Chapter 18 – Jensen
Catalina rocks up onto her knees before slowly sinking back down onto me.
My mind's been quiet since we landed in Tennessee.
Normally, I'd chalk that up to the mountain air and being home.
But I know that's not the reason. It's been quiet since I stepped onto the tarmac in Los Angeles and saw her waiting there.
Sitting in the seat beside mine, wearing that pretty smile only I get to see.
Her tight pussy squeezes my cock. Her breasts flatten against my chest, and her fingers are looped tightly around my neck like she’s afraid to let go.
I hope that she doesn't.
I’m not thinking about what’s respectful or disrespectful anymore. I’m thinking about her and her choosing this. Me. Us. Whatever the hell this is turning into that feels like a lot more than just mutual attraction, a one-night stand we shared that turned into two, and friendship.
I capture her mouth with mine, slide my tongue inside hers and taste her.
She always tastes so good. She smells good too.
Her fingers move to my neck, where she plays with the damp strands of hair.
I feel the softness in her touch everywhere—down my spine, in my gut, low in my hips, a lot in my heart.
There’s an art to kissing that people don’t talk about enough.
The push and pull—one leading, the other following, the give and the take.
It’s like dancing, which is something else I just know Catalina must be good at.
She teases the same way she moves through life.
Confidently. And it's so damn intimidating even when I know she wants me back. Maybe because I’m not sure if it’s for good.
Pair that with her slick, bare pussy wrapped around my cock, and I’m already seeing stars behind my eyes that tell me this might all be too good to be true for a man like me.
“Hold on, Kitty,” I murmur against her eager mouth. “Easy.”
She dives her fingers into my hair and holds me there, refusing to let me pull away from our kiss.
I chuckle against her lips. Her heavy breasts rub against my chest with each shift of her hips, the water lapping around our bodies, warm enough to make everything feel like something straight out of a movie.
"Slow down, Kitty, you're going too fast," I say.
She doesn't slow.
I think a lot of women believe men hold all the power in relationships. That we're the ones with endless options, doors opening everywhere we turn, while they're the ones trying to earn our attention.
Maybe that's because the patriarchy has spent generations convincing women they have less power than they really do. Because if there's one thing I've learned, it's that women have no idea how much influence they have over us simple-minded men.
If only they knew the truth.
The truth is that when it comes to a woman we’re interested in, a woman who looks at us the right way, asks for something in that quiet, dangerous voice they have, we’re helpless. There’s almost nothing we wouldn’t do for her if she asked. No line we wouldn’t cross. No pride we wouldn’t swallow.
Because while we might be the ones reaching for them, they’re the ones holding the real gift. They’re the ones who decide if we get to touch them. If we get to taste them. If we get to feel their beautiful bodies open for us at all.
And when they do… a man will spend the rest of his life trying to be worthy of getting just one more chance.
It's quiet out here under the Tennessee stars.
One of my favorite parts of being in the country at my grandma's house. No witnesses. No people snapping photos in your face asking about your next ride and whether your heart's holding up from the surgery. I know it’s doing just fine. Because the doctor who fixed it is currently in my arms, kissing me like I’m something special.
“Hold on,” I say again with a chuckle. “Baby, slow down. I’m not wearing a condom.”
“I don’t care.”
I pull back from our kiss, forcing her to take a break so that I can study her face carefully. Determination is carved into her usually serious features. That’s gone now. She's relaxed, she's smiling, she's breathless. She’s happy. She’s sure about this.
God, she’s pretty. Pretty in a way that I've never seen up close in any other woman before. Maybe because I didn't care to notice. Maybe because Catalina’s unique to me. Because it's not just her physical appearance, it's everything about her that makes her beautiful.
I swear whoever was with her before didn’t talk about her inner and outer beauty enough—because she clearly has no idea how crazy she makes me. How hard her body makes me.
I grip her hip and squeeze. My shoulder is screaming at me to slow the hell down.
My body is telling me that it's a risk not to wear a condom with her, even if she's on birth control. I lift her carefully onto the edge of the tub until she’s sitting there.
Her nipples pebble instantly, reacting to the sudden brush of cooler air.
All I can think is yeah, I'm sucking on those next.
I lean forward and take one in my mouth, lavishing it with my tongue.
