Page 28 of Brutal Heir

“I’m on the way.”

Chapter 14

Sage

As I approach the Torres House, my excitement’s building. The sun’s going down in the distance, casting gold, pink, and purple rays across the sky.

A man on a tractor waves as he continues to mow, leaving a clearing that extends for a couple of acres. I wave back and continue along to my destination.

Along the drive leading up to the house, the mesquites and brush have been cleared away. The spacious area has nothing but bright green grass with the edges of the clearing lined with nopal. I can feel the weight of my foot pressing down on the gas pedal as I approach the house, and my heart races with anticipation.

The Torres House is exactly as I imagined it would be: a rustic ranch home sitting amid large, shady trees.

The stones covering the bottom half of the house are a mixof light and dark shades, giving it an earthy, organic feel. They provide a beautiful backdrop for the multitude of rose bushes lining the side and front of the house then disappearing around the corner. They’re in full bloom, the larger flowers bursting with color.

It’s utterly charming, and totally unlike the image I have of big, bad Ezequiel Mata.

I pull up to the house, enjoying the contrast between the rustic charm of the house and the ruggedness of the man himself. This is like stepping into a different world, one far removed from the hustle and bustle of the city I left behind.

I know why I’m here, and I know what he wants from me. But I also know what I want from him. He’ll use me as much as I’ll use him. I have to remember this is nothing more than two people wanting to get off. This is just a fling, a temporary escape from reality.

I reach back and unhook my bra, giving in to a sudden urge to shed all inhibitions. It’s not long before the hooks are free, and I pull the strap down one arm then another. I manage to maneuver out of the thing without too much struggling. Then I toss it in the back seat like I’d discard an unwanted wrapper.

I adjust the girls and take a deep breath before opening the door. The grass extends out behind the house. It’s cut short, likely for safety’s sake. I can’t help but think of what happened earlier, and a shiver runs down my spine. I scan the area, looking for any signs of danger, but everything seems to be in order. I finally feel safe enough to step out of the truck.

The air is thick with the scent of freshly cut grass mixed with the earthy aroma of mesquite, something I’m finally getting used to since I moved to South Texas. I skim the edge of the lawn,reaching the rock -lined sidewalk leading up to the house. The door opens just as I reach the front steps.

“You’re learning,” he says, with a hint of satisfaction as he pushes open the metal screen. Another security measure common in the area.

I suck in a breath at the sight of him. He’s even more rugged and handsome than I remember, his chiseled features and intense gaze taking my breath away. He’s freshly showered, wearing a black-and-blue checkered shirt that hugs his broad chest, and jeans that fit him like a glove.

Why have I never noticed this about him?

I glance down at his feet and see he’s wearing socks. It’s a small detail, but it adds to his charm, making him seem more approachable and slightly less intimidating.

But as I look back up at his face, I see that his attention is focused on my chest. My nipples harden under his scrutiny, and a wave of desire washes over me. The dark promise in his expression sends a flutter of anticipation through me.

He holds the screen door open for me to enter. The safety and security of the door add to my excitement, knowing that we have privacy. We’re practically hidden away from the rest of the world.

I approach him and can’t help feeling like I’m about to walk into the den of a beast. He’s a head taller than me and normally ferocious, so I’d say I’m justified. Though I know what’s about to happen, and I can’t wait to see where this will take us.

As I walk past him, I catch a whiff of his clean scent. I wish I had the opportunity to shower. Instead I show up for a booty call smelling like I’ve been riding around in the truck all day. Andmaybe like he’s been riding me. The evidence of that last part is still on my right butt cheek.

The living area has comfortable-looking, overstuffed furniture and a big screen mounted on the wall.

He shuts the door behind me and, before I can even turn around, he scoops me close, walking me back until I’m pressed against the door. My anticipation turns into surprise at his sudden move, but I’m thrilled by his reaction to me.

The door feels cool and solid behind me, like a reassuring barrier separating us from the outside world. I can feel the heat of his body through his shirt, and I can’t resist running my hands up and down his broad back, reveling in the hard muscles rippling beneath my touch.

He cups my breast through the tank. “You did this for me?” he asks, his lips beside my temple.

The hard tweak on my nipple earns him a gasp as a wave of sensation shoots up to my temples.

“Maybe I did it for me,” I murmur.

His lips find my neck and I tilt my head back, a shiver running down my spine as he nips and sucks at the sensitive skin. It’s a heady feeling to be wanted this much, by a man like him.

He brings the tank up, pulling it over my head to leave my breasts bare to him. He fills his hands, covering me completely, bringing his thumb up from underneath to put pressure on just the right spot. I’m going to end up a puddle at his feet.

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