Chapter 14
Chapter
Fourteen
CATALINA
My eyes flutter open, my body wrapped in the most delectable warmth. I stretch, yawning, and grab my glasses from the nightstand next to me.
Soft golden light filters through the curtains, casting shadows on the naked angles of Ambrose’s broad back. The smell of coffee, rich and inviting, invites me to consciousness.
Ambrose lies next to me on his stomach, his chin propped on his hands and a pillow. A lazy grin owns his face.
“How long have you been watching me sleep?” I ask, turning towards him and registering the delicious soreness in the muscles he wrecked last night.
Sensual memories wash over me, bathing me in a need I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to satiate.
My hand comes up, stroking his thick neck and ruffling his soft hair.
He purrs at my touch, head cocking to the side.
Grabbing my hand, he slides it to his mouth, pressing an affectionate kiss on my palm.
“For a while now,” he confesses, biting his thumb. “You looked so darn peaceful, I didn’t want to wake you.”
Suddenly, it hits me. “Gran!” I exclaim, sitting bolt upright in bed. My pulse races, the delicious intimacy of last night colliding with my real-world responsibilities.
He stabs his fingers into his dark hair. “Already been on the phone with her nurse, and there’s no rush. Sounds like she’s catching up on some much-needed sleep.”
I eye him, stuck somewhere between guilt and bliss. “Really? Did they say anything else? Has her diagnosis changed?”
“I didn’t dive too much into that, but everything sounded good. Nothing to worry about.”
I relax back into the pillows, reluctant to bring this intimate moment to an end.
His eyes sparkle with love as he adds, “But I figured you’d want to get over there as quickly as possible to see her with your own two eyes. So, I already took the liberty of making coffee and breakfast and had the first shower. We can be out of here as quickly as you like.”
My eyes rove over the mountain of muscle next to me. His eyes simmer, his every movement slow and sensual.
“It’s a shame you took a shower.”
“Why?” he asks darkly.
“Because I was hoping we might revisit some of the naughty things we did together last night,” I say, desperate for another taste of him.
He grins, bringing his hand up to stroke my cheek. In grumbly tones, he adds, “Now, I was only hoping you’d say that. But seeing as I asked the nurse to call us as soon as your grandmother wakes, I think we have a little time to get filthy as fuck before we clean back off.”
I jump out of bed, sprinting for the shower stall. “But first, you have to catch me.”
He springs from the bed, his gray sweatpants tenting in the front. His hooded eyes are onyx pools. “Not only am I going to catch you, Sparky. This time I’m going to wreck you for any other man.”
His words shimmer down my spine like a promise I can’t refuse, knees weakening and pace slowing. Still, I challenge, “Good, because as far as I’m concerned, you’re the only man that exists and ever will for me.”
Ambrose stops in his tracks, stunned by my words.
I scrunch my face. “Did I say too much?” Suddenly, I feel like the shoe is on the other foot in our relationship.
“Not at all,” he says, pulling me into his arms and planting a kiss on the tip of my nose. “I’m just trying to write this moment on my heart forever.”
“You really are romantic,” I whisper as he eyes me warmly.
“Only for the right girl.”
There it is again. Right. But how does he know?
“What’s that look for?” he asks sheepishly.
“Just analyzing your wording. The right girl. How can you be so sure?”
He chuckles, and I savor how the rumble transfers through his chest, sending delicious waves of desire through me.
“I knew it the first time I saw you, though I couldn’t put it into words at the time. And you would’ve accused me of losing my mind if I had.”
“True,” I admit. “I must’ve been wearing some underwear in that tree,” I add sarcastically.
“There was that.” He admits, bringing a hand up to stroke my cheek.
“But it was more than lust. A lot more. Like a homecoming of sorts. Like I didn’t need to act anymore because I was enough without Avery Ross.
Though Lord knows you put me through my paces after that.
Wouldn’t even agree to a real date with me. ”
Smiling playfully, I say, “Well, I kind of had my hands full in the tree. You know, too busy to think about stuff like romance. And then, there was the auction and your fans.”
“That’s okay,” he counters, removing my glasses to feather my face in slow, sensual kisses. “Because I needed to prove myself to you first. Show you that I deserve your love.”
His words melt my heart even as they recriminate me. “That sounds awful, the way you say it. Like I was making you jump through hoops …”
My gaze drops to the side. But he won’t accept anything less than my eyes, snagging his finger under my chin and forcing me to look at him.
“No, Cat, you were making me prove to you I’m different than the other men you’ve encountered in your life.
That’s something I mean to keep doing for the rest of our lives. ”
His words fill me with a glowing, incandescent warmth. This isn’t just a booty call or an infatuation. This cowboy has long-term plans for me … for us.
“But how will we make this work? My Gran still needs me to live with her, and I’m nowhere near the kind of financial situation I’d like to be before settling down …”
“That’s where you have to trust me and let me lead, Sparky. I swear I won’t ever let you down. Or ever leave you or your grandma.”
Warmth spills into my chest, realizing that despite everything, I have found a love like Gran and Grandpa’s.
My inhale shudders, and I bite my bottom lip, eyes threatening to spill over again.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, searching my face.
“I just never in my wildest dreams thought I would find someone like you. I’m not good enough for you, Ambrose. Can’t you see it?”
He shakes his head, passion transforming his face. “Don’t ever talk that way about yourself again. You are enough. Far more than enough. And I’m going to continue showing you that every single day until you believe what I know for a fact.”
