Arrogant Bastard

by Jennifer Dawson

  He tosses it on to my stomach and with hooded eyes, looks down at me. “Put it on.”

  With shaking fingers, I manage to rip open the package. Just as I’m about to put it on him, I gaze at his cock. It’s perfect, he’s perfect, and the urge to taste him on my tongue overtakes me.

  I shift, turn, and lift, licking him before he can stop me.

  He groans, and his hands come to tangle in my hair.

  Encouraged, I slide the tip into my mouth, working my tongue down his length.

  A guttural sound emerges from his throat. “Good girl.”

  I experience a surge of pride at his approval that I don’t want to think too much about. But I double my efforts, taking him as far into my mouth as I can before pulling back out again.

  “Fuck.” His fingers tighten in my hair. “So good, Catarina. You’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

  In answer I slide back down, taking him deeper and deeper until I gag and pull back up.

  “Pretty soon you’re going to learn how to push past that reflex, and I’m going to come down your tight throat.” He fists my hair and pulls, forcing me to release him.

  I look up and he delivers a brutal kiss that actually curls my toes and has me straining to meet him.

  He releases my lips and whispers, “But right now I want to fuck you.”

  “Yes.”

  “Put on the condom.”

  I lean back and do what I’m told, sliding the latex down his shaft.

  I glance up at him, and kneeling like I am, I must look like an eager puppy. The visual should stop me cold, but I can’t work up the energy to care. All my energy is expended in wanting him.

  He smiles and pushes me backward.

  Spreading my thighs wide, he plays over my clit before he grips my legs and pushes slowly inside.

  He stretches me, inch by inch. Pulling out before surging back.

  Shallow and then deep.

  Stilling as my body accommodates him.

  And when he’s finally inside me, I grip his arm and pull him down, so grateful he doesn’t fight me. When his chest brushes my over sensitive breasts, I let out a soft moan.

  My head falls back and I say, “Yes, this is what I want, your skin on mine.”

  “Yes.” He covers me, whispering in my ear. “Your skin on mine. My cock inside you.”

  “Yes,” I whisper against his cheek. “I’ve been wanting it so long.”

  “Me too, baby.” He bites my neck, sucking the flesh where my pulse is pounding away.

  “I like that.” Confession feels right in this moment. It’s been a long time since I felt vulnerable, when I wasn’t protecting myself and deflecting. I want to let it all go, so I do it again—admit what I like. “Almost as much as when you call me Catarina.”

  He shifts his hips, circling—grinding against me in a slow, torturous rhythm. “Your cunt is so tight.”

  I gasp at his next pass, surging to meet him. I grip his hips with my thighs, digging my nails into his skin. “You’re so good.”

  He nips my jawline. “We’re so good.”

  “I want more.”

  “You want to come.”

  “Yes.”

  “Greedy girl.” He kisses me. “I like it.”

  Then he begins to move in earnest. He pulls out and slams back in, over and over and finally, at long last, what I’ve been searching for, wanting from him overtakes me.

  We’re joined.

  Moving together.

  The bed protesting under us.

  Our breaths, harsh and panting, filling the air.

  His cock demanding and relentless.

  I finally feel claimed. Taken. Possessed by him.

  Consumed.

  He thrusts inside me, high.

  I meet him.

  My hips jerking up.

  Harder.

  Faster.

  Deeper.

  And just like that, I tip over the edge.

  The orgasm screams through me, wracking my body, quaking me to the core in its force. I bite my lip to keep the feral sounds in my throat, but they won’t be contained as pleasure crashes through me.

  It’s powerful and life affirming.

  I cry out.

  He picks up his pace, following me into oblivion, my name tumbling from his lips as he spills into me.

  When it’s over, he collapses on top of me before rolling over and taking me with him, so I’m splayed on top of him, somehow still joined.

  We’re damp with sweat, the room is humid with sex and spent desire, and I feel more boneless than I’ve ever felt in my life.

  My cheek against his chest, his breathing a ragged rush in my ear. I can’t remember the last time I felt so right, so exactly in the place I’m supposed to be, and I don’t want to lose it. Not now. Not ever.

  I manage to say, “Wow.”

  He laughs, stroking a hand down my spine. “Definitely wow.”

  My fingers dance over his stomach, soaking in the fact that I can touch him. “It was worth the wait.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.” He sounds sleepy.

  My lashes drift closed. “I feel like I should say something profound.”

  His hand drifts down my back, stroking over my skin. “How about, we’re fucked?”

  My body is growing heavy, and the rhythmic movements of his palm over my skin are hypnotic. “Sounds about right.”

  And then I let oblivion take me.

  19

  Caden

  When I wake the next morning, Cat is gone, the sheets she’d burned up cool. Eyes gritty with lack of sleep, I roll over on my back and blink at the ceiling.

  It’s done now.

  Of course it was going to happen. I’d given in to the inevitability of it. But now that irrevocable step has been taken, and there’s no going back.

  I don’t regret the night with her, because it was everything I thought it’d be and more. But I have a pit in my stomach I can’t quite ignore—a sense that I need to look over my shoulder and see what’s chasing me.

