Page 88 of One Last Rodeo

She glares at me. “There was nothing to throw away in the first place. It was just hooking up.”

She storms down the hallway, throws the bathroom door open, and slams it shut so hard the walls rattle. All I can do is followbecause I’m not done chasing Catalina and I’m not sure I’ll ever be willing to quit.

I stop short of breaking the door down, pressing my forehead against the cool wood instead, breathing like I just got thrown from a bull. I’m telling myself not to wreck her parents’ house just to get to her but my frustration’s starting to win. I listen, but there’s no sound behind the door. There’s nothing to tell me she’s as upset over this as I am.

I groan, feeling like my heart’s leaving my chest. “Catalina. Please open the door. Talk to me, Kitty.”

“Go away.”

“No.” My palm flattens against the wood. “Let me in.”

The lock clicks. The door flies open and she grabs me, hauling me inside the bathroom and slamming it shut behind us before locking it again. Her eyes are wilder, bright and furious.

“This is all you wanted from me, right?” she demands.

Her fingers go straight to her burgundy top. She yanks it over her head and tosses it aside, standing there unapologetic and mad. Her nipples are tight and flushed beneath the cream-colored lace bra she’s wearing. I can’t tell if it’s anger, desire, or both feeding each other now.

She snaps her bra open and flings it away, freeing her breasts.

“This is all you saw when you woke up from surgery, wasn’t it?” she says, voice sharp, shaking enough to tell me she’s pissed. “Not my brain. Not my work. Not my skill. This. My body. A pair of nice tits and a big ass who couldn’t possibly be skilled enough to perform your surgery.”

She unzips her white pants and steps out of them slowly, revealing a matching, cream colored thong.

“Well?” She tilts her head. “Come take what you wanted.”

She turns to the mirror, pushes the thong down her hips, and steps out of it, kicking it aside until she’s completely naked.

“Kitty—”

“I said don’t call me that anymore!” she snaps. She meets my gaze in the mirror and it’s harder now. There’s no softness left in her anymore.

“I’m sorry,” I grit out. “I fucked up. After surgery and with Dawson—you’re right. I should’ve shut it down when he dragged me to the training room. I should’ve told the doctor to fuck off. And I shouldn’t have asked you where my doctor was after you had your hands inside my chest.”

She squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head. “Just fuck me and get it over with, Jensen. That’s all we’ve really wanted from each other. We’re not compatible.”

“Don’t say that.”

“You know it’s true. We have nothing in common.”

“I’m not going to fuck you,” I growl out.

“What?” Her laugh is sharp. “Am I not pretty enough now? Not smart enough to be your doctor. Not qualified enough to diagnose your injury, and now I’m not pretty enough to be fucked by you?”

I step up behind her, my hands landing on her hips, gripping hard enough to leave fingerprints. I look at us in the mirror—my body towering over hers, her half-naked and furious beneath me, me wrecked and wanting and so pissed I can’t think straight.

I hate being misunderstood. I’ve learned that feeling is made worse by my dyslexia. But it may be heightened tonight by the fact that I feel like I’m getting this one thing I’ve wanted morethan anything in my life,her,all wrong. She’s not listening to me. She’s so deep in her hurt and pain that no matter what I say, she’s not going to hear it.

“You know damn well that’s not how I feel about you.”

She rolls her ass back against my erection.

“Then do it,” she says. “Prove it and fucking do it.”

I growl, and my palm comes down hard on her ass in a spank. The sound cracks through the bathroom loudly.

She gasps, eyes widening like she can’t believe I just did that.

“Are you finished?” I demand.