Page 53 of Catch
“Slowly, you goofball.”
“Why don’t you look like you’re dying?” she wheezed, wiping her eyes.
“Because I only had a small sip. I still have to drive us home.”
After a few smaller sips, she finally got the hang of it, but I set my cup aside, content to let my one sip settle. At the rate she was going, I’d definitely end up being more than just her designated driver. Hell, there was a chance she might not even remember the whole evening if I let her keep drinking.
Thankfully, after finishing her cup, she set it down and climbed into my lap. I wrapped my arms around her as she ran her nails along the back of my head and neck, sending shivers down my spine.
“Is it illegal to make love out here?” she asked softly, and I shook my head before she even finished the question.
It might technically have been against the law, but I didn’t care. It had never been my intention to go home without sinking myself inside of her on that blanket by the water. Before that moment, every time I thought of us being together, I thought of it as having sex or fucking, maybe even just messing around. But she had said the words, “make love,” and those two words alone felt heavier and more meaningful.
Was that what this was? As we slowly undressed each other, kissing softly and letting our hands roam over each other's skin, were we making love? Rain started to fall but we didn’t move, or make a run for it. We simply let it be part of the moment.
It was more than just desire. It was need. It was connection. No one had ever elicited such a yearning from me in my entire life. Part of me was scared that I was just caught up in the fact that she was Loxley Adams, but that couldn’t have been true because despite acknowledging that she was who she was, I’d never treated her any other way.
In fact, it didn’t really matter who she was because as she lowered herself onto my cock and moved back-and-forth, therain started to fall, our eyes locking and our breathing mixing together, I knew exactly who she was.
She was mine.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
LOXLEY
My feelingsfor Miles were intensifying, growing stronger with every passing day. My entire life had changed the moment he caught me speeding. Those two weeks together had blurred the edges of who I was before him, to the point that I didn’t think I’d ever get that old version of me back.
I wanted more time, more stolen moments, and more nights spent wrapped up in him. But fear loomed like a shadow. I couldn’t shake the thought that Sam was going from town to town, inching closer, bringing my punishment with him. Running away might have felt liberating at first, but I knew there’d be consequences. The record label would make sure of that.
I was already going to owe them millions for breaking my contracts. And if I didn’t pay? Well, they’d probably make sure I never worked in Nashville again.
Oddly enough, that didn’t sound so bad. Part of me didn’t want to go back. I didn’t want to leave Harmony Haven; the only place that had ever truly felt like home.
But then there was the music.
No matter how much I wanted to stay with Miles, I couldn’t ignore the pull of my passion. Nashville wasn’t just where mycareer was, it was where I could create magic. My time with Miles had changed me, reshaped my heart, but nothing would ever dull the craving I had to make art, to write songs, and to sing them for anyone who’d listen.
It was like being the author of a book. The stories were ingrained in me, demanding to be told. Piecing them together, putting the words in the right order, crafting something meaningful. It brought me a kind of joy I couldn’t explain. It wasn’t just about creating; it was about the way people responded to it.
I wanted to sing my stories to the world. I wanted people to hear my art, to feel it, to understand me in ways words alone couldn’t convey.
But wanting that didn’t mean I didn’t also want him.
When we got back to the house, I told Miles I needed to write. Maybe it was the whiskey doing for me what it seemed to do for everyone else in country music, or maybe it was the heightened emotions I felt being out by the water with Miles.
Either way, the words were flowing on to the paper, my pen making an eerie noise as I wrote as fast as I could. I was so scared that the lyrics inside my heart would disappear before I could immortalize them.
Your lips write secrets across my skin,
Each kiss a story, where do I begin?
You’ve got me spinning, lost in your flame,
Whisper my name, drive me insane.
Keep me forever, take full control,
Hold me tighter, never let me go.
