Page 30 of Wild Hearts (Ruby Ridge #1)

catalina

. . .

T he storm is over. The wind is gone, the thunder long passed, and what’s left behind is the kind of silence that rings in your ears. I fucking made it through my first tornado, and I didn’t die. From him, though? That might still be on the fucking table.

I shift carefully, slipping out of Carter’s arms where he’d wrapped himself around me sometime during the night. My body aches in that slow, heavy way that comes after adrenaline has burned through you and left nothing behind but exhaustion and raw nerves.

He stirs as soon as I move, his arm reaches across the space I just vacated, finding nothing. His brows draw together, and then his eyes blink open, soft, hazy, and unfairly blue, clouded with sleep and something darker that makes heat flicker low in my belly.

“Mornin’,” he rasps, his voice deep and rough with sleep, his heavy Southern drawl curling around the word like honey.

For fuck sake.

My body reacts before my brain can even pretend to talk it down, a rush of heat surges straight to my already soaked lace panties.

I swallow and try to sound normal.

“Good morning,” I manage. “Sleep well?”

His lips curl into the laziest, cockiest smile I’ve ever seen, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to me and loves every second of it.

“I sleep better when you’re next to me.”

Oh?

His gaze drags over me slowly, lingering like a touch, not even bothering to pretend it’s innocent. His eyes are still half-lidded with sleep, but what’s behind them is anything but soft.

It’s dangerous. Possessive. Hot enough to make me feel like I might actually scream.

God, why does he have to look so fucking good in the morning?

I sit up straighter, tugging the blanket tighter around me even though I’m still fully clothed. It doesn’t matter. My entire body is humming, sensitive, and aching in the most infuriating way.

He stretches, and I nearly fucking lose it.

One long, slow pull of his arms above his head, muscles flexing beneath his thin t-shirt, hem rising just enough to flash a strip of inked skin and those goddamn abs that look carved from sin itself.

I’ve seen him shirtless before but, fuck, I need to get railed.

“I need a shower,” he mutters, running a hand through his messy hair, scrubbing down his face like he’s trying to shake off the leftover sleep.

“Oh my God, Carter,” I blurt, throwing the blanket off in frustration. “You cannot say shit like that in that voice, stretch like that in that shirt, and then just casually mention needing a shower like I’m not sitting here physically fighting the urge to climb you like a tree.”

You dumb bitch. Really?

He freezes. Then slowly—so fucking slowly—his head turns toward me. Those blue eyes go darker, hungrier.

“I’m not stopping you,” he says, low and dangerous, like he’s not entirely kidding.

“Don’t say shit like that unless you mean it,” I bite out, my whole body buzzing, as my heart hammers against my chest. “Because I swear to God, if you push me to the edge again and back away, I will find someone else to fuck me out of my misery.”

He just smirks like the smug asshole he is.

“There’s not a chance in hell I’d let anyone else touch you,” he says, sitting up. “And if you think I don’t want to bury myself inside you right now and make you forget everyone you’ve ever been with, you clearly haven’t been paying attention.”

I inhale sharply, thighs squeezing together again. “Then why haven’t you?” I demand, breathless. “If you want me that badly, why do you keep stopping?”

He reaches for me, slowly, brushing his thumb over my bottom lip. “Because the second I’m inside you,” he murmurs, “I’m not going to be able to stop.”

My stomach grumbles at the worst possible time. Great. Now I’m starving on top of being horny and emotionally wrecked—the trifecta of unhinged womanhood.

I sigh dramatically, peel myself off the bed, and toss the blanket on the floor.

I walk down the hall toward the stairs, my bare feet quiet on the hardwood. I’m mindlessly scrolling on my phone when a sound breaks the silence.

Low, deep, and unmistakable.

A moan.

My pulse spikes instantly, and heat creeps up the back of my neck. Curiosity hits hard. I know I shouldn’t move toward it. I know I should turn around, grab a granola bar, or do literally anything else. Being nosy is going to be the death of me, but I can’t fucking help it.

Each step draws me closer to the source, toward Carter’s bedroom, toward the half-cracked bathroom door that’s practically begging me to look.

The steady rush of the shower fills the air, and steam curls out into the hallway in thick, lazy tendrils.