  I pinch the bridge of my nose and shake my head.

  I’m being paranoid.

  Everything is going to be okay.

  I grit my teeth, ignoring the self-destructive tick-tock in my chest. I sit up, plant my feet on the floor, and scrub a hand over my hair.

  I just need to see Cat.

  Once I lay eyes on her, this sense of panic will dissipate, like it always does.

  I glance at the clock as I stand and head to the shower.

  As soon as I see her, with that hair tied back in a messy bun and those silver eyes, she always feels like a good idea.

  Thirty minutes later, I find her in her office, head bent over a stack of papers, pen in hand.

  I watch her for a minute.

  She’s intent on her work, immersed in whatever she’s doing and doesn’t seem to notice me. The window behind her bathes her in light, the strands of gold in her hair glowing in the sunshine. Head bent, the curve of her neck is exposed. I kissed that spot last night, sunk my teeth into her soft flesh, but it appears I didn’t leave a mark. Which seems like a real shame in the light of day.

  I’ll have to rectify that.

  I think of her straining under me last night, all the dirty things I did to her that she loved. The way she came, the sound of my name falling mindlessly from her lips. It had been beautiful watching her lose control, surrendering to me as we blasted through the walls we’d built as protection, until they crumpled in a heap of sweat and pleasure.

  I let my gaze sweep over her again, soaking her in, before I say, “You were gone when I got up.”

  My breath catches in my chest, and my stomach squeezes. Inexplicably, my heart starts a rapid, thumping beat. The panic I’ve been holding at bay seizes me, and in the time it takes for her to raise her head, I question every decision I’ve ever made.

  But then her eyes meet mine, and a wide, gorgeous smile beams across her face.

  “Well, good morning.
” Her voice is rich and warm and inviting.

  Everything inside me relaxes, and that dread melts away.

  I smile back at her. “Good to see you’re not regretting coming for me last night.”

  She cocks a brow. “Should I be?”

  “Nope.” I take her in. “Not even a little bit.”

  “Good, ’cause I’m not.” She shifts in her chair before propping her feet on the desk. She’s wearing a powder blue tank top, jean shorts, and a pair of cowboy boots. Her hair is in the messy bun I’ve been envisioning, and it makes me smile. Her face, free from all traces of makeup, practically glows. “In fact, I feel pretty kick ass this morning.”

  I’ve never wanted her more.

  All my unease is gone, replaced by a happiness I only seem to experience when she’s around. I straighten, step into her office, and close the door behind me, flicking the lock. “Is that so?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Everything about her has loosened, and satisfaction settles deep in my sternum because I’m the cause of it. I finally fucked all the tension out of her, and I’m not going to lie, it fills me with a kind of arrogant pride.

  I walk over to her.

  She swivels in her chair, her eyes more mischievous than I’ve ever seen them. I was right to wait for her to come to me. I knew I was, but I like confirmation.

  I lean down and put my hands on the arms of her chair. “You know how you want me to be overcome with passion and take you like you’re my own personal toy to use at my disposal?”

  A smile flickers across her features. “I don’t think I remember saying that.”

  I shrug. “I’m just being more direct about it.”

  “I see. Well, then, yes, I do recall that.”

  I pick her up in one swoop and plop her on the desk, right on top of all her papers. “Today’s your lucky day.”

  She fists her hands into my shirt and tugs me close. “Excellent.”

  I wrap my hand around her neck and lean in to kiss her, but stop short.

  She blinks those molten eyes at me.

  Before I deliver, I find I need to say something. I brush my thumb over her lower lip. “You’re so beautiful.”

  There’s a slight shake of her head, but she says nothing as her thighs squeeze around me.

  “Yes.” I tighten my hold on the nape of her neck. “Fucking gorgeous.”

  Her arms snake around me, everything about her soft and open. “Thank you.”

  Something tickles at the back of my throat, wanting to be exposed, revealed to this unexpected woman. My gaze flickers over her face. “I didn’t like that you were gone.”

  She bites her lower lip. “I had things I needed to take care of for tonight.”

  “I understand.” I brush my mouth over hers. “But I still didn’t like it. I wanted to feel your skin.”

  Her expression flickers. “I would have stayed if I could.”

  “I know.” I put my arm around her waist and pull her closer. I’m not a man that articulates feelings. I’m not even sure the last time I had any, and now that I want to say something significant, I struggle for the words. “You don’t make me feel like anyone else does.”

  Her brow furrows, because of course I’ve made a mess of it.

  I try again. “My whole life, no matter how smooth things were sailing along, I felt restless. But when I’m with you, I don’t feel that.”

  Her eyes get bright, like she might cry. Although I can’t imagine why she would, considering how clumsy I made it.

  But instead of crying, she wraps her legs around me. “Come here.”

  And I do.

  Cat

  * * *

  I laugh, throwing my head back and letting the sound reverberate through me. We’re all at a large table at the restaurant. The lights are low, soft music pipes through discreetly placed speakers, and everyone is having a fantastic time.

  Every plate Jackson and Gwen have put in front of us has been like a bite of heaven, and I’m in a happy, floaty place. My stomach is pleased, the wine has flowed, and my muscles feel like Jell-O.

