Chapter 23
Bull
WALKER
Ihave all kinds of good intentions.
I spend the better part of the afternoon rehearsing them.
I'm going to be mature about this. Reasonable.
I'm going to tell Sadie I hope she has a nice time tonight. That she can call or text if she needs anything. That Travis seems like a decent enough guy.
I'm going to be happy for her.
I repeat it to myself while I drop Jonah at my dad's place. While I drive home. While I rattle around the house alone with nothing but the sound of my own thoughts, which aren’t helpful, which haven’t been helpful all week.
I'm happy for her. She deserves a nice evening out. This is good. This is healthy. This is exactly what should happen.
Lies, lies, lies.
Should write a fucking song with that title.
The house feels too big without Jonah in it. It always does on Saturday nights, but tonight it feels particularly bad.
When I hear Sadie on the stairs, I look up with every intention of saying something mature and reasonable and kind.
And then I get a good look at her.
White dress, skintight. Cowboy boots. Hair down and loose around her shoulders, that deep copper catching the light. Lipgloss on.
In that little white dress, she looks virginal and not. Both at once, impossibly, in a way that makes my brain short-circuit completely.
Every good intention I have blazes out in a raging inferno.
Three weeks ago I had my hands all over her. Two weeks ago I had my fingers inside her. And somehow, seeing her standing in my kitchen doorway in that dress, I’m still completely unprepared for what she does to me.
How my brain goes full fucking caveman.
She is going to destroy me.
She does a small, bashful turn in the doorway. “How do I look?”
Like I'd like to lock you in my bedroom and throw away the key. Like every well-intentioned thought I've had in the last week just went up in smoke because you set it on fire.
“Fine,” I rasp.
Her face falls slightly, and she smooths her hands down the front of the dress. “Okay. Well. I'll be back.”
She turns. Takes one step toward the door.
And something in me snaps clean off. My self-control. My sanity.
I hear myself speak before I've decided anything.
“You wear that dress, he's gonna try like hell to fuck you.”
She halts mid-step. Then she spins around slowly, and the look on her face would make a weaker man wither and fall his knees. “I beg your pardon?”
“You heard me. Wearing that, you might as well be waving a red flag in front of a bull.”
She stares at me for one long moment. Then she moves, slowly stalking towards me, eyes as fiery as her hair. Seething.
She stops close enough that I can smell her perfume. Something new that she put on for tonight for him.
She presses one finger into the center of my chest. “That's rich. Coming from you.”
I keep my face neutral. “What's that supposed to mean?”
“Just that the only bull-headed man here is you. And you sure look like you’re ready to do some impaling.”
“I’m telling you, I know men. You don’t. You wear that dress, he’s going to spend the whole night plotting how to take it off you.”
Her blue eyes glimmer. “So what? I wear this dress, I’m asking for it, is that what you’re implying? Miss me with that bullshit.”
I move before I think. Two steps and my hands are on the counter on either side of her, bracketing her against the kitchen island.
Close enough that there's nothing between us but a few inches of charged air and the thin fabric of that diabolical dress and whatever shreds are left of my self-control, which isn’t a lot.
“What are you asking for, Sadie? You want some asshole sneaking glances at your tits all night long? Does that get you off, sweetheart?”
My fingers come up to trace along the neckline of her dress. Her breathing is shallow and her breasts are pushing up against the fabric. Gorgeous. Torturously gorgeous.
“You’re such an asshole,” she hisses.
Yeah. I am. But I’ve got my fingertips skimming across her tits right now and she’s not making any move to go anywhere.
She’s leaning in.
I bend closer, letting my lips brush her ear. “You want him getting you drinks, working you over? Trying to get you to come home with him? What do you think that man’s gonna do when he’s got you in his bed, baby? Tell you bedtime stories and braid your hair?”
“I don’t know. Given how young and inexperienced I am.” Her sarcasm is sharp as blade. “Given how pathetically little I understand of men. But if I had to guess, he’ll be looking to do the same thing you’ve been trying to talk yourself out of for weeks now.”
She gives me a fake-innocent look. “I think he’ll try to fuck me, Walker. Did I guess right?”
The words send blood rushing to my cock. I’m so fucking hard, and this woman drives me insane, and I’ve never felt so out-of-control in my life. “Don’t you fucking dare let him.”
“What do you care? You’ve got no skin in this game. It’s my body. I can do what I want with it.”
She’s right. Of course she’s right.
