Page 8 of Katie 3 (Desires #6)
Chapter eight
Brad
I ’m over all this bullshit. I went to work and didn’t get any looks, but the entire time, I just wanted to be with Katie. I’ve worried about her. Worried about our baby. Worried about my girl being grabbed by Dan or any of the guys he was plotting with.
And now I’m stuck waiting on my father in his office. My foot taps. I’m eager to get out of here, to move on, to get to Katie. I need her. I need to wrap myself around her, bury myself inside her, hold her in my arms. She has to know she’s not alone.
The door opens and shuts with a click.
It’s more damning than a slam.
Well, maybe. If my father were slamming doors at work, it would be earthshattering. I lean back, trying to embody a man unworried by anything. By the time my father sits down, I know I’ve failed. He glowers at me.
“Dan is moving forward,” he informs.
“He shouldn’t. I have plenty on him and he has no evidence,” I reply with a shrug.
He scoffs. “A recording?”
“Have you even listened to it?! He wanted to…” I can’t say the word. Saying the word would mean his plan has some weight.
He sighs. “He wanted to do what?”
I tell him a shortened version of what I let Carter hear. My dad pauses and just stares at me. There’s no answer. I’m not even sure he’s breathing. There’s so much tension in him that I think he’s turned to stone or something.
Then he closes his eyes and massages his temples. He sits back and I see the lawyer mask drop on his face. “He didn’t do it.”
“Because I stepped in!”
“It doesn’t matter. You committed a crime before another crime could be committed. Vigilantism is a crime. You committed a crime. He planned one. He didn’t go through with it. He wasn’t able to move forward with it. His friends haven’t touched her. You’re still in the wrong.”
I stand up and put my bruised hands on his desk. I want to slap them down, but I resist the urge. I exhale slowly. “So you’re okay with someone plotting—”
“Of course I’m not, but I wouldn’t tie someone to a tree and beat the hell out of them. That’s a hostage situation—it’s assault and battery. It’s attempted murder in the right hands. It’s torture in lesser hands. It’s years upon years of a guilty verdict.”
“You’re a lawyer. Make it so I didn’t do it!” I demand.
“Lower your voice in my office,” he grits.
I take a slow breath and draw back. “Just tell me what you need from now on.”
“I need you to be a pillar of society. Someone who would never do such a thing to a person. We need total deniability. You hit him once for not letting Katie go. Done. You’re her boyfriend. Done. Everything else requires you to be the golden child. Make it happen.”
Katie
A door slams, waking me from a nap I’m not supposed to be taking. I lift my head from my book and scan around. Brad storms in and goes right upstairs, then comes down a moment later in his gym clothes.
He kisses my forehead. “I’m coming back later for you.”
“Brad?” I ask.
He doesn’t stop. He just keeps going, not slowing down for a second. Carter comes in a moment later, looks at how I’m set up on the couch, and gives me a quick-made meal. “Eat.”
“But he—”
“Don’t worry about him. Worry about me being alone with you and being determined to distract you from every homework assignment,” he says.
I blink at him. “Why?”
“Because it’s been more than an hour since I was inside you and I didn’t get to fuck your mouth or your ass,” he says.
I chuckle at his joke but as his brow lifts, I realize he’s being serious.
I eat quickly, then find him in the kitchen.
He’s cooking something else. Probably a real dinner instead of a snack.
Since he’s made it clear that he wants more of me, I decide to take the lead.
I don’t get to often with my men. They like the hunt and the chase.
They like to make me beg, like to bring me to the edge of my sanity or threaten to ruin me entirely and remake me in their image.
So when I sink to my knees in front of Carter, he just stares at me for a moment. “What are you doing?”
I open my mouth as I stare up at him. He takes a shaky breath. “Is this how you offer a blow job?”
“Would you rather put me on the table on my back and use me?” I ask.
He groans at the idea, but drops his pants, grabs my hair, and thrusts into my open mouth without questioning it. He’s only half hard, but it won’t take long to fix that. I lick and suck his cock, choking on him again and again because he doesn’t take it easy on me.
“So fucking good, doll. You’re meant to blow me. Every bit of you is so damn perfect,” he snarls while gripping my chin and fucking my mouth the way he needs.
I thought I had control, but he’s always in charge.
He pounds into my throat. I feel him again and again, choking me, gagging me, owning my throat and mouth the way only my men can. My eyes roll back as I stick out my tongue to take him deeper. Carter lets out a guttural groan, then jerks back, letting me drool over my chin.
His cock is right in front of my face, slick with my spit. He pulls me up and bends me over the counter. “You’re getting more than a fucking appetizer.”
He drags my leggings down to my ankles and thrusts into me hard and fast. He grips my hair and jerks my head back. My moans echo and spread through the kitchen, but there’s no pretending that this is about my pleasure.
It’s carnal need, which threatens to turn me into something more needy and demanding than myself. He slams into me on repeat, kissing and biting my throat. “Mine. You are mine. Fucking mine.”
“Carter!” I yelp as my hips bounce against the counter.
He lifts me higher, still holding me in place while my hair spills around me. “Say it!”
“I’m yours. I’m yours. Don’t stop.”
“Tell me how much you like it rough,” he demands.
I gasp and tremble as he fucks me harder, always harder, always deeper, like he can own me out of sheer will. I tell him everything he wants. That I love it rough, that I want him to fill me over and over again, that I can take it. That I crave it. It’s all true.
When he slaps my ass while nearly bottoming out, I come apart. He follows a few seconds later, panting in my ear as he shudders and folds himself around me.
I’m not going anywhere.