CHAPTER THREE

TRAVIS

"You know what they say… Good girls are bad girls who haven't been caught."

She's trying to kill me.

First, by announcing a move sending her thousands of miles away from New York, yet somehow near my own property, and second, by traipsing around my club without panties, providing any asshole a potential view of her wet pussy.

And it's definitely wet .

My fingers sift through the curls to glide from her clit to her clenching hole, circling the hot flesh before giving in to the urge to slide inside. Nipping the side of her neck, I growl, "You've been wandering around my club like this? Dripping pussy juice, begging for attention?"

In retribution, I pull out far enough to lightly slap her clit, and Brooke arches forward with a high-pitched squeak. "Good girls don't leave their needy cunts exposed for anyone to see."

"You know what they say… Good girls are bad girls who haven't been caught," Brooke teases with a shaky breath.

"Trust me, sweetheart, you're caught." Unable to withstand temptation anymore, I drop to my knees and shove the silky skirt up over her round ass. "It's time to take the reward for my efforts."

"Wh—what are you doing?"

"I can't have my girl returning downstairs slick with need." One of my hands reaches up to rest on her soft lower back, gently guiding her forward so her breasts press firmly against the window while her ass pops out like a beacon.

I'm practically salivating at the sight before me, and I haven't even gotten my mouth on her yet.

"I'm going to clean you up with my tongue, and you're going to come like a good girl with all those people below none the wiser."

"What if someone sees us?" Anticipation rings in her voice, overshadowing the hesitant edge of fear. Her body trembles beneath my hands, and I know it's because the threat of being seen is turning her on even more.

Bad girl, indeed.

I could comfort her by explaining how the windows only work one way—looking out—but why dampen her heightened arousal?

"You mean, what if someone discovers me on my knees fucking your little pussy with my tongue?" Her breath hitches as I kiss down one fleshy cheek until my face is nestled between her glistening folds.

Fuck, she smells good.

"Y… yes." The word is breathed more than spoken as Brooke melts into my embrace.

"Then they'll know what a bad girl you are," I taunt, then dive into my prize.

The first taste is spicy-sweet.

The second, addictive.

And by the third swipe of my tongue through her cunt, I know I'm never letting this woman go. She's mine. It's that fucking simple.

I flick and circle—nip and suck—her swollen clit as my fingers rock inside her, teasing the sensitive spot that makes her jump each time I graze it.

"That's right, sweetheart. Ride my face. Stick that plump ass out and smother me with your dripping hot pussy."

Brooke moans and does as I say, allowing more of her weight to lean on me, and I fucking love it. I could die just like this and be happy that it was eating out my girl that did me in.

Forty years of blood, sweat, and tears to build a kingdom of gold crushed to dust by one woman and her delicious pussy.

A faint knocking tickles the back of my mind, but I ignore it. Brooke is swaying her hips, rubbing her slick cream all over my beard, and I'm not about to stop her pleasure for a fucking visitor.

"Travis… Oh my—" A splash of her orgasm lands on my tongue, and I eagerly swallow, grunting in satisfaction as Brooke shudders above me. Gently, I ease her down from the high until the last wave of her climax rolls through and she's slumped back against my chest.

"Mmm… You were very naughty, sweetheart." And good or bad, she's definitely my girl.

Another knock bangs on the door as I nuzzle her neck, sweaty strands of her hair sticking to the soft flesh.

"You should answer them. It sounds important."

"I don't want to. I'm not done with you yet." Spoiler alert, I won't ever be done . But I can't exactly drop that bit of news on her. Not when she can so easily be scared off.

Even I'm unnerved by the power of my need to possess her. I've never felt anything like it before.

Guess there's still a part of that poor kid left inside me. The one desperate to have something of his own. Because all the money and clubs don't matter if I don't have my own woman to share them with.

Brooke eases out of my embrace after another knock on the door. "I don't think they're going to leave until you answer them. Why don't I go check in with my friends while you deal with your business stuff? I promise I'll be back." A shy smile flashes my way as she gestures toward the door, where someone's about to receive the brunt of my anger for interrupting us.

I don't like the idea of letting her out of my sight, but she's halfway across the room before I can stop her.

Jaw clenching as she sidles by Jared, who's blocking the doorway, I tell myself it'll only be ten minutes. Tops. Then Brooke will be back in my arms.

Ten minutes.

***

ONE WEEK LATER

Craggy mountains and green forests are a welcome change from New York's urban jungle. After a seven-hour flight, my jet lands on the private airstrip Braden and I built to access our property easier, and I'm eager to find my errant woman.

Brooke skipped out on me after promising to come back to my office. Rather than keeping her word, she disappeared instead.

Braden: Good luck finding your mystery woman. Are you sure she's worth the trouble? She did dump your ass without a backward glance.

I read the text before telling him to fuck off . Braden Vanderhorn can be a dick, but when we met fifteen years ago, our plans for the future clicked together perfectly. He wanted to elevate his family's chain of hotels, and I envisioned an international brand of luxurious lounges meant to cater to the world's elite—since those were the people I wanted to learn from.

The years since we became friends and business partners have been full of success with little downtime, so when Braden mentioned purchasing property for group getaways and office retreats, I immediately suggested Montana.

I liked the idea of returning to my home state a wealthy success, prepared to shove it in anyone's face who doubted me.

Of course, that was an angry boy's dream, not a man's purpose, so rather than settling in my hometown of Livingston, we chose Guardian Valley. Its quaint history and charming community is the ideal place to relax and recharge.

Or fuck like rabbits , I muse, imagining all the ways I'm going to punish Brooke for leaving me. Spank her juicy ass then fuck her. Tie her to the bed then fuck her.

Basically, everything comes back to me pummeling that tight pussy of hers hard enough that she knows never to disappear on me again.

If Braden knew my thoughts, he'd probably be less smartass and more concerned over the obsessed stalker vibes I'm giving off.

But my secret's safe for now, and no one's going to stop me from claiming what's mine: Brooke Anne Stanley.