I’ve been watching Catalina McCray for three weeks. She’s the sister of our worst enemy. I should want to kill her.
Instead, I want to fuck her.
To own her.
Lay claim in a way she’ll beg me for mercy. I want her to be so consumed with thoughts of me that she can’t see straight. This woman has gotten so far under my skin, I can’t remember when she wasn’t.
The shitty fucking part? She doesn’t even know I exist. I’m no one to her when we cross paths in this dingy, little frontier town. Even the locals don’t bother with me. I blend in, doing what I’m supposed to.
Watching Catalina.
Always watching.
She barely leaves the mountain except for supplies, and even most of those are delivered. She loves her dogs, spoils them rotten. Gives them the attention I crave.
McCray hasn’t shown up, and I’m ready to leave. Fuck this cold snow and freezing wind chills. If I can’t be buried balls deep inside her, I don’t want to be here. Except intel says Thomas is coming this way.
I tried to leave three days ago. King was pissed and sent me back.
We don’t know what the plan is. If he’s even coming here, if she’s in danger. But all of the sudden, we’re the good guys hell-bent on protecting the innocent girl.
If I weren’t so attracted to her, drawn to her lightness, I’d leave her to her fate.
Catalina is like a drug I’ve never ingested but can’t wait to get addicted to. She’s everything I’m not and all I want. She’s light, and I’m dark. She’s virtue, and I’m death.
I’m going to break her so beautifully.
Catalina
I feel his eyes on me. The stranger from town. The one who thinks no one sees him, but everyone’s keeping their eye on him. Waiting for whatever it is he’s here for.
I’m a quiet person; like to keep to myself. I have very few friends in this world and even less family. The townsfolk may not see me around often, but they know me, respect me even because of what my mother did for them. She brought in warehousing and storage for the local shops to make the winters easier, and with that, bringing jobs as well. She injected much-needed business into a town on the brink of death.
Our town may be tiny, but it’s slowly making its way back on the map again.
When mom passed away ten years ago, leaving me—a nine-year-old girl— with nothing and no one, everyone rallied around me. I may have grown quieter over the years, but I’m still theirs.
A new man comes to town, with no ties to the community and appearing as dangerous as Al Pacino, people talk. When he was caught eyeing me one too many times, I was made aware.
I started looking out for him. Waiting for those small moments when he would let his presence be known. I anticipated them. I had no idea why until just six days ago.
Our gazes clashed. Like a shipwreck, I was brought to heel. I felt this mysterious man to my core. He was in my blood, humming through my veins, and I couldn’t let go.
His icy stare was cold, impenetrable. Murderous. Except…it wasn’t. For me, anyway. When he looked at me, it was full of heat, possession. Things I know nothing about.
I’m not sure who this stranger is, but my body and heart seem to. They scream that he’s elemental to my life. He’s the missing piece to put me back together again.
There’s a storm coming in from the north, and my instincts say it’s going to be a bad one. The temperatures have been dropping all day. My dogs, East and West, have been going nuts with the high winds.
Gazing outside, I know there’s only about two hours of sunlight left before this storm takes over for a predicted three days.
Slipping into my heavy coat and boots, I pull on my toque and gloves and make my way outside. I go around checking the generator and propane to make sure I’ll be okay for the duration.
After bringing in the dogs and the two kittens they found in the barn–Luna and Zoe–I know I have to chop wood. I should have done it first. It’s the one and only task I dread. I hate wielding the powerful ax.
I’m not the most graceful person, and the fear of completely missing the wood paralyzes me every time. I’m terrified of injuring myself and being stuck up here. I only have a radio for contact, but the winter storms always take out the tower, and I get nothing but static half the time. It would mean certain death.
Lifting the heavy weapon above my head, the thud of hitting the chopping block as I miss the split log entirely is overwhelmingly loud in the quiet air.
“Fuck a duck.” Blowing out a breath, I try again, this time getting the ax stuck in the wooden log. This is going to be a long damn night.
