Chapter 5
CATALINA
Mr. Reynolds is everything I hoped for and more. He’s handsome, strong, kind, and serious. The conversations we share are fun and profound, and he makes me feel special and intelligent. Yet, he gets so close I can feel his warmth, then pushes me off like this is all silly.
Am I seeing things? Am I imagining his interest because I want him so much?
Lisa’s children race off around the lake, giggling and kicking water at one another.
Here and there, they turn to call me in.
I smile and shake my head. Though they’re sweet kids and I’ve given them loads of attention, today I can’t focus on anything other than Mr. Reynolds.
Why did he have my coat? Why was he sniffing it?
The part of my brain that was taught by my father, the part that thinks I’m always in the wrong, tells me it’s because it smelled bad. I can’t believe that part entirely, not after I brought the sweater to my face and smelled it myself.
Was Mr. Reynolds enjoying my scent?
I swallow around the knot in my throat. No, that has to be wishful thinking.
When I entered the dining room and saw him sitting there, with my piece of clothing, smelling it like it was the most delicious thing, I thought I could have him.
I thought, I daydreamed, that he would put me up on the table and claim me as his.
I’ve been reading too many romance novels. There’s no way a man as controlled as Mr. Reynolds would do something like that. In a place anyone could catch us.
Then I remember the day in the stable, and his hardness pressed to my back, and my mind whirls out of control. Nothing makes sense. I have no idea what’s going on, and I don’t know if I should fuel my hopes or let them go.
The sun bathes the skin on my exposed shins, and I lift my head again, watching the kids go around the lake.
Everyone’s here, either soaking in the fresh water or sunbathing.
Even Dad came, sitting in the shade with some book on law.
As if Mr. Reynolds would pop out of the ground and judge who is working and who isn’t.
Mr. Reynolds isn’t here. Of course he isn’t. He spent yesterday away, locked in his office. Avoiding me or just busy?
I sit up. My heart can’t take this anymore. This doubt. I won’t stay long, and soon I’ll be home, without another chance of ever finding out. My limbs grow heavy. Should I go after him? I hate not knowing, yes, but Dad would be so mad. He would go crazy if he knew what I feel for his boss.
Puta. Como tú madre. You only care about money. Should have become a good housewife but think too much of yourself. I have heard Dad say all these things, over and over.
Mr. Reynolds listened to everything I had to say about his horses, and he supported my decision of becoming a vet. Said it was an honorable job. It made my heart flutter, and the mere memory makes me want to see him again.
That’s it. I’m going after him. He can kick me out if he wants to, but I’ll at least know what is going on.
I shoot to my feet and start back into the house. The soft breeze makes the summer dress I’m wearing dance around my thick thighs. Dad curled his nose when he saw me wearing it, but I convinced him on the grounds we were going to the lake.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he spits as I pass his chair.
If I told him the truth, he’d drag me back to my spot. If I said I was going to grab my phone, he’d be pissed I wasn’t giving the other guests attention. As if that’s my duty. “Bathroom.”
Dad leans back into his chair, and he says nothing else. I slip back into the house through the back door, my bare feet slapping on the hardwood floors as I pick up my pace and climb the steps to Mr. Reynolds’s office.
He’s still locked in, the door shut. I slow down, pressing my ear to the wood.
Even with everything going on inside me, I don’t want to bother him.
I don’t want to appear desperate or convince him I’m a nuisance.
But there are no voices inside, so he’s not on the phone and not talking to any business associate. Instead, I hear his steps.
Heavy steps, going from one side of the office to the other. He stops for a moment, then starts again. Pacing. Pacing, stopping, checking something, then starting again. He mumbles something, but I can’t quite pick it up. He doesn’t start pacing again.
With my heart thundering, I turn the doorknob as quietly as possible. My face burns with the invasion, but there’s something else moving me now. Something warm, growing in my chest.
