Heath Page 4

  “Does he make you come?” I growl, nipping at her jaw near her ear.

  Her body shudders in my grip. “Not even close.”

  “Do you think of me when he fucks you?”

  “It doesn’t last long enough to consider it a fuck.”

  Rocking my hips against hers slowly, I revel in the desperate moans as she grows closer and closer to her orgasm.

  “You’re not marrying him,” I grind out. “I don’t want to be your secret anymore.”

  Our eyes meet and hers are wide with surprise.

  “It’s not that easy,” she whines. “You know that.”

  And I do.

  I have nothing to offer her. Fucking nothing. Without Crenshaw’s money, I’m just a poor kid from the ghetto. But Crenshaw loves me. He certainly loves Catrina. Maybe if we talk to him, he’d let me marry her instead of Elliot. Maybe he could loan me the money to give us our start. I know, with time, I could make her proud of me. I could be worthy and I’d pay back every cent to her father.

  With new resolve, I crush my lips to hers. Kiss her violently. Desperately. I pepper unspoken promises all over her pretty mouth.

  I will figure out a way for us.

  We will win.

  My cock slides against her in a way she loves and soon she’s coming, crying out my name.

  “Please,” she begs, her palms cradling my cheeks. “I need you.”

  I grip her hips and slide her to her feet. Turning to her left hand, I kiss her palm. I wrap my palm around her wrist and kiss my way to her ring finger. With my eyes on hers, I suck her small finger into my mouth. My teeth latch around the massive diamond and I pull it off, scraping her knuckle along the way.

  She doesn’t fight me and when I’ve freed her of the abomination, I step away from her. Stalking out of the shower, I make my way over to the toilet and spit it into the bowl.

  “Heath!” she admonishes as she turns off the shower.

  I belt out a dark laugh before yanking her to me. Our wet bodies are slick and she almost slips from my grasp. Digging my fingers into her ass, I squat and then hoist her over my shoulder.

  “Caveman!” she shrieks, beating her fists into my back.

  I swat her ass again and carry her into her bedroom. She says my name again—this time like a curse word—when I toss her on the bed. But then, when I crawl over her soaking wet body, my name transforms into something that sounds more like a prayer.

  Begging.

  Pleading.

  A desperation that matches mine.

  I grip the backs of her thighs and push them against her, loving the way her tits bounce with the movement. My aching dick rubs against her slick cunt in a teasing way.

  “Who do you love?” I ask, my voice low and guttural.

  “Always you,” she breathes.

  Slowly, almost painfully so, I push into her. Her green eyes flare with love and lust and an insanity that rivals mine until I’m seated fully inside her.

  “I love you. He doesn’t love you like I do,” I murmur, my voice cracking with emotion.

  Her bottom lip wobbles. “Nobody loves me like you do.”

  Catrina and I fuck like rabbits, but today I stamp my very essence on her soul. No ring or swanky hotel screw will erase me. I’m imprinting myself on her being one thrust at a time. I rub her in all the right ways until she sobs out my name. Sad. So fucking sad.

  And then I pull out and mark her like the animal I am.

  Seeing my cum splattered over her wet, jiggly tits and flat stomach sates my inner beast.

  Mine.

  “I’ll make him see,” I murmur, my eyes glued to her plump, pouty lips. “I’ll make your father see that we’re in love. That Elliot is nothing. That we can be together. Everything will be fine. I’ll get a loan from him. We’ll marry and I’ll pay him back. Tell me you want that.”

  She nods. “I do. God, how I do.”

  “It’s done then,” I say and kiss her lips.

  For hours we make love—or is it eternity? Time with Catrina is never enough.

  I’m about to flip her over and go for more because I’ll never be sated with her, when the door flings open. We scramble to yank the blanket over our naked bodies, but when I realize it’s just nosy Helen, fury replaces my shock.

  “What the fuck, Helen?” I roar. “Get the hell out of here!”

  She squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head. It’s then I realize she’s crying. “Mr. Heath,” she chokes out. “Miss Catrina.”

