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“Have fun, girls! Break some hearts, not the law.”
I can’t help but grin as I watch her. She looks as far away from Seattle as possible right now, with three glasses of sangria under her non-existent belt, and Morgan Wallen on the sound system.
The scent of strawberries and fresh clean shampoo washes over me. “Be a good boy and send us another one of those on the house pitchers. okay, darlin’?” She pats a perfectly manicured hand on my cheek and it sends an unexpected current straight to my dick.
She’s looking like a whirlwind of things right now but the two that stand out the most are really fucking beautiful and really fucking off limits.
“Sorry, baby, but I know my time is limited and I want to know—no, I need—to know you’re happy. You’re the most important thing in the world to me. I worry you’re not getting what you deserve, which is all the happiness your heart can hold.”
“Just don’t settle, baby. Find a man that will move heaven and earth for you. A man that knows your worth. You should be his entire heart, always.”
A tattered cowboy hat, jeans and tack on the grass tells me he’s here helping Wade with the horses this morning. “She’ll have to call you back, buddy,” he bites out, and then he hangs up the phone on Andrew. Goddamn, cowboy Nash is fucking hot.
Drunk CeCe was my long lost best friend and when the bar closed, she hugged me goodbye, those waves trailing down my arms. The strawberry scent of her hair hung onto my clothes until I got home, where I proceeded to remind myself I really need to get laid if I’m thinking about CeCe like this.
How good she looks is just a bonus that I’m sure Wade or Cole would squarely punch me in the dick for just noticing.
I move across the room, scooping her body up into a hug without thinking. What I’m not prepared for is my body’s reaction to hers. CeCe melts into me like I have the perfect place carved out just for her. That sweet strawberry scent fills my nostrils and I breathe it in as her tiny palms against my chest cause the hairs on the back of my neck to rise.
Papa Dean sets down his guitar and shrugs. “She said she wants to help me work on my fingering. She said I work a tight finger and I need to loosen it up.” Wade snickers and Cole breaks out in a grin.
Dean just smirks like the old shit disturber he is, knowing exactly what all of this sounds like and adds, “Did you boys know if you finger the A just right, it produces a higher note?” “Dad!” Mama Jo belts out at him, swatting him with a dish towel as the three of us boys double over.
My depraved pussy doesn’t stand a chance. She’s a whore for a backward baseball hat—especially on this devastating looking hockey star turned part-time cowboy.
I thought Nash, the ice hockey player was hot? He doesn’t hold a candle to Nash, the part-time cowboy.
Nash looks at me as he takes the straw between his plush lips. I wish I was the straw.
“Touch her again and I’ll fucking bury you.” Nash’s voice sends a shiver up my spine.
“Who the fuck am I?” he repeats, louder this time. “I’m Nash fucking Carter and I’m about to spill every one of your teeth onto this sidewalk if you call CeCe your fiancée again.”
Drew, take a look at my face. Memorize it. There will never be a day you see CeCe without me beside her again. Now, if you want to walk away in one piece tonight, you’re going to apologize.”
“I took her home because the whole time I was with her, all I could fucking think about was you.” I say nothing, I just breathe in tiny uneven breaths. His Adam’s apple bobs as he restrains himself, still gripping my wrists, and his spicy sandalwood scent warms me. “Do you have any fucking idea how hard it is to see your face no matter who I’m looking at?”
“Fuck it—” he growls as his hands grip my face and he presses his lips to mine. He pulls back after a few seconds and stares at me, almost in disbelief, before the flood gates open and his mouth is crashing down on mine.
“Will I be the first man to have you come on his tongue too?” “Y-yes,” she stammers, and I grin wide. I fucking love it and I want to give it all to her. “Such a fucking crime,” I say as I center myself between her legs.
Then she jolts right up on the bed, sober as fuck in one second flat. “No…uh-uh, you are going to wreck me.” She’s shaking her head as she speaks. “You won’t fit that battering ram inside me.”
Dying a slow death from the feeling of CeCe Ashby wrapped around my cock. Death by perfect pussy. Someone better write it on my headstone.
“Yes.” I look up at him and he’s smirking at me with the world’s most satisfied look on his face. “Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask. “Is it because you just fucked me into a dizzy stupor with your ginormous dick?”
“That’s it, open up for me like a good girl, this pussy was made to take all of me.”
Not to mention, her brothers will probably try to beat the shit out of me like a WWE tag team for this.
