by Harloe Rae
The rising sun attempts to streak in through the curtains, urging me to get a move on. I turn to glance at the clock, a sigh slouching my shoulders. It’s barely eight. Alice made me promise not to pick up Millie until at least eleven. They’re taking her out for breakfast to get blueberry pancakes with sprinkles. My stomach lets a loud rumble loose at the thought of breakfast.
A yawn fit for a lion has me whipping around. The bedframe groans from my erratic motions. It’s a shock the antique wood is still holding strong. Crawford rouses with a stretch, showing off slabs of chiseled muscle and temptation. The sheet tents when he rolls to his back. Much to his credit, that defined ridge delivered more orgasms than I care to count. A spasm twitches in my thighs, and I swallow a moan. Such a pity this won’t go further. I shift onto my side, the movement jostling him again.
Crawford pins me with a heavy-lidded stare. “Dammit, woman. Why is your mattress so bouncy?”
That’s one way to start a conversation. I huff at him, tacking on an eye roll for good measure. “Didn’t hear any complaining when those springs were working in your favor.”
“No, you definitely couldn’t over all that screaming.” A low growl rolls out of him. “Kinda surprised your voice isn’t shot to shit.”
I feel my face go up in flames and fight the instinct to burrow under the covers. “It takes a lot more than that.” In reality, my vocal cords are rubbed raw and scratchy.
His brows shoot up. “I find that hard to believe.”
“You would.”
“Without a doubt.” Crawford rolls toward me, the comforter shifting to give me a peek I didn’t need.
The gleam in his greenish brown eyes reflects immense satisfaction. I’m sure mine mirror the same. He’s sleep rumpled, yet more attractive than any man should be. His hair is disheveled, much like the rest of him. Lines from the pillow crisscross his cheek, adding to the already angular edges of his scruffy jaw. Just gawking at him gets my engine purring again. Good grief, I should be more than sated. I’ve had more sex in the last eight hours than the past three years combined.
He gives me a lazy perusal, those hazel depths scorching a path along my body. I tremble as the embers of lust spark in my lower belly. In that moment, and not a second sooner, I become all too aware of my nakedness. With a yelp, I tug the sheet up to my neck.
A devious chuckle drips off his lips. “I’ve seen it all, wildcat. No reason to hide.”
I quirk a brow at the nickname, not entirely sure it’s warranted. The bite mark where his shoulder meets his neck says otherwise. Guess I’m not the only one with lingering evidence. “It’s morning.”
He glances at the window, catching the glowing outline that’s framing the blinds. “So it is.”
I tuck some tangled hair behind my ear. “I’m surprised you stayed.”
“You wore me out. No way was I getting on my bike after all that.” His soft expression oozes charm I’m certain he’s not aware makes him exactly my type. I could easily fall for him and reap the inevitable consequence for being reckless. Getting attached isn’t an option. I drop my gaze from the enchanting possibilities. My heart can’t withstand another fracture.
“I need to shower.”
“That almost sounds like an invitation,” he purrs.
“It’s not.”
He lets another rusty chuckle loose. The gritty sound tickles my exposed nerves. I curl my toes into the blanket so I don’t do something reckless, like straddle his face.
“Damn, are you always this snarky?”
I bristle at his implication. “No, this is only reserved for those deserving.”
He grunts. “I feel special.”
“You shouldn’t.”
He straightens, fixing me with a glare meant to intimidate. “Fuck, Keegan. What’s your deal?”
I grind my molars. “Nothing. I’m fine.”
Crawford shakes his head. “Try again. Even I know ‘fine’ does not mean fine.”
I open my mouth with a snappy retort, but think better of it. This is going nowhere, just as planned. “All right, whatever. Thanks for the, uh…”
“Sex?”
“Mh-hmm, exactly. It was great.”
He hooks a brow up at me. “Maybe we’ll do this again sometime.”
“It’s probably best if we don’t.”
