Page 33 of It’s Always Been You (Always #1)

She obeyed with no hesitation and eagerly took in the impressive length of him, swallowing him as far as she could.

Travis groaned above her, his hands digging into her hair as he pumped his hips against her.

“I’m going to fuck that mouth and mark every part of your body.

Got me?” He increased his rhythm and ruthlessly held her there.

She tasted the salt of his pre-cum mixed with her own feminine musk.

She wanted him inside her, needed to feel him inside her, but sucking him off with abandon was making her horny as hell as if she could spontaneously combust at any moment.

Cum spurted into her mouth. “Fuck! Take it. You fucking take every last drop of that, babe,” Travis demanded, continuing to fuck her face. She welcomed the warm liquid, letting his seed brand her from the inside.

“You’re fucking mine, every inch of you,” he whispered harshly. He pulled out of her. Bending over her, he hugged her head close to his chest, kissing the top of her head. She could hear the rapid beating of his heart, the fractured breathing of his lungs.

He shifted and plucked her from the couch, carrying her to the bathroom. He sat her on the sink and retrieved a hand towel, soaking it with warm water.

Caitlin watched him, wincing at the cut on his cheekbone. Blood had dripped on his white shirt and dried up there. “Travis, let me clean that cut.” They had stopped at the car earlier for the first aid kit.

“Shh . . .” His voice trailed off. His eyes narrowed in dismay as he stared at her face. “What happened to your forehead?”

Crap .

“Um . . .”

“There’s an angry lump forming—tell me what the fuck happened?” His eyes blinked wildly as if he was trying to recall the events of the night.

“I head butted Duke.” Please don’t ask me why or how.

His eyes turned into a stormy ocean of blue.

His voice was measured when he spoke. “How? He’s a foot taller than you; he’s almost as tall as I—fuck!

Did he have you—” Travis moved between her legs to prove a hunch as he connected the dots in his head.

“You were in the ladies room. Did that fucker do this to you? Did he—”

Her eyes stung, not because of the memory of Duke’s actions, but because Travis’s eyes looked tormented.

“Trav, it’s okay,” she whispered. “He wouldn’t have forced me.”

“He was going to kidnap you.”

She had nothing to say to that. Despite what Duke had done, he never hit her back though. He took it and just took it. Caitlin knew he would never rape her.

Travis was staring at the ceiling, his jaw flexing. He was struggling to maintain control. He took a couple of shallow exhalations and closed his eyes, bowing his head. When he opened them, his hands cupped her face. “Tell me what happened.”

Caitlin told him. Not leaving anything out. He had already gotten hurt because of her. Besides, the truth had a way of slipping out no matter how deep you buried it.

He pulled away, nostrils flaring. “He’s dead.”

“No. Let it go, Travis. Please.”

“He touched you.”

“No, he didn’t. He didn’t get a chance.”

“You could’ve been hurt.”

“Did you see the other guy?” Caitlin teased to lighten his mood.

“I’m not finding this amusing, sunshine. ”

“To his credit, he never hit me. Despite everything I did to him.”

Travis considered this, and shook his head. “You really can take care of yourself.”

“I manage. I don’t think I’d be crazy enough to take on the entire MC.” Her voice turned sharp with the realization of what might have happened if Nicholas Crane hadn’t shown up.

She punched Travis on the shoulder. “You could have been killed!”

“Confident in me much?” Travis muttered.

“We should’ve just run.”

“A SEAL never retreats—”

“Newsflash, Travis. You’re not a SEAL anymore. You’re my husband. And tactically, that was stupid.”

Travis ran his fingers on one side of her face, his expression rueful. “I’m an ass.”

“What?”

“If I’d known what had happened to you, I wouldn’t have fucked you so callously just now. I’m so sorry, Cat.”

Remorse leached through his skin, making her want him to know she was okay. More than okay. She hopped down from her perch and wrapped her arms around his neck. He wouldn’t look at her, so she grabbed his chin so he would.

“I loved what happened between us just now; don’t even think that I didn’t.

You’re right. I do like rough sex.” His eyes flared, so she continued, “I’ll love it more if you make me come.

” Warmth started to replace the haunted look on his face.

“Tell you what, Trav. Let’s take a shower together, and then you’ll let me take care of that gash on your face, and then I’ll let you have me again. But this time, I’m coming first.”

“You got yourself a deal, sunshine girl.”

“First thing we’re gonna do when we get back to DC is get you a wedding ring.”

