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Reckless (Chestnut Springs Book 4): Chapter 27

Theo

I sense the weight of people’s gazes as I practically chase Winter through the room. My long, assertive strides gain ground behind her short, choppy ones.

She turns down a narrow wood-paneled hallway. It’s quieter here, even with my heartbeat in my ears and her heels clacking on the floor.

At the very end of the corridor, she goes left and wrenches on the door handle, wild eyes meeting mine over her shoulder. “Theo. Go away. I want to be alone.” A tear streaks down her face.

I know she hates to cry. Hates having big feelings and big conversations. Hates to feel weak or out of control.

But . . .

“That’s too bad, because today, I don’t give a fuck what you want,” I growl as I yank the door open wider to accommodate my width. “Get in.” I push her gently into the washroom, my hand between her shoulder blades as we step into the large space with a butcher-block vanity and bowl sink.

“I don’t want you here!” she hisses, wiping furiously at her face as she turns away from me to face the mirror that runs all the way to the ceiling. “Would hate for happy, lovable fucking Theo Silva to get his legendary dick frostbitten by the ice-queen.”

“Winter, that was a joke.” I lock the door while she stares at us in the mirror. Flushed cheeks, wide eyes, one hand on her heaving chest. “It was a dumb fucking joke.”

“It wasn’t funny.”

“No shit!” My arms fly out and my voice booms. “I made a mistake. One little mistake after everything and you treat me like I’m just another asshole and take off!”

“It wasn’t a mistake! It’s a way of thinking about Summer and me that everyone does! I’ll always be the cold, heartless bitch because Summer gets to be the sweet, agreeable one. And of course, you see me the same way as everyone else. Why wouldn’t you?”

Her words stun me. The heat in my cheeks creeps down my throat, a perfect mirror to the tears rolling down her cheeks. Both signs of our frustration.

“You know what, Winter?” My voice is low, but it vibrates with an unfamiliar fury. “I am fucking tired. I am tired of you not seeing what I see. Tired of you talking shit about yourself. I am tired of you not realizing what’s right here”—my palm lands heavy on my chest—“right in front of you. What more do I have to fucking do for you to trust me? For you to give me the benefit of the doubt just once!”

She doesn’t flinch at my outburst. Silent tears mar her makeup as they flow freely down her face.

But she says nothing. So I keep going. Stepping close enough to trail my fingers over the line of her jaw.

“I am not your dad. I am not your ex. I am here doing my best for you. And it seems like the more I give you, the less I get back. Why is that?”

Her jaw trembles as she opens it, like she’s about to respond. But then she shuts down. Slams it shut and looks away.

I huff out a frustrated breath, dropping my hand from her cheek as I turn to leave. But the loss of my touch has her spinning on her heel to face me.

“Because I want you!” she shouts, stopping me in my tracks. “And I want this!” Her hand gestures frantically between us. “I want us! And that terrifies me! Because what if it doesn’t work and Vivi is stuck with two parents who hate each other? I know how that goes and it fucking sucks. We like each other right now. I’m finally happy. It feels safe here. I can’t handle another person who hates me.”

The tears continue flowing, and she makes no move to stop them. She just stares at me after that brutally honest, raw outburst. She still holds her chin high, defiantly, no matter how vulnerable she’s just been.

“That’s all you had to say.”

She blinks, but otherwise doesn’t react.

But I can’t handle staying away from her anymore. Can’t stand this distance between us. All it takes is two long steps for me to tower over her. One step for me to push her back against the closed door. And a few inches for me to crush my lips against hers.

She doesn’t miss a beat, arching into me and wrapping her arms around my neck, moaning into my mouth.

Clinging to me.

“I promise I could never hate you,” I murmur against her mouth, hand skimming her jaw.

Her eyes flash to mine. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

We kiss again. Frantically. Like she’s still trying to push through this conversation. Hands roaming, she grabs the lapels of my suit jacket, giving them a hard tug.

“I promise I’ll never hate you.” I drag my lips over her cheek, my teeth back down along her jaw.

“You can’t know that,” she whispers, a sharp intake of breath hissing from between her lips as I spin her and face us toward the mirror. Forcing her to look at us.

My hands trail over the silk, tracing every curve, thumbs detouring down into that little dip beneath her hips. “I can. I’ll be too busy loving you.”

All she does is breathe and watch us. Watch my hands sliding everywhere, taking all the ground I’ve been desperate to cover for so damn long.

Then her hands cover mine, moving as I move. Her eyes now full of awe, she raptly follows the trail my touch blazes over her body. Hips. Stomach. Breasts. Inner thighs.

I’m rock hard, my cock bulging against the swell of her ass.

She grinds back on me, and I groan.

“Tell me what you want, Tink.”

