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She was a goddamn vision on that stage. So cool and aloof, staring straight ahead like everyone in the room could kiss her shoes.
Half the people there probably would if they thought it’d get them into the Montgomery’s good graces.
I drag a hand down my face.
That’s the thing, though. I want nothing from her family. There’s nothing they have that I can’t buy myself. No connections needed other than a capable gardener.
The only thing I want is. . . her.
Rubbing my fingers against my breastbone, I try to massage away the ache there. But the tightness in my chest has been building for two days, and it won’t cease.
I really shouldn’t want her. No good can come of it, right? She’s prickly.
Except when she’s not.
She’s the granddaughter of Henry Chanler.
She’s also a Montgomery.
But she’s also Katherine.
Katherine, who takes her fury out on a punching bag rather than people.
Katherine, who goes to bat for children across the country, raising funds and getting them better education to live better lives.
Katherine, who likes this worn-out old house.
God.
She was so fucking hot in Alex’s t-shirt. Bare legs. Absolutely dwarfed in the soft white fabric. And her voice, telling me to get in the bed. So stern. So sweet.
And the way my name sounds on her lips.
I can’t wait to hear it again.
I can’t wait to take her on that date.
Is she one of the changes I should say yes to? Is it possible that after all this time, the thing that’s missing from my life is a woman?
And not just any woman, but Katherine Montgomery?
Just thinking of her that way makes me hot under the skin. My cock flares to life.
Her lips beneath mine were a whole new world. Soft and accepting. Firm and needy. And the way she moved against me. So subtle and yet, with every intention of crawling into my arms and staying there.
I want to do it again.
I want to slide my hands up those creamy thighs and see what’s beneath that shirt.
I want to feel her skin against mine.
My hand finds my cock like the two have a mind of their own. The cold water does nothing to cool the need pumping through my veins.
Only a few walls separate us. If not for them, I could have her here. In my arms. Pressed up against the tile. Kissing her. Impaling her on my cock.
With that mental picture, it only takes a few strokes to work myself to a frenzy. I reach for the soap with my free hand and lather up my dick. Fuck yes.
She’d feel even better. I’d bet every penny I’ve ever made.
