31. Monroe
31
MONROE
H e looks like a wild animal, shirtless, covered in blood and sweat and throwing punches at his brother. I gape at him, my head swimming with wine. My lady bits are pulsing with need. I don’t have any idea why he’s fighting Duke, but he’s acting like a complete maniac. He’s always the epitome of cool, calm, and collected. The Cash I know is usually stoic and unaffected. Even facing a crowd of rabid fans, he maintains himself.
“What is with you?” I yell at him, turning around to stomp in the other direction, away from him and the house.
I hear his footsteps behind me. I speed mine up.
“I have nothing to say to you,” I toss over my shoulder.
He grabs my hand, jerking me to a stop. A spike of rage sends my heart rate into double time. I spin around, shoving my wineglass in his direction and splashing the contents right into his face. He stops cold, but doesn’t let me go. His hand moves up to wipe the wine off his face, and a grin pulls over his mouth. He tugs me closer. Even when I try to pull back, his iron hold doesn’t budge. We’re almost to the barn.
“You’re crazy!” I scream at him. “You think you can just fuck me and then go see your stupid ex-girlfriend? Rosie told me where you went!”
My true feelings are out in the open now. I was going to keep it in, to ignore his existence until he apologized. I huff out a breath, trying to stand up straight. I’m forced to lean into his grip so I don’t lose my footing.
“You think you can just get drunk with my brother the second I’m not around, obsessing over your every movement?”
I scoff. “Duke is fun . Something you seem to have an objection to experiencing.”
Cash takes another step closer to me, still holding my hand. I have to dip my head back to meet his eyes.
“I had a hell of a lot of fun earlier today. Most fun I’ve ever had actually.”
The sun is completely down now, but the chill that runs down my spine is from more than just the darkness.
“If you were sober, we’d be having the same kind of fun right out here in the barn.” His other hand reaches over to brush my hair out of my face. His thumb scrapes against my cheek.
“I’m sober enough,” I lie, tilting my head back farther.
He leans down, cupping the base of my neck. His lips press into mine, desperate and salty. I whimper into him, hating myself for folding so fucking easily. He’s my undoing. I’m defenseless against this man. He releases my hand to press on my lower back until I stumble into his body. He crushes me against the planes of his sweaty torso, and the dirty girl deep inside me preens.
He’s filthy, covered in sweat and blood, and I’m fucking obsessed with it and him.
The drunken haze is affecting my brain, and I can’t comprehend denying him anything right now. I want to feel him ravaging me against a hay bale. He tries pulling back from me. I tug his head back down, forcing the kiss to go on. His tongue brushes over mine, reminding me of him tasting me earlier today.
He pulls back again, breaking our lips. “We’re not doing this while you’re drunk, Princess.”
“I want it so bad. Let’s do it in the barn on a hay bale.”
“No, you’re going to bed.” He turns, trying to pull me along behind him.
My stubborn drunk ass is apparently much more combative than when I’m sober. I foolishly attempt to overpower him and nearly fall on my face.
“You’ve never looked so hot. I guess bloody abs are my thing. Come on. I need it.” I plant my feet, furtively struggling to pull him toward the barn.
He chuckles, turning toward me, but instead of following me to the barn, he sweeps his arms down and scoops me up like a baby. The swift motion brings on a wave of nausea as the liquid in my stomach sloshes.
“I don’t sleep with intoxicated women. You’re just gonna have to wait until my little brother pisses me off, which will happen if I catch him with his arm around you like that again.”
“I drank a lot.” I lay my head down on his shoulder. “ Tomorrow, I’ll wake up mortified that I begged my bodyguard to screw me over a hay bale and you said no.”
His steps create a gentle rocking motion, which makes the sick feeling in my stomach worse. I open my eyes, staring up at the star-filled sky. I gasp.
“Cash, look at the stars. Are they always that pretty?”
He tilts his head back. I get distracted by the cut of his jawline, and my impulsive thoughts win me over. I lean forward, licking the underside of his jaw.
“You’re salty. Is your dick salty too?”
He stumbles, but manages to regain his footing quickly. “I don’t know what my dick tastes like actually.”
“I want to taste it soon.”
“Oh, yeah?” He adjusts his hold on me before he tightens his grip.
I sigh, leaning back on his shoulder again. “Yeah. I think about it sometimes when I touch myself. What do you think about when you touch yourself?”
Please make yourself shut up.
He’s stepping up onto the porch of the bunkhouse now. He manages to open the door while still holding me, then kicks it fully open before walking into the dimly lit house.
