by Tamara Lush
Not comfortable, like am with Cata.
Cata’s brows furrow when she tries on one pair of shoes, and then another. A smile breaks out on my face while watching her. When I’m around her, it’s like she’s this more evolved and slightly mysterious being from another planet.
“Which do you like? These?” she shows me a black, strappy sandal with a flat heel.
“Or these?” She slips on a higher-heeled shoe.
What am I supposed to say? I’m a guy who owns two suits and a drawer full of track pants and T-shirts. “Umm, those?” I say, pointing at the low sandal, then at the other pair. “Or those? They’re sexy. I guess. I’m not sure.”
I pause and shift the pillow behind me. Shoes are a mystery, and I’d prefer to think about something more concrete, like food. “What do you think about going to Tampa next weekend? I heard there’s a new place to get wings.”
Cata cocks her head. “Wings?”
“Yeah. Chicken wings.” I grin.
“Next weekend?”
“Yeah, next weekend.”
A little smile crosses her face.
“What?” I ask.
“You’re planning into the future.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” God, women are baffling. Of course I am.
Shrugging, she runs a brush through her long hair. “I guess a part of me wondered if this was a weekend fling for you. I don’t get the impression you’ve made future plans with any of those women on Tinder.”
“I’ve never wanted to make future plans with anyone but you. Don’t be so self-conscious.”
She laughs. Her hips sway as she walks into the bathroom.
She's right. I never bothered with asking those girls I met on the dating app if they wanted a future. Because I didn’t feel compatible. Or maybe I was waiting for Cata.
She walks back out and sits on the edge of the bed. I stare at her, smiling goofily. I could stare at her for weeks.
“I do want a future,” I say softly, picking up her hand and kissing her palm.
Everything about her captivates me. It always has. It was like this when we were younger, although back then, she was less feminine. It sounds odd to say that since she was so sexy to me even back then. But when we were teens, she wore jeans and shorts and carried herself like a geeky tomboy, because that’s what she was.
My skin tingles as I think about how I caressed her body throughout the night. Cata’s grown up, all woman. But it’s not her curves that make her more feminine, although I adore those. It’s the details, the things that make her opposite of me. The nail polish and the pretty earrings. Her flower scent and the little dresses that show off her legs. She’s still got her sexy-Goth style, but it’s more sophisticated, sensual. It’s as if before, I had responded to her only in a teenage hormonal frenzy, and now I appreciate her femininity. Worship it, even. The feelings I have for her make me feel surprisingly gooey inside. And protective.
“I’m going to get us coffee. You let me sleep in yesterday, so stay in bed,” she says, sitting on the edge and kissing me.
I run my fingers through her silky hair. “Don’t be long.”
She bounds off the bed and out the door. I wait a moment, then whip the covers off my naked body and fly to the closet. I have about fifteen minutes to open the safe that sits on a shelf, take out my phone, call Sawyer and have him disable Cata’s Gamerhouse email.
If she receives an email with the same photo of her that I did, all hell will break loose. I don’t want the weekend ruined, not after we’ve gotten so close. It’s been the most perfect weekend of my life. Hopefully, I can find out where it came from and put a stop to any further harassment without her ever knowing.
Heart pounding in my ears, I open the huge, walk-in closet door, where the phones are nestled in the safe. My cold fingers press the combination of numbers to unlock the door, then grab my phone and power it up. I stare at her laptop, fighting the urge to open it and check if she’s received the damned email.
I don’t, because the last thing I want is to invade her privacy. I’m not interested in monitoring Cata’s online movements – or her real-life ones, either. I only want for her to avoid the humiliation she’ll feel again if she sees the photo. I want to protect her.
“Dude,” I say when Sawyer picks up. “What did you find out about that email?”
His voice is sleepy. “Nothing, yet. I need more time.”
“Okay, fine. But you need to do me another favor. Don’t ask why, and don’t tell anyone else, okay?”
He groans. I’ve obviously woken him.
“Disable Catalina’s email account. Wipe the whole thing off our system.”
“But-” I hear him groan again, then I hear the soft voice of a woman.
“Do it. Now. I’ll give you an extra shift off.”
“Fine, dude.”
We hang up. Relieved, I brush my teeth and jump in the shower. A few minutes later, the sound of the door clicking shut makes me grin.
“Cata?”
“I got a you a muffin,” she calls out.
“Come here. I have something for you.”
The bathroom door’s open and I hear her sandals slap against on the tile floor. I open the shower door a little and peek out.
“I know you’ve already taken a shower, but…” I wiggle my eyebrow suggestively.
She heel-toes her sandals off and pulls her dress over her head. A few steps later, she’s out of her underwear and bra and under the spray, wriggling her breasts against my chest. I suck in a breath as my hands cup her curves.
“I guess we have to do something while the coffee cools down.” She kisses me, and I’m hungry for her. Again.
I’m more certain than ever that I’m doing the right thing with her emails. The instinct to shield her is fierce, and I’ll do anything to keep her happy. She sinks to her knees, and the wide showerhead sprays us both with rivulets of water.
Oh God, this woman. I would give anything for her.
I groan and cradle the back of her head with my palm.
