39. Zee
His statement might as well make the hard-packed soil beneath Jas’s hooves quake.
But it also settles a decade-old hurt that’s been like a tear in my soul.
How easily I was forgotten.
How easily he blamed me.
How easily he moved on.
I tug on Jas’s reins to bring her to a halt, not wanting to think about how she gently stops as if she’s an extension of me.
Maybe it’s because I’m on horseback, grounded in a way that I haven’t been in years that I ask, “Why should I forgive you?”
Another time, another place, I’d never have said that.
But Jas gives me strength.
This conversation, and the one he had with Cody, as well as what our kisses, plural, represent provide me with fuel.
“You shouldn’t,” is his answer, but he leans over and his hand snags ahold of mine.
His fingers are callused. Rough from hard work. He’s no backseat manager like his father, content to sit in his office and let others run the ranch.
I’ve seen him with the horses out front, breaking the older foals in. I’ve seen him head onto the range with his staff. My window gives me too good a view of him at work.
Colton Korhonen plays at nothing.
That means this isn’t a play either.
I slide my fingers through his, knotting them together, squeezing his knuckles. That’s when hope starts to form like a slowly building storm that’s gaining ground, steadily building into a tornado—I can’t help but feel I’ll be blown away if I don’t hunker down with him.
His voice is low, gritty, as he rumbles, “I can’t give you the world, Zee, but I can give you the Seven Cs. This place has my heart until and if you’re willing to safekeep it.”
My chin butts my chest. “You don’t love me.”
A soft bark of laughter escapes him. It isn’t loaded with humor, more a release of tension. “I think I’ve always loved you. Just like you’ve always loved me. But girls are smarter than boys. You figured it out sooner than I did.”
“That was ten years ago,” I dismiss, though he’s right.
“Yeah. Ten years ago when you were jailbait. I saw you as a kid. Because you were. You were to be protected and shielded. Now, I feel the same—” There’s no denying the sharp ache in my chest is disappointment. “—but different. It’s an evolution I didn’t anticipate and that’d probably have never developed if my sperm donor hadn’t forced us to be together.”
Fen, working on his own agenda, steps closer to Jas. I could think it’s a move on Colt’s part, but there’s no mistaking the designs the Percheron X has on the white Camarillo who deigns to accept the attention.
Just like I do.
When Colt’s other hand cups my cheek, I could pull back.
But I don’t.
When his thumb smoothes along my jawline, I could nudge Jas into a jog.
But I don’t.
No, I tilt my head to the side so his large, warm, callused palm can touch more of my face.
“Don’t go,” he rasps. “Stay.”
My eyes flutter to a close. “I wasn’t going anywhere.”
“Sure you were. One round of IVF or ten, you were going to leave. Whether it was to the Bar 9 or to be the first McAllister to live in Pigeon Creek proper in two hundred years, you were going to go.”
“Not New York?”
“No. A part of me used to worry… but you wouldn’t deny me or the child a relationship.”
“You know that but didn’t know I couldn’t hurt Loki?”
There’s a slight pressure on my jaw as tension whispers through him. “I’ll never forgive myself for thinking the worst of you, and I’ll spend every day that you let me helping you work up the courage to go to the cops about Clyde.”
“Cody’ll be the head of the marshals soon.”
“Would you tell him?”
“M-Maybe.”
His thumb pinches my chin. “Good girl.”
He takes control of Jas’s reins. I’m not sure if she’s my wingwoman or a traitor but she remains steady as I find him taking up a whole lot of my personal space, which is some feat on a horse.
He moves ever nearer.
Looms over me.
His face takes up the horizon ahead until all I can see is him.
Until all I want to see is him.
A breath shudders from me as his mouth finds mine. It’s our second kiss today, but it’s all the more powerful because of his admission. Because of where we are. Because of the creature I’m riding. Because.
The tremor that works through my body should agitate Jas, who’s a very sensitive creature. But maybe she is my wingwoman. She plants—stays firm and holds fast—as Colt’s hand slides around my nape and pins me in place as he teases my mouth. Dropping soft and reverent kisses here and there. Cherishing me with how gentle he is at first. Little pressure aside from how he’s controlling the weight of my head.