“You’re going to fucking kill yourself,” is muttered behind me as a large shadow overcasts the whole area I’m standing in.
Spinning, I’m lost in the coldest glare I’ve ever seen. “Wh– who are you?” I stutter out.
“The man who’s not going to let you slaughter yourself.” His voice is gravelly, like it’s been through a wood chipper.
“I’m perfectly fine to do this on my own.” My stubborn pride won’t let me give this stranger my weapon. With the dogs inside, I have nothing to protect myself with.
The sneer he shoots me as I back away isn’t helping his cause. “If I wanted you dead, little lamb, I could have done so a dozen times over by now.”
“Comforting,” I mutter, gauging the distance between us and the house.
“You won’t make it.” He smirks in a sexy way that I shouldn’t be noticing.
“I could.” I smart back, needing him to know that I’m not some doormat. Even if I’m pretty sure I am.
His hand reaches out to me with lightning speed, and I gasp as with one firm shake, he has me dropping the ax and is pulling me closer to his oversized hulk frame with the other. His grip on the back of my neck is punishing as his mouth lowers to mine, freezing for just a split second so I can pull away.
I don’t.
I’m the idiot who leans closer so my captor can kiss me.
What are you doing, Catalina?
Who the hell knows.
As our mouths collide, a rush of emotion flows through me. It’s more than my own. It’s more than I’ve ever known.
It’s him.
He has this control that I can’t quite put my finger on.
Atticus
Watching Catalina attempt to chop wood is excruciating. Sooner or later, she’s going to send that ax right through her calf.
I didn’t mean to approach her. I’m here on a surveillance-only mission, but I couldn’t fucking help it. Even if I tried stopping my feet from moving forward, I don’t think it would have worked. She’s iron, I’m steel, and we’re meant to collide. I’m more sure of that now than ever before.
Kissing her isn’t in the plan. I want her safe. However, being so close, her earthy scent filling my nostrils, it can’t be helped.
She doesn’t fight me. She leans in for it. Anticipates the touch as much as I do. When we touched that first time, she melted into me. Her entire body submitted to my very dominance.
I could take anything from her I want, and I’m sure she would give it willingly, too. There’s a magnetic pulse between us that I don’t think can be explained away. It’s more than wind and fire, it’s more than this earth. It’s us.
It’s her.
Together, we’ll be stronger.
Slowing the kiss down, I bite her lip as I pull away, sucking the muscle between my teeth, and she fucking moans. Deep from her core. I have to hold her up, so she doesn’t fall over from her weakened knees.
With a hand on her back, I guide her towards her tiny cabin. “Go inside. I’ll finish this, then we’ll talk about why I’m here.”
After watching King and then Luther fall, I’m determined to do this right. There’s not a single doubt in the world that after that display, she’ll be mine. Where I go, she goes. But first, I need to tell her why I’m here. The deception and chaos that is likely to come for her.
She needs to know of her family and what they’ve done, the legacy they’re fighting to carry on, before she can truly be free to submit her entire being to me.
Turning to shut the door, she asks me, “What’s your name?”
Lifting a corner of my mouth, I answer, “Atticus Kincaid.”
Walking away, I hear her murmur, “So strong.”
Chopping all the wood in her shed, I can feel her gaze on me the whole time. She observes with an intensity I savor. I swing the ax with force each time, splitting the wood in one blow.
I’m sure she’s inside, pacing back and forth by the window right now. Watching. Waiting. Wanting to know why I’m here, if I’m going to hurt her. What I want.
What I want right now, more than anything is to be buried between her thick thighs. Her hair fisted in both my hands as I ride her lush body to completion. I want to fuck her until neither of us can walk straight. I want her moaning my name so loud birds take flight from fright. I want to fucking own every little bit of Catalina that I can. That way, when she finds out who I am, why I’m here, she won’t be able to leave me.
Stacking the wood on her small porch, I secure it with the tarp setting close by so the snow doesn’t soak it. Covering up the rest that won’t fit on the porch, I take a last look around the property as the sun descends in the west. Losing light quickly, I stomp up the steps, so she knows I’m coming.
