Page 118 of California Wild

“You feel that?” he snarled against her throat. “You feel how tight you are? How you melt for me?”

Her body trembled, her moans turning breathless, frantic. She was close—he could feel it in the way her thighs tensed, in the way her breath hitched with every grind of her hips.

He grabbed her ass, held her steady, and slammed into her, again and again, chasing that high like it was the only thing keeping him alive.

“Let go for me,” he whispered, voice broken. “Come on, Hayley. Give it to me.”

And she did.

Her whole body arched, back bowing, a scream tearing from her throat as she shattered around him, her walls clenching, pulsing, dragging him under with her.

Jesse followed with a strangled curse, his release hitting him so hard he saw white, his body jerking beneath hers as he spilled into her, heart hammering out of his chest.

For a long moment, there was nothing. Just her, breathing hard, her body trembling on top of his, their skin slick with sweat, their hearts pounding like war drums.

He wrapped his arms around her and didn’t let go.

Pressed his lips to her shoulder, then her temple, then that spot just beneath her jaw where her pulse still raced.

She sighed, melted into his chest, her fingers tracing slow circles on his ribs.

And Jesse closed his eyes.

Held her tighter.

Because if there was one thing in this fucked-up life he was sure of, it was this.

Chapter 18

Jesse leaned against the kitchen counter, slicing into a perfectly seared steak. Garlic butter sizzled in the pan behind him, the scent thick and comforting, curling through the air like something from a life he’d never imagined having.

The overhead light bathed everything in gold, softening the edges of the kitchen, casting warm shadows across the curve of Hayley’s cheekbone as she sat at the table, quiet, her fingers tracing lazy circles around the rim of her mug.

She hadn’t said much since her shower. Still a little dazed, probably. And maybe that was good, because Jesse hadn’t known how to explain the way his chest kept pulling tight just looking at her. The mess of auburn hair, the oversized tee he’d thrown at her—his old tour shirt, soft from years of wear. She looked like she belonged here. Like she had been here. Like she’d never left.

His phone buzzed on the counter.

Jesse glanced at it.

Isaac.

A single text:

Yo. Still on for tonight?

He smirked to himself, then reached for the cutting board, slicing the steak into clean, even pieces. The motion was grounding—something solid. Something easy.

From the table, Hayley looked up. “Isaac?”

“Yeah.” He plated a generous serving for her, then handed her a fork without looking, like it was second nature. “Probably wondering if we’re showing up.”

She took the fork, eyebrows raised. “Do you want to?”

Jesse shrugged. “I see those guys all the time.” He set the plate down in front of her, then leaned against the edge of the counter again. “I’m good right here.”

He didn’t say it to impress her. It wasn’t performative. It was just the truth. The stillness of her in his space, the low hum of a summer evening rolling in outside the windows—this was the thing he never thought he’d get. Peace. Her. Both.

But when he looked back at her, something in her eyes gave him pause. Not doubt. Just… thought.

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