6. Catalina
Catalina
S unlight pours into the kitchen, and Carter is leaning against the counter like a smug bastard. He’s shirtless again, coffee mug in hand, tattoos flexing every time he lifts it to his mouth.
And even worse, he’s smiling at me, all gentle and loving, like he didn’t ruin my entire existence last night.
I slam the fridge shut a little too hard. He raises a brow.
“What’s got you all worked up, darlin’?”
I whirl around, pointing a finger at him. “I’m mad at you.”
His smile falters just a fraction. “What? Why?”
“You edged me for hours. Hours! You dragged it out, teased me until I was ready to combust, and then—” I throw my hands up, “—you just sat there acting like it was your God-given right to torture me. I should hate you right now.”
He chuckles, shaking his head. “Baby, you loved it. You were beggin’ so sweet for me?—”
“Don’t start,” I snap, jabbing my finger at his chest. “I’m still mad.”
He smirks into his coffee, takes another slow sip, then has the audacity to say, “Baby, calm down.”
Oh?
Yeah, that’s a FUCK NO from me.
The fuck you mean, calm down.
My jaw drops. “What did you just say to me?”
He sets his mug down, brows lifted like he doesn’t even realize the war he’s just declared. “I said calm down, baby. You’re gettin’ all riled up over nothin’.”
“?Nada?” The heat in my blood goes nuclear, Spanish pouring out before I can stop it.
“?Que te jodan, Carter! No me digas que me calme, pendejo de mierda. ?Quién carajos te crees, eh?” (“Nothing?”“Fuck you, Carter! Don’t tell me to calm down, you fucking asshole.
Who the fuck do you think you are, huh?”)
His brows shoot up, and he leans back against the counter, grinning.
I’m still going, pacing the kitchen, my hands flying everywhere. “?Eres un desgraciado, un cabrón! Te odio, te odio, te odio—” (“You're a bastard, a bastard! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you?—“)
He’s laughing, actually laughing. “Darlin’, I’ve got no idea what you said, but it sounded hot as fuck.”
I gape at him, furious. “Hot? Hot? I’m cussing you out in two languages and you’re standing there with your stupid smile?—”
He sets his mug down, stalks toward me, and cages me against the counter before I can finish. “Can’t help it,” he says, gripping my jaw. “You’re sexy when you’re mad.”
I escape his hold and push past him before he can even think about kissing me, because no. He doesn’t get to edge me for hours, then tell me to “calm down,” and try to charm his way out of it with one look.
Not this time.
“Where you goin’, darlin’?” he calls after me, all lazy and smug.
“AWAY FROM YOU!” I shout, grabbing his keys off the hook by the door.
“Cat—”
Too late.
I’m already slamming the door and stomping across the porch like a woman possessed. The Tennessee heat hits me full force, but I don’t care. I march straight to his truck, his precious truck, and throw myself inside.
The engine roars to life beneath me, and oh, it feels good.
Petty? Absolutely. But sometimes, you have to make a point.
I gun it across the gravel drive, tires spitting rock, and head straight for the pasture. The wide stretch of open land shimmers in the morning sun, and I treat it like a racetrack, hair flying, heart pounding, fury still bubbling in my chest.
“CALM DOWN, HE SAYS,” I scream over the roar of the engine, yanking the wheel hard and sending the truck drifting sideways through the grass.
Dust billows in a giant cloud behind me, the whole cab rattling as I fishtail, laughing and cussing in Spanish at the same time.
His truck lurches, the pasture blurs, and adrenaline rushes through me. For once, it’s not panic—it’s pure, wild chaos, the kind that makes me feel alive.
I spin the wheel again, drifting hard, the tires screaming against dirt.
My eyes lift briefly, and there’s my loving husband.
Carter stands by the fence, arms crossed, watching me tear up his land in his truck. He doesn’t wave or shout. Instead, he stares at me with a blend of exasperation and heat that makes me want to speed up just to annoy him.
So I do.
I slam the gas, looping around him, spinning the wheel sharp enough to kick up a cloud of dust that engulfs him head to toe.
His muffled cough carries over the roar of the engine, and I cackle, wild and unrepentant.
“CALM DOWN, MY ASS!” I holler out the window.
The dust hasn’t even settled before I’m flooring it again, laughter bubbling out of me like I’ve gone completely unhinged. Because maybe I have.
Who does Carter Hayes think he is, telling me to calm down?
I yank the wheel, making the truck slide sideways again, tires screeching, pasture grass tearing underneath me. The seatbelt jerks against my chest, but I don’t care.
The chaos feels exhilarating. Cathartic.
“?Vete a la mierda!” I scream out the window, flipping him off as I fishtail past. (“Fuck off!”)
Carter’s still standing at the fence, arms crossed, jaw clenched. He looks like he’s trying not to lose it.