The scent of cedar and pine is rich and heavy, wrapping around me like warm arms.

“Fuck, baby. Open your pretty little mouth for me.”

I slap my hand over my mouth so fast it’s embarrassing, stifling the gasp that shoots out of me like a firecracker. My knees hit the floor before I even think about it, inching closer, pulled forward by pure curiosity, and okay, maybe because I’m desperate.

The steam is thick enough to blur everything, but not enough to hide the sounds. Not enough to stop the picture forming behind my eyelids—Carter under the spray, water cascading down his inked body, his hand wrapped around his cock, and his head thrown back.

He’s not just jerking off, he’s doing it to me .

“Take my cock down your throat, princess,” he groans, “take it like a good girl.”

A broken, feral sound tears from his chest, and I nearly fucking come right there on the goddamn floor.

My panties are soaked, my thighs are clenching so tight it hurts, my mouth is dry, my skin flushed, and my pussy is pulsing in betrayal because all I’ve gotten lately is tension, teasing, and one very inconvenient kiss that tasted like a dream.

Now I’m here, crawling on his hardwood floor like some depraved little slut while he jerks off to the thought of me choking on his cock.

Godddddd.

I press my hand tighter over my mouth, trying to stay silent, but my body’s already trembling. I can still feel the ghost of his mouth between my legs, the way he sucked my clit like he was starved. I can still taste his groan from last night, the one he gave me when he kissed me like he meant it.

I start to crawl closer, edging toward the steam like the filthy little whore I am, ready to burn my life down for a glimpse of his soaked, swollen co-

My phone explodes to life.

“I’m a Barbie Girl” blasts through his bedroom at full volume.

FUCK.

Layla you bitch, you just HAD to call me.

“Oh my fucking God!” I scream whisper.

I fling myself backward, scrambling on my hands and knees across the floor, crashing into the nearest pile of blankets as I dive for my phone.

It keeps shrieking through the silence like some cursed plastic demon, as I stab at the screen with shaky fingers, praying to every God that’s ever existed .

Ma-maybe, he didn’t hear it over the shower?

Yeah right you stupid bitch.

Before I can bolt, before I can save myself from the embarrassment, a single drop of water splashes onto my hand. My heart stutters in my chest as I slowly tilt my head up, already knowing what I’m going to see but completely unprepared for it.

Carter towers above me, and steam emits around his frame like it knows it’s not the hottest thing in the room. His towel rides low on his hips, his sharp V-lines on display. His skin glistens with water, each drop sliding over sculpted muscle and black ink like it’s being drawn just for me.

Lord, have mercy on my soul.

His broad chest rises and falls with every ragged breath, his muscles flex with each minimal movement as he barely holds his towel. Light blue eyes burn down at me as I kneel at his feet, and when his mouth curves into that slow, lethal smirk, I know I’m not walking away from this.

He tilts his head. “You like what you heard, princess?”

My cheeks flush. Still, I push up onto my feet, refusing to flinch. I meet his gaze head-on, chest rising in uneven breaths as I force out a mocking smile.

“Too bad I didn’t get to see any of it,” I bite back, even though my heart is trying to beat its way out of my chest.

His grin spreads. “You want a show?” he says, “or are you just here to finally admit you’re dying to be fucked?”

Before I can answer, he gently grips my wrists and guides me into the steam-filled bathroom like he’s done it a thousand times in his head.

Without a second thought, he lets the towel drop, entering the shower again.

Holy fuck.

Carter Hayes is fucking huge .

His cock bobs free, already heavy in his hand as he wraps his fingers around the base and strokes once, slow and sure, my knees nearly buckle at the sight.

“Do you see what you do to me, Catalina?” he growls. “I fucking ache when I’m near you.”

My mouth instantly waters. My eyes drop to where his hand is working his length, slow and lazy like he’s got all the time in the world while I stand here losing my goddamn mind.

I rip his oversized t-shirt over my head and climb into the shower with him, the hot water hitting my skin like a jolt. My body collides with his, slick skin against slick skin, and Carter finally snaps.

He lowers his face to mine, breath hot against my ear, his voice dropping to a sinful whisper.

“Look at you,” he rasps, “so fucking desperate for my cock, darlin’.”

