Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Geraldine
I woke up to a quiet house, the kind of stillness that felt weird after days of Cosmo’s chatter and Christian’s easy laughs bouncing around Red Rock.
The sun was just up and spilled gold through the curtains, and I stretched out on the bed as my legs tangled in the quilt.
Yesterday had been a whirlwind because Cosmo and Christian rushed around and packed bags and muttered about some sudden cattle deal gone sideways that needed them in the next county over.
“Three days,” Cosmo had said and tossed me a grin as he hauled his duffel to the truck.
“Don’t burn the place down, alright?” Christian had nodded and tipped his hat back and added, “Keep Damian in line. He’s grumpy without us.
” Then they were gone, tires kicked up dust, and left me and the big, empty ranch with just Damian rattling around somewhere.
Three days alone with the broody one sounded like fun.
I rolled out of bed and pulled on jeans and a loose tank to,p and padded downstairs.
The kitchen was dead with no coffee brewing and no bacon sizzling, just the hum of the fridge.
I grabbed a mug anyway and filled it from the pot they’d left half-full yesterday and took it with me as I wandered.
With the guys gone, I figured I’d keep busy and maybe tackle some laundry I’d been putting off.
My clothes from the horse-washing day were still a mess, and that black dress needed a rinse.
I headed to the laundry room off the back hall, a small space with a washer and dryer and a sink, and the air smelled faintly of detergent and hay.
I dumped my stuff in the washer and sorted lights from dark, and was pouring soap when I heard footsteps behind me.
I glanced over my shoulder, and Damian was strolling in like he owned the place, which, fair, he kinda did.
But he wasn’t in his usual jeans and flannel.
He had on a robe, dark blue and loose, and hung open enough to show a stretch of tanned chest and the edge of boxers underneath.
His hair was damp like he’d just showered, and his jaw was shadowed with stubble.
He stopped in the doorway and crossed his arms, and looked at me with those dark eyes that always felt like they saw too much.
“Morning,” he said, his voice low and rough as he leaned against the frame. “I didn’t expect you up this early.”
“I couldn’t sleep,” I said, and turned back to the washer and started it up. The hum filled the room, and I wiped my hands on my jeans and faced him. “The house feels weird without those two clowns.”
“Yeah,” he said and nodded, and stepped closer. “Quiet’s not so bad, though.”
“I guess not,” I said and let my eyes drift over him, the robe slipping a little more as he moved and showed off hard lines and muscle from years of ranch work.
He was hot and always had been, but something about him standing there, casual and half-dressed, flipped a switch in me.
Cosmo and Christian were gone, and it was just us.
Why not have some fun? I stepped toward him and closed the gap, and tilted my head.
“You look relaxed for once. Did the shower do that?”
“It helps,” he said and didn’t back off, his gaze locking on mine. “Are you doing laundry all day?”
“Maybe,” I said and smirked and reached out to tug the edge of his robe. “Unless you’ve got a better idea.”
He raised an eyebrow, but his lips twitched with just a hint of a smile. “You’re trouble, you know that?”
“I’ve heard it before,” I said and slid my hand up his chest and brushed warm skin with my fingers. “Are you gonna do something about it?”
He didn’t answer with words. He grabbed my waist and pulled me in fast and kissed me hard and hungry like he’d been holding it back too long.
His mouth was hot and tasted faintly of toothpaste, and I kissed him back and pressed myself against him.
The robe parted more, and my hands roamed and traced the ridges of his abs, and then lower, and tugged at the waistband of his boxers.
He groaned into my mouth, a rough sound that sent heat straight through me, and his grip tightened and lifted me onto the edge of the sink.
“Damn it, Geraldine,” he said against my lips, his breath ragged as he shoved my tank top up and put his rough hands on my skin. “You don’t quit.”
“I’m not planning to,” I said and yanked the robe off his shoulders and let it drop to the floor.
He was all muscle and heat, and I wrapped my legs around his hips and pulled him closer.
His fingers dug into my thighs and slid up under my jeans, and I arched into him, the sink cold against my back.
I fumbled with his boxers and pushed them down, and he kicked them off and pressed himself against me, hard and ready.
“Hold on,” he said and reached past me and shoved a stack of towels aside to brace his hand on the wall.
I laughed, short and sharp, and undid my jeans and wiggled them down with his help until they hit the floor with my underwear.
He didn’t waste time because his mouth found my neck and grazed it with his teeth, and his hands gripped my hips and lifted me just enough.
I gasped as he pushed into me, slow at first and then deep, and filled me up with a thrust that made my nails bite into his shoulders.
“God, Damian,” I said, my voice breaking as he moved fast and wild, the sink rattling under us.
His skin was slick with sweat already, and I rocked with him and met every thrust, the heat building quickly.
He growled low, one hand sliding up to cup my breast through the tank top and brushing hard over the fabric with his thumb, and I moaned loud and shameless, the sound bouncing off the walls.
“Quiet,” he said, but his voice was wrecked, and he kissed me again and swallowed the noise.
His pace picked up and was relentless, and I clung to him with my legs tight around his waist, the friction driving me crazy.
The washer hummed behind us with a steady rhythm, but it was nothing compared to the way he moved, rough and desperate like he couldn’t get enough.
I slid a hand down his back and dragged my nails, and he shuddered and slammed into me harder, the edge of the sink digging into my thighs.
“More,” I said, breathless, and he obliged and shifted my hips to hit just right.
My head tipped back and banged the wall, and I didn’t care because pleasure coiled tight and sharp, and I gripped his hair and pulled him closer.
His mouth was on my collarbone and sucked hard enough to leave a mark, and I felt it coming, the wave crashing fast. “Damian,” I said, half a shout, and he thrust deep and sent me over.
I came hard and shook, my whole body locking around him, and he followed right after, a guttural sound tearing out as he pulsed inside me, his grip bruising my hips.
We stayed there and panted, his forehead pressed to mine, and sweat dripping between us.
The washer clicked off, and the room went quiet except for our breathing.
He pulled back slowly and was still inside me, and looked at me with dark and wild eyes.
“You’re gonna kill me,” he said, his voice hoarse.
“It’s worth it,” I said and grinned and slid off the sink on shaky legs. He stepped back, his chest heaving, and I grabbed my jeans and tugged them up as he bent to snatch his robe from the floor. My thighs ached already, and I could feel where he’d been, hot and messy and perfect.
“I guess so,” he sai,d and tied the robe shut and wiped a hand over his face. “Are you good?”
“I’m better than good,” I said and smoothed my tank top down and leaned against the sink. “You?”
He snorted, and a real laugh broke through. “Yeah. Damn good.”
“I thought so,” I said and sipped the cold coffee and smirked over the rim.“Laundry’s running. What now?”
“Shower,” he said, and ran a hand through his damp hair. “Again. You?”
“Same,” I said and set the mug down. “See you at breakfast?”
“Sure,” he said and headed for the doo,r and paused to look back. “Don’t start anything else till I’m done.”
“No promises,” I said, and he shook his head and walked out.
I listened to his steps fade up the stairs, the house settling back into quiet.
My legs were jelly, my skin still buzzed, and I laughed under my breath and set the mug down.
Three days without Cosmo and Christian just got a lot more interesting.
.