Chapter 14 #2
Sawyer and Beau exchange a look but don’t argue. Sawyer gives Juniper one last glance—half caution, half curiosity—before they both step out. The door clicks shut behind them, muffling the low murmur of conversation outside and I press the lock to give us privacy.
I turn back to her, heart still hammering like I haven’t just laid everything out in front of her.
She’s sitting stiff in the chair, knuckles white where they grip the armrests.
“Are you okay?”
“I think I’m in shock,” she says, shaking her head. “You’re buying the ranch. Just like that.”
“Just like that,” I agree.
She lets out a breathless laugh. “Why?”
“Because they hurt you, so I’m going to hurt them right back.”
That catches her off guard. A flicker of something crosses her face. Disbelief, maybe. Then a dry little laugh escapes her lips.
“What?” I ask.
She lifts her gaze. “Are you gonna go after everyone who’s ever hurt me?”
“I sure the fuck am,” I say, holding her eyes. “One by one. I don’t care how long it takes.”
The room goes still. Her expression softens, just for a second—like the steel she always wears at the surface melts a little in the heat of my promise.
“Come over here,” I say quietly. Then firmer, “Now.”
She rises slowly, like she’s not sure whether she’s walking toward a comfort or a storm. Her dress clings to her legs as she rounds the desk, her hair falling forward slightly as she stops in front of me.
I don’t wait.
I stand and cup her face in both hands, pressing my forehead to hers. Our breaths mingle. Her fingers slide up my chest, curling into my shirt.
“You didn’t have to do this,” she whispers.
“I wanted to,” I rasp. “I want to give you back every damn thing they stole from you. Name, land, power, peace. All of it.”
Tears gather in her eyes but don’t fall. “You’re making it hard to hate this place.”
“Good. I want you to stop running from it.”
“And if I can’t?”
“Then I’ll run with you.”
She lets out a shaky breath. Then she kisses me, like she’s trying to say everything she doesn’t have the words for.
I back her into the desk, lifting her onto it with ease. Her knees part, and I step between them, one hand still cupping her face, the other braced at her waist.
But I don’t push.
Not yet.
Because this moment? This is the line.
I pull back just enough to look her in the eyes. “You tell me when you’re ready to take that land back. And I’ll make sure no one ever lays a hand on it—or you—again.”
She pulls me back in like she’s made her decision. Not just about the ranch, but about me. Her hands fist in the front of my shirt, mouth hungry and hot as it crashes into mine. I catch her around the waist, anchoring her to the desk, letting her feel every inch of what she does to me.
“Juniper…” I breathe against her lips, a warning and a plea.
She looks at me, eyes dark and glassy. “Don’t stop. Not after what you just did. Not when I finally feel like something’s mine.”
That shatters whatever restraint I had left.
My mouth finds hers again, harder this time. She gasps when I push her back, palms sliding over her thighs, urging her open. Her heels dig into the edge of the desk, dress bunching at her hips as she wraps her legs around me.
“This what you want?” I rasp, voice thick with need.
She nods, breathless. “I want you. Right here.”
I reach behind her and sweep my arm across the desk—papers, pens, that damn crystal paperweight all hitting the floor in a clatter I don’t care about. The only thing I care about is her—laid out on polished wood, looking at me like I’m the first thing that’s ever made her feel safe and alive.
I kiss my way down her throat, across the hollow of her collarbone, savoring the way she arches into me, her hands clawing at my back like she needs the contact to stay grounded.
“You should know…” I say, dragging my mouth back up to hers, “once I have you like this—there’s no going back. Not for me.”
“Then don’t go back,” she whispers. “Claim me.”
Her voice is full of want and trust.
And I do.
Right there, in my office, in the space where I make cold deals and break harder men, I give her something that’s never been part of any contract. I give her everything.
“You look so damn good like this,” I growl, voice low and rough. “Laid out on my desk, dress pushed up, legs spread just for me.”
Her hands dig into my shoulders as I press between them, grinding against her center.
“This is my office, Juniper. My name on the building. And now I’ve got you right where I want you.”
She moans, soft but urgent. “Say it again.”
I smirk, grabbing her chin between my fingers, tilting her head so she can’t look away.
“You’re mine.” My lips brush her jaw, then her throat. “This mouth? Mine.” I kiss her again. “This body? All mine.”
Her breath is ragged now, fingers clutching at my shirt. “Rhett…”
“You want to be fucked right here, on my desk, with the door locked and your dress still on?” I murmur, voice low enough it’s practically a growl. “You want to scream my name where anyone could walk by and hear exactly how good I make you feel?”
She whimpers, hips shifting.
“That’s what I thought,” I say, dragging my hand up her thigh. “You came here to watch me handle business, didn’t you?”
“Yeah,” she pants, barely able to speak.
“Well, sweetheart…” I lean in, lips at her ear. “Now it’s your turn to be handled.”
My words hang between us, thick as the heat building in the room.
She’s trembling beneath me, not from fear, but anticipation. Want. Power crackling beneath her skin. And when she lifts her hips in answer, grinding against the pressure of my jeans, any ounce of restraint I had left evaporates.
“You need it that bad?” I murmur, dragging my knuckles up the inside of her thigh. “Want me to take you apart right here where anyone could hear?”