A furrow lines his forehead. “Oh?”
“This was…fun. But it’s over, and we can’t let it happen again. I don’t want to give Millie another reason to get attached.”
“Ouch, Kee.”
I twist my lips to one side. “Now I’m Kee?”
A single shoulder lifts. “I’m good at dishing out nicknames. Who knew?”
“Not me, but that’s not surprising.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” His tone clangs with the echo of going on the defense, but I ignore it.
“You’re one rung above a total stranger. I know next to nothing about you.”
“Why give anything away when I get nothing in return?”
I toss my hands up. “And that’s fine. I didn’t ask for details. We aren’t dating.”
“Thank fuck for that.”
A scream tickles the back of my throat. “But you’re still lying in my bed.”
“You’re kicking me out?” His expression is stony, cut marble and granite.
“This is my house.”
“Didn’t realize my welcome was worn out.”
I repeat my mantra. Remaining indifferent is vital. “One night, remember?”
“Trust me, I didn’t forget.”
“So, what’s the issue?”
“You’re trying to get rid of me.” He slaps a palm to his chest.
“Because this is what we agreed to. I can’t do a casual fling, Ford.”
“Never mentioned that.”
“Fine, hooking up, whatever you want to call it. I’m not looking to get involved with anyone, especially for random sex. I have Millie to think about. Things get messy.”
“I’m a sloppy loose end?”
“No, that’s why we tie it up right now.”
“Right, got it.” He rolls out of bed, stalking to his lump of clothes.
I swing my legs out from under the covers. “Am I the bad guy here?”
He widens his stance, naked and totally unashamed. “Nah, we’re square. Give and take. We can share the blame.”
A frosty chill zips through me when my feet land on the cold floor. “I’m confused. Why are you mad? I thought we had—”
“And that’s your problem. Assumptions ruin the best of intentions.”
“Do you regret this?” I motion between us.
He barely spares me a glance. “I do now.”
Within seconds, I can feel my self-preservation kick in. Fight or flight? I stand and snatch a discarded shirt, wrenching it over my head. The thin material does little to hide my modesty but anything is better than standing completely nude. Woodsy smoke and pine swirl around me, but the heady aroma is chased away by a cloud of red. “Nice to see you again, asshole. I was beginning to wonder when those true colors would bleed through.”
Crawford mocks a wince and clutches one of his ridiculously toned pecs. “Oh, fuck. That would hurt if I cared.”
Mere hours ago, this man was responsible for my endless loop of pleasure. How did we flip upside down so fast? The memories I was planning to use are already tarnishing. Those smudges spread the steeper his scowl dips. I should’ve known, of course. This is a lesson I’ve learned enough to truly sink in. What goes up must always come crashing down. “No wonder you live alone in the woods, Ford. Pushing people away must be your specialty.”
The sound that rips out of him is bitter. “At least I don’t bother hiding it. You have imaginary walls built so high no one stands a chance at climbing over.”
I sputter. “Me? That’s ludicrous.”
“Is it?”
Isn’t it? I part my lips to say just that, only to snap them shut a second later. T
here’s no way Crawford could know how close his words slice to the truth. “I should’ve stayed the hell away from you.” The words are spat at him, but the reminder is all mine.
“No regrets, yeah?” The bastard winks at me.
The desire to throw something at his head flexes my biceps. I curl my fingers into trembling fists instead. Why did I sleep with him?
The answer is simple and standing three feet in front of me. Arrogant prick he might be, but our chemistry is combustible. My wits haven’t reached their end, but those flimsy strands are splintering beyond recognition. The ability to think rationally is following close behind. Fuck second guessing. Caution doesn’t exist in this equation.
Crawford yanks on his jeans, not bothering with briefs. The denim bulges over his hard length. How he’s still aroused is beyond me. Well, that’s not entirely true. I’m getting turned on by this standoff. An electrical current zaps over my skin as I match his fierce glower with one of my own. His exhales are ragged, puffing into the stagnant room. I watch the veins in his neck pulse. There’s so much anger thrumming just below the surface. Is all of that hostility because of me? And why does the potential of that get me so…hot?