It was early morning, and the sun was just breaking out on the horizon. They were both awake and Caitlin was lying in the crook of his arm. He raised their entwined fingers, studying how her left hand was resting in his right and lamenting the fact her fingers were bare.

He already had the diamond ring. He picked one out himself.

He had been apprehensive about giving it to her, not wanting to spook her.

But after the misunderstanding last night, he’d be insisting she wear his ring.

They were getting married again, too. Caitlin was his wife.

End of story. The sooner she became Caitlin Blake, the more settled he’d be about their relationship.

“Hmm . . . mm,” Caitlin mumbled.

Travis lowered his gaze on her blonde head. “I’m serious, babe. None of this mistaken shit of you being unmarried.”

“Okay, Travis.”

His brow shot up. That was too easy.

“And as soon as I can arrange it, we’re getting married again and making you officially Caitlin Blake,” he added.

Her body stiffened. Okay, maybe he was going too fast. But damn it, couldn’t she see how perfect they were for each other?

She hadn’t admitted she was in love with him yet, and that was the root of all his insecurities.

He was insanely and irrevocably in love with her, while she was still making up her mind.

“Maybe someday,” she added finally.

“Too pushy?” It was a good thing Travis was a morning person.

“Yes.”

“I love you, Caitlin.”

She splayed her fingers against his and snuggled closer. “More than halfway there, Travis.”

He could accept that for now.

Travis smiled as he watched Caitlin salivate over the plate of buttermilk pancakes that was set before her.

A syrupy consistency of peach honey compote was lavishly drizzled on top.

Her eyes shifted excitedly to the plate holding an assortment of artisan breakfast sausages.

A crusty boule sat on the rustic cutting board.

“I’m going to gain ten pounds in a week,” Caitlin gushed to the innkeeper, Ms. Betty, who just brought in a carafe of freshly brewed coffee.

“Heavens, dear. You need to put on some weight,” Ms. Betty replied.

She was a tiny lady, not quite five feet.

She was a retired schoolteacher whose dream was to hold on to the Bluebell Bed and Breakfast—a family estate home.

The market crash of the 1930’s had brought the place to disarray.

The family slowly renovated the home to what it was today.

Much had changed. Most of the estate became the small town of Iron Ridge, and the main street passed right in front of the B&B.

“I agree,” Travis said. “Although, I wonder where you store everything you eat. I swear you eat as much as I do.”

Caitlin flashed him an indignant look. “Well, I’m not the one with zero body fat!”

“I like your fat. It’s in all the right places.”

“If that’s your idea of flattery, you’ve got a lot to learn,” Caitlin fired back, but there was a merry glint in her eyes.

Travis sighed. He really had to stop behaving like a lovesick puppy. He couldn’t help it. Every nuance of her, every action, every pucker of her forehead, and God, every smile, simply tugged at his heart. Every. Single. Time.

“So what are you lovebirds planning today?” Ms. Betty asked.

“What do you want to do, Cat?”

“I noticed several shops when we rolled in yesterday.” Turning to the innkeeper, Caitlin asked, “Any place you’d suggest?”

“There’s an artisan shop that features pottery, blown glass, and metal work.

I’d recommend checking that out first. Their pieces are one of a kind and made by our local artists.

” She looked at Travis. “If you’re a fan of World War II antiques, the outskirts of town has a man that sells them. Town’s eclectic.”

Sounded like it, Travis figured. War and peace. War vets and the hippies.

Ms. Betty’s brows furrowed. “I’m glad you folks decided to stay after the trouble at Foster Bar last night. Sorry about that.”

“S’all good,” Travis replied. “Why are you apologizing? It’s not your fault.”

“I watched that boy Duke grow up. He’s a good kid.

Careful about that sister of his though.

She’s a wily one. She brings in this posse of club women from other counties and they’re the ones starting the trouble for the locals.

Hear she took a shine to you last night.

” Betty nodded to Caitlin before looking at Travis.

“Fine lady you have here, don’t know why Bella thinks you’d take a bite. ”

Fuck. That was one tiny detail he forgot to tell Caitlin.

The innkeeper left the breakfast room, unaware of the bomb she’d just dropped. And hoping Caitlin had not picked up on that was wishful thinking.

“Duke’s sister hit on you?” Caitlin asked a little too casually.

“Yes. It was nothing,” Travis said, taking a sip of coffee. “See, I even forgot about it.”

“It seems like something if even the innkeeper, who was not at the bar last night, already heard about it by 8:00 a.m. the following day.”

“Small town. You’re getting worked up about nothing. ”