Turning the knob on the door, I’m somewhat shocked it’s locked. A bit proud, nonetheless. She’s not stupid, and it clearly shows as she tries to protect herself. It won’t work against me, though. I’m coming in one way or another.
“Open the door, lamb.”
“Why do you call me that?” Her breathless reply is immediate and right on the other side of the heavy wood.
“Because every time I’ve seen you, you’ve been alone like a little lamb awaiting slaughter.”
Her sharp inhale isn’t missed. “Is that what you’re going to do? Slaughter me?”
Raising one hand, I lean against the door jam. “No. You have nothing to fear from me.” It’s partially true. I won’t hurt her for the sake of hurting her. I’m going to hurt her for our pleasure. I’m just not going to tell her that, yet.
The door opens, and she stands there, watching, assessing. Her long brown hair is in a braid to the side and trailing down her perky tits. Her tight yoga pants leave nothing to my imagination as she shifts from one foot to the other.
Behind her, the dogs sit, poised to attack on her command. Sentries protecting their mistress. For any other man, they’d be terrifying. For me, they’re a nuisance.
Levelling both animals with a stern look, I bark out, “Scat!” and they scatter to another room.
Catalina looks behind her as she hears them rush away and mutters, “Traitors.”
Stepping closer, I snake one hand around her back, skating it up and under her shirt. Her warm flesh heats my cooled skin. She jumps forward, right into my chest, at the cold contact.
“Who are you?” she asks again. Only this time, I know she’s not asking my name.
“I am yours,” is the simple answer. “You are mine.” I won’t leave any room for confusion.
“That’s ridiculous,” she protests.
Lifting one side of my mouth, my gaze narrows on her, and I pick her up by the waist. Walking to her small couch, I sit, settling her on my lap, so her warm pussy is pressed tightly against my hardening cock.
Her shocked gaze meets mine. “You feel that?” My voice is husky to my own ears. She nods. “That says you’re mine.”
“Except I’m not,” she responds quietly.
A devilish grin overtakes my face. “This storm is going to last for days. You sure you want to spend it fighting?” My hand slides up her back, pushing her tight shirt up with it. Revealing her abdomen, I draw the fingers of my other hand across her soft flesh.
“What are you doing?” She’s breathless.
Goosebumps break out on her skin. “Showing you.” I lean forward, rubbing the scruff of my beard across her generous cleavage, leaving a trail of red behind while Catalina shivers on me.
She’s fighting it…me. I can feel her tense then relax, repeatedly. Her mind and body are at war. “The things I want to do to your delectable body.”
“You can’t.”
“You got a man?” I don’t think that would even stop me.
“Maybe.”
Trigger.
I feel it pull.
Rage rushes to the surface as I pull away. I know exactly what I look like to her shocked and slightly scared gaze. My eyes, normally the color of ice, will be nearly black. My face will look like granite.
“I’ll kill him,” I tell her, completely serious. If someone has touched her body, they’re dead. Tears hover in her eyes as I pull her hair from behind. “Who touched you?” She’s silent as I seethe. “Tell me!” I shout, making her jump.
“No one,” she whispers, and there’s a sad tint in her eyes.
“Why does that make you sad?” I don’t relent on my hold, wanting the truth from her.
Her fingers reach out to me, one grazes my jaw, the other holds my forearm where I’ve got my hand on her hip. “Because I want…”
I wait as she pauses. When nothing comes, I lean into her chest. “You want what?”
“I tried…” She trails off again, and the growl that releases from me is ferocious. “I tried to once.”
“Tried what?”
Licking her lips, her eyes slide away from mine, and it pisses me off further. “To be with someone.”
“Who?” I sound deadly.
“It doesn’t matter,” she whispers, and I sense something more. Something she’s not telling me.
“He rejected you.” Her stare meets mine, and I know I’m right. “For what? What you wanted? Or what he wanted and you didn’t?”
“What I wanted,” she finally confesses, shame clouding her irises.