I release a soft moan, unable to believe this is happening and how good it feels.
How right.
Then, fuck, both our phones issue an alert about my blood sugar.
Talk about the worst timing ever.
I shouldn’t let him take responsibility, but I watch as he jumps into action—his phone’s out, the reading comes next, and he clucks his tongue at Jasmine to bring her nearer.
The next thing I know, I’m shifting in the saddle and removing my feet from the stirrups as I turn to face him better while he hand-feeds me gummy bears from Jas’s saddle bag.
I didn’t want that to interrupt us, but being cared for by him keeps my arousal buzzing in the background. Enough that I don’t argue when he hands me a granola bar and a bottle of water a short while later.
When he’s happy with my blood sugar, he repacks the saddle bag and I pounce.
The moment our mouths collide, he hums—he’s not turned off by the alert. “You taste like honey,” he teases, his tongue exploring me like he’s trying to get his own sugar high.
I’m more than willing to be his sweet treat.
I relax more, letting him control the pace because, God help me, that’s all I’ve ever wanted.
His soft, teasing nips have me parting my lips and his tongue slides home.
As we connect, both of us groan. I cup his face too, holding him in place now, not letting him go. Not allowing him to leave me.
I don’t think I could bear it if he did.
Everything in me feels both tight and hot as if this coiled spring has been charging for as long as I’ve known him.
He’s right—he could never have seen me the way that I did him because I was a child and he wasn’t a monster.
But I’m not a child anymore.
And the ten years’ distance, the ten years of separation, if nothing else, has given him a glimpse of that—I’m a woman.
Someone he missed.
Someone he wants.
Someone he loves.
I grab his belt buckle and drag him toward me as he thrusts his tongue against mine, sending sensation charging through my veins. Then, I shriek when his hands somehow find my hips and he hoists me from Jas’s saddle and onto Fen’s back.
It’s such a seamless move that I’m almost jealous at how easy that was for him, assuming there was practice?—
“I used to bring Callan onto the saddle with me when he was younger and got scared,” he rumbles. The words make the sensitive skin of my lips feel like they’re vibrating. “Retract your claws, little cat.”
That’s when I realize I was digging my nails into his nape.
Rather than argue with him about being jealous, I slot my legs around his waist, moaning when I feel the pressure of his dick at the crotch of my jeans.
As he holds me close, his hands slide down to my ass, and that’s when he gently nudges Fen with his knees.
A keening whine escapes me as the horse’s gait has his hardness thrusting over my sensitive core.
It feels too good.
So raw and real and natural.
We’re out here, under the sky, the prairie around us, our scents mingled with Fen’s and Jas’s permeating the air, nothing but us for miles and miles.
It’s primal and it triggers something in me that I didn’t know I was still capable of feeling after being ‘civilized’ by city living.
The urge for skin-on-skin contact takes over me like a craving.
I let him go so that I can unfasten the buttons on his plaid shirt. His fingers put a halt to my ministrations. “Whoa, Zee.”
I can tell he wants to slow this down but I can’t.
That’s the last thing I want. If anything, I need to pick up where we left off this morning.
Ignoring him, I find a pocket of space and slip my fingers beneath the buttoned shirt.
Only to find a freakin’ Henley.
My growl is explosive and feral and it epitomizes how I feel. How he makes me feel.
I grab his jaw and hold him in place as I push my forehead onto his. “I’ve wanted you since I knew what teenagers did together over in Pleasant Park, Colton. Touch me. Please. I feel like I’m going crazy!”
His expression heats up but I know it’s the way my words wane into a broken whimper that has him angling backward so he can drag off his shirt, a couple flying buttons be damned. Then, he draws the Henley over his head, arching up to settle the fabric under his ass to keep it from flying away.
My tongue cleaves to the roof of my mouth at the sight of him.
He’s so different than how he used to be. While the muscles from hard work were there before, he’s matured. Like a fine whiskey.
My fingers spread over his chest, nails scoring red ravines over his abdomen as I explore what has always been forbidden to me.
