Chapter 12
Cruz
I snuggle deeper into the pillow, taking a deep breath and exhaling. The scent of lavender fills my nostrils, the sun still at bay despite the fact that it feels like morning.
Wait. Lavendar.
I blink, taking in the room around me. It isn’t mine. There are curtains on the windows, explaining the lack of bright light. And the mattress beneath me is soft—softer than I’m used to. And then, in a split second, it all comes back.
I roll over, expecting to see Addison lying beside me, but I find the bed empty. I sit up, rubbing my eyes. I hear subtle noise from the kitchen, and then there she is in the bedroom doorway, two cups of what appears to be coffee in her hands.
She shoots me a soft smile—a smile that seems … shy. She stands there for a few seconds, almost as if she’s afraid to cross the threshold. Afraid of me.
I cock my head. “Morning, Princess.”
She bites her lip and stares down at the coffee. Then she approaches, moving to set my mug on the nightstand beside me. She stands a few feet away. “Are things gonna be awkward between us now?” she asks quietly.
A grin stretches across my face. Is that all she’s worried about? “Do you want them to be awkward?”
She rolls her eyes.
“’Cause I could be awkward if you want,” I say, sitting up and reaching for her cup of coffee and setting it beside mine.
Then I grab her waist, pulling her closer so she’s standing between my spread thighs, right against the bed.
I stare up at her. “I could avoid you, I could ignore you, I could make petty jabs at you when I see you around the ranch.”
She fights back a giggle.
My hands encircle her waist, squeezing slightly. Then I push the hem of her tank up just enough to expose her belly. I look up to catch her gaze as I lean forward and slowly slide my tongue across her exposed skin. “Or we could do more of this.”
She’s biting her lip again.
I lean back, fixing her with a smirk. “As much as you drive me crazy, Princess, I like you.”
She grins. A real one this time. “I like you too,” she admits. “Even though you’re kind of arrogant. And annoying.”
“Okay, we were being nice,” I protest, giving her waist a squeeze hard enough to make her squirm. I cock my head. “You know, this is the second time I’ve woken up in your cabin.”
She scrunches up her face. “Technically, the first was outside my cabin.”
I shrug a shoulder. “Potato pot-ah-to.”
She laughs.
I reach my arms around her, pulling her against me hard enough that we both fall back on the bed.
Then I roll us over so that she’s pinned underneath me.
She’s laughing, but as I get to work kissing my way down her neck, her laughs turn to quiet gasps for air.
My hand roams under her tank, finding her breast and teasing her nipple.
She arches her back, her breath picking up.
My hand travels down her stomach, under the waistband of her shorts and panties, finding her center already wet. I insert a finger inside, feeling myself harden as she moans and throws her head back against the mattress.
I insert a second finger, then a third, and she whimpers.
“Your pussy sore from last night, Princess?”
She gives a laugh that quickly turns into another moan. “Someone thinks highly of themself,” she quips, although it comes out breathy.
I chuckle, pumping my fingers a little slower. “I don’t wanna fuck you if you’re hurting.”
“I’m not hurting that bad,” she says, her gaze meeting mine, almost as if challenging me.
I sit up, grabbing her shorts and underwear and pulling them down her legs in one fell swoop.
She yelps in surprise as I spread her legs before me, scooting back on the bed and lowering my head between them.
My eyes are glued to hers as I slide my tongue along her slick entrance.
She’s propped on her elbows, her breasts straining through the thin fabric of her tank, her nipples erect.
I gently probe her opening with my tongue, diving in slowly.
“Fuck,” she mutters, throwing her head back.
I grin, continuing, when something catches my eye. I pause, lifting my head, my gaze zeroing in on the skin above her hip bone. Little marks, lines—no, scars. All across her hip bones and lower belly. A place that underwear or a bikini bottom would easily hide.
My hand moves to her hip almost involuntarily, my thumb running gently over one of the raised lines.
Addison’s breath hitches, and she freezes, staring down at my hand.
“What are these?” I breathe, even though I know exactly what they are.
She’s silent, but she doesn’t pull away.
My gaze flits up to meet hers, her expression a strange mixture of grief and … shame.
“Baby,” I whisper. Not Princess. Not Addison. Because all I can see is the scared, little girl curled up in a ball on the front porch. Is that why she did this to herself? A way to cut through the panic?
She shakes her head, looking away from me. “It’s fine,” she says quickly. “I don’t do it anymore.”
Based on the scars, how healed they look, I believe her.
“Why did you ever do it?” I ask, still gently caressing the scars as if I can rub them away.
She makes a noncommittal noise, but I stare up at her.
I want to know. I need to know. She sighs.
“A distraction,” she finally breathes. “The physical pain helped me cope with … everything up here.” She gestures to her head with a humorless laugh.