He tears his gaze away to search for his shirt. I gasp at the loss, sucking much-needed air into my lungs. Had I been holding my breath? Everything slows down for two sluggish blinks. After that, a burst of vibrant awareness widens my eyes. Crawford has narrowed the space separating us, hovering on the edge of my bubble. His proximity sends a bolt of electricity through me. I smash my mouth shut to trap a squeak. His lip curls in a silent snarl.
“Taking a souvenir?”
I cross my arms. The question is a puzzle, but I’m not willing to admit defeat. “That won’t be necessary.”
He’s staring at my breasts, pebbled nipples and all. “Sure about that?”
“Such a gentleman,” I mutter.
Crawford prowls closer, fury swirling in his eyes. I remain rooted in place, but my stomach is doing somersaults. “A nice guy is the last thing you want right now.”
I scoff at that. “Because you know me so well.”
The remaining space keeping him from me crackles with too much tension. “Claim ignorance toward me, but I studied every inch of you last night. Your body is betraying those lies spilling out of you.”
My chest is rising and falling too fast. “Don’t start something you don’t have the balls to finish.”
His expression is thunderous. “Are you giving me permission?”
As if he needs it. I tip my chin even higher. “Didn’t I already?”
Crawford is on me in the next beat of my thundering heart. His pants sag with the motion, putting him on display. He doesn’t give me a chance to register how this situation is affecting him. We crash together in a turbulent avalanche. The force is powerful enough to crumble the most solid structures into dust.
His massive palms grip my thighs and haul me up against the wall. I grapple against him for some fake sense of stability. This position has me spread and exposed and his for the fucking. Crawford takes full advantage of my pinned form, not wasting a moment.
He slams into me with one savage thrust, the air whooshing from my lungs from the force. The energy passing between us is super-charged. I could almost reach out and grab the rope tethering him to me. But concentrating on anything other than this man and the riot of desire flooding my veins is impossible.
Within two pumps, speckles skip along the edge of my vision. I’m going to come embarrassingly fast. My body is too primed, already nearing the cliff of what will be utter humiliation. Every piece of me is humming for release. He will no doubt use the pleasure against me, but fringes of climax tickle my spine. I squeeze my eyes shut, shoving off the tingling plea for oblivion. Not yet. I refuse to surrender.
He rams into me with a particularly vicious shove. My bones chatter from the impact and a shudder wracks through me. I manage to keep the keening glee on lockdown.
“Where’s your sass, huh? That bold woman from last night had a lot to say.”
I jut out my jaw at a defiant angle. “That was different.”
The brown in his eyes darkens. “Give me your wrath, wildcat.”
The angry purple stain on his neck mocks me, reminding me of my wanton behavior. I latch my lips on the mark, bruising him further.
Crawford hisses as he pounds into me. “Oh, it’s like that?”
I release his skin with a pop. A smile I can only hope looks wicked curves my mouth. “Absolutely.”
“All right, then.” His fingers dig into my ass and hips, hard enough to leave another set of reminders. “I’m not letting you wash me off that easily.”
The hint of pain has me bucking against him. Not to dislodge, only for encouragement. There’s nothing nice about what’s happening between us. He’s fucking me so hard we might crack the drywall. A flurry of emotions bombard me, all of them conflicting. How should I feel about this?
Crawford’s thrusts are punishing, meant to make a statement and leave a lasting impression. I’m sure that’s his intention. At this rate, it’s a guarantee that I’ll be feeling him for days after. There’s no question this jerk is highly skilled and extremely well-equipped.
Each punch of his hips borders on the right side of hurting. I’m tender and sensitive, but the burn keeps me connected to reality. His motions are a mix of wild frenzy and rough corners, never settling into a smooth rhythm. This is very much how I experienced him yesterday. He’s making good on my judgment, poor taste or not, and I’ll ride this wave until we crash. A rush of endorphins has me crossing my eyes. This is too much, yet I need more.