He walks into his bedroom, laying me down on his bed. He stands up above me, brushing my hair out of my face before finally answering, “I don’t touch myself. I don’t like the way it feels. I like soft hands on me.”
“Really? Will you like it when I do it?”
He doesn’t respond.
I sigh. The room spins, and I shut my eyes. Tomorrow’s headache and hangover regret are going to be a serious bummer, but tonight, I’m too inebriated to care.
His warm breath brushes over my ear. “Yes, I will. And just because I don’t touch myself doesn’t mean I haven’t fantasized about what you taste like or how pretty your mouth will look around my cock.”
My eyes flutter open. It’s still dark. My face feels cold, but my body is perfectly warm. I look down at myself and finally register the muscled arms caging me into a big, warm body. I’m lying on my back, my legs intertwined with his. We’re in Cash’s room, snuggled up in his bed together. He’s shirtless, but he must’ve showered because his chest is clean.
There’s a sliver of light pouring in from the moon outside. I can make out his features in the shimmery light, calm and relaxed. His lips are moving, like he’s having a dream and talking in it, but I don’t hear any words coming out. I take a few moments to study his muscular arm. Under the jagged skin of the Redford ranch branded into him there’s a green beret skeleton tattoo, and a cowboy riding a bull underneath it. I never knew how sexy tattoos were until I saw them on Cash.
A flood of memories rushes through my head.
“Let’s do it in the barn on a hay bale.”
“You’re salty. Is your dick salty too?”
I squeak, cupping my mouth with my hand as mortification settles over me. My stomach lurches, and I feel the urge to vomit.
That might be from the alcohol.
I remain motionless, trying not to wake him up. I’m not ready to face him after all the embarrassing shit I said last night as he carried me to his bed.
I’m never going to recover from this. I can’t look him in the eyes.
“Blue …” Cash finally speaks.
I look at his face again, expecting to see his eyes open and looking at me, but he’s still dead asleep.
He’s dreaming about me.
Something in my belly flutters. I curl into him, laying my head on his chest. He pulls me closer. My heart squeezes. Even though I still feel sick and embarrassed, I also feel … taken care of, special, and protected.
He wouldn’t sleep with me last night because I was drunk.
He punched his brother in the face for wrapping his arm around my waist.
The picture of us on the internet is still a massive problem for my career, but I shove it out of my mind. I’ll deal with it when I have to. Right now, I just want to feel safe and desired. In his arms, I do.
The bed is empty the next time I wake up. I immediately miss the warmth of his body curled around mine. I swing my legs over the side of the bed, but when I attempt to stand, the pounding in my head brings out a groan.
“I am so hungover.”
I stumble out of the room in search of water and Advil. I won’t survive this day without it. When I reach the kitchen, I’m greeted by defined back muscles and Cash’s perfect round ass in a pair of gray sweats. He catches me admiring it when he turns. My cheeks heat as I raise my eyes to meet his.
The corner of his mouth twitches. “You need to hydrate before you have coffee.”
I gape at the black eye decorating his face. When it happened last night, I had no idea how bad it was. He opens the fridge and pulls out a bottle of water. He tears open a hydration powder packet and adds it to the bottle. I watch his inked biceps contract as he shakes the bottle up before he hands it over to me.
“Stop looking at my body like that. You need to recover.” He smirks at me before grabbing his coffee mug to take another sip.
Something has shifted between us. He’s acting different …
He’s flirting with me.
I twist open the bottle cap and down half the contents, realizing how parched I suddenly feel. He holds out his hand. I look down and see two little blue pills.
“It’s for your head.”
I take them, swallowing them down with more of the water. “I feel like death. ”
“I believe it. I found two empty wine bottles and a third half gone.”
“Duke opened the third one, and he—” I pause when I see the dark glint in his eyes.
“I’m gonna have to have another talk with my little brother.”
I shake my head. “Look what he did to your eye last night when you attacked him.”
“You should see the other guy.”
I lick my lips, tilting my head to study him. He takes another sip of the coffee, but there’s still a smirk on his face.
“You’re in a good mood today,” I observe.
His smile widens. “I got a good night’s rest.”
The night floods back through my head.
I begged him to fuck me over a hay bale. He was dreaming about me.
“Any good dreams?”
His gaze licks over my body, making me feel overheated. I look down to see that I’m still wearing the pink dress I had on last night, and it’s smudged with blood from Cash picking me up and carrying me.
“I did have a very, very good dream. Maybe I’ll tell you about it later.” He walks over, taking my hand. “But first, you need a shower and a change of clothes. The best hangover food is pizza, which is already on the way. We’re being lazy today.”