CeCe blushes as she takes a mug from me. She is wearing her little silk pajama shorts and a worn, oversized Dallas Stars hoodie. “Nice,” I say, chuckling at the choice. “I felt it was only fitting, and you haven’t seen the best part.” She smiles and takes her coffee to the table, hiking a thumb to her back. CARTER 10. I drop to the chair across from her to absorb the way she looks with my name and number on her back. Damn, she looks like mine.
I definitely did ride a cowboy—a part-time one, at least—and there’s no sense in trying to hide it, my girls clearly already know.
Ginger has been telling me to save a horse, ride a cowboy for years, She’d probably be proud. I’m not a cowboy. RAE I think a part-time cowboy counts.
I start typing several different things before deleting them. I had fun last night. Lame. That was the most incredible sex I’ve ever had. Even more lame. You look so beautiful in the morning. Sappy, rom-com actor lame.
Apologies to your pussy. I will grovel before her with Danishes and croissants. RAE She says thank you, that’s a start, and hurry up, I’m hungry. I’ll be at the office by nine.
I turn my fuzzy gaze back to the bar Olivia pulls me toward and my eyes meet Nash’s glare from across the room. The look he’s wearing could set fire to the bar and burn it down around us.
If Brent Wilson puts his hands on her one more time, I’m going to snap his neck right in the middle of the bar.
Just as I see that mother fucker touch her again, I lock eyes with Olivia and she knows I’m fucking pissed. I start to walk over but I see Olivia pull CeCe away from handsy so I stop and let them come to me. Logically, I know I have no claim on CeCe. I have no right to be mad but I am fucking mad, and right now, I don’t give a fuck who knows it.
I keep my voice calm and even because hiding rage is something I am really fucking good at when I need to be. “Cecilia Rae, I never want to see another man’s hands on your body again,” I say as I lean in and allow myself to kiss her once on the neck.
But two things are certain. I’m not leaving her alone for even one more second tonight and two, she’s going to fucking pay for this torture she’s putting me through.
“And if you think for one second that you’re in here in this fucking dress, and I’m looking at anyone else, you’ve lost your damn mind.” I look back at her and my gaze meets her wide eyes.
“There is nothing I want to do more right now than fuck you so hard, for so long that you’ll know, without a doubt, that the only woman I’m looking at is you.
“Are you jealous, CeCe Ashby?” I chuckle at this realization as I cruise through the dark countryside. “No,” she answers quickly. “Just because I wanted to pull her cowboy hat back and strangle her with the stampede strings doesn’t mean I’m jealous. I’m not the jealous type. I’m actually the unjealous type,” she rambles.
I look down at her in my arms in this light, and feel that twisting feeling in my chest again. Fuck the stars, there’s nothing more beautiful than her.
I speak slowly and refrained. “You came into the bar tonight in that dress, and you’ve been beside me all this time tonight and you aren’t wearing any panties?” My voice is a different octave as I try to control myself.
“You don’t own me, Nash,” she says in the sexiest fucking voice as she moves toward me then straddles me,
“No, baby, I don’t own you. You own me. Now, fuck me like you do.”
I love this woman. I love this woman like I’ve never loved anyone or anything. I love her more than the sun on my face rising over the mountain, the feel of fresh ice under my skates, or hoisting that cup over my head. I love my little firefly like I have no other option, and the truth is maybe I never have.
had one fucking shot to prove I was worthy of CeCe and I let her down—my fear and panic crippled me. Not fighting for her when I had the chance and telling her she’s become my whole fucking world was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made.
“We’re not a phase. We’re the exact opposite of a phase. You’re my always. I fucking love you more than I’ve ever loved anything in this life and I came here to make sure you knew it. Following you across the country is nothing. I’m going to follow you everywhere you go for the rest of this life. And then, I’m going to follow you into the next.”
“I don’t need any time, little firefly. I want it all. I want the birthdays, the babies, the holidays, the lazy Sunday mornings making pancakes for our kids. I want to be their hockey coach, fish with them in the creek, and I want to complain when you ask me to clean out the garage and fix the leaky faucet. I want to sit on the porch with you and drink coffee every fucking morning. CeCe, I want a life with you. One I’m fucking terrified to lose.”
“Get me out of this rain, Mr. Carter,” I whisper into his lips as he grins. “I love you, my little firefly, my little ray of sun.” His thumb traces my cheek as I kiss him,
Nash groans, a deep rumble from his chest as he watches me. “I can tell you mean it, baby,” I say. “You’re mine and I’m yours. We’re a team, right?” Nash nods. “Fuck, yes.”
“Crawl to me, baby,” I whisper, my voice raspy and sweet. Nash doesn’t even consider what I ask for more than one second. His knees hit the floor with a thud, he discards his shirt and begins moving toward me.