  I slide from the bed and snag my slacks from the bathroom floor. Yanking them on, I then storm over to her. “For God’s sake, woman, what’s the matter?”

  She sobs harder, so I grab her shoulders and shake some sense into her. Finally, her eyes open and she regards me with a heartbroken stare.

  “He’s gone.”

  I blink in confusion. “Who’s gone?”

  “Mr. Crenshaw. When I brought him his breakfast in bed after you retired to your room, I discovered he’d passed sometime in the middle of the night. I’ve put off telling you long enough. He’s dead.”

  Fuck.

  Fuck.

  Fuuuuuuck.

  Catrina

  DEAD.

  My father is dead.

  This can’t be real. It has to be a nightmare. I rush from the bed, pulling my robe on along the way, and race down the hall to my father’s room. I swing the door open, only to find his bed is empty. The sheets are rumpled. Maybe he’s using the bathroom. I cut across the room and push the door open. It’s empty. Where is he? He has to be somewhere. He can’t be gone. Helen is wrong. I check the closet and the sitting room. He’s nowhere. I sprint down the stairs and check the living room and kitchen. He’s not there.

  “Where is he?” I demand. Helen mumbles incoherent things through her hands as she chokes on her sobs. “Where is he?” I repeat. When she doesn’t answer me, I grab her hands and yank them from her face. “Where the hell is my father?” I shout.

  “They came and got him. They picked him up.”

  “You should’ve come and got me immediately! He’s my father!”

  My body is shaking. This can’t be happening. Not my daddy. My heart clenches in agony. I have to see him for myself. I won’t believe it until I see his lifeless body with my own two eyes.

  “Heath,” I cry out and he wraps his comforting arms around me. “Take me to him, please.”

  Robotically, I get dressed while Heath does the same. When I enter the bathroom to brush my teeth, the glint of the engagement ring shines from under the water in the toilet. I let out a strangled sob as I recall Heath’s words to me. He was supposed to speak to my father so we could be together. Where will that leave us now?

  Plucking the ring from inside the toilet, I rinse it off using soap and water, then drop it into my vanity drawer. I brush my teeth and wash my face then meet Heath downstairs. Helen is in tears, but I ignore her cries. My only focus is on seeing my father.

  Heath drives us into the city, to the hospital Helen said they brought my father to. No words are spoken between us on the way. There doesn’t need to be. I know Heath is hurting as badly as I am. I stare down at our conjoined hands. We fit so perfectly together. He completes me, makes me whole. He gives me strength when I feel weak. He ignores all my flaws and loves me for not only who I am but for who I could be.

  When we pull up to the entrance, I glance over at Heath, silently asking him to be with me through this. He simply nods and exits the vehicle, coming around to my side to open my door. Placing his hand back in mine, we walk through the doors of the hospital together.

  My father’s death is confirmed, but it’s not enough for me. Despite the coroner’s warnings, I demand to see his body. After several hours of waiting, we are finally called back and taken to the morgue, and it’s only in that moment when I see my father’s still body that I accept he’s gone. I barely make it out of the room when my legs give out and I’m falling. Heath catches me, his strong arms always saving me. He h
olds me tight while we cry over the loss of the man we both love.

  “Marry me, Heath,” I blurt out. “I don’t want to waste another day without being with you. Marry me and let’s spend our life together.”

  He pulls me up with him and hoists me into his arms, my legs wrapping around his waist and my arms around his neck. He stalks us down the hall and finds an empty room, slamming the door and locking it shut behind us. I’m not even sure what’s in the room because my attention is only on Heath. His love-filled eyes and his wildly beating heart. He pushes me up against the wall, his hands gripping my ass.

  “Say it again,” he demands.

  “Marry me,” I repeat while streams of tears flow down my cheeks faster than my heartbeat. Happy and sad mixed together. I’ve lost my father, but I refuse to lose Heath. He’s all I have left.

  He studies me for a moment in an attempt to spot any untruth in my words, and once he’s satisfied with what he sees, his lips brush softly against mine. I’m frozen in place at the gentleness of his touch. His mouth moves to my cheek and I feel his tongue dart out, lapping up my salty tears.