I can’t decide if this is a dream or some kind of delusion, but he feels so damn good to my touch that I never want to stop. And then my fingertips brush over scar tissue—burns—and while I’m thrown back in time to a night that changed our lives for the worse, I don’t stop touching him.
Won’t.
I can’t let go of this connection. Not when I’m feeling his courage. His strength. These scars maketh the man. They’re proof of who he is and what he is. Tangible evidence that he’d keep me safe if ever I were in danger too.
I release him only to find the hem of my sweater and to raise it and my undershirt overhead, leaving the fabric to puddle between us as my hat tumbles off and goes flying.
Neither of us gives a damn as he returns his mouth to mine. This time, his fingertips dig into my ass as he actively encourages me to ride him, his knees directing Fen into a swifter pace that amps up the friction between us.
Soft whimpers explode from me as I press my chest to his, bare skin finally touching bare skin.
I sob against his throat, head tucked underneath his chin as release cascades inside me.
It’s rough and ready—just like this encounter.
Unexpected and all the hotter for it.
When I sag into him, the abrupt blast of pleasure taking the starch from my bones, he presses small kisses to the line of my jaw.
His tongue explores my mouth like he has all the time in the world. I know he doesn’t. But the reverence is back, and it’s not in his kiss anymore. It’s in his touch. It makes it seem as if I’m his axis.
He’s still hard between us. A solid band of heat that makes me crave a deeper connection.
I’ve dated a lot of guys, but in the past couple years, I’ve mostly stopped because Tee’s right—the dating pool is grim.
And I’ve always had this man to compare against whatever loser I met on an app.
Yeah, he’s always been the measure.
Always.
I can admit that now.
I kiss him back, surging into him, wanting him to find his release too, but he doesn’t use his hold on my ass to jerk off.
No, he just tastes me.
Savors me.
Enjoys me.
I feel like a vintage bottle of red wine that needs to be opened to breathe. That’s decanted into lead crystal. That’s sampled like a delicacy.
Curling my fingers around two of his belt loops, in turn, I relish the act of being savored.
Of being enjoyed.
Of being tasted.
It’s novel.
There’s no rush.
No groping.
No quick sprint to the third act.
God, it sums him up all round.
My nails scrape through his hair, making him shudder, but that’s when a whip of wind lashes at us. We break off when I shiver and he untangles my sweater, obviously wanting to cover me up, but I twist away, finally noticing that we made it to one of the McAllister lakes.
One of my lakes, seeing as I’m the majority shareholder of the Bar 9.
That Fen took this path and that Jas followed tells me Colt’s not as much of an upholder of the rules as I thought.
The water beckons me as soon as I set eyes on the glistening surface that sunlight bounds off of, the stillness revealing crystalline depths that remind me of the beauty of home.
I work fast to disentangle myself from his hold and jump from Fen to the lakeshore.
“Zee!” he calls as my abrupt move jostles the saddle blanket on the stallion, but I ignore him to wade to the waterline.
As he follows me, I get to work on my fly, and when he grabs my arm, panic in his gaze, it fades as he stares at my hands and what they’re busy doing.
The slow smile decimates me, but it’s when he rumbles, “Again, chaos?” that my heart skips two beats.
His fingers slot through my hair as he strokes that big paw of his over my head while his soft, teasing drawl sends ripples of warmth throughout me.
I missed him so damn much.
It’s as if permitting myself to accept how large the chasm he left behind in my life rams it home harder than ever.
“You going skinny-dipping?”
“What else?” Then, pouting, I grumble, “You didn’t think I was going to hurl myself into the water, did you? End it all after my first orgasm with you?”
He pulls a face. “You need to give a man time to register what’s going on before you dash off a horse, then dart half-naked over to a lake.”
“Were you going to jump in after me like last time?” I joke.
“Where my chaos goes, I follow.”
How his gaze darkens makes me shiver and it has nothing to do with the wind chill.
I must be mad stripping off here, but it feels right.
Like how it’s supposed to unfold.
