“No hospital. I’m going to take you home with me and get you warm,” I tell her. She still doesn't let me go.
“Please, baby,” The words slip past my lips. I have no idea why I called her that, but it came so easily. It felt right. Like I was supposed to call her that.
She finally releases me and I buckle her in. I turn the vents to face her. Her head drops back and I get a clear view of her face. Her thick, long eyelashes rest against her milky skin and her cheeks are red and rosy, her lips full and plump. Almost as red as her cheeks. She looks like a porcelain doll. I’ve never seen something so beautiful in my life. She’s breathtaking.
I shut her door, run around to the driver side, and hop in. I turn the heat on full blast. Her hand slips out of her coat and I see she doesn't have gloves on. I pull mine off. Reaching for her hands I curse when I see her fingers are raw. I can tell she tried to pull at the wood boards on the door.
She flinches at my curse but her eyes don’t open. I want to kick myself. I never curse in front of women. Ever. My manners never let me, but I’m on edge. Normally in the heat of a moment I’m calm and collected, but I’m anything but that right now with her.
I lean over and kiss her right next to her ear. “Sorry, baby,” I tell her. Her body relaxes. I lift her hands, sliding them into the gloves before throwing my cruiser into reverse and heading toward my house.
My home isn't far from town but sits on a nice piece of land surrounded by trees, which means I have total privacy. I like to be somewhat isolated but not too far out that I can't get to town fast if I need to.
Catherine doesn't move or make a sound during the whole drive, but I can hear my heart pounding in my chest. Fear and something else I can’t place rush through my body. I jump out of my car and race to my door, unlocking and opening it before running back to my cruiser.
I open her door and have her in my arms instantly. I kick the car door closed with my foot and make my way up the stairs and into my home. I go straight to the living room. I lay her down on the sofa and arrange a blanket over her before I start a fire in the fireplace and turn the heat up on the thermostat. Grabbing blankets from the closet, I throw them and pillows down in front of the fire, making a little pallet.
I pick her up and carry her over to the makeshift bed. I know what I need to do, but my hands start to shake, something that has never happened to me before. Fuck, I’ve stared down the barrel of a gun, unarmed and unprotected, and my hands didn't even shake in that moment. But here I am thinking about having to remove her wet clothing and my hands are fucking shaking.
I slide off her sneakers, thinking that I need to get her some winter boots to keep her feet warm and dry. Peeling off her socks, I see her tiny little toes are red. I wrap my hands around them, easily engulfing them. Who knew toes could be fucking cute? After a few minutes I pull my own shoes and socks off and slide my socks onto her feet.
With shaking hands I reach for her jeans. It takes me a second to get the button undone. I slide them down her legs and freeze when I see she doesn't have any underwear on. I try to keep my eyes from drifting between her legs, but I lose the battle when I see a light dusting of dark hair on her mound. My cock instantly hardens. I curse myself, pull her jeans the rest of the way off and toss them aside.
Moving up her body, I remove her coat. Her stocking hat comes loose as I move her around. Thick black hair comes tumbling out. The smell of strawberries fills the air. My cock jerks in my pants as I stare down at what looks like a dark-haired angel.
I’ve never had a reaction like this to a woman before. Fuck, she isn't even a woman. She’s a girl. A young helpless girl that my eyes are eating alive. I try and push dirty thoughts of her aside. Thoughts that, since I found and saved her, tell me she now belongs to me. I could keep her here. She’d belong to me and me alone.
I shake my head and go back to undressing her. Removing her shirt. I curse again when I see she doesn't have a fucking bra on either. Her tits aren’t huge. Maybe a handful at most. Everything about her is small and delicate. Her nipples are tiny and hard, I’m sure from the cold. They are a rosy pink and I think how my mouth could warm them up. My mouth waters at the idea.
Making myself get up, I strip myself of my own clothes, leaving my boxers on. I lie down next to her, pulling her toward me—to give her my body heat—and yanking the blankets over us. Her cold skin against mine does nothing to stop the lust coursing through my veins like hot fire.
She snuggles into me, burying her face in my neck, throwing one of her legs over my thighs. The slight shiver that wracked her frame slowly leaves her body and she melts even more into me.
This is going to be the sweetest torture of my life.
6
Catherine
I’m wrapped in warmth. A comfort like I’ve never felt before tingles all over my body. My eyes feel heavy as I slowly open them to see my head is resting on a man.
My breath hitches for a moment as the night before floods through my mind.
Sheriff Bannon.
That’s who saved me. A man I’ve been avoiding like the plague. Now I’m wrapped around him tightly and I don’t want to let go. He feels too good. I feel safe in this moment and I don’t want it to end.
I let my eyes fall back closed, breathing him in. I’ve had a crush on Cole Bannon since he came back to town. I don’t remember him from when I was younger and he was in school here, but we are ten years apart in age. By the time I was old enough to start noticing boys he was gone and in the army, but I still heard people talk about him.