  But the best thing about the night is Caden next to me—his hand on my leg, his fingers brushing over my thighs as we’ve talked and laughed. It almost feels like we’re a real couple, our heads bent close as he whispers something in my ear. We’re all relaxed and loose, and a feeling so foreign to me I almost can’t name it settles deep into my bones.

  I’m…carefree.

  Like I don’t have a worry in the world.

  It’s been so long, I’ve forgotten what it felt like. But now that it’s upon me, I find I’m hungry for it.

  I want to kick off my shoes and slow dance on the table.

  To run outside and feel the warm air on my skin.

  I want to skinny dip in a moonlit pool and have sex on the grass.

  I want everything I’ve been denying myself.

  But most of all, I want to bottle up this feeling so I can remind myself over and over again why it feels so good. So I don’t forget again.

  Caden’s fingers slide up my spine and wrap around the nape of my neck. His lips brush the shell of my ear. “I love the way you look right now.”

  I turn toward him, my lashes fluttering. “And how do I look?”

  His fingers brush the curve of my shoulder. “Like you’ve been well fucked.”

  I giggle, pushing at him gently. “So this is really about you, not me.”

  “You didn’t let me finish.” His attention moves to my mouth.

  “By all means, continue.” I wave my hand.

  “You’re beaming. Your eyes are bright, your cheeks rosy.” He nuzzles my neck. “And best of all, you have no tension at all right now.”

  We never made an agreement, never spoke about it, but we’re not hiding what’s happened between us, and I like it. It makes me feel like… I don’t know…like I belong somehow.

  Like I’ve clicked into a place that feels like home.

  I’m not sure how he’s managed it—to fill a space I hadn’t even known was empty—but he has.

  I brush my mouth over his. “I want to drive out to the lake after this and swim naked.”

  He chuckles. “Oh yeah?”

  I nod. “Yeah.”

  “What about gators?”

  I shrug. “I want to live dangerously.”

  “I like it.”

  There’s the sound of metal clinking against glass, and I turn to see Gwen and Jackson at the end of the table, wine goblets raised.

  Gwen smiles. “I want to thank you all for coming and helping us run through the menu before the private event. Your support and honest feedback have been invaluable to us, and we can’t ever repay you. If you’re at this table tonight, it’s because you’re important to us, and we love you, and I’m so happy you’re here. I know it’s late, so not tonight, but tomorrow, we’d like to sit down with each one of you individually and go over all the dishes—what you loved, what was okay, what you hated.”

  Payton shakes her head and yells, “You know everything was fantastic.”

  It was. I can’t think of a bad thing to say. They are both so good at this. Their passion shows in everything they touch. And even though here seems like the worst place to have a restaurant, I’m positive people will come from all over the country just for a chance to eat.

  Gwen chuckles and shrugs. “You have no idea how many fights Jackson and I had to get to this point, and it’s safe to say we are the most stubborn, hard-headed people on the planet.”

  There’s laughter around the table.

  Gwen continues. “Which is why you can be assured that the only things on the menu are things we both feel passionate about. But that doesn’t mean we don’t want feedback. So if you have anything horrible to say, we want to hear it.”

  Servers come into the room and start putting small plates of pasta with a large scallop on top in front of us.

  Gwen waves her hands. “Time for more eating.”

  “Wait. I have
something to say.” Jackson puts his hand on Gwen’s hip.

  This surprises me. Jackson isn’t one for speeches, so I’m curious.

  He gestures toward the plates. “I made this for Gwen when I was desperately trying and failing to win her back. It didn’t do the trick, but she still ate every bite.”

  “I did.” She laughs.

  He tugs her close, kissing the top of her head. “Before we continue, every person in this room needs to hear me say this.”

  Gwen tilts her head to look at him.

  He brushes his mouth over hers. “Someone was looking out for Natalie and me the day you walked into our lives, because no matter how hard I tried to ruin it, we kept getting pulled back together.”

  My chest grows tight, filling with emotion and happiness. Those were dark times, and Jackson was a broody asshole, but he was my brother, and I hated how much he hurt. I’m so glad it worked out for him.

  He puts his hand on her cheek. “You are the best thing that ever happened to Nat and me. I couldn’t ask for a better business partner or mother for my child, and I sure as hell don’t deserve you as a wife. But I love you and will work to make you happy every day of my life. Thank you, Gwyneth—for putting up with me when I’m impossible, for making me a better man, but most of all for being you.”

  Gwen blinks away the swell of tears and hits him on the shoulder. “How dare you make me cry.”

  He hugs her, kisses her, and raises his glass. “Cheers.”

  I clink my glass with Caden’s, look into his eyes, and a fantasy springs to life. A foolish one, but I can’t help it. It blooms like a time-lapsed flower in my mind, opening and expanding and taking over rational thought.

  Maybe that could be us someday.

  Happy and in love.

  I’m almost there. I can almost reach out and touch it.

  I want it.

  To feel wrapped up and secure, safe in the knowledge that I’m in this life together with someone. Logically, I know Caden is a dangerous man to have those thoughts about, but as I said before…

  Tonight, I live dangerously.

  20