With our eyes locked, my fingers unfasten my fly. Aside from that, I don’t bother with my jeans yet. I toe out of my sneakers first then drag the denim and my panties down my legs. When I straighten, his jaw’s like obsidian. There’s a tick pinging the muscles there, straining under how hard he’s gritting his teeth.
Deliciously satisfied by that reaction, I unfasten my bra, letting it tumble onto the lakeshore.
Still focused on him, I retreat a step.
And another.
And another.
Not stopping until the water collides with my feet.
I continue, letting myself wade deeper into the lake, grateful that this one is a natural mineral hot spring.
“Are you a chicken, Colt?” I tease.
I swipe my hand across the surface, letting fine droplets skim around me in an arc.
He doesn’t answer my taunt.
At least, not with words.
He toes out of his boots.
I stop messing around.
Nothing’s more interesting than him.
Than what he’s doing.
Than his focus on me.
Than his actions.
My heart pounds like it wants to crack through my ribs as he unbuckles his belt.
There’s nothing decorative about that buckle. Much like the rest of the man. You’d never know he was aKorhonen at first glance.
Then, his fingers are messing with his fly.
Off his jeans go.
Along with his boxer briefs.
My throat bobs as he stands there naked for a millisecond before wading into the water to join me.
Every step he takes brings him closer to me.
Finally, he’s there.
One hand slides around my waist, and the other swoops in at my hip, drawing me into him so that my front slots against his.
There are probably a thousand words we should share, but I don’t have it in me to utter them. Instead, I lean on tiptoe, the warm water slipping over my calves and knees like silk, spreading a chill throughout my extremities when the wind hits me, but it’s easy enough to ignore as our mouths meet again.
At long last.
I sag into him the second his lips part and I let him take over me how I’ve always wanted him to. How I’ve needed him to. Forever.
This goes deeper than dominance and submission.
It’s my soul knowing I’m safe with him. My body. My being. Maybe one day, my heart too.
I cross my wrists around his neck to hold myself as close to him as possible. My breasts rub over the hairs on his chest, stimulating delicate nerve endings in a way that another man’s mouth wouldn’t have.
This is Colton.
My Colt.
I can feel myself melting, all my barriers lowering because he’s the only man I’ve ever truly wanted and he’s here. In my arms. Wanting me back. No constraints. Just us.
I can feel it too.
His want. His need.
He’s a thick brand at my stomach. Hot and hard and pulsing with life.
I think back to the last time we were in a lake together—I asked for IVF and a divorce.
Nothing could be further from my mind.
He thrusts his tongue against mine, making me feel like a banquet. Exploring and tasting and nipping and stroking. His hands don’t roam. Just his lips and tongue and teeth and mouth. It’s the most intense kiss I’ve ever experienced, which is impressive because he already takes up my top three kisses ever. This one makes me feel like it could last an eternity without either of us stopping for air.
I melt further into him. All soft lines to his hardness. Then finally, as he finishes dominating my mouth, his hands drop to the curve of my ass and he kneads one of my butt cheeks.
His knuckles dip deeper, rubbing the outer periphery of my folds, making me moan and jostle in his hold. I’m still sensitive from before and that single touch exposes how wet I am.
I part my legs—I have no choice.
I want nothing more than for him to touch me, and giving him full access is the smartest way to make that happen.
His knuckles move higher. Higher. Higher still.
“Eyes on me, Zee,” he demands when my lashes flutter shut.
God help me.
I open them and nearly swoon at the hunger raging in his.
For me.
Breathing stilted, I grow tense, waiting for that connection of bare skin on bare skin, and I cry out, mouth falling from his as I turn lax in his arms.
It’s so simple it’s crazy that I’m this sensitive, but I can’t explain it. Don’t want to. This is Colt—that’s the only explanation I need. I was born to melt for this man.
It was written into my DNA.
His nose rubs along mine before he presses kisses to my brows, temple, and forehead as he runs his knuckles over my clit.
My muscles jolt, limbs growing tense with the oddly impersonal touch. “Do it properly,” I moan.