Her lips pop open and I watch her thinking, deciding what to say next.

“I don’t want any more of those pity orgasms you gave me in the gym.”

“Pity orgasms?”

“Yeah. Like you just did it because you were trying to make me feel better. Like you feel bad for me.”

This is not what I expected her to say.

“I wasn’t just doing it to—”

“I want you to fuck me like you did that night in the hotel. Like you can’t stand to keep your hands off me. Like . . .” She trails off, back to biting her bottom lip. “It’s like you respect me too much now. I get pity orgasms and pretty words. I want to be more than that. I want . . .” I observe the way she’s working this out. She’s not used to asking for what she wants. “I want you unhinged for me. Just . . . disrespect me. Just for a bit.”

That night.

My lips drag over the shell of her ear, and she shivers. “You’d like to be my pretty little slut tonight?”

My teeth sink into the lobe of her ear as the words echo around us. When she doesn’t respond, I quirk a brow at her.

She lifts her chin like she refuses to feel any shame about her request. “Yes.”

Flames lash at my spine, and I will myself to take this slowly. I don’t give a fuck where we are right now. I’m going to savor the hell out of this woman.

“You’ve been a real cock-tease, strutting around in this dress all day. I think it’s time you pay for that, don’t you?” I flick one flimsy strap off her shoulder.

Her tongue darts out over her plush lips. Every move she makes drives me crazy. Just being this close to her, inhaling her vanilla body lotion, makes me unbearably hard.

She nods.

I spin her and press down on her shoulders, guiding her to the hardwood floor. “Good. Now get on your fucking knees and suck my cock like it’ll end in a mouth full of that champagne you keep talking about.”

As she hits the ground, she lifts her baby blues up at me for a beat, and then her hands attack my belt and pants with a needy fervor.

She’s too impatient to do more than tug my slacks down far enough to get what she’s after. I groan when my cock springs free, head brushing her lips as she wraps her fist around the base. Her eyes flit up to mine as she kneels before me, rubbing the thick head of my cock over her lush mouth.

The teasing drives me insane, so I grip her hair and thrust.

Her lips open and her tongue swirls, cheeks hollowing out as she sucks me.

My hands stay on her head, but they’re just there for the ride. I don’t need to push or pull. She’s eager enough all on her own.

Hot. Wet. Hungry.

Just the way I like her.

“Is this what you needed, Winter?” My fingers stroke her hair.

She hums her response around my length, one hand firm around my dick while the other gently squeezes my balls.

“Fuck.” My head tips back and I close my eyes as my hips move, fucking her greedy little mouth. “Winter. It’s too good. You’re too good.”

She doubles her efforts, going deep enough that I feel the back of her throat butting up against the head of my cock. I hear the little gagging noise she makes as she struggles to take it all, and it pushes me to the edge.

“Winter, if you don’t stop soon, I’m going to . . .” I trail off as I gaze down at her. Hair mussed. Pearl necklace against the column of her throat. Eyes on me.

“Oh, that’s what you want? Of course, you do.” I smirk and toss her a wink. Then I take her head, hold her still, and fuck her mouth.

Her gaze remains plastered on me, her hands braced against my quads, holding on for dear life. After a few furious thrusts, I give in and spill myself down her throat.

She doesn’t look away. She doesn’t pull back.

“Lapping up every last drop, aren’t you?” I ask as she holds me there, swallowing it all before sliding off my length.

I’m panting, hands still in her hair, when she peeks up at me. “The champagne was still better,” she says with a demure smile as she licks her lips like the little liar she is.

I work on catching my breath for a moment after the hottest blow job of my life before I fix my pants and give a shake of my head at her. “I’ll get you more once I’ve had my turn,” I reply, taking her hand and helping her to stand.

Then I kiss her. Because I can. Because she wants me to.

I press that one hard, frenzied kiss to her mouth and then swiftly push her away, flipping her around so we’re back to facing the mirror.

We look so good together. Her eyes all sparkly and bright. Her lips all puffy and freshly fucked. But I don’t stand around watching for long.

“Don’t much like the idea of you not having a turn.” I reach down, lifting her dress. My cock already moving again as I expose each inch of smooth skin.

“You seemed fine with it the other day.”

“That’s different.”

Her brow quirks as the silk slides up to her waist, giving me a view of the pale pink thong beneath. I groan at the sight.

“How do you figure?”

I step back to get a good view of her ass before tapping her elbow as a sign to lift her arms. Within seconds, the dress is gone. I’m not a total savage, and I know we need to get out of here eventually, so I hang it carefully on the hook attached to the door.

“Because eating your pussy is one of my favorite things to do.”

I flick the clasps of her bra and watch the waste of fabric fall.