Then her expression hardens, and her gaze follows my fingers as they skim over her hip bone.
“I don’t do it anymore,” she repeats, as if saying it again will numb her shame.
But I don’t want her to feel shame at all. And I feel like so much more of a dick for my accidental comment to her last night. There’s so much more to her than I ever imagined.
“You’re so strong, Princess, you know that?” I ask, leaning down to press a kiss to her hip bone.
She blinks down at me in surprise, her lips parting slightly.
“And if anyone ever makes you feel otherwise, you should punch them in the fucking face,” I add. “Even if it’s me.”
This gets a startled laugh out of her.
I grin, but I keep going. “I’m serious,” I say. “I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like shit.”
Her expression softens. “You never made me feel like shit,” she replies softly.
I give her a long look, because I doubt that’s true. And fuck, I wish I could go back in time and take back every not-nice thing I never said to her. “Well, if I ever do,” I say, pressing soft kisses across her hip, her lower belly, “you have my permission to punch me in the face.”
She giggles, but the sound turns into a soft gasp as I move lower. Over her center, tasting every inch of her.
I move up to her clit, drawing slow, lazy circles and loving the noises I’m getting out of her. She whimpers and whines, getting more and more high pitched the closer she gets. But just as I think I’m about to take her over the finish line, she scoots back, closing her legs.
At first, I think she’s self-conscious, that we’ve delved into things far too personal, and that sex is just too much for her right now. But the spark in her eyes says otherwise.
“Get on your back,” she demands.
Surprise flickers through me. I don’t normally like being bossed around, but in this moment, I find myself letting Addison tell me what to do.
I roll over, lying on my back on the bed, awaiting her next move.
Addison sits up, grabbing the hem of her tank and slowly lifting it over her head.
My gaze catches on her bare breasts—full, perky, and so goddamn perfect.
Then she crawls forward, positioning herself between my legs and reaching for the waistband of my sweats. She inclines her head toward me.
“Shirt. Off.”
I smirk, doing as she says and shedding the shirt as she pries my sweats and then my underwear off. And then, her dark eyes on mine, she lowers her mouth to the bottom of my shaft and slowly licks all the way up.
My cock twitches, and my mouth parts slightly.
She does it again, and I clench my jaw. And then she wraps her lips around my tip and descends, taking as much of me as she can.
She bobs her head slowly, taking more of me with each go.
I can tell it’s difficult by the tears welling in her eyes, but she keeps going, relaxing her throat and taking all of me in.
I groan, fisting the bedsheets.
“Fuck, Addison,” I moan.
She moves faster, moaning softly.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m going to come, but I don’t want to yet. Not without her coming too.
“On top of me,” I grit out, and she pauses. “Get on top of me,” I order.
She seems confused so I gesture with my hand. “Turn around so I can eat you out, and you can keep going.”
Understanding dawns on her face, and she does as I say, turning around and then straddling my chest. I grab her hips, pulling her back until her pussy is in line with my mouth, and then I yank her down on top of me.
That delicious whimper of hers fills the room as my tongue makes contact with her clit.
I can feel her steadying herself with a hand to my thigh, her fingers digging into my flesh.
Then her mouth is on my cock again. I gently suck her clit, and she moans around my cock, the vibration causing me to buck my hips.
She grips my thighs harder, rocking her hips against me as I continue sucking.
I grip the flesh of her thighs, her ass, smacking her gently to see how she reacts. She whimpers, bobbing her head faster.
Fuck, Addison Thatcher just might be everything I’ve ever wanted and more.
I spank her again, and she responds by grinding her center harder against me.
I could come at any time now, but I purposefully hold back, gritting my teeth and keeping it at bay.
Instead, I focus on Addison, my tongue against her clit, my fingers entering her and pumping.
She’s moaning louder now, faster, her legs shaking just a bit.
And with a cry, her orgasm hits her, and she pulls her hips away from me, her limbs shaking, her moans suffocating my cock.
It’s then that I let myself go, spilling myself inside her mouth.
She sits up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and glancing at me over her shoulder.
Her hair a mess, her face flushed, this might be the prettiest she’s ever looked.
I grin, reaching for her and pulling her down onto my chest, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Look at you, distracting me from my morning coffee,” I chide.
She smacks my chest and laughs before getting up and heading for the bedroom doorway. “You’re the one distracting me from my shower,” she quips on her way out.
I sit up, watching her go with a silly grin on my face as I reach for my coffee. As I hear the sound of the water in the bathroom turning on, my mind wanders, worry seeping in.
Addison Thatcher is the kind of girl I usually avoid, despite the depth I’m continuing to see in her. The kind of girl who’s broken me in the past. The kind I vowed to never entertain again.
And yet here I am.
And I worry it’s too late for me to turn back now.