Chapter 17
JAKE
The operation is complete.
Luke came back an hour ago, giving me the nod as he walked into the house, indicating that Turner's body, the truck, and my clothing are disposed of. Every trace of what I did tonight is erased, as if it never happened. Clean. Professional. No loose ends.
Except me. I can’t settle down.
I’m in my shower, the water scalding hot, my hand wrapped around my cock as I picture Emma on her knees in front of me. Water streaming down her body. Her mouth open. Her eyes looking up at me while I fist her long hair in my hand and tell her to suck.
We've never had shower sex, but I've thought about it.
Christ, I've thought about it.
I've thought about backing her against the tile. Lifting her to wrap her legs around my waist. Sliding inside her while the water pounds down on us and she says my name like a prayer.
With Emma’s name on my tongue, I come hard, bracing myself against the wall.
It's not enough.
It's never going to be enough—not until Emma’s in my arms.
Facing the showerhead, I wash the cum off before stepping out to dry off, but I'm still wound up. Still half hard. Still tasting her on my tongue from two hours ago when I kissed her in that kitchen.
I can't sleep like this.
I pull on jeans and a sweatshirt and head down to the stables. The house is quiet around me. Mason and Luke are asleep, as far as I know. Luke has the suite downstairs to the back, and Mason bunks down in the stablemaster’s cottage behind the barn.
The stable is dark. Shadow raises his head as I enter, but when he sees it’s me, he relaxes again. I go past the stalls and reach for the handle hidden under a pile of hay. Pulling the trapdoor open, the glow of the monitors lights my way down into the storm cellar.
It’s not secure yet—we’ve only been here a week—but it makes a perfect hidden command center. Luke found it by accident. It’s not marked anywhere on the floor plans or property layouts for the ranch, so it’d make it hard for anyone to infiltrate it if we decide to fortify it.
I walk to the table we have set up, telling myself I'm just doing one last check before bed. Making sure everything's secure. Making sure Emma's safe.
That's bullshit, and I know it. I want to see her face.
I pull up the camera feeds on the laptop, cycling through the four angles I have on Circle H. The driveway. The barn. The tree line. The main house.
Her bedroom window is still lit.
She's awake, just like I am.
I zoom in on the window, and my breath catches.
I can see her shadow moving behind the curtains. Pacing. Restless. She's wearing something light-colored—a tank top and shorts—and her hair is down.
She stops at the window, and for a moment, I think she's looking out. Looking for me. Then she turns away, and I watch her shadow move across the room. The light goes out.
I switch to an infrared view.
She crawls into bed. She pulls up the covers and lies there on her back. I watch her for a long time, thinking about calling, telling myself it’d be just to calm her down to sleep, but knowing I’m lying to myself. I’m about to give up and return to my room when Emma wiggles, her body shifting.
I lean in. Heat shoots straight to my cock when I see her hand moving under the covers.
Is she touching herself?