Her mouth is warm and tight and my mind goes blank when she moves her mouth up and down my shaft, making my orgasm come with a roar, and my voice chases it.
Chapter Twenty-Two
CATALINA
As we walk down the stairs of the private jet at the executive airport in Tampa, I look at Diego. The man who’s ravished me for more than forty-eight hours. The guy who’s made me breathless, made me laugh until I snorted. Made me beg for his touch.
“You’ve ruined me.”
“How?” he grins. The sun is low in the sky, waning with a fire-red orb over the flat Florida landscape. He’s wearing dark sunglasses. The combination of the shades, his black t-shirt, and his dark stubble are devastating.
“I’ll never want to fly commercial again.”
“Oh. I thought maybe you were going to say I’d ruined you for all other men.”
I laugh. “Well, that’s a given.”
The valet pulls around his Porsche SUV, and as Diego’s putting my bags in the trunk, I call out. “Babe, can you grab my phone?”
Diego slams the trunk. “Sorry. Too late. Let’s get going, I don’t feel like searching through everything now.”
“Okay,” I say. No matter. I kind of don’t want to get back to real life, anyway. It’s been really nice unplugging for two days. Although I am curious about the metrics of all the social media posts I’d scheduled over the weekend, especially that Instagram photo series of Sawyer, Liam and Zelda wearing funny hats and playing on the beach. I’d noticed that we were getting a lot of hits from teen girls, the more I posted photos of Liam and Sawyer shirtless.
I’m silent as we cross the bridge over Tampa Bay. Smiling, I take his hand.
“I can’t wait to see Zelda. I want to squeeze that little face.”
“Cata, I was thinking…”
I turn to him. The sunset makes his tanned skin glow. “About?”
“I want to stay at your house tonight.”
“Oh.” I’m taken aback. “I really wanted to see Zelda, though. I hope she’s okay with us being gone. I’ll bet she misses us. ”
“I’m sure she’s fine. We’ll call the guys as soon as we get to your house.”
“Why can’t we stay at your place?” I ask.
He shrugs. “I guess, I dunno, I want the feeling of sleeping in your bed with you. Like we did when your parents went away. There’s something kind of taboo about it. Like we’re sneaking around.”
I laugh. “But Diego, I’m the only one at the house now. We’re not sneaking around on anyone.”
He kisses my hand again. “I know. But indulge my fantasy, okay?”
I lean my head back into the soft leather seat. I can’t argue with that simple request, not when he sounds so sexy.
“Thank you, sweet boy.”
“For what?”
“For everything.”
He kisses my fingers one by one. This kind of affection is exactly what I’ve been missing.
I turn my head to look out the window at the bay. I see a dolphin, skipping along the water’s surface.
I haven't been this happy in forever.
Chapter Twenty-Three
DIEGO
I’m lying on Cata’s bed, furiously texting to both Sawyer and Liam. She’s in the shower, and I want to see if they’ve found anything on the anonymous email account. I have to wrap up this conversation and delete it before she comes back into the bedroom.
What do you mean, you couldn’t find anything out about that email address?
We’re still working on it. Hopefully by tomorrow.
Not the answer I wanted. My thumbs fly over the screen.
Work harder. It’s super fucking important. Did you disable Cata’s account? What about that name I gave you? Anything?
Yeah, I disabled the account. I haven't gotten a chance to look at the politician. The A/C broke in the house and I had to call an emergency repair guy. It was $1,000 BTW.
I roll my eyes and tap.
Fine.
So tell me, what’s going on?
I pause, ready to explain. But then it hits me: what if one of the guys is responsible for this? Could it be Liam or Sawyer?
I feel instantly guilty for even considering them suspects. They’ve never done anything to lead me to believe they would pull an asshole move like this. But at this point, everyone and anyone is fair game. I'd need to think harder about this. Did either of them try to hit on Cata? Are they jealous of my deal to sell Gamerhouse? They never seemed like they were. They always went with the flow, happy to be able to get a paycheck for gaming.
Sometimes, when you think you know people, you really don’t. My own family taught me that. But no, it's got to be that politician in New York. I need to do more research on him.
I’ll tell you later. Gotta run. Be back tomorrow. Staying at Cata’s tonight.
Cata walks in as I’m trashing the conversation. Her hair’s wet, and she’s only wearing a towel. I put the phone on the nightstand and sit on the edge of the bed, instantly attuned to her presence. Instantly wanting her.
“You look like you’re lost in thought. What’s in that brilliant brain of yours?”
How can Cata read my emotions like that? I lie. “Oh, thinking about the deal.”
She hums softly and settles onto my lap. Then lands a sweet, short kiss on my lips. Of course, I was thinking of her and the photos. Not about the deal. Which is crazy because it’s the biggest thing that’s ever happened to me. Other than Cata, of course.
“I was thinking, too,” she said.
“About?”
“Us. You. How you’re going to be a really different person once the Gamerhouse sale goes through.”
I frown. “No. I won’t. What are you talking about?”
“You’ve already got the mansion, the Porsche. I’ll bet you’re going to have offers from startups and big companies in Silicon Valley. You’re out of Florida once this happens.”
