Page 14 of Filthy Rich

It’s true that I’ve gotten bad at taking what I want without regard for those around me. That said, I don’t take things I don’t have good plans for, and I certainly don’t take things I don’t intend to work on and cherish.

Though, until now, what I want has never been a woman. Sure, there have been times when I was so horny I needed a warm body, or so lonely I needed to talk to random women online, but this… this need, this desire I have for Trish, is more than all of that.

She’s more than a warm body. She’s an inferno. She’s more than a random conversation. She’s every voice I want to hear for the rest of my life. So, while walking away might seem like the right thing to do, I’m not denying that I’m a selfish, unapologetic man.

I’m a man who’s going to get what he wants… one way or another.

Trish swings open the door and stares at me, her lips spread slightly, her hair a disheveled mess, her eyes puffy like she’s been crying. I hate that she’s been crying.

Fuck, I need her. I need to hold her. I need to make her feel good. I need to keep her.

“What are you doing?” Her tone is soft and sweet, almost like she might be glad I’m here. “You should go.”

“I should,” I step inside her cabin, my eyes never leaving her dark brown gaze, “and I’d love to ask permission for what I’m about to do next, but I think maybe I’ll ask forgiveness instead.”

She crosses her arms over her chest and shakes her head. “Wow. You really are entitled, aren’t you? What are you doing, Christopher?”

“I’m taking what I want.”

“Oh my God. I thought I was being dramatic calling you arrogant, but this is exactly what I’m talking about. You really can’t be told no, can you?”

“Guess not.” I back her up against the wall of the cabin, my hand above her head, the other resting on her throat. She could kick, scream, knee me in the balls, even tell me to leave again if she wanted to, but she doesn’t. Instead, her chest rises and falls faster and faster, and soon I feel her pulse speeding against my palm. I lean in slowly, breathing in the lavender on her skin and the chocolate still on her lips. “If you don’t want me to do the ski resort, I’ll cancel it all. You are the last person I want to piss off.”

“What are you talking about? You hate failed business plans. It’s your biggest fear.”

“No.” My hand lands on her chin and I direct her gaze up toward mine. “Losing you is my biggest fear. That’s why I came and offered you the money. That’s why I couldn’t drive away tonight. Something happened between us at the ranch, Trish. You can keep denying it, but we both know it’s real.”

“Why do feelings matter? This would never work. I don’t want to wake up in ten years with some guy who’s bitching about how to fold the laundry.”

“The laundry?”

“Yeah, I’ve dated guys like you. Arrogant, and right about everything. They stomp all over your boundaries and they leave you feeling inferior and pointless.” She glances away then backagain. “Christopher, you’re a nice guy. A very hot, nice guy, but I’m a grown woman. I need to choose better for myself. I can’t get sucked into a relationship that’s going to end in two years because you get bored, or when I get annoyed with something I knew was going to be too much on day one. If you need to get laid, you can just say so. I do too. We don’t have to complicate it with feelings.”

I stare at her, my thumb resting on her pulse, her chest rising and falling, a strand of her hair slipping off the back of my hand.She’s so perfect.“Yeah, I want to fuck you. I want to fuck you until you’re sore and you can’t remember your name. Then, I want to hold you and never let you get away. We’ll compromise, kitten. We’ll talk things through, and we’ll make it work. And laundry, fuck the laundry. We can pay someone to do that.”

Her breathing increases and the stare between us gets stronger as an invisible force pushes us together, and all at once her hands are on my back, her lips are on mine, and the permission I’d been waiting for is right there in front of me, ready for the taking.

Chapter Seven

Trish

I can honestly say I’ve never needed anything more. His hands are big and warm, calloused by hard work and time. His breath is hot and heavy on my neck, and his voice is deep and raspy as he growls out in relief. It’s either that or excitement. Either way, his sounds soak me.

I’ve never needed anything so badly. He could have knocked the door off the hinges and demanded I spread my legs, and I’d have said yes with a smile despite the fact that nothing feels settled. There are a million questions I have about how life works with him, but for some reason, in this moment, none of that matters. We’re falling hard and fast. We’re two people who can’t keep our hands off each other, and maybe for once in my damn life, I should enjoy the moment instead of ruining it with reason.

“Get on your knees, kitten. Suck my cock like a good girl.”

Tingling excitement rushes up my spine and down again as I bend to my knees and stare up at the man in front of me, desperate to feel his thick cock in my throat, desperate to hear him growl as I suck him clean, desperate to hear his every demand and release the tension coiled inside of me.

That said, my heart still pounds and skips as I unbuckle his jeans and tug them to the floor. I guess he wants me nude too,because he bends forward and strips my dress off, leaving the chill in the air to tighten my nipples.

A moment later his flannel comes off, and then his t-shirt. It’s easy for him, he’s perfect. Tall and lean, strong and muscular, every hair perfectly placed.

I try not to let the differences in our body affect me, but it’s hard. I want him to like what he sees. I want him to be into me, but how could he be when he looks like that, and I look like me?

He must sense my breakdown. “Kitten,” his hand lands on the side of my face, “you look so fucking good. I love those heavy tits and that round ass.” He strokes his cock in front of me. “I’ve been thinking of you and that pretty face on my dick for days.”

Why do I believe him? I have trouble trusting people when they tell me the sky is blue, but for some reason when Christopher talks about my body, it sounds like gospel, and suddenly, I’m a woman of faith.

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