He grabs the collar of my tee, twisting the material in his fist. The cotton doesn’t stand a chance against his brute strength. With a single yank, the shirt shreds and rips down the middle.
The sound I make is pure outrage. “You ruined—”
“My shirt,” he finishes for me.
I gape down at the ruined garment to discover he’s right. Dammit. “Guess you’re driving home without a shirt.”
His teeth clamp onto the cap of my shoulder. “You’ll be more bothered by that than me.”
A scoff parts my lips. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
“Just the facts, Kee.”
I don’t get the opportunity to lash out because he strikes that secret spot buried deep. With a wail, I drag my nails down his arms. We sure as hell can be equal in this barbaric act.
“Stubborn woman. Just admit you love this.” He punctuates his meaning with a harsh grind into me.
I suffocate the moan attempting to crawl out of me. “Never again.”
“Should I stop?” He glides into me with a harsh upward jab. There’s no trapping my whimper. “No?”
My body is currently ruling above all else and refuses to let a slew of lies loose. I settle for, “Just finish the job.”
And he does.
Crawford doubles his efforts, hammering into me with abandon. Static fizzles in my ears as everything except him fades away. The grand finale arrives with an roar I can’t contain. My orgasm is fast and ruthless, shutting down all normal functioning. A wave of heat washes over me, bathing me in flames. I don’t bother silencing a scream as my skin prickles. A booming blast of fireworks explodes in my vision. With my next labored breath, a sea of black whisks me away.
When the tremors ease and I regain sensation in my limbs, reality crashes down. I wiggle my hips in a silent signal for him to put me down. Immediately.
Crawford drops me to my feet and backs away, zipping up as he goes. “You’re welcome.”
His mood is foul. Too bad mine is beyond rotten. “I can’t imagine what for.”
“The farewell fuck.”
I’m about to burst a capillary from glaring so hard. “Yeah? Well, fuck you right back.”
“Too late. You already did.” His voice is devoid of emotion. I do my best not to shiver.
“I’ll consider myself lucky if we never see each
other again.”
He pauses his hasty retreat to throw me another wink. “I couldn’t agree more, wildcat. But, unfortunately for you, luck has never been on my side.”
Healing Hug #12: To stop the cracks from splintering.
I pull up along the curb in front of a modest rambler. Getting the fuck out of Silo Springs, at every opportunity, has been necessary for what little sanity I have left. Once I kill the engine, the silence is so complete it feels like a cocoon. For a brief moment, nothing is chasing me. The infinite loop of provocative images, and the corresponding catastrophe of errors, aren’t pounding into my skull. But the reprieve smashes apart with a pair of furious green eyes, luscious curves on full display, and tangles of blonde hair wrapping around my fist. A breeze picks up, delivering hints of coconut and fresh flowers. There’s no doubt the scent of tropical paradise is in my imagination, for an added dose of torture.
The mess with Keegan has been plaguing me this entire week. The only upside is I naturally avoid town, so the risk of running into her is slim. The war between my mind and body gains momentum with each passing second. There are several undeniable traits about her that create this internal feud. I find myself wanting another altercation with the snarky wildcat. A shaky vision alone is enough to spike my need, shooting too much heat below the belt. I shift in the seat as denim strains over my persistent arousal. The clinging desperation is ripping me in half. I haven’t been that hard since discovering porn during puberty. Maybe that makes me fucked up. I’ve never claimed to be normal, though.
These are the moments I almost regret not having any true friends. One-sided conversations with Patch aren’t productive, or very comforting. Nothing screams reclusive loser quite like talking to a dog about a woman. Being blackout wasted with a drinking buddy would come in handy right about now. I’m sure Decker or Grady would have some decent advice to pass along, especially over a bottle of Johnny Walker.