Page 92 of Rebel Bride
He tipped my chin up, and I was suddenly frighteningly aware of how beautiful he was. Not just in looks, but inside, too. He had come to my rescue, sheltered me from the storm, and respected my choices. He’d also made it clear that he wanted me.
I was a data girlie, and that was the data point thrumming through me this minute.
“Don’t mind me. I’m feeling sorry for myself.”
“That’s okay. We all do from time to time.”
“Weirdly, the thing that hurt the most wasn’t the false accusation of cheating or the hints that I was definitely not after his money.” I snatched a breath. “It was that dig about not connecting with his family. Like I’m some sort of sociopath who can never belong anywhere.”
He growled. “Total and utter bullshit. I’ve seen you with people, with players in the front office and at the Empty Net. Last Halloween you came to our house party, and the kids adored you and your Taco-Belle Disney princess costume. People feel better when you walk into a room, Summer.”
Not everyone. At that party, Hatch had glowered at me any time I caught his eye. The contradictions fascinated me.
He was still talking. “So maybe you’ve held yourself back a little because of your past, but I know my sister wouldn’t have invited you into her home if she didn’t think you were worth her time. She’s an excellent judge of character. Carter has to buy every connection in his miserable platinum-plated life. You earn it by being you.”
His kindness floored me. I wasn’t sure I deserved it, but I couldn’t deny how special he made me feel.
Unable to help myself, I rubbed a hand along his chest, loving how his breath hitched. I did that. I held some sort of power over him, and when you felt as weak as I did, any glimpse of control was heady.
“I’m a little sick of it. The self-pity, the punishing myself.”
I hadn’t done much of that in Saugatuck. I had let Hatch make me feel good. I wanted to feel that way again.
He merely watched and waited, giving me space to sort out my feelings. But the tension in his body was unmistakable. He was a dangerous predator, coiled, ready to spring, and all I had to do was whisper, “here, kitty kitty.”
That Hot Goss garbage made me the villain. If I was to do the time, I may as well do the crime.
I reached up and kissed him.
“Oh, fuck,” he murmured into my mouth.
I couldn’t have envisioned a better reaction.
Until he topped it. He grasped my ass with both hands, scooped me up like I weighed nothing, and pushed me against the nearest cubby.
Dash’s.
A small part of me enjoyed that. The majority stakeholder in my brain, on the other hand, preferred to ignore it and let myself be swept away by the moment. By Hatch’s hands on me, rough and seeking. By his mouth on mine, devastatingly gentle, then resoundingly passionate. He had said I was his end game, which was absurdly focused and serious. He hardly knew me, yet he wanted me badly.
And I wanted to be wanted like this. I needed it.
But not here against my ex’s cubby. Not even I was that messed up.
Oh yes you are.
Go to hell, Shelby Mae!
I pulled away. “Someone might come in,” I panted.
As usual, Hatch had the answer. Lifting me up, he brought me through to the showers. More private, and though the water wasn’t on, it felt steamier. Sexier. As if it could get any hotter in here.
The next few moments passed in a wild tussle of hands and mouths. My leggings yanked down, a towel ripped away, the bliss of his palm cupping between my legs. Yet again, Hatch was ever generous, giving me what I needed. It was time I returned the favor—and took back some control for myself.
I fell to my knees and tipped my head back to meet his glowing, green-eyed gaze.
His lips parted. Words seemed to fail him. Finally, he managed, “Sunshine, you don’t have?—”
I didn’t let him finish.
