid of the computer down while her face flushed. Hard.

“Jake! H-hi. I uh... what are you doing here?”

Her guilty-as-sin expression was fucking adorable. “What are you writing about?”

She tapped her fingertips on the top of the silver device. “Is something wrong?”

“I’m taking you for a hike.”

Her face angled toward the woods before she returned her frown to me. “Why?”

“It’s a beautiful day.”

“I agree, it’s a beautiful Tuesday, and I intend to be alive on Wednesday, so why would I jeopardize that by going to the woods full of bears and bugs?”

Burying my hands in the pockets of my pants, I tried not to laugh. “I promise there’re no bears where I’m taking you. The fresh air will do your good.”

Tilting her head to the side, the sexy, little insolent drawled out every word real slow. “I’m outside, Jake. Where the fresh air is.” She inhaled deep and let out a long exhale. “See? Fresh air.”

“One hour, baby.”

The workings of her mind played through her expressive face while she was trying to find a way out of it.

Her head jerked up. “I don’t have any hiking shoes or hiking socks.”

“Put on sneakers, comfortable clothing, and you’ll be fine. I’m going away for business, so you’ll have the house to yourself for the next three days.”

“Where are you going?”

“I’ll tell you on our walk. Come on, get your pretty ass into gear.”

At that, she dipped her chin while getting to her feet. “You mean my fat ass.”

What the fuck? I stepped closer. “What?”

“Nothing,” she mumbled.

That wasn’t nothing. I cupped her cheek. “Baby, I’m an asshole but I’m not blind. I’ve never called you fat.”

She shifted away from my touch. “Not in those words, but on the first day you said, ‘Don’t even think about starving yourself. Your ass can miss a few meals, but I’ll force feed you myself if you try that shit’.”

Fuck. Did she remember every word of every conversation? “And what I meant was your ass is fucking perfect, and I’d have noticed if you’d lost any of it.”

Her blinks were fast. “You would have noticed if I’d lost...?”

“It’s perfection, and no one fucks with perfection.”

A deep flush colored her face while she bit on her lip. After a few clicks on her keyboard, she brushed past me and set her laptop on the coffee table while muttering about being mauled by rogue bears, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

As soon as the door of her bedroom shut behind her, I went to the table. The screen was still unlocked. I tagged my cell, scrolled, and photographed the five pages before sliding my cell in my back pocket.

A few minutes later, she sauntered back into the living room dressed in yoga pants, sneakers just out of their box, a shapeless, too-large top, thrown over two other tops, a light scarf, and her raincoat. She’d also tied her hair back.

I did my best not to laugh. “What’s with all the layers?”

Throwing her arms out to her sides, she peered down her body. “Well, if we get lost in the woods, I don’t want to freeze to death, and the scarf will come handy if one of us breaks a limb.”

Sienna Winslow was all kinds of fucking cute.

“Have you never been hiking before?”

After a heavy sigh, she rolled her eyes. “Hiking is just a snobbish name some fanatics came up with for walking in nature.” She’d said ‘nature’ like it was a dirty word. “I’ve seen a lot of documentaries, and they all say—”

I tucked a loose curl behind her ear and brushed my thumb on her satiny cheek. “I won’t let anything happen to you, baby.”

A little frown creased her downcast eyes before she shifted away and pivoted toward her bedroom.

Fuck.

****

Sienna roved the view from the sunny plateau where we’d stopped.

The sun was shining onto her upturned, lovely face. “My God, this is gorgeous.”

She was fit, so her rhythm hadn’t lagged while we’d been on the trail, and she’d been quiet and contemplative whilst taking in our surroundings.

She tilted her smile to me. “You said you were in acquisitions and Silas told me you co-own two sports bars. What are acquisitions?”

“I buy businesses I bring back to life before reselling them. I also buy land to preserve their flora and their fauna natural habitats, and I own a small chain of outdoor equipment stores that provides guided group hikes. We also take city kids up and teach them about camping and nature.”

Her smile was soft. “Thank you.”

“For dragging you here kicking and screaming?”

Her ponytail swayed at the shake of her head. “For doing your part in protecting and preserving our planet.”

Warmth hit my chest. “Come on, princess. Let’s get you back to your earthly comforts.”

She fell in step beside me. “Now that I’m out of my writer’s block, I need to write about this beautiful walk.”

“You had writer’s block?”

She nodded. “The last weeks have been mind-crowding. But it’s a little quieter now, so I’m writing again.”

I kept my tone easy. “It’ll get better.” I’d make sure of it.

At that, she scoffed low. “I’m not going to jinx myself again by thinking it can’t get any worse.”

When I tagged her hand to stop her, she paled and blinked fast. “What? Is there a bear stalking us?”

I cupped her cheek. “What is it, Sienna?”

She started shifting back, but I rounded my hand around her nape. “Tell me, baby.”

Her teeth dug into her bottom lip. “Before all this, I’d just applied for a writing course online for which my boss had agreed to let me rearrange my schedule. But now, I need to find a job and somewhere to live.”