“You want my fingers on this little pussy? Where do you want them? Tell me. I’ll put them right where you need them.”
With a shudder, I whisper, “On my clit. I need you to rub my clit.”
“Like this?” The tips brush over it. “Or like this?” They move from side to side. “Or like this?” He moves the flat of his hand in a circle.
“Second one,” I mumble, arching up and against him. “Oh!” The sound spills from me as he gives me what I asked for.
Unbidden, I shift my leg, hitching it so that it hooks around his hip and digs into his ass. It opens me up, granting him more access.
That’s when his other hand joins in and the soft kisses he dots all over my face cease as he reunites our mouths.
With my focus divided, I drown in his kiss and his touch while one set of fingers rubs my clit and the other slide into me—first one, then two.
“So fucking tight,” he groans before returning to devouring me.
My pussy clenches around his digits as he pleasures me, gracing me with his whole attention, giving me what I’ve unconsciously craved for years.
He slowly steals the air from my lungs, and my heart stutters as the tingles in my center arc out in a wide spray that affects my whole nervous system.
I’m so close—too close.
Just as I gasp for air, desperately choking on it as my head tips back in wonder at what he’s making me feel, he stops touching me.
Distressed, I cry out, “No, don’t. I need you, Colt. Please!”
But the fear he’ll abandon me fades as he hooks his hand around my knee and hoists me into his arms.
With my legs butterflied around him, I can feel his dick rubbing up against my clit. His strength torments us both as he hovers me there, his tip brushing my heat in time to his pulse that throbs through his shaft.
“Do you want me, Susanne?”
I’m not sure why, but that he chose to call me Susanne matters.
“Always,” I rasp, not caring about how many vulnerabilities I’m exposing to him.
His forehead plants on mine as we stare at the space between us.
I help guide the tip home but he does the rest—as soon as he’s inside me, he controls the pace as gravity impales me upon him.
Inch by glorious inch, he fills me.
It’s everything I dreamed it’d be back in the days when I was clueless about sex, but it’s also more. Because I’m not in the dark about sex anymore. I know it can suck and nothing about this does.
The sun beams overhead, droplets of water trickle down my calves, around me there’s my land where the horses, as free as us, frolic in the shore nearby, and this man, a man I’ve always wanted but never been allowed to have, is inside me.
“Fuck! You feel so goddamn good, Zee.”
Back to Zee.
That also matters.
My arms cling to him as I dig my heels into his taut asscheeks and use that as a fulcrum to thrust onto him.
It’s difficult; the muscles in my abs and thighs are screaming, but it’s worth it for that downward thrust where every inch of him sinks into me.
“You fill me so good,” I garble.
That heat that seared my belly before brands my insides with his name, and the only thing that’ll soothe it is his seed.
“I need you to come inside me, Colton.”
When I buck into him, tormenting us both, tears pricking my eyes with relief and joy as he grinds out, “What are you doing to me?”
When his hands bite into my hips hard enough to leave marks later, I shudder and up the pace.
Faster, faster.
Enjoying his grunts and curses and heavy exhalations as I pleasure him. As I take control in a position where we depend on the other for stability.
“So good, too good.”
That’s when one hand lets go of my hips, the other arm bands around my spine for support, and his fingers find my clit.
A couple brushes of the tips to the nub and I’m shuddering like they’re set on vibrate mode. His fingers are not, however, a sex toy, but they might as well be.
“Colt!” I scream, head tipping back as my climax detonates inside me—against my will.
And he feels every part of it because that old pal gravity has me turning into a vise around him, every one of his inches surrounded by my release.
He groans my name, long and low, but it starts with a hiss and ends with heavy, panting breaths as he comes inside me.
Raw.
I can feel him throbbing and it’s everything I dreamed of and so much more because his forehead rests on my shoulder and each exhalation he makes brushes the upper swell of my breasts.
The peak hits us hard and keeps us locked together for endless moments.
But nothing lasts forever.
Eventually, he leaves me. His arms don’t, though.
He rocks back a couple steps. “Brace yourself.”
Still lost in my daze, I shriek when he tumbles us into the lake. I should have known it was a controlled motion because we don’t collide. We simply slip into the water.