  “I need you,” I whisper into his ear. “Please. Make love to me.” I’m aware my father is dead. I know he’s never coming back. But it’s that very notion that has me needing Heath even more right now. Craving that connection and closeness with him. Without saying a word, he undoes his pants and pushes my panties to the side beneath my dress. His lips once again find mine as he thrusts up inside of me. His fingers dig into my flesh as he makes love to me, giving me exactly what I need.

  “Harder,” I murmur against his lips, and he obeys, his thrusts turning violent. My head smacks against the back of the door, but I don’t give a damn. Heath is buried inside of me, our bodies now one. I can feel him so deep his balls are smacking against my ass cheeks. My heels are digging into his back. His mouth moves to my neck as he sucks on my flesh. My hands travel from his shoulders to grip the back of his head. Pulling him closer to me. Needing every part of our bodies to be connected. I can feel our hearts pounding in rhythm against each other. Heath peppers kisses along my collarbone as he pushes into me deeper, harder, hitting that spot he knows all too well.

  “Come with me,” he growls, and my pussy squeezes his cock as I let go, my body shaking uncontrollably as waves of pleasure roll through me. Heath’s thrusts turn frantic, his kisses turning into bites, and all too soon he’s finding his own release against my lower stomach.

  Silently, we clean up, and after he holds me in his arms and tells me everything is going to be okay, we make our way out of the hospital.

  The drive home, we’re both lost in thought and unusually quiet. When we finally pull up in the driveway, I notice an unfamiliar car parked there. I glance over at Heath, but he just shrugs. After opening my door for me, he links his hand with mine as we make our way to the front entranceway. Before he opens the front door, he stops and pulls me into his arms, his mouth crushing mine. “I love you,” he murmurs against my lips. But before I can say the words back, the door swings open and standing there in the doorway is my brother, Hunter Crenshaw.

  “Look what the cat dragged in. If it isn’t the bastard black sheep of the family.” He grins snidely.

  “Hunter! Our father just died. What’s wrong with you?” I shove his chest and walk inside the house, my hand still linked with Heath’s.

  “I’m aware,” Hunter sneers. “Helen called me earlier this morning to let me know our dear old dad croaked in his sleep. Thanks for letting me know, by the way.” He slams the front door and stands with his back to it, his arms crossed over his chest.

  “I only found out myself earlier. We were at the hospital all day waiting to see his body. I couldn’t believe it, but it’s true. I saw him with my own eyes. He’s gone, Hunter.” I let go of Heath’s hand and wrap my arms around my brother’s waist. At first he’s stiff against me, but then he softens, his hand coming down and patting my back. He’s never been good with dealing with his emotions, but he’s still my brother and the only one I have. With Mom leaving us and Dad now dead, Hunter is the only blood I have left in this world.

  “I know, Catrina, but it will be okay. I’m here now and I will make sure you continue to live in your cozy little life of luxury.”

  I lift my head and back up. “Excuse me? What did you say?”

  “You heard me. I know how spoiled Father keeps you, so to honor his wishes, I’ll continue to provide for you. That is until you marry. Then it will become his problem.” He turns to Heath. “You, on the other hand, are fired. I imagine in the will it’ll state that you can stay living here, so unfortunately there’s nothing I can do about that.” Hunter rolls his eyes. “My father always did have a soft spot for you. I don’t know what it is about stray dogs that people find so appealing. They’re dirty and stink and most of them have rabies.” He shivers dramatically. “But if you plan to stay here, things will have to change. For one”—his eyes drag over to me—“no more fucking my sister.”

  Heath’s body moves before anyone even sees it coming and his fist connects with Hunter’s face. “Motherfucker! Don’t you ever speak of your sister like that.”

  “Heath, stop, please,” I plead, my hand tugging on his arm. He allows me to pull him back, but I can see his chest is heaving in anger. Hunter’s hand covers his nose, but I can still see blood trickling down from underneath. Helen, of course, comes running over and hands him a rag for him to place on his nose.

