I walked to his dresser and set my bag on top.
He took his clothes into the closet, tossing them in the dirty laundry bin for someone to wash later. His closet wasn’t stuffed with suits and ties like my brother’s was. It was full of plain t-shirts and jeans, a few long sleeves and sweaters, along with a couple jackets. He was a simple man with simple tastes. “Make yourself comfortable.” He headed into the bathroom.
I watched him walk away, buck naked, and that tight ass was incredible. No way was I going to stay in the bedroom alone when there was a fine piece of man about to get into the shower. I followed him.
He had a large shower with glass doors, and he was already inside under the warm water, rubbing a bar of soap everywhere, cleaning every inch of his skin, lathering his dick and cleaning his balls. Even when he was soft, he still had a nice dick, distinct and long.
I sat on the toilet and watched the show.
He shampooed his hair, rinsed, and then turned off the water, just as sexy wet as he was when he was sweaty. He pushed the door open and grabbed the towel, noticing me sitting there. He gave a slight smile then dried off before he stepped onto the mat in front of the shower. “You’re eager.”
I shrugged. “I know what I want.”
“Damn right.” He scrubbed the towel over his hair last before he hung it back on the rack, to be reused tomorrow.
I got to my feet and walked out of the bathroom, knowing he was right behind me. I sat on the bed and scooted back before I lay flat, placing my heels against his bare chest. His bed was higher than mine, the perfect level for him to stand and fuck me deep.
He grabbed one ankle then loosened the strap on my shoe so he could slip it off. He did the same with the other before he pushed up my dress around my hips and grabbed my panties. I lifted my hips as he pulled the panties down over my thighs and to my feet. When they were off, he left them on the bed, like he wanted to see them in his periphery while he fucked me. “This is how you want it?” He grabbed my hips and dragged me down so my ass hung over the edge. He pulled my knees apart so I was open to him, our bodies close together.
My hands flattened against his abs, and I bit my bottom lip as I nodded. “I want to look at you…”
He stared down at me with his beautiful eyes, so bright but so dark at the same time. He was a pretty man, but he was so hard in every other way that he looked vicious. Without wetting himself, he guided his dick to my entrance and moistened his tip that way, smearing himself in the moisture that had already soaked my panties from watching him in the shower. Then he slid inside, inching farther and farther until only a few inches remained outside my body.
I closed my eyes and moaned, like it was the first time all over again. I grabbed his hips and pulled him a little farther, wincing when his size started to hurt me. I opened my eyes again, watching him grow even more turned on as he watched me hurt myself on purpose, wanting all of him regardless of the pain.
He started to rock into me, sliding his dick inside me over and over, his balls lightly tapping against my ass at the end of every thrust. His hands continued to grip my hips and hold me still as he moved inside me, giving me that fat dick like I was the only woman he wanted to give it to.
His expression tightened, as if watching me enjoy him was an additional turn-on. He started to move faster and harder, tugging me as he thrust at the same time.
I held on to his hips and pushed myself forward, slamming into him with the same desire, my legs opened and my tits shaking from our movements. “Heath…” My head rolled back, and I was suddenly pulled under by the goodness, by the explosion between my legs.
He watched me until I finished, controlling himself so I could enjoy every second before he brought it to an end.
“Wait…” My nails dug into his skin. “Not yet…”
He stopped for a moment, his eyes locked and focused. But he obeyed and started to move again. “Yes, baby.”
Three
Heath
I flipped the chicken in the pan as I stood at the stove. Catalina looked out the floor-to-ceiling window to the city at her feet. She was in one of my shirts, so big that it fit her like a blanket. I glanced at her as I listened to the food sizzle in the hot oil, staring at her long, curled hair as it trailed down her back. She looked good in my shirt, and she looked even better in my house.
Like she belonged there.
When the meat started to sizzle louder, I turned back to what I was doing and flipped it again. The asparagus cooked in a different pan, so I flipped that too. “It’s almost ready.”
She flinched slightly at my words, as if she’d forgotten I was there, forgotten what she was doing. She slowly turned around and looked at me, her expression tight, like there was a demon locked inside her chest, haunting her.
I turned off the burners and set down the spatula, knowing whatever she was about to say next was important.
She came close to me, her eyes defeated, her posture poor like she’d been beaten in combat. She dropped her gaze, thinking about her words before she said them. “I need you to do something for me…”
Without knowing what the request was, I already knew my answer. “Anything.”
She dropped her gaze again, opening and closing her lips like she wanted to speak but just couldn’t get the words out. “Promise me you’ll never hurt my brother…no matter what happens with us.”
I hadn’t asked her if she’d visited her family today because I preferred not to think about them, to see Catalina as her own woman with no attachment to my enemies. But she must have seen Damien today, saw the bruise on his head, witnessed his rage after his plan unraveled with a simple phone call. She probably felt guilty that she was the reason her brother had lost the battle, knowing he would have won if she’d kept her mouth shut.
She searched my gaze as she waited for an answer.
“He’s not going to let it go, is he?” I gave Damien so many chances, but he was emotional and stupid, holding a grudge like a knife in his grasp. I did everything I could to spare his life, found other ways to punish him when I never would have considered them in the first place.
She shook her head.
I turned away, frustrated that this motherfucker was making my life difficult, making me shoot one of my own men to protect his pathetic life.
“Please,” she whispered. “I saved your life…”
I stared at the stove as I took a deep breath, frustrated by her words. “Baby, I would make you that promise even if you hadn’t done what you did.” I straightened and turned back to her.
She moved into me, cupping my face as she pressed her forehead to my chin. “Thank you.”
I abandoned the food altogether and wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her close so I could hold her in the kitchen, feel her soul, smell her scent. Every moment of the day, I felt like a strong man, but whenever she was in my arms, I felt inexplicably weak. She was my undoing, the rose petals to my thorns.
She clung to me in relief, like my promise meant the world to her because she knew I would keep it. Maybe she thought it balanced the scales for her brother, since she’d betrayed him. Her arms circled my neck, and she held me in my kitchen, the sexiest woman to stand there, the only woman to ask me for something and actually get it.