Page 61 of Gorgeous

Instead of answering her breathy question, I grind the steel fucking rod in my pants along her stomach. She gasps and I don’t miss the opening.

My mouth descends on her, my tongue sweeping in and silencing any further bullshit remarks she might have made. Her bottom lip rubs against the stubble along my face and I hold her still, palming the back of her head. I suck that pouty bottom lip, savoring the unique taste of Breck. Her free hand goes to my shoulder and squeezes down the side of my arm, gripping my bicep. My dick throbs painfully in my pants, and I can’t get enough, exploring every crevice that makes up the smart-ass mouth of hers.

I taste it all.

Until the front door slams.

I jump back first, pushing her away and scanning the room for any prying eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Breck mumbles out quickly like it was her damn fault. Her eyes dart to the floor as if she is ashamed.

She shouldn’t be.

I’m the one who should be tied up to a tree for a good lashing. This beautifully sweet woman wanted to kiss me and I freaked the fuck out, pushing her away like she was avirus.

I need my ass beat. Hard.

Inhaling, I try calming the fuck down so I can focus on not acting like a dickhead, but it’s too late.

The new Cade buries the protests of the old Cade and I do the right thing by this girl. She deserves better than me. She deserves someone able to love her. Not me, who can’t even love himself.

With a strength I don’t want to use, I meet Breck’s pleading eyes and beg for the last time. “Please let me take you home.”

She doesn’t flip me off like I expect her to. Instead, she makes a small noise and nods. “Okay.” She sighs and gives me a fake smile. “I think it’s time. Give me thirty minutes to pack?”

My Adam’s apple bobs but I stick to my decision. “Sure.”

Her lip quivers and it’s the first time I’ve ever wanted to beat my own ass. She turns and heads up the stairs to her room when Hayes pokes his head around the wall.

It’s hard to tell if he wants to punch me in the face or hold me down for Breck to do it.

Honestly, I would let either of them do it.

I’m a cold-hearted bastard.

It’s been two days since I took her home.

I tried asking Hayes if he’s heard from her, but he’s pissed and won’t tell me if he’s spoken with her. I want to know if she’s okay. I haven’t slept since she left, replaying our kiss over and over. I’m having a nagging sensation I fucked up royally, keeping me from resting more than usual.

Breck wouldn’t even speak on the way to the orchard. She sprang from the passenger side of the truck so fast I couldn’t even open the door for her. With a half-assed wave, she hopped in the bed of the truck and struggled to toss her suitcase to the ground.

I tried to help.

Insisted even.

But she made up some bullshit about me doing too much for her already.

So I stood at my truck like a douche, watching as she dragged her heavy suitcase along the gravel, waving a hand behind her shoulder and then flipping me off as she closed the door behind her.

She was officially done with me.

I should feel happy, but I don’t. I feel like I have the flu.

My head hurts and my body aches. The only bright side to this shit-tastic morning is that Anniston and Theo are coming home. Thank God. I could use a few days to not think. To be told what to do and when. My brain needs something to think about, other than Breck.

“So how did it go with Breck?”

Anniston is snuggled in one of the patio chairs with her legs tucked under her and a cup of decaf coffee, wasting no time getting to the inquisition. After she cried and hugged us all, making sure we were all in one piece, she made a pot of coffee and asked me to join her outside.

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