  “Our father just died, Hunter. Please don’t do this right now.”

  Hunter removes the bloodied rag from his nose and grins wickedly. “It’s already been done. I contacted Father’s attorney on my way here. The reading of his will is in a few minutes. Once he tells me what I already know, that the company and estate are mine, it’s all over for you.” He spits out some blood and it spatters in front of Heath’s feet.

  Once Hunter stalks out of the room, I run into Heath’s arms. “He can’t do this, right? He can’t just take over everything. Daddy would never allow him to do that.” When Heath doesn’t respond, I back up so I can look him in the eyes. “Right, Heath? He wouldn’t do that.”

  “It all depends on what he left in his will, but if what Hunter’s saying is true and your father left everything to him, then fuck it. Fuck him. We don’t need his money.” Heath’s hands frame my face. “We’ll run away, Catrina. We’ll find a new place, a fresh start. We’ll get married. I’ll make sure every dream you’ve ever dreamt comes true. I’ll make you happy, I promise.”

  The creak of a door sounds and I tilt my head to the side expecting Hunter to be back for round two, but it’s not my brother. It’s Elliot, and while I should care that he’s most likely just witnessed an intimate moment between Heath and me, I don’t have it in me to give a damn.

  “With what? Love?” Elliott demands and we both turn to face him. “How do you think you will pay for that new life and those dreams? With Monopoly money? Do you think you will find a job that pays like C-Trades does? Wrong. Nobody will give you the time of day. How do you even think you’re going to finish your degree now that Crenshaw is gone? The best thing you can do for Catrina is to walk away now.”

  “Fuck you!” I shout. “The biggest mistake I ever made was agreeing to marry you. I love Heath and he loves me. My daddy would never let you get away with this.” I push past him and head straight for the office. Daddy’s attorney, Mr. Hendrickson, has arrived and is standing there going through the files. He looks up and grants me a sad smile.

  “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “Well, you must be the only one. My poor father’s not even in the grave yet and my brother is trying to take over.” I glare at Hunter, who is sitting in his seat, smirking with a tissue stuffed up his nose.

  “Times like these are hard and everyone handles them differently. Fortunately, your father was a savvy businessman and made sure to draw up a detailed will. I helped him do it myself.”

  Heath and I sit down on the love
seat and I reach for his hand. If this doesn’t go as planned, I’m leaving with Heath. He’s my past and my present. I can’t even see a future without him in it.

  “Okay, let’s begin,” Mr. Hendrickson says, sitting down at my father’s desk. “I, Rufus Crenshaw, residing at 1531 Windy Hills Road, State of New York, declare this to be my will, and I revoke any and all wills and codicils I previously made.

  “At this time, I leave my company C-Trades Enterprises, as well as my assets to my son, Hunter Crenshaw. I entrust in him to run my company and properties in my stead. I leave a trust fund to my daughter, Catrina Crenshaw, that she will receive after her five-year wedding anniversary to Elliot Lincoln. A second trust, which will be provided once she produces an heir…”

  I release a shocked gasp, my hands flying up to my mouth. This doesn’t make sense. Why would he do this? “Stop! When was this will created?”

  Mr. Hendrickson looks up from his documents. “I would say ten years ago.” I do the math in my head. It was just after my mother left and my father swore he would never allow me to end up like her. He was heartbroken and hurt. In a vulnerable state. He wasn’t thinking clearly.

  “There must be a newer will. This can’t be the most recent one.” I stand and snatch the papers from Mr. Hendrickson, reading over it and trying to make sense of all this. I feel Heath’s warm touch on my back.

  “Your father said after I graduated he would have his will changed. He didn’t plan to die before then,” Heath says, his voice filled with raw emotion. I turn into his arms and see his brown eyes flaring with devastation. “This doesn’t have to change anything. It’s just money, Catrina. We can still leave. You don’t need that trust fund.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” Elliot cuts in. “Lincoln Holdings is C-Trades’ biggest investor. If Catrina leaves, we’ll pull our funds and everything your father worked for will die right alongside him.”