He seals his words with the tenderest of kisses.
“Now, you’d better take the tiny headstart I’m about to give you. Because when you see me in the shower next, I’m taking what’s mine. No questions asked. No resistance.”
His words shiver through me, more lines borrowed from my books. I love it. I love him. The way he longs to please me, the actions he takes to make me feel special, unique, like the only woman in the world, despite his very large, very aggressive fan base.
“Alright,” I giggle, racing into the bathroom to brush my teeth and slap some water on my face. Perusing my reflection in the mirror, my complexion radiates joy, glowing with a happiness I haven’t seen in so long, I’m not sure it’s ever happened before.
Turning on the shower, I test the water with my hand until it’s perfect before climbing in. The heat feels good on my sore muscles, aches in places I didn’t even know existed.
Memories of last night inundate me in heady waves. By the time my sexy cowboy fireman enters the bathroom, my pussy throbs ravenously. Usually, I would take my own fingers to it in this state, but that seems a sacrilege with this hunky hero around.
Dropping his jogging pants, he steps out of them, stripped of hesitation. I lick my lips hungrily as he enters the shower, cock taut, straight, and huge. Angry veins run down the shaft, and I long to drop to my knees, drawing his smooth head between my lips again.
But he has other plans, poising a condom over the tip and sliding it down his length authoritatively. My breath catches in my throat, yearning animating my body.
His eyes hunger with a dangerous longing as he wraps his arms tightly around me and devours my lips. His hands graze over every inch of me as his mouth undoes me, laying claim to my body until my heart slams against my chest and the heat between my legs feels sticky and urgent.
“I need to fuck you, Sparky. More than I need air.” He growls, big hands gripping my ass as he lifts me off the ground, pressing my back against the stone tiles of his palatial bathroom.
“Yes, please,” I beg, wrapping my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist as his hand descends, sliding through my dripping folds and preparing me to take his girth.
“Hot, damn,” he exclaims. “I could get used to having this pussy so slick and ready for me. Begging for my cock.”
“Begging for you, Ambrose,” I whimper as he slowly inches into me. Swirls of shower mist snake around us, entangling us, lacing our futures together.
He focuses on my face, stopping each time I gasp or bite my bottom lip, allowing my body to adjust to his girth before pushing deeper until his long, extravagant thrusts run the full length of his shaft.
My eyes roll back in my head, body arching greedily towards him, straining to take all of him, though he’s too big for me.
He shifts me against the wall, changing the angle so that the blunt head of his cock drives into my G-spot again and again. Within minutes, I’m a hot, writhing mess of need, juices dripping down my thighs, begging for him to give me everything.
Finally, I find the words to tell him how truly I need him. Now and always, come what may. And he seconds my words, reassuring and claiming me with every part of his straining, muscular frame until I scream his name, digging my fingernails into his back and shuddering around his hot, thick need.
He follows behind, extending into me with one more powerful stroke as waves of pleasure shudder through him. His body relaxes, grip softening as he pants against my ear, kissing my neck and saying over and over, “I love you.”
By the time we exit the shower, my hands and feet look pruney, and I’m ready to go back to bed, deliciously exhausted by my gorgeous fireman lover. We tease each other as we dress, falling into a new kind of intimacy I could have never imagined with him.
Ambrose is so kind-hearted, so sweet, so delectably naughty and dangerous. And he can’t stay away, always finding another reason to wrap his arms around me and paint me in kisses.
The moment I’m dressed with my glasses in place, he sweeps me into his arms, carrying me downstairs to the kitchen and breakfast. He keeps his cell phone handy in anticipation of Gran’s call.
“How do you take your coffee?” he asks, every new question drawing us closer.
“Cream, no sugar.”
“Like me,” he says, grinning.
“Just like you.”
Setting me on my feet, he grabs mugs from a cabinet, poising them on the counter. He runs his hand through his hair, face growing serious. “You really were made for me, you know.”
“That’s what you keep saying,” I tease, fingering the petals of a fresh bouquet of flowers on the counter.
“Those are for you,” he says with a nod and a wink.
“But you never left the cabin this morning. How could you—”
“A simple call and change of address from your place to mine.”
“Wait,” I say, reeling at the romantic antics of this man. “You were planning on having flowers delivered to my house this morning.”
He winks. “You deserve the best of everything, and I mean to give it to you.”
He rounds the island, setting our coffees next to each other on the table. A veritable feast is laid out of freshly cooked sausage, country potatoes, scrambled eggs, and even blueberry muffins.
Beelining for me, he pulls me into his arms again, carrying me to the table and sitting down.
“You know, I am pretty good at walking. Done it for twenty-three years. Well, almost twenty-three. I imagine I was pretty immobile at first.”
“Well, I’ve been waiting thirty-one years to carry you, so I win. He grabs a sausage and slides it seductively between my lips. “And to feed you.” I bite off the tip, and he growl-winces. “And to please the hell out of you.”
“You’re an expert at that,” I sigh, melting against his bare chest like Dumpling did a week ago.
He grabs his phone, snapping a series of selfies as he coaches me to make different faces and follow along. The camera feels almost silly after the depth of last night and this morning, but he makes even this playful.
Setting it back down, his eyes meet mine, warm and intense, as he strokes my jawline fervently, saying, “I don’t want to forget one moment with you. Ever.”