Mr. Reynolds is standing in front of the windows. He leans forward, both his hands on the glass as he looks down. Wow, his shoulders are so broad. He’s so big. Not in a muscular manner, but a man who was born to be burly, a man who has spent his life working and moving. My legs tremble.
What is he looking at, anyway?
“Where is she?” he voices, low enough I wouldn’t hear it outside.
My heartbeat spikes. Is he talking about me? The thrill of the possibility makes me step into the room, closing the door behind me. It shuts with a thud, and he whirls around to face me.
That gaze of his goes to surprised, then moves to something else.
It grows hooded as he gives me a once-over, slipping past my cleavage to my exposed legs.
For a moment, I’m afraid of what he’s going to think.
I’m curvy, full, and soft, my legs poked with flaws.
My heart slams against my ribcage as I wait for him to look at me again.
And when he does, the heat I see on his face almost has me on my knees.
“Catalina,” he breathes out, walking from behind his desk. Every step is slow, calculated, as if he doesn’t trust himself when he’s close to me. “What are you doing here?”
“I...” I haven’t thought of an excuse. “Just wondering if you needed anything.” As if he would ask me for a favor if he needed one. I was only the daughter of his employee. He had several people in the house willing to do things for him, my father included.
Mr. Reynolds stops, gripping the edge of his desk. “Catalina. You shouldn’t be here.”
I love the way he says my name. Like it’s an exotic, beautiful word, to be expressed only by his lips.
“Why not?” I challenge him, stepping closer.
The musky scent of him fills this place, sticking to the wood bookshelves and the hundreds of books, staining the leather chairs, and brushing against the floors.
I stop in front of him, my hip brushing the desk. And I have to look up to meet his gaze. He’s so very tall and so very big. I’m like a tiny doll when I’m next to him. And I like that.
He winces. “Do you have any idea how much you tease me?” His voice comes out low, gravelly. Restrained.
I blink. Twice. “Tease you?”
His chest moves up and down, the motion hypnotizing me.
I want to lie on top of him, fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.
“You’re so fucking pretty,” he rasps out like that’s something I could help.
Like that’s entirely my fault. “So pretty, and so smart. Every single thing that leaves your mouth tempts me. And then...” His gaze slides down my body again, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “You show up here. In a tiny dress.”
The dress isn’t that tiny, but I don’t have the time to tell him that. His big hand closes around my cheeks, gripping my jaw, and he tilts my face up. Lips brush mine, his beard scraping along my cheek and my chin. My heart shoots to my throat. My eyes widen.
“Mr. Reynolds,” I plead, I don’t know what for.
“You want me to kiss you?”
“Mr. Reynolds, I?—”
A small roar rises from his chest. It makes me shiver, heat pooling between my legs out of nowhere.
“Catalina,” he whispers against my ear, facial hair brushing against my skin, making me shudder.
My nipples harden, and I choke on my breath, wanting to feel that beard all over my body. “Tell me what you want.”
Oh, yes. I wasn’t imagining it. Turning my face so I can stare into his vivid eyes, I lick my lips. “I want you to kiss me.”
And he does. God, he does, and it’s the best thing in the entire world.
His lips are hard and demanding. I part mine for him, and his tongue dips inside.
Our breaths mix and mingle, and every stroke of his sensual tongue makes my panties grow wet.
I shoot out my hands to grip at his shirt, hoping my knees won’t give out.
He locks an arm around my waist, pressing me to his hard body, and I can’t help but gasp at the hard length digging into my stomach.
Mr. Reynolds’s hand slides down my face to my neck. He closes his thick fingers around it, and I feel my hastened heartbeat against his palm. My legs tremble. Mr. Reynolds sits me up on the desk with one swift move.
“What else do you want from me?” he asks in a voice much gruffer.
“Touch me,” I plead. “Touch me, please.”
“Such a well-behaved girl,” he compliments into my ear, and that sends my mind into a hurricane of emotions. I love that. I love him complimenting me, I don’t know why. His fingers trace down the side of my body, leaving heat in their wake, and he closes a hand around my left thigh. “Here?”