My hands cover her breasts, cupping the bare skin in my palms.

Her head tilts. “Who said sucking your cock isn’t one of my favorite things to do?”

My mouth follows the curve of her neck, planting kisses, until I decide to take a bite of her shoulder. She gasps.

“Say that again,” I murmur, pressing a hand to the middle of her back to bend her forward, propping her hands on the countertop.

“Say what?” She’s panting now, still watching me in the reflective glass.

I give the left cheek of her ass a bite as I drop to my knees, pulling the thong with me. I’m met by smooth, toned legs propped up in the most alluring way above the three-inch heels she’s wearing.

“That sucking my cock is your favorite thing to do.”

“Jesus,” she rasps, right as I run my fingers over her core, discovering how ready she is for me.

I slide two fingers into her, thoroughly enjoying the view of her body bent over like this for me, enjoying her eagerness. How honest she’s been.

“Sucking your cock is my favorite thing to do,” she finally gets out in a breathy voice.

My fingers glide in and pull back out, covered in her wetness. “I can tell. You’re fucking soaked.”

I shove them back in and drop my mouth to her. Licking, sucking, working her with my fingers until she rocks back on me.

“Theo.” She moans as her legs shake, but I don’t let up. I keep a steady rhythm, swiping her clit with my tongue the way she likes.

“Theo.” My fingers move harder, rocking her body on unsteady heels. “Theo! If you don’t fuck me soon, I’m going to scream!” Her tone is demanding and breathless all at once.

I grin as I withdraw my fingers and come to stand above her. She looks unhinged. Just like that night we shared.

And I love it.

I wedge a dress shoe between her heels and kick her feet apart. “Spread, Winter. Ass up so I can disrespect you the way you want me to.”

She moans in response. And I just go to work on my pants again. Pulled down is good enough for now. I can take my time with her later.

“You’re going to scream, huh?” I run the head of my cock through her slick center.

She nods, elbows propped on the counter, pink fingernails clawing the wooden countertop as her back arches, pussy tipped up in offering.

“Yes. Loud.”

“Begging for it like the good little slut you are.” My hand lands flat and firm against her ass cheek. The breath hissing from between her lips rings out in the quiet bathroom. “Just like I said you would.”

And then I thrust inside. To the hilt, holding nothing back.

“Fuck.” I glance down at where I’m buried inside her and take a moment to appreciate the sight of her stretched around my girth. “You feel so good,” I murmur, sliding in and out slowly. “So fucking good.”

When I look up, she’s watching me in the mirror. “Enjoying the view?”

“You’ve said that to me before,” she whispers.

I take one hand and run it up the column of her spine, trailing my fingers along the indent there. “That night when you showed me how you touch yourself, and I made some . . . tweaks.” I give her hair a tug, holding her gaze in the mirror. “You gonna look me in the eye and tell me you can’t come again?”

“No, Theo.” Her tongue darts out between her lips to wet them. “We both know I only come for you.”

I hover over her, pulling her hair to tilt her face. My mouth crashes against hers, tongues clashing, teeth nipping. And for a few moments, I let myself focus on taking her mouth, but she wiggles her ass in a desperate plea for more of my cock.

So I give it to her.

My hips slap against her, and she pushes back to meet every motion.

“Is this what you wanted?”

“Yes,” she breathes, voice hitching as she grips the spout over the sink.

I reach around and play with her clit.

“Fuck, yes.” Her eyes flutter shut, and her knuckles turn white on the faucet.

I pick up the pace, and her legs falter, her body propped against the vanity now as her heels slip and lose purchase.

But I don’t stop. Not when she’s chanting my name and squirming like she might come apart at any moment.

“You look perfect like this, Winter. Bent over. Cunt full. Only wearing these pretty pink heels.”

“Theo . . .”

My finger works more swiftly, rubbing rough circles between her legs. My opposite hand grips her shoulder, her hair. Some tendrils have come loose and stick to the perspiration on the back of her neck.

I fuck her hard.

“Take it, Winter. Come on my cock.”

“Theo!” Her voice is loud now.

I hope someone hears us.

“I’m going—”

She doesn’t finish the sentence before she shatters. I feel it everywhere. Her body pulsing. Her head dropping. One stiletto-clad foot pops up off the floor as she topples over the edge and lays herself out on the counter like she’s finally surrendered. And that flush from before sweeps down her back right before my eyes.

I ease off, pressing my fingers rather than rubbing, taking long, even strokes rather than fast ones. Until her body has gone completely soft, and I’ve wrung every whimper from her lungs.

She looks beautiful. Wrung out. And all it takes is a few rough thrusts into her body for me to get there too.

I pull out, fist my cock, and blow on her back. Shot after shot lands on her smooth skin, marking her.

