Chapter 10
By the time they left the town of Ironhaven and got back on the road to head to the ranch, the sun was an orange smear low on the edge of the Black Hills. They didn’t talk on the drive. Didn’t need to. It was enough that neither had bailed on the other earlier that day.
Gavin pulled up next to his cabin and parked his SUV before he turned off the engine. He stayed in the driver’s seat, hands still on the wheel, not looking at her.
Asha waited, then said, “I’ll head in first. Thanks for the ride back.”
He didn’t answer right away. Just turned, and for the first time since town, really looked at her. The air between them was raw, like a scraped knee. “You want to come in? For a minute? There’s probably a lot we need to talk about.”
It came out flat, but she could still hear the need riding underneath. She nodded, her voice stuck somewhere in her chest.
They got out and she followed him to his cabin. Gavin unlocked the door, held it open just long enough for her to slip past, then shut it behind them.
Gavin dropped his keys onto the table near the door. He stood with his back to her, staring out the window. She circled the room with slow steps, trailing one finger along the smooth wood of the furniture. She let herself breathe for the first time since the vet’s office.
He turned then, caught her in the middle of the room, and for a second neither of them moved.
“You want something to drink?” he asked, voice hoarse.
She almost said yes. Almost let the moment spin out with the safety net of small talk. But the look on his face was too open, unguarded, and she changed her mind. “Not thirsty.”
He nodded, coming closer. He started to sit, then changed direction before he dropped onto the couch, elbows on knees, hands steepled in front of him. She stayed standing.
“Didn’t think you’d actually come inside,” he said, eyes on the floor.
Asha considered. “Didn’t think you’d invite me.”
He snorted, a dry, one-sided laugh.
The silence was thick, but not the kind that demanded filling. It was still, but not uncomfortable. It felt like both of them were waiting for a green light.
Asha crossed to the couch and sat down, not at the opposite end, but right next to him. Their thighs didn’t touch, but they could have if either shifted an inch. She felt his body heat, the faint tremor in his leg where it bounced, the measured way he breathed.
She leaned back, letting her shoulders sink into the cracked leather. Her head tipped up, eyes on the ceiling, where a single brown stain tracked the line of an old leak.
They sat like that, side by side, the only light coming from the lamp in the corner. It cast long shadows across the floor, pooling at their feet.
After a while, Gavin’s hand drifted to his thigh, fingers drumming out a staccato pattern. It was the same three-and-two rhythm she’d clocked him doing at the mess hall. She watched it for a second, then placed her own hand over his, stilling it.
He flinched but didn’t pull away.
“You want me to go?” Asha would not stay anywhere she wasn’t welcomed.
He shook his head, a slow, negative. More than anything he wanted her to stay, but still had no idea how to make the words leave his lips. He was a man who commanded large boardrooms and multi-million dollar deals, but couldn’t tell the woman next to him that he didn’t want her to leave.
She turned his hand over, palm up. Scarred, calloused, but steady.
She traced a line from wrist to the base of his thumb, then let her own hand settle there, fingers lacing with his.
For a long moment, they just breathed together.
Her thumb stroked the ridge of his knuckle. His hand tightened, then loosened.
“I want you so fucking much,” he said in a low tone.
She smiled, barely. “The feeling’s mutual.”
He looked up, eyes hooded. “No, baby. I mean it.”
Asha nodded and smiled at him. “So do I.”
She shifted, angled her body toward him. Her leg pressed into his now, solid contact, no retreat. She felt his breath quicken, the electric buzz in the air ramp up two notches.
He stared at her mouth, then her eyes, then back again. His hand came up, brushing a finger along her cheek.
Asha let it happen, didn’t move or flinch. The touch was light, almost reverent.
He couldn’t help but ask. “You sure about this? Being here, with me?”
Asha nodded. “Yes.” There was no need to say more than that.
He leaned in, the distance closing in a heartbeat. Their lips met, tentative, both of them holding back at first. He pulled back half an inch, as if to check her reaction. She answered by pulling him in again, harder this time, her hand curling behind his neck.
The kiss deepened, no hesitation now. She opened for him, let him in, the heat blooming in her chest and rolling down her spine.
His hands found her shoulders, her jaw, then drifted to her waist, pulling her closer.