I slam the gas and fly across the pasture, cutting a wide circle around the hay bales. The back end of his truck swings wide, dirt spraying everywhere, my hair whipping around me.
The tires bounce over a dip, sending me briefly airborne. My shriek is a mix of terror and delight. When the truck crashes back down, I’m laughing so hard my stomach aches.
“CALM DOWN, HE SAYS,” I holler, pounding the steering wheel. “??Me quieres muerta o QUé, Carter?!” (“Do you want me dead or WHAT, Carter?!”)
I loop again, gunning it harder this time, drifting so wide the entire back end kicks out into a spin. Dust explodes in every direction, and I throw my head back, cackling.
Somewhere behind the haze, I catch sight of him again.
Carter’s moving now, striding toward me with murder in his eyes, his hat pulled low, his whole body coiled tight like he’s seconds from snapping.
It only fuels me.
“Catch me if you can, cowboy!” I scream, leaning out the window to wave before I whip the wheel and send the truck flying in another wide arc.
The horn blares as I slam it for good measure, laughing until tears streak my face, the world spinning in dust and adrenaline.
His truck screeches to a stop in the middle of the pasture, dust rolling past the windshield in thick waves. My heart is hammering, adrenaline surging, laughter bubbling out of me so loud it echoes.
I turn around to see him making his way to me, closing the distance.
Carter is storming across the field in long strides, his jaw clenched, eyes blazing. He looks like the devil himself, impatient and seconds away from yanking me out of the cab by my hair.
Which, obviously, only makes me worse.
I fling the door open and leap down, my boots hitting the dirt. Heart pounding, I don’t run away from him; instead, I turn in the opposite direction, sprinting across the pasture with my hair streaming behind me.
“CATALINA!” he bellows, voice booming.
I look over my shoulder, smirking. “COME GET ME, BABY!”
Because I’m dramatic, horny, and absolutely unhinged, I strip.
First, I pull the tank top over my head and toss it into the air like confetti. Then I kick off my shorts while still running, laughing hysterically as they land somewhere in the grass. My bra comes off next, unclipped on the fly and thrown behind me.
I reach the hay bales, down to nothing but my panties, dust sticking to my sweaty skin, my chest rising and falling. I spin around, hands on my hips, grinning like the feral menace I am.
Carter stands ten feet away, frozen, fists clenched at his sides, his chest heaving rapidly. His eyes scorchingly sweep over my body, and the growl that escapes his throat causes my stomach to churn.
“Jesus Christ, Catalina,” he snarls, taking a step forward, “you’ve lost your goddamn mind.”
I smirk, backing up onto the hay bale. “Or maybe I just wanted an audience.” I tug at the waistband of my panties, teasing. “Tell me to calm down again, and I’ll take these off, too.”
His blue eyes darken, wild, dangerous, locked on me like prey.
Come here, baby.
I take off again, barefoot now, dust sticking to my skin, laughter ripping out of me as I sprint across the pasture in nothing but panties. The sun beats down, my lungs burn, but the rush of it makes me feel unstoppable.
“CATALINA!”
I glance over my shoulder; he’s closing in fast. His long legs cover the ground quickly, chest heaving, sweat sparkling on his tattooed arms. His jaw is clenched, his eyes locked onto me like I’m prey he’s about to catch.
I shriek, laughing harder, and push myself faster.
For a second, I might outrun him.
But then he’s there.
His strong arm hooks around my waist, yanking me off balance, and I crash against his chest with a squeal. We tumble into the grass, his body pinning mine down, as dust puffs up around us.
“Got you,” he growls, his breath hot against my ear.
I’m panting, writhing, still laughing even as he traps me in the dirt. “Let me go!”
“No.” His mouth crashes onto mine, his tongue sweeping in deep.
I moan into him, grinding up against the hard line of his cock straining through his jeans, desperate for more.
“Fuck, Carter,” I gasp when he tears his mouth away, his lips trailing down my neck, biting, sucking until I know he’s leaving marks.
“Every damn day,” he murmurs against my throat, “you’re a surprise. Chaotic, dramatic, drivin’ me insane.” He lifts his head, those blue eyes burning into mine, softer now. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way, darlin’.”
The sweetness of it melts me, even as his hand slides down my body, palming my breast, squeezing hard enough to make me arch up into him.
I crash my mouth back onto his, moaning, the kiss turning filthy again as our tongues tangle, his teeth tugging my bottom lip, my hands clawing at his back. He grinds against me, letting me feel just how hard he is.
“You’re mine,” he groans against my lips, kissing me harder, deeper, until I’m dizzy. “Always gonna be mine.”
In the middle of the pasture, half-naked and covered in dirt, I let him ruin me all over again with only his mouth, his body, and his love.