“Jerk,” I cry.
His chuckle is tired as he moves us closer to the shore so that he can plant his ass on terra firma.
When he does, I thought he’d untangle us, but he doesn’t. If anything, he settles back, the warm lake water cosseting us while I act as an unofficial blanket.
I don’t complain, simply tip my head to the side and rest it over his heart.
His pulse turns calm and steady, with only a slight lilt to it that tells me he exerted himself.
I don’t know why but it makes me sad. That union was in the past. Already.
A part of me is scared everything’s in the past with him. We’ve never had a future together, and one certainly isn’t promised…
“I missed you,” I rasp, “and I never even had you.”
I shouldn’t have said that. I know that as soon as I let the words fall from my lips, but he doesn’t shove me away at the reminder of times gone. Doesn’t grow tense.
Instead, he asks, “Will you miss me now that you’ve had me?”
I didn’t expect that answer. “I don’t want to. I want this to be a step in the right direction.”
“I don’t deserve for you to stay. Not after how I treated you.”
“Isn’t that for me to decide?”
“You should send me to hell and?—”
“Why would I do that when it would take you away from me?”
My hands find his arms and, nails digging into his biceps, I cling to him. He’s always been so steady. So solid. Like the Pando tree whose roots spread far and wide for dozens of acres, able to weather any storm.
Even the fire, he weathered.
Eyes warming from my words, he cups my head, only there’s no pressure to it. Mostly, I feel like it’s an extension of his hug.
“Would you like to know when I started missing you?”
I nod, nose rubbing against the hair on his chest.
“The day I flew us here. That was compounded by walking in on you and Callan playing games.”
“You missed me so soon?” I rear back so he can see me gaping at him. “And with Callan… why?”
“It’s a tangled web of reasons… Our stay at The Manchester was a massive reminder of the change in our relationship. I missed what we used to have together. The ease of conversation. How it’d flow between us.
“Then, that you were making the effort with my kid brother who hates people in general. That you made him laugh, that you played games with him. That you were able to laugh freely with him and couldn’t or wouldn’t with me when, in the past…” Before I can say a word, he rumbles, “For reasons that I deserve. I knew that. But it’s what made me miss you more. I never thought I’d have that with you again and it was my fault.”
Maybe it’s because we’re both here naked, flaws out in the open, that I can whisper, “Why was it so easy to believe that I did it?”
“Because in my family, when you love someone, they hurt you.” A heavy sigh escapes him. “There’s nothing I can do to make up for what I did aside from striving to be the man you deserve, Zee. If you’ll give me the chance…”
His initial words had me growing tense in his arms but I soften. Resting my forehead on his chest, I murmur, “Your damn father has a lot to answer for.”
He grunts.
Sensing his disappointment, I clutch at his arms. “Isn’t this me giving you a chance, Colton? In my family, when you love someone, they cherish that love. Apart from Grand-mère. But she’s Venusian.”
I feel rather than hear his huff of laughter. “You know Clyde was convinced last year that Mum was having an affair with your father. That Callan was his son.”
“That asshole,” I spit, glowering at Colt. “How dare he? He was the cheater. God, he’s the monster!”
“What aren’t you telling me, Zee? What makes you so scared of him?”
“The fire wasn’t enough?”
“Maybe, but… you’ve always been scared of him. That fear’s only strengthened with time.”
“How about seeing what he put you through?”
He shakes his head. “You don’t trust me yet. That’s fine. But when you do, will you tell me then?”
I’m not sure why but that has me squirming on top of him. His arms let me loose which, though I wanted that, fills me with sadness. I don’t go far. Just roll into the water.
He watches me. I half think he expects me to get up and dress, but I don’t.
I stare over the massive lake before us.
“I saw Clyde with Marcy here once.”
That has him tensing.
“What?!”
I peer at him. “A week after the fire. I had nowhere else to go so I came here. I think they had the same idea.”
His nostrils flare. “Did he murder her?”
“No. At least, I didn’t stick around long enough to see him do that. You think that’s why she went missing?”
