by Swati MH
Even in the few minutes that we chat, I pick up on the pride Cassie’s dad feels talking about her. It’s easy to see how dedicated he’s been, even given his poor health, to being a good father for his daughter.
“Hey!” Cassie wanders out of her room wearing a short summer dress and strappy sandals that wrap around her ankles, reminding me of vines climbing up a trellis. “You ready to go? Sorry it took me a bit to get ready.” I try not to gawk at the delicious skin of her thighs peeking out from under the hem of her dress, telling myself that it would be both inappropriate and asinine for me to get a hard-on in front of her dad. But damn if I don’t want to run my lips all the way up her smooth legs to the place my mouth has become well-acquainted with.
I think I nod in response to her question, though one can never be sure. I’m still taking her all in.
“Alright, Dad. Don’t wait up for me.” She kisses her dad on his cheek. “Love you. Don’t forget to take your meds.”
“Yeah, yeah. Go have fun, Tinkerbell,” he counters before turning to address me with a firm set to his expression. “Take care of my girl.”
“I will,” I promise at the same time Cassie pulls me by the arm, moving us toward the door. “It was great meeting you.”
“Hey, do you mind if we just pick up some ice cream from the grocery store and go to your place instead?” Cassie gets into my car with her purse and a small backpack that I just noticed. “I actually brought some clean scrubs and a couple other things to get ready for work tomorrow morning. I can always call an Uber back home from the hospital after my shift.”
I lean over and grab her hand in mine before kissing it. “You think of everything, don’t you, little firecracker? Always the planner.”
She giggles. “One of us has to be!”
We go to a grocery store near my apartment and pick up ice cream, a salad for me, and of course, gummy worms. I get my own bag because I know she won’t share if we only get one bag.
“So, your dad seems like a really nice guy.” I lean back on the couch with a bowl of Moosetracks ice cream. The TV volume is low, playing some show she put on where a couple is looking for houses. She has her legs on my lap, sitting with her back to the armrest.
Cassie takes a tiny spoonful from her bowl and nods. “Yeah. He’s pretty great.”
“I know you said you and your mom weren’t very close, but what about her and your dad?”
She takes another tiny part of her ice cream and puts it into her mouth. At this rate, she won’t be done until tomorrow. “Mom was the love of Dad’s life. They met in high school and were inseparable after that.” Skimming a little more off the top of one of the scoops and licking it off the spoon, she continues, “It’s been years since Mom passed, but my dad hasn’t really moved on. So, it’s just me and him. We’re each other’s only family.”
I squeeze her ankle. I’m almost done with my scoop and she’s barely eaten as much as a spoonful. After putting my bowl on the side table, I nod at her bowl. “I’m pretty sure you’re using a spoon and not a chopstick to eat that.”
“I like to savor and cherish every drop of this deliciousness, thank you very much. I don’t need your judgment.”
I chuckle. “No, you clearly know exactly what you’re doing. Need any help finishing that?”
She pulls her bowl closer to her chest, protecting it with her hands. “Keep your filthy hands to yourself.”
I definitely will not.
I run my hand over her leg and up her bare thigh. I’ve been wanting to touch her since I saw her this evening. “When it comes to you, my hands have a mind of their own. And yes, they