She nods, eyes wild.
“Use your words, sweetheart.”
“Yes,” she breathes. “Please. I need you.”
That’s all it takes.
My mouth crashes into hers, bruising and messy. My hand slips beneath her dress, dragging her panties down and off in one rough motion. She gasps, and I swallow it whole.
“You’re already soaked,” I rasp. “You were wet the second I said your name. Don’t even pretend otherwise.”
She whimpers as I push her knees wider. “I’ve been thinking about this since we walked in here,” she admits. “Since you told them I’d be sitting in on the meeting like I belonged.”
“You do belong,” I growl. “Right here. On my desk. Under me.”
I slide my hand between us, teasing her open, and her head tips back with a gasp, hips rising to meet every stroke and very slow grind of my fingers. The sounds she makes? Addictive. Music to my ears.
“Look at you,” I whisper against her throat. “You were made for this. For me.”
She clings to me like the desk might disappear from under her. Her breath stutters as I lean in, letting her feel the hard line of me against her core.
“I’m gonna make you come like this,” I promise. “Right here, where your moans echo off my office walls. Where the whole damn building could know exactly what I do to you.”
Her eyes flutter, chest heaving.
“You gonna be a good girl and give it to me?” I whisper against her lips. “Let me ruin you right?”
She nods frantically. “Yes—Rhett—please—”
And I take her.
Not gently.
Not quietly.
But fully.
The air between us crackles, heavy with the sound of our breathing and the faint hum of the ceiling vent. The obscene sound of two bodies coming together soon takes over. And when she gasps? Fuck. It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard in my life.
I drag the back of my hand along her thigh and lean in until my mouth grazes her ear.
“Stand up,” I whisper.
She hesitates for a heartbeat, then does. Her breath trembles as I slide into the leather chair.
“Come here.”
Her eyes darken, and I see the moment she realizes what I mean. Slowly, she steps between my knees, her dress brushing against my legs. I grip her hips, guiding her down until she’s straddling me.
“That’s it,” I murmur, voice thick. “Right where you belong.”
Her hands slide up my chest, fingers curling around my shoulders as I tilt my head back to look at her. The sunlight cutting through the blinds paints her skin in gold and shadow.
“You feel that?” I whisper. “That’s us. No one else gets this.”
She nods, breath shallow, her pulse thrumming against my palms. I can feel the tremor in her thighs as she settles closer.
“Rhett…” she whispers, voice caught between want and disbelief.
“Look at me,” I say. “I want to see your face.”
Her eyes meet mine, wide and unguarded. The moment stretches, charged and trembling. Then she moves and every shift of her body pulls a low growl from my chest. My hands find the small of her back, urging her rhythm, guiding her through the motion until the air itself feels electric.
She grips the edge of the desk behind me for balance, gasping as I pull her tighter against me.
“You take everything I give you,” I murmur, the words rough but tender. “Every damn thing.”
Her reply comes as a shuddering breath, her forehead dropping to mine. The rest dissolves into motion—soft gasps, the creak of the chair, the whispered sound of my name leaving her lips again and again.
And then it’s quiet.
Just our heartbeats. Our breaths. The world outside the office still turning while we sit there tangled together, lost in the aftershock of something that feels far bigger than it should.
I press my lips to her temple. “You okay?”
She nods against my shoulder. “Yeah.”
“Good. I’m gonna have the guys come back in and then we’re going shopping.”
She snuggles closer. “Give me a minute.”
My cum drips out of her and it makes me feel so fucking primal. I suck on the side of her neck, marking her.
“Make me wait too long, sweetheart, and I’m going to be hard again.”
She snorts and pushes off me, smoothing her dress down with shaky hands. I miss the heat of her body the second she leaves my lap.
“Is there a bathroom nearby?” she asks, adjusting her straps like she’s trying to look composed.
“Why?” I ask, even though I know damn well why.
She shoots me a look, then gestures subtly toward her lap. “So I can clean up.”
I grin, wicked and unrepentant. “Nope.”
“Nope?”
“I want you to sit through the rest of the meeting just like that. Blushing and full of me.” I give her a look that could make the windows sweat. “Understand?”
Her cheeks flush so fast it’s almost unfair. But she doesn’t argue. She just gives me a sharp little nod and takes her seat beside the desk, folding her hands primly like the very image of innocence—if innocence had a smirk and trembling thighs.
Fucking hell. This woman.
I tuck my shirt back in and adjust just enough to look like a man who hasn’t lost every last shred of professionalism in the past fifteen minutes. Then I cross the room, open the door, and call out, “Come on in, boys.”
Beau and Sawyer file back in.
“Could you two have been any louder?” Beau asks dryly, dropping back into his seat.
Juniper chokes on air. “Oh my god.”
Sawyer sighs and mutters, “It’s always the quiet ones.”
I lift a brow. “If you have complaints, Beau, you’re welcome to invest in soundproofing.”
Beau rolls his eyes. “I’ll add it to the budget proposal.”
Juniper shakes her head, eyes fixed on the folder in front of her like it’s her only lifeline.
I lean one arm on the desk and murmur low, just for her, “You’re doing great, sweetheart.”
She side-eyes me. “You’re terrible.”
But she’s smiling.
And when my hand brushes her’s under the desk she doesn’t pull away.