Page 45 of Unruly

Her eyes narrow. “I’m still technically married on paper. I just got out of something that took everything from me, and I’m not … I don’t want to do it again. Any of it—the dating, the feelings, the whole mess of it. I want to be left alone and figure out who I am without someone else’s idea of me attached to it.”

She crosses her arms tighter. “You deserve that—someone without all of this.” She gestures at herself. “Baggage. History. That’s not what you need.”

I look at her for a long second.

Then, I take two steps forward.

She holds her ground but her chin comes up and I can see her recalculating.

“You came on my face, soaked my hand and the floor, and made a sound I’ve been thinking about since the moment the taste of your cunt left my mouth. And now, you’re standing in my yard, telling me it was a mistake.”

Her cheeks go red. “Cash⁠—”

“Your body doesn’t lie, Halle. I was there. I felt exactly how much of a mistake that was.”

“That’s not … that’s just … a physical response doesn’t mean⁠—”

“You’re right,” I say. “It’s not just physical, though. That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

She opens her mouth, then closes it.

I take the last step—close enough now that she has to tilt her chin up to hold my gaze. I can see the pulse at her throat, and I can smell whatever she’s wearing underneath the morning air.

“Cash.”

“The nice-girl thing. You want to know something? I don’t want a nice girl. I’ve had plenty of nice girls. I want you. Not some idea of what my life is supposed to look like. Not someone easier or less complicated or ten years younger. You. Baggage and history and half-renovated house and all of it.” I take her chin in my hand, leaning down until we’re inches apart. “So you can stop trying to protect me from yourself. I don’t need protecting. I need you to stop running.”

Her breath comes out shaky, and her eyes are doing the green-not-blue thing.

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” she says quietly.

“I know exactly what I’m saying.” I let go of her chin. “I’ve known it for a while. You’re just the last one to catch up.”

“Cash—” Her hands come up to my chest.

“Tell me you don’t want me to come over tonight and make you fall apart on my cock.”

She looks at me.

I hold her gaze and wait.

The silence stretches between us, and only makes the corner of my mouth curl up.

“Thought so,” I say against her lips.

I slide my hand up her thigh, slow, watching her face. Her breath grows unsteady. My fingers brush the inside seam of her cutoffs and she makes a sound low in her throat as she uncrosses her ankles. I slide my hand up further and find the edge of her shorts. She’s already warm and⁠—

Tires hit the gravel drive and the moment is broken. I’m already stepping in front of her, blocking her from sight of anyone coming up the drive—my back to the road. She goes rigid behind me.

“Cash—”

“Don’t move,” I say under my breath.

The truck engines cut, doors open, and boots hit the ground. Then Colt’s voice, loud and completely unbothered, asks, “Cash, who’s the flavor of the week you got hiding over there?”

I close my eyes for exactly one second.

Then, I turn around.