The need inside me is blinding. I shove him back against the tiled wall, my fingers threading through his thick, wet hair, yanking him down as I crash my mouth to his. Our kiss is savage, wild, teeth clashing, tongues tangling, like neither of us can get enough.

I whimper against him, feeling the hard press of his cock against my stomach, my legs weak from the sheer want flooding through me.

“Please,” I gasp.

He pulls back just enough to smirk down at me, his hand curling possessively around the back of my neck. “Please what, baby?”

I glare up at him, breathless, ready to explode if he doesn’t touch me properly in the next second. “Please,” I growl, dragging my nails lightly down his chest, “fuck me.”

He lifts me effortlessly, gripping my ass tightly in his rough hands as he hauls me up against his body.

I wrap my arms around his neck, yanking him closer as I slam my mouth against his, sucking gently on his lower lip.

His whole body trembles, and a deep growl vibrates from his chest straight into mine.

God, my pussy is throbbing so bad it hurts.

Still holding me easily, he grabs the thick base of his cock, dragging his crown along my soaked slit, teasing me, rubbing slow, lazy circles around my entrance, coating himself in my slick.

“You feel that, princess?” he growls against my neck. “Your pretty little pussy’s already begging for me, fucking soaked just from riding my thigh.”

He thrusts the swollen tip inside, stretching me just barely before he slams his full length deep into me with one sharp, brutal snap of his hips. My breath punches out of me, as my head falls back with the instant rush of pleasure.

“Fuck,” I gasp, clawing into his shoulders. “You’re so big, Carter, I-”

He smirks darkly, bringing his thumb to my mouth, pressing it against my lips. “Shh,” he murmurs, “open up, baby. Be good for me.”

I part my lips, taking him in, as I suck his thumb deep into my mouth, my tongue swirling around it greedily. His pupils dilate as he watches me, pure fucking hunger in his eyes.

“That’s it, darlin’,” he says, “look at you, so fuckin’ needy for it. You can take it, you’re gonna take all of me.”

He buries himself inside me again, grinding his hips up hard, making me feel every thick inch of him.

The water from the shower beats down on us, cascading off our wet bodies as he pounds into me, his cock stroking every sensitive spot .

“Fuck, Catalina,” he groans, his mouth hot against my jaw. “You’re so goddamn tight around me. Squeezing my cock like you were made for it.”

I moan loudly, crying out his name as I cling to him, my whole body shuddering with every thrust. He slows down, dragging it out, torturing me until I am a writhing, desperate mess.

“Look at me,” he commands.

I keep my eyes screwed shut, too lost in the pleasure to think straight.

“Catalina,” he snarls, his grip tightening on my ass. “Eyes on me, baby. I want to see you fall apart.”

I force my eyes open, meeting his fierce, blistering gaze. The moment our eyes lock, his pace speeds up. His cock slams into me with obscene wet sounds as he wrecks me against the cold tile wall.

“Keep those pretty eyes on mine,” he growls, fucking into me harder. “while I fuck every last moan out of you.”

I’m close, so fucking close. I can barely breathe, my hands slide against the wet muscles of his back, clawing at him.

He quickens his pace, slamming into me harder against the tiled wall.

“Come on, baby,” he rasps. “I wanna feel you lose it, make a mess all over my cock. I want you dripping all over me when you fall apart.”

I shatter with a scream, my body convulsing around him, wave after wave of white-hot pleasure crashing through me. My orgasm drags him over the edge, too. With a savage growl, he thrusts deep, holding me tight as he spills inside me, claiming me completely.

Panting, he sinks to the shower floor with me still wrapped around him, his back against the slick tiles. He cups my face, brushing wet strands of hair away with surprising tenderness, blue eyes searching mine.

“We can’t do this again,” he whispers, his forehead pressed against mine.

“Tell me this isn’t a mistake,” I finally say.

He pulls back, his tortured eyes meeting mine, searching for an answer.

He looks torn between guilt and desire, they search mine as if he’s trying to memorize me, hoping that if he does, he can survive the moment when we pretend this didn’t mean anything.

“I can’t call it a mistake,” he says, “not when it felt like the only thing that’s ever been right.”