I part my knees, and he walks between them. Even with me sitting on top of the desk, he’s still much taller, his body shadowing mine. Whatever he wants to do to me, he can. I would allow anything.
“Higher,” I ask, spreading my legs until the dress rides up, almost showing my panties off.
His rough hand climbs my thigh, the thumb stroking a circle on the inner part of it. My breath catches. “Here?” he asks once more.
I gape down at the hard length of his member twitching inside his pants. “Can’t you... take it out?”
This time, Mr. Reynolds roars. He fists my hair, cocking my head back, and devours my lips. So hard I feel the unsaid things. How he wanted me from the moment I walked in. How beautiful he thinks I am.
“Don’t say that, kitten,” he whispers, and I almost turn into a puddle. “I’m doing my best to restrain myself from taking you right here. Where anybody could see us.”
I shiver with the promise. “And why don’t you?” I pull back to meet his gaze. “I want you, Mr. Reynolds. So much.”
“You can call me Julian.” And he kisses me again.
Until I’m breathless, bracing against the desk with both my hands, moving my hips to get closer to him.
“I don’t know how, but you bewitched me, kitten.
You hypnotized me. I can’t think of anything other than you.
Can’t focus. Can’t act like a human being.
I’m obsessed.” And he brushes his lips past my jaw to my ear, nibbling until I’m mewling his name.
“I’m obsessed with you. I’ve never wanted anyone like this. Never wanted anyone this bad.”
His words drape over me like hot cocoa, and I soak in them. He wants me, and I want him. I don’t care about anything else, don’t care about what my father will think and what will happen after this. His kisses sear into my flesh, and at that moment, I know it.
I know I’ve been holding out for him.
“Please,” I beg, gripping his wrist. “Please, take me.”
Another roar. “I can’t. Not like this. Ask something else, kitten.”
I’m flushed and gasping for air when I meet his eyes. “Touch me. Please.”
Mr. Reynolds kisses me once more, then rushes his fingers up the inside of my thighs and touches the covered part of me. I jolt with the sensation, liquid lava racing through my veins. He doesn’t stop as I moan out loud, tracing circles over the most sensitive part of me.
Then he pulls my panties aside and touches my juices. His kisses become more violent, demanding, and I know he enjoys how wet I am for him. With my arousal, he flicks my clit, and God, it’s the best thing in the entire world.
“Mr. Reynolds,” I cry out, unable to think of his name, of what people will say, of someone walking in on us. “Oh, God!” And he massages my clit, first in circles, then skating his fingers in expert moves as if he’s always known how to work me into a frenzy.
And into a frenzy I go, moving against his hand, over his desk, bucking into his fingers.
Pleasure like nothing I’ve ever felt takes over, making me shiver, cry out, moan.
He holds me against his body, his cock digging into my leg.
I want to take it in my hands, want to adore it the way he adores me.
Mr. Reynolds won’t hear of it, moving out of the way every time I try.
“It’s all about you, kitten,” he murmurs into a perfect spot behind my ear. “I want to learn everything about you. Let me hear you come.”
And I do. Like my body had been waiting for an order, I climb onto the edge then drop straight from it.
Pleasure rockets through my body, making me jerk like I stuck a finger into a power socket.
It explodes in bright lights behind my lids, and my body goes limp, but he keeps me against him, flush against his chest. Protected. Safe.
I take a moment to come down from that high.
Nothing has ever felt that intense. I look up to meet his eyes, sparkling bright, and then he kisses me again and again, and we spend some twenty minutes just exploring each other’s mouths, his hands stroking up and down my legs, arms, and back, as I hold on to him like a life jacket.
Mr. Reynolds pulls back, and he gives me a rare smile. “I think it’s almost time for lunch. Let’s get something inside you.”
And though I wanted something else inside me, I accept lunch for the time being. Because I know, without a doubt, that we were made for this moment, and that I won’t walk away without this man.