“I’ll help with all—”

“No, I’ll be fine. Let’s go back before a bear decides it’s peckish.”

We finished the trek back to the house in silence and entered through the mudroom where Sienna took her shoes and jacket off. Once we were in the family room, she tilted her smile at me. Her face was flushed with vitality, and her eyes shone like precious gems.

“Thank you, Jake. It was beautiful up-there.”

“Going back to your laptop?”

“Those stories are not going to write themselves.” She grinned. “Have a good trip. Are you going somewhere exotic?”

“Bugs and bears.”

Her little wince was cute as fuck. Her little wave too.

****

In my hotel room in Boulder, I made a couple of calls to my team, grabbed a beer, and headed toward the sitting area where I pulled my cell out.

Settling down on the small couch, I set out to read what had made her blush so hard.

The title was: Touch.

It depicted a man the female character had been watching in minute details.

She described him as a dark figure who both scared and fascinated her.

Her prose was sensual and evocative of a deep need, easily drawing the reader in.

By the second page, my feet hit the hardwood floor.

She’d written a sex scene where they were both naked and facing each other.

He was not to move while she touched him, kissed him, testing the different textures of their skins and shapes.

She described him lying still while she caressed him and used his body to make herself come.

Even though she was inexperienced, she’d painted a vivid picture of her being on her knees in front of him.

In the last sentence, the tip of her tongue was on his dick, and I shifted to release the pressure of my zipper against my cock.

****

I scanned around the table where my team made up of three experienced hiking guides was seated along with Robbie Khan, our managing director of operations.

We’d opened the first outpost a few years ago, and since then, Garrett Sullivan, and Garrett Merritt, two bearded mountain men who could pass as twins, had trained six other teams in the four other outposts I owned in Colorado and California.

The third guide, Erica Reinhardt, had just moved from Alaska.

After Robbie had given us a detailed update of our newest outdoor center, Erica raised her hand.

“Erica, you’re not at your all-girls school anymore. No need to raise your hand. Just talk,” Garrett Merritt teased.

She sat up. “I was thinking about...” she cleared her throat. “... About maybe a mix between a hike and a day retreat for writers and artists.”

“For them to write?”

“To write?”

The two Garretts asked at the same time.

Two bodies. One mind.

I jerked my chin. “Tell us more, Erica.”

“My sister’s a writer. Last week, I took her on the Purple Trail for a picnic, and she said she had enough inspiration for a whole new book just from our afternoon.”

Garrett Sullivan crossed his arms on his chest and shook his head. “I don’t know Erica. Taking up inexperienced adults who are going to be distracted all the time is a risk.”

“I’ll take them on easy trails. Artists tend to be pretty sensuous—” When Garrett Merritt smirked, she rolled her eyes.

“It means they experience things through all their senses.” She continued.

“Everyone will be welcome, but I was thinking of targeting mostly women. We guide kids, survivalists, and groups with specific skillsets. Why not female artists?”

It was worth trying. “I know a writer, and you might be onto something. Look into it and send me a presentation.”

The young woman nodded. “Will do. Thanks, Jake.”

At the end of the meeting, I got on my feet. “Let’s go for lunch.”

“The boss’s paying. Let’s go big.” Both Garretts said.

****

I was lying in bed when a text from Sile came through.

Silas: Picking up Bianc from the airport.

After I’d texted a thumbs-up emoji, jonesing for my fix of the sexy Sienna Winslow, I logged into the house surveillance system. The screen opened into her quarters, and my cock stirred.

She was in her library, lying on her back with an open book in her hands.

The nightgown flowed over the edge of the couch.

Her legs were crossed at the knees, and the back of her head was propped up on a pillow while her hair fanned over the cream cushion.

I was about to turn off my cell when she sat up.

A couple of minutes later, she was on the move. I folded my arm under the back of my head. She exited her quarters and padded toward the kitchen. When she walked past it, I moved the cell closer. She stopped before my office and reached for the door handle.

Curious kitten.

She slowly twirled in the room. Grazing her slim fingers over the books, she angled her head to the side to read their titles from time to time.

I’d turned off the monitors before leaving, but I shouldn’t have worried, she was just exploring, and I liked her in my space.

She sat in the armchair behind the desk and spun around. Fucking cute.

Jumping off the chair, she peered through the windows for a few seconds. Her tour of the room paused at the bar. She lifted the lid of the crystal decanter of bourbon and bent her nose close to its opening. Fuck knew why, she filled half of a tumbler and took a big swig.

Her body jerked, and she coughed hard. Sputtering, she bent at the waist with her hand around the base of her throat. While she glared at the tumbler, holding it in her hand far from her body as if it were a snake, I couldn’t help but smile.

Then, she poured the remainder of the liquor back into the decanter before setting the glass back on its silver tray.

After she’d gone back to her quarters and disappeared into her bedroom, I set my cell on the bedside table.