She shifted, knees touching, bodies angled toward each other, the space between them collapsing.
The couch groaned under their weight, but neither cared. They broke only when breathing demanded it, both panting, faces close.
“I should’ve done that a long time ago. I was being an ass. I never should have denied what we both felt that night,” Gavin was willing to admit when he had fucked up.
She grinned, feral. “Yeah, you were too busy pretending you didn’t want the same thing I did.”
He laughed, for real this time, and the sound vibrated through her skin.
They kissed again, slower now, savoring it.
Her hands slid under his shirt, fingers running along the hard line of his back, tracing every ridge and scar.
He let her, didn’t tense or shy away. She felt the old burns along his ribs, the rough patch above his hip.
She pressed her lips against his neck, kissing the skin, then met his eyes.
“You want to go slow, or…” Asha knew what she wanted, but this moment was for both of them.
“I want you,” he leaned in and said against her lips. “Doesn’t matter how it happens. Neither of us are going anywhere tonight.”
She pushed him back into the couch, straddling his lap, her hands on either side of his face. The kiss this time was all heat and hunger. They lost track of time. Nothing mattered but the two of them in this moment. Fuck the world outside.
They only broke apart when the room tilted from lack of oxygen. Asha slid off his lap, boots hitting the floor. Gavin’s hand stayed tangled in the back of her shirt, holding on like she might ghost him if he let go.
He drew her in for another kiss, this one slow and heavy, a pull that left her dizzy. She let him, let herself fall into it, hands roaming along his torso, mapping out the muscle and the rough terrain of his scars.
He suddenly stood bringing her up with him. Their mouths never broke. He walked her backward, step by awkward step, until they hit the bedroom door. She laughed into his mouth, then shoved him through first, not bothering to flick on the light.
The room was just as basic as hers. A bed, dresser, bathroom, but nothing else.
Moonlight spilled through the window, casting everything in blue-white and shadow.
Gavin reached for her waist, guided her to the edge of the mattress, then stopped.
He just stood there, breathing hard, eyes locked on hers.
Asha gripped the front of his shirt and pulled him down on top of her. They landed with a bounce, and for a second they both laughed, the sound sharp and quick and stupidly necessary.
He kissed her again, this time softer. She opened to him, fingers sliding up under his shirt, nails scratching just enough to make him shiver.
He tugged her tee up, baring her stomach, then let his mouth follow the curve of her belly, the shallow dip above her navel. She arched into him, a wordless signal.
He got her shirt over her head and dropped it to the floor.
Regular bra, nothing fancy, but the way her chest rose and fell underneath it made him ache.
He’d have painted her picture to see her like this for the rest of his life if he could.
He peeled it off slowly, letting his fingers skim the line of her shoulder, the dip at her clavicle.
Asha didn’t hide. She never had. She just stared right back at him, daring him to look away first.
He didn’t.
She pulled at his shirt, got it off him, then ran her palms up his sides, pausing at every notch and line of ruined flesh. “You’re beautiful,” she said, then shook her head, like the word wasn’t enough.
He barked a laugh, surprised. “I’m not beautiful. I’m fucked up all over.”
“You’re beautiful to me,” she said, and kissed him again.
They fumbled with the rest, jeans catching on thighs, buttons refusing to pop, her sock getting stuck at the heel. By the time they were naked, both were out of breath, grinning like idiots.
Gavin eased her onto her back, propped up on his elbows above her.
He went slow, giving her time, letting his hands roam.
She was strong, everywhere. Her shoulders, legs, and her tight stomach.
But he found the soft places, too. The inside of her arm, the smooth line behind her knee, the spot at the base of her throat that made her pulse jump.
He kissed her there, then lower, then lower still, taking his time, not just for her but for himself. He wanted to remember every second. Asha threaded her hands into his hair, pulled him up, then down, her breaths turning to ragged little moans that made him ache to hear.
He slid inside her, slow and careful, like navigating treacherous waters.
She went still beneath him, eyes wide and mouth open in a perfect oval, a sound caught somewhere between pleasure and surprise lodged in her chest. He froze, muscles trembling with restraint, searching her flushed face for any sign of hesitation, but she nodded with a quick, desperate jerk of her chin.
"Don't stop," she said, her voice a low moan that vibrated through the moonlit darkness.