He curls upward, legs bending at the knee so he can rest his arms on them. “I’ve thought he had something to do with it for a while.”
“So did Lydia Armstrong.”
His mouth tightens. “You know about the letters?”
“I didn’t know I’d received one until I heard you talking with Cody today, but everyone knows she blamed the Korhonens.”
“How much did you overhear?”
“Do I look like Arwen on Jas?”
My lips curve when his ears burn red. “Maybe. You weren’t dressed for the part.”
“I didn’t know you were into cosplay, or do I mean roleplay?”
“You don’t know what I like.” Before I can be offended, his gaze fixes on mine. “Yet.”
And with that one word, it’s like all the tension in me evaporates. It’s a miracle that I don’t flop back into the water.
There’ll be a next time.
Thank God.
Yet.
“They were in a relationship?”
I swear our conversational shifts give me whiplash. “Yeah. They were having sex when I caught them. Your father’s a dog.”
“They saw?”
“No. I ran off.”
“It was…”
“It wasn’t rape,” is my flat retort.
“Do you think he had something to do with Marcy’s disappearance?”
“I used to think the triplets were his.”
“Excuse me?!”
I lift my legs and rest them against my chest. Looping my arms around my shins, I hold myself as tightly as I can before I whisper, “But then they turned into miniature Daddies. There was a point where I knew Mom found it hard to look at them after he died—they were so alike. Little mirror images.”
A hand settles on my back. “They were having an affair?”
“I have the unfortunate habit of seeing things I’m not supposed to.”
His whole body stiffens. “That time, it wasn’t consensual?”
I can’t utter a word. So I tip my head to the side.
“How old were you?”
“Too young to see that.”
His palm strokes along my spine before seeking my nape. Clasping me there, he murmurs, “What do you need me to do?”
The question takes me aback. Enough that I face him with a frown. “What do you mean? What can you do?”
There’s a flatness to his gaze as he rasps, “Whatever you need of me.”
Sputtering when I realize his intent, I scuttle closer. “The last thing I need is for you to turn into a vigilante, Colton.” If I sound chiding, so be it, but then I repeat, “He’s a monster.”
He strokes his thumb over my jaw. “I’ll make him pay.”
It’s a simple promise, but it isn’t what I need to hear from him.
“I don’t need you to do anything,” I counter.
“The whole town believes?—”
“—whatever the rumor mill wants it to.” I hitch a shoulder. “I don’t care what they think of me.”
“That’s why you haven’t left the ranch since you got here, huh?” he jeers.
My nose crinkles. “It’s rude to point out someone’s flaws when you’ve slept with them.”
“No sleeping was done.”
“That’s neither here nor there.”
His lips tug into a grin and his hand settles at the center of my back. “Have you heard from him recently?”
“I’d have told you if I had.”
“It’s not like him to be so quiet.”
“You think he’s up to something?”
“Knowing him, yes. The hit-and-run was definitely unexpected but who knows what else he’s scheming.”
“Business-wise, can he do much if you’re the head of the Seven Cs?”
“I’m the head of the company that owns the ranch. He’s still in charge of the rest because he built that himself. That should keep him plenty busy. He’s capable of dumb decisions but he makes high-risk moves on the stock exchange and they have big payouts. I have to figure that’s how he’s been keeping things afloat for so long with the oil field acting as his collateral.”
“Are you investigating how he got away with lying about your uncle’s will?”
“Bet your fine ass I am.” At my snort, he asks, “Do you want to get out of the water?”
“No. I like it. Reminds me of when I was younger.”
He’s quiet then… “Is that why you found refuge in the lake that first day?”
“Used to do it all the time with Walker.”
“Chaos,” he teases lightly.
“I was forged in half-frozen water. If I had balls, they’d be made of ice by this point. At least this lake is the hot springs. But… I didn’t expect this,” I whisper eventually, basking in him, in this pocket of time where everything feels surreal and yet hyperreal.
His hand strokes over my hair. “Me either.”
I lick my lips. “I-I think we don’t need to worry about IVF anymore.”