“Yes,” she hisses. One of her arms wraps tightly around my neck, keeping me latched on her breast.
I circle her nipple with my tongue, flick it once, twice, before moving to the other. I test the weight of her breasts in my hands, loving how she arches into my palms like she wants me to squeeze them. I do. Hard. Her knees fall open for me like a flower opening.
She's so responsive. Whoever made her believe she was cold was a downright idiot. There’s nothing but heat radiating off her from the inside out, especially between her thighs.
How is it that her ex wouldn't want to be between these legs every night after she finished surgery? I'll never understand it.
I pull off her nipple and look between her open legs. Her pussy is wet and shining, and not just from the water. My hands slide up her thighs slowly, thumbs parting her open so I can see all of her.
“This what you want?” I ask.
She nods eagerly, almost frantic.
I kneel in the water and drag my tongue across her slit, slow at first, then up over her clit, flicking right there. Her taste hits me—salt and sweet, soft and sharp. The perfect contradiction. The smart, beautiful, cynical, and clinical woman under my mouth.
Her fingers tangle in my hair, directing me exactly where she wants me most. If I were the praying type, I’d pray this isn’t the last time she looks at me with this kind of hunger.
That this won’t be the last time she wants me to taste her.
That she wants more than just my tongue in her pussy for a night.
“Tell me what you want,” I ask, knowing damn well what I want the answer to be. I hum against her clit and slip two fingers inside her pussy, curling upward until her lips part around a moan that shoots straight through my cock.
“More,” she gasps.
“More of what, Kitty?”
She leans back on her palms, head tipping toward the sky like she can’t hold it in.
“More of your rough fingers inside me. I like how long they are.”
“What else?” I slide my tongue over her clit again, circling it and then slip a third finger inside her. She stretches around me so perfectly her pussy clenches like she’s thanking me for it.
“Do you ever think about me taking this ass?” I ask. I twist my thumb downward just enough to tease her puckered hole.
“I’ve never done that before.”
“I think you’d like it. I could make it feel really good for you.”
“I think I’d like a lot of things I’ve never tried because I've been too scared.”
I hope that means me. I hope that means falling for me.
She breathes out on a sigh, “Have you ever considered putting lights out here?”
I pause my licking and grin up at her. “No. Because there was nothing worth seeing at night. Now that you're here, there is.”
Her brown eyes soften a little as she looks down at me settled between her legs. That’s enough to flip something dangerous inside me.
"I'll install them tomorrow."
She lets out a surprised laugh. “Jensen.”
I lower my head and pull her clit into my mouth, flicking faster while my fingers thrust deeper, curling until she turns into a shaking, breathy mess, her sounds echoing off the deck and carrying into the night air.
"Oh... oh shit.” She’s panting. “Jensen. Give me your cock. Fuck me, please, Jensen.”
I pull back, stand up, licking her taste from my lips.
My soaked boxers get stripped off and tossed out of the water, landing on the deck with a wet thwap.
I move to the edge, grip her thighs and pull her right to the point where the deck connects to the tub, her feet dipping into the hot tub while my cockhead nudges her opening.
I drag my cock through her slickness, teasing her entrance, letting her feel exactly how hard she’s made me before I prop both of her heels on the lip of the tub to spread her open.
“You want me to put on a condom?” I ask her again to be sure she knows what we're doing.
She shakes her head. “I’m on birth control. I’m clean. Are you?”
“I am. But there's always still a risk of...” I swallow the rest of that sentence.
Pregnancy. Not something I'm scared about, but I'm thinking Catalina might not be ready to have a baby with me.
She nods, "I'm not worried about that."
Then she grabs my neck and pulls me into a kiss that shuts off every bit of fear.
Every bit of constant buzzing in my head.
The rides. The future. What she wants from me.
Whether I’m just a fun fuck. My head just quiets.
My body listens. It’s just her heartbeat against mine, syncing up like it’s always been waiting for this.
Waiting for her. And any words about respecting her too much to do this again?
Yeah. They fly straight out the window. We’re doing this again. Multiple times, actually.
Maybe she doesn’t understand my need to keep riding in the rodeo.
Maybe she never will. Maybe she won’t ask me to quit ever again like she promised, but I think she'll always think it quietly inside her pretty head.
I know that worry will always be in the back of her mind.