“What do you want, Catalina?” My breathing picks up because I have a feeling this slip of a woman wants far more than any mountainman can give her. She needs something dark. Someone dark.
Without a word, both her hands wrap around my wrist on her hip and bring it up to her slender neck.
My devilish grin is back again. I know exactly what she wants. And I’ll fucking give it to her.
Catalina
He’s a stranger.
A dangerous man.
With brute force and death in his stare.
I should be terrified of him. I should be screaming, running scared. Instead, I anticipate the tightening of his fingers. The loss of breath to constrict my lungs and the pleasure I hope will consume me.
Just feeling his hand around my throat has my body buzzing. I know he’ll do it. If not for my pleasure, then for his own. I can see it in his eyes. He wants to.
Bringing his face closer to mine, he says against my lips, “Red to let go, yellow for perfect, green for more.” I nod. “Words, little lamb.”
“Yes. Please, yes, Atticus.” I can’t stop the pleading in my voice. I’ve always been different. It hadn’t been made clear how much so until I was eighteen and about to be with a man for the first time. When I expressed what I wanted, he recoiled like I’d kicked him in the nuts. Utter disgust colored his gaze, and I never heard from him again.
I isolated myself further after that. Refused to interact with the opposite sex unless forced to.
“We’re going to play a game,” he says. “For every right answer, I’ll go tighter. For every wrong one, I’ll loosen. Got it?” I nod. “Words. Always give me the words.”
“Yes. I understand.”
“We’ll start easy. Are you a virgin?” His eyes darken with anger at the mere thought that I’m not.
“Yes.” I smooth one hand along his neck and jaw. His fingers tighten a tiny fraction, and I know he’s going to make me work for this. I should feel embarrassed, but his growing and throbbing erection against my heated core tell me he’s enjoying this just as much as me, if not more.
“Is this you’re only craving?”
“No.” I want so much more. I can feel his finger dig into my carotid artery as he tightens again. This time a little more and excitement crawls up my spine.
“Are you attracted to me?” My gaze shoots to his.
I shouldn’t be. He should be terrifying me. “Yes,” I admit, and finally, he tightens enough that I feel my breaths start to slow. When I moan, he tightens further. My eyes close in surrender as desire courses through me.
“Color?” he asks.
“Green.” I rush to say. I need more. So much more.
I can feel the bruising that will linger where his fingers are, and I still crave more. My lungs are struggling to draw in air now.
“Last question for now,” he says, and I can feel his breath on my lips as his other hand lets go of my hair, travelling around to my pelvis. With just a small touch, he rubs a finger across my clit, making my pussy throb. “If I reach down your pants right now, will your cunt be soaking wet for me?”
“Yes.” I barely sigh, but he hears me.
His fingers tighten. Stars explode behind my eyes as his other hand slips into my pants and puts pressure on my clit.
“You’re fucking soaked for me, little lamb.” Satisfaction rings from his voice as he manipulates me into orgasmic bliss.
My body sails into a hedonistic carnality I’ve never felt before. I’m languid as Atticus plays me like a finely tuned instrument manufactured for his indulgence. As one of his fingers slips into my tightness, my legs spread further, making room for him as I continue to float in ecstasy.
“Just like that, Catalina,” he croons as his grip on my throat loosens slowly, bringing me back to the land of the living. “Always like that.” Taking his hand out of my pants, Atticus brings his wet finger to my lips, rubbing my essence on like a lip stain.
Crashing his mouth over mine, I’m taken away again. Losing myself in his taste, whiskey and spice, as his tongue plays with mine. His hands on my back push me further into his chest, possessively.
I’m breathless as he continues his onslaught of my body. Not letting me take a full breath until my inhalations border on hyperventilating.
As he pulls away, a soft look, one I never would have guessed he was capable of, crosses his face as he pulls me into his chest. Suddenly exhausted, my body relaxes on his chest, and the thundering of his heartbeat soothes me into a sleep I wasn’t expecting as the sun finally disappears in the sky.