It’s more satisfying than it should be.

Several moments pass as we catch our breath, and then a spent chuckle leaves her, jostling her body. It’s like we were entirely different people just now. Animalistic and passionate and so fucking hungry. As we both come back down, the mood lightens.

“Wow.”

“Wow, what?” I reply, propping a hand against the wall to get my own bearings.

“I don’t think I can walk anymore. Pretty sure my entire post-secondary education just evaporated right out of my head.”

I trail a finger through the mess on her back and watch her shiver. “Just stay like this. I can go again.”

Her head flips over her shoulder to me, eyes wide. “What?”

“What? You look good with a pearl belt.” My chin juts out at her. “Matches your pearl necklace.”

Her head drops, and she laughs. It sounds so good on her, airy and carefree.

“I can’t believe I just fucked a bull rider at my sister’s wedding.”

With a smile, I pull my pants up and turn to gather a handful of paper towels to clean her off. “Rude. You fucked your baby daddy at your sister’s wedding, and you know you’d do it again.”

Her back shakes on another laugh as I dab her off with steady hands. I toss the messy handful and grab another, reaching over her prone body to wet it with warm water.

With a gentle squeeze of my hand, water droplets fall across her back, little dots that land and roll along the slender slope of her body.

“And now he’s giving me a sponge bath.”

“Yeah. But this is the slut version. No sponges or fancy soap in a bathtub. Just paper towels and lukewarm tap water in a public washroom.”

Her face drops into her hands, and she laughs harder. “Theo, stop.”

I smile down at her back as I move the paper towel over her carefully, not wanting to miss a spot. Drunk on the sound of laughter flowing from a woman who has spent far too long feeling sad.

I take my time, reveling in being able to touch her so freely.

“Are you done?”

A sigh leaves me. “I guess so. I want to do this again. The princess version of a sponge bath though.”

She peeks up at me through the mirror. “Yeah.” She nods. “Okay.”

“Okay,” I agree, with a wink that still makes her blush.

I toss the paper towel away and she straightens. We turn to face each other, and I get sucked in again. My eyes roam her body.

“I could sit you back on that counter and fuck you again. This time, with your legs wrapped around my waist.”

“Or we could get out of here and do that somewhere else.”

“Yeah.” I lick my lips, mind racing with all the ways I could have her. “But I kind of like doing it where we could get caught.”

“Well, we can do that again too.” She shrugs, looking momentarily innocent. “Sometime. Somewhere.”

I grin and quirk my head. “Anytime, anywhere?”

Her head shakes now, and she blinks away, lips pressed together to hide a smile. “You’re a machine.”

My hands reach for her, and I gather her against my chest. Naked and wearing heels. I thought not having a full-length view would help my erection, but the feel of her pressed against me is almost worse. She smells like cinnamon sugar, and I can’t keep my mouth off her. I kiss her hair. Her cheek. Her neck. My hands slide all over before gripping her ass.

“Has there really been no one else since that night?”

Her question stops me in my tracks.

“It just seems very unlikely. That’s all. Like borderline not normal. I don’t care. I’d just rather have it all laid out. It’s the secrets that kill me.”

“You calling me weird, Tink?” I squeeze her tighter and drop a kiss on her forehead as her head tips up to look me in the eye.

“I don’t know. Am I?”

I reach for her bra, slip it on her, and struggle like an idiot to fasten the stupid hooks. “Yeah. You are.”

“Not even a blow job?”

I reach around her and grab her slip of a dress off the hook. I carefully arrange it over her head to drop it down over her body.

“No, the quality of yours ruined me. Nobody else swallows my cum like it’s Dom Perignon.”

Her eyes roll as I work her arms through the straps. “Not even a kiss?”

“Nobody has the smart mouth that you do. Makes me a lot less interested in kissing them.”

The dress cascades down over her body.

“What about my panties?”

“Oh, yeah. You won’t be needing those anymore.” I swipe them off the ground and toss them in the garbage with all the paper towels.

We regard each other for a beat. She always has a look of wonder on her face when I do or say something playful. It pisses me off and thrills me all at once. It’s like no one has even attempted to make this woman laugh.

“Aren’t you going to ask me if I’ve been with anyone else?”

“No.”

Her brows draw together. “Why not?”

I reach for her hand and tug her along with me toward the door. “Because I don’t care.”

“Okay, well, I haven’t.”

I turn the lock and smirk at her over my shoulder. “I know.”

She stomps her foot in faux outrage. “How do you know? Maybe I’ve had so much sex.”

“Nah,” I say, as we head into the darkened hallway, “Cadillac Ranch” filtering to my ears from the dance floor. “There’d be no point since I’m the only one who can make you come.”


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