She'll always look at the danger before she looks at the man.
But maybe I’ve found something that replaces my love of riding...
I thrust into her in one deep, claiming stroke. Heat. Tightness. Home. I wrap her leg around my hip, feeling her moan against my mouth as her pussy clenches around me, grounding me harder than any eight-second whistle and a bull that wants to kill me ever has.
“Harder,” she breathes, barely a whisper.
I lose myself in her. In the way she looks at me with those sharp brown eyes that miss nothing. In the way she feels around me—warm, wet, and trusting—with nothing between us.
In the friendship that snuck up on me. The one I never expected to mean this much to either of us.
She’s not just the doctor who stitched me back together or some unexpected run-in that pushed us back into each other’s lives. She’s Catalina. Doctor Alba. Kitty. And somehow, right now, she’s all three at once for me.
I also know that she’s much more outside of me.
She’s a daughter. A sister. A woman with a soft heart she keeps guarded behind surgical steel and logic and those clinical expressions she thinks I can’t read.
A woman who deserves someone who takes care of her heart the way she takes care of every person who's ever stepped into her OR.
Carefully.
I drive into her deeper, my hand cups the back of her neck as she arches upward, pulling me closer, her grip tight like she needs me pressed against her as much as I need to be. Her nipples press into my chest, hard, aching—and every soft sound she lets out sears into my core.
Her breathing is erratic. She rolls her hips upward, sliding her pussy against my cock, taking what she needs like she wants to rush this.
Each time I bottom out inside her, she gasps like I’m hitting a place no one else has ever been.
I kiss her lips, her cheeks, her forehead until I'm back on her mouth.
“Not too fast,” I urge her.
I don’t stop working myself inside her. I savor the hell out of her. I pull my hips back slowly, watch where we’re joined—her arousal covering me—before pushing back in just as slow. Drawing it out. Making her feel every inch.
I touch her clit with my thumb, circling once, then take it away. Her ankles tremble against my hips, a helpless little shake that makes me smile.
"Don't tease me," she moans.
I feel her heart pounding under my palm, and I know mine's doing the same under hers. I don't think she even realizes that most of the time when she's close to me, she’s touching me. She's touching me there, like she can't help but want to feel my heartbeat in her hand.
I fucking love that.
I don’t stop driving into her until she’s right at the edge—hips bucking, breath catching, whole body coiling tight—knowing that once she comes for me like this, something in her will shift.
Some wall. Some boundary. Something she won’t be able to put back up.
It always has. I'm going to believe it won’t always be this way.
She moans, cries out my name—my name—and it’s the first time she's done that.
She clamps down around me, pulsing hard, her nipples throbbing, her mouth open and gasping, and I hold myself inside her for a beat—deep, steady, giving her something stiff to come around—before I allow myself to let go.
I bury myself inside her and release, feeling nothing but relief and goodness until I'm dripping out of her down into the water. A mess I don’t want to clean up tomorrow.
“Was that alright?” I ask softly, brushing her damp hair away from her face and searching her eyes. I cup her chin and tilt her face up to mine.
Her lashes flutter, and a soft smile pulls at her mouth—replacing her usual serious expression with something warm. Something that only I get to see now. It’s another one of those things that's just for me to know.
“Yeah,” she whispers. “It was alright.”
I pull out of her slowly, watching as my come starts to slip out in a slow, thick slide… only to push it right back in with my cock. Her back arches a little when I’m back inside her.
“Ah,” she moans, watching me work myself back and forth inside her pussy. “I’m still so sensitive.”
“If we’re real quiet,” I tell her, lips brushing her ear and then kissing there where the skin is soft and smells the best, “we can do this inside my childhood bedroom.”
Her eyes widen. “But you said your grandma would wake up if we went inside?”
“I lied so you’d have to see me shirtless in the tub.”
She smacks my chest playfully—right where my heart is still hammering out of control. All for her. Only for her. She doesn't pull her hand away from my heart. She keeps her palm resting there.
I finally pull out completely, my cock softening just a little as it slides free of her. She lets out the tiniest gasp that hits my ego in all the right ways.
“What do you say, Kitty? Round two in my childhood bedroom?”
She shakes her head, but she’s smiling now. “Okay,” she says. “But you better be quiet.”