I thought he’d laugh. Instead, he tenses up, snags me around the waist, plops me on his lap, and then cups my cheeks so I’m looking square at him.
“How about that’s a conversation we have when we’re in the right place for it, hmm?”
“But the contract?” I half squeak.
“Fuck the contract.” He kisses me. “Fuck the Seven Cs. Fuck the Bar 9. Let’s have this. Here. Now. Us.”
Because I never wanted anything more in my life, I nod. “It might be too late.”
His gaze never leaves mine. “I’ll use protection in the future.”
“What if?—”
“We deal with what comes.” His jaw firms. “No divorce, Zee. Be here freely. I’ve already paid off the Bar 9’s debts. Your grand-mère won’t lose her home and neither will the triplets. Be with me of your own free will or don’t be with me at all.”
Swallowing, I start to answer but he shakes his head.
“Think about it. Think about what being my wife for real means. Because once we agree that this is it, you’re mine.”
His words make me melt, but I’m a modern freakin’ woman. If I let him get away with murder this early on, there’ll be no saving him down the line.
“You can’t base this off of a hookup,” I spout.
“I told you earlier—men are forever late to the party. We always clicked. It was the age gap that screwed things up for us. Rightfully so. But if you’d been in my class, I’d have had a ring on your finger?—”
“I was a McAllister!”
“I want to say that I’d have dealt with the outcry, but I wouldn’t have had the balls until I was eighteen. Still, that’s what I’d have done. You’d have been mine then and there and we’d probably have three or four kids roaming the ranches by now.” His large palms tip my head backward. “Think about it.”
I am.
Three of his kids.
God, I’ve never wanted kids in my life. Not outside of duty. But the prospect of?—
My throat bobs but he shakes his head. Again. “Tomorrow.”
I scowl. “I can make up my own mind!”
“I’m not letting you think up ways to end this in the future. I’m giving you the time and space to decide because, baby, if you’re not ready or willing for me to claim you as my wife, then this thing’ll burn out before it’s had a chance to begin.
“I meant it when I said that once I make you mine, there’s no going back. Do you hear me?”
Oh, I heard him.
So did my heart.
Every part of me knows I should reject his Neanderthal-like stance, but mostly, I’m overwhelmed that Colton is saying these things to me.
About us.
And here’s where I get my proof that, despite Tee’s claims, masochism isn’t my jam. Because maybe I should want to make him pay, make him earn my forgiveness, but why would I do that when it would shove distance between us?
Ten years was distance enough.
I just want him.
Forever, him.
Reaching between us where I can feel his cock twitching into hardness, his own words turning him on as much as they do me, I straddle him and bring our sexes together.
Gazes locked on one another, I rub the tip through my folds until I find my entrance. Pre-cum and his last release ease his path as I slide him home, neither of us bringing up protection, both of us more focused on how good it feels to reconnect and so swiftly too.
My eyelids flutter to half-mast, but his remain open. There’s a ferocity in his expression that makes me melt. That the most feminine part of me wants to soothe.
I lift onto my knees and ride him.
All around me, the water laps and kisses my skin, making sensitive shivers work their way up and down my spine. Whenever I breach the surface, I can feel it whisper over my clit, adding a caress that makes this a million times hotter.
His hands find my ass and he pulls the cheeks apart, letting more water touch me, brushing where we’re joined, the soft waves from my movements making me hyperaware of our union.
Quickening my pace, I chase release. I’ve no right to come so many times in one day, but apparently, the universe doesn’t agree. His being a caveman shouldn’t turn me on, yet those words of his are like magic to me.
My nails scrape over his back, leaving marks that’ll be there until tomorrow. Deep score marks that are as much a claim as the one he wants to stake on me.
I can feel everything in me tighten before the implosion strikes.
It decimates me—in the best possible way.
His hoarse yell is music to my ears as both of us rise and fall together, bound by the water, forged by the land that bore us, united in a way that no laws made by mankind could ever reap…
And whether he wants me to tell him tomorrow or today, the truth was set in stone the first day I stumbled into his stables and he found me there.
I’m his.
Forever.