But my hands close around her waist without permission from any rational part of my brain anyway. Running along her curves like they belong there, like I have any right to do it.
And she watches me do it. Doesn't go anywhere.
Mine.
I’ve never been the possessive type. But Sadie’s brought out a whole new side of me, one that I never knew existed. One I don't know how to handle.
I want my mouth on every inch of her skin. I want her soft sighs and smiles and fiery spirit.
Desperately, I demand, “What happened to waiting for the man you’re in love with?”
“Maybe,” she says, blue eyes afire, “I’ve waited long enough to lose my virginity, and now I just want to get it over with. With a man who’s not too tortured and guilt-ridden to step up and do the job.”
She’s taunting me on purpose, and it’s fucking working.
I want to kiss her so fucking bad. I can’t let myself. If I start, I’ll never stop.
I spin her around so she’s got her back to me, her hands pressed to the counter. I press my palm flat against her stomach, pulling her harder back against me. My cock is already hard as I grind against her. She lets out a little sound of pleasure that makes me crazy.
“Careful how you tease, darlin.’” I gather her hair in my fist and move it to one side, baring the back of her neck so I can inhale her silky, perfumed skin. “Might get more than you bargained for.”
“Yeah, right,” she says. But she’s rubbing that sweet ass right back against me as I grind into her. “You’re all hat, no cattle. I offer you my cherry on a silver platter and you send it right back. Fuck you, Walker Rhodes.”
“So now you’re gonna throw away all your self-respect, waste it on some random guy?
” My hand moves from her stomach down to her ass and squeezes possessively.
“You gonna tell this asshole you’re offering up your untouched virgin cunt?
Think that’ll make him fuck you any better?
Make him treat you like a princess, like he should?
These boys don’t know shit about how to treat a woman like you. ”
I slide my hand between her legs, up that tight dress. All the way to her hot little cunt.
Her wet cunt.
Fuck me, but she likes this. The filthy things that come out of my mouth. The way I touch her, covetous and greedy for her. I don’t want to let her go. Now or ever.
She bites her lip, eyes fluttering shut as I stroke her clit the way she likes.
“You think some dumb kid is gonna know how to touch you?” My tongue and teeth graze along her earlobe as she bends her neck to give me more. “How to get your pussy wet? How to make you come like I do?”
I push two fingers inside her and she gasps.
“Well, you’re falling down on the job,” she says shakily. “So I guess I gotta get my kicks elsewhere.”
“Such a brat,” I breathe. “I should bend you over this counter and spank you.” When I curl my fingers against her g-spot, her pussy pulses around me.
“But you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Wouldn’t even be a punishment for you, darlin’.
I know how much you liked it when I hauled you over my shoulder and slapped your ass. ”
“I did not,” she hisses.
I smack her right cheek and she lets out a little moan.
“That’s for lying.”
Then I suckle the skin of her neck between my teeth. Leaving a hickey on purpose. Let her date see that.
“My little sweet virgin,” I whisper.
She shivers as my tongue follows where my teeth just were. I pump my fingers in and out of her hole until she’s moaning.
Slowly I pull them out.
“You’re gonna learn not to lie to me, baby. Not when your wet cunt tells me everything I need to know.”
Her hips squirm and rock against me, seeking the friction I’ve just denied her. “You fucking prick,” she breathes, grinding her pussy against me.
“Language, Sadie,” I taunt. “Such a dirty mouth. I should fill it with my cock. Wash it out with my cum.”
I unbutton my jeans and take my leaking cock out. Slick it along her pussy lips. I want to push my cock inside her like I’ve never wanted anything in my life.
My self control is hanging by a thread.
“Feel yourself baby.”
I drag my lips above her collarbone. Bite down and suckle, leaving another hickey. I’m marking her up like a damn animal.
“Pussy weeping for my cock. And you’re going out on a date with another man?” I kiss the mark I just left. “Poor fucking sap.”
“You told me I should date.” She’s rubbing her clit against the head of my dick and my fingers tighten on her hips. I’m so close to losing it. To putting it in her or just coming all over her, I can’t even tell which.
“I changed my mind,” I tell her. “You make me fucking crazy.”
I press down between her shoulder blades, pressing her down in to the countertop as I rut against her, along her slit, everywhere but into her.
“I had all kinds of good intentions. Then you come downstairs with your hair curled, perfumed, in that fuck-me dress, knowing exactly what it’d do to me.
” I thrust with every word. “And I lose. My. Mind.”