She’s right, probably. I'm here because it's the only home I've ever known. I shrug. “And?”
“And you’ll leave me behind.” Her voice is quiet. She puts a hand on my bare chest and strokes my skin with her thumb.
Gathering her wet hair into one hand, I press my mouth into her bare shoulder and shake my head. “I’m not going anywhere without you. The only way I’ll go somewhere alone is if you decide you don’t want to come with me.”
“You say that now, but…” she lets out a breath. “Why would you want me when you’re able to have anyone? You’ll soon be able to date models and smart Silicon Valley women and whatever when this goes through.”
“I don’t want models and whatever. I want you. I want your whatever.” I wrap my arms around her and sink my teeth softly into the skin of her arm.
“Ow,” she giggles.
I kiss where I had bitten. “Did I hurt you?”
She shakes her head. “But why? What do you see in me?”
Normally I might be exasperated by her neediness or make a joke. God knows I used to when we were younger, just a little, to tease. But knowing all she’s been through, knowing that someone is trying to ruin her with the old photos, I tell her how I’m feeling. Which isn’t easy for me.
“I see a woman who makes me laugh,” I say, then touch her lips with my fingers.
“And a woman who makes me think.” I tap her temple.
“And a woman who makes me see life differently.” I trace her eyebrow with my thumb.
She wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me long and deep, offering me her tongue.
“I’m sorry,” she says.
“For what?”
“For staying away from you for six years. I wished we’d been together this whole time. I’m sorry I was angry at you. Sorry I held a grudge.”
I study her face, count the freckles on her nose like I used to. There’s one on the tip and two right above it. A triangle of freckles. “Maybe we needed those years apart to realize what we had.”
She takes my face in her hands and kisses me again, her freshly showered smell caressing me and turning my dick hard. The tuck of the towel around her torso comes undone, and I slide the rough, white fabric off her body.
“God, you smell good,” I say, burying my face along the roundness of her breast. “Strawberries? Blueberries? Cata-berries?”
While she’s laughing, I shift my legs, so she’s on her feet. “Stand up.”
She does, and I twist her around, so her back is to me. With her hips in my hands, I ease her butt onto my lap. “Sit on me.”
I have my legs stretched out in front of me, and I position her so she’s straddling me in reverse, our faces pointing toward the closet near the bed.
“See,” I point to the mirror on the closet door in front of us. “You asked what I see in you. I see the most beautiful girl, woman, I’ve ever known.”
I kiss her neck and run my hands over her breasts, cupping them. “Every part of you fits perfectly with every part of me.”
I watch her reflection in the mirror. She’s becoming excited, I can tell. Her mouth parts and her nipples become hard when I trap them between my fingers. She gasps when I bite her neck.
“Open your legs wider,” I murmur in her ear. She does, and I instantly wish I wasn’t still in my boxer shorts because my erection wants to break free from the constraint. “Now spread yourself wider with your fingers. I want to see all of you.”
Her breathing’s heavier and she does what I ask. My breath is fast, too, because watching her touch herself is making me rock hard. With one hand on her breast, my other hand trails down her stomach and glides over her wet slit.
She gasps as I slowly stroke her.
“Look how beautiful you are,” I whisper. “Look at how fucking sexy you are. Why would I ever want anyone else?”
I grip her breast harder while I continue to circle her with feather-light fingers. She’s moaning now and I can tell she’s close by how wet she’
s getting.
With a growl, I remove my hand from her clit and slide my arm under her knees, hoisting her onto the bed, so her head is on the pillow.
“Diego. Don’t stop now. I was about to come.”
I strip off my boxers. “I’m not stopping. I’m beginning.”
Pushing open her legs with mine, I hoist her hips up with my hands and enter her. I’m on my knees, and I thrust into her. She cries out, and I nearly explode when I see her fingers move to her clit.
“Oh yeah, Cata. You know I love to watch that while I fuck you.”
She gasps and laughs, making a throaty sound. “You know I love to hear you talk like that while you’re…you’re…”
“While I’m fucking you?” I whisper, burying my cock deeper inside of her.
That’s enough to send her over the edge. She closes her eyes and gasps loud, then bites her lip. A few more strokes and I’m right behind with my own release, groaning and crumpling on top of her.
“I love you,” I whisper into her ear.
Chapter Twenty-Four
CATALINA
I crack two eggs into a pan. Pop some wheat bread in the toaster. As I’m pouring coffee, Diego walks into the kitchen and kisses me. He’s freshly showered and smells like my coconut soap. He’s back in his t-shirt-track pants combo but looks no less sexy than when he was wearing a suit in Miami. I kiss his cheek three times and feel his rough stubble against my lips.
“You smell like a piña colada,” I whisper, biting his neck playfully.
We kiss for a bit, standing near the stove. He puts his arms around me. “I could get used to this.”
“What? Breakfast, or me?”
“Both.” He kisses my forehead.
Our weekend in Miami was incredible, but something about being in my parents’ home, playing house for a morning, makes me grin from ear to ear. This is the way were supposed to be.
“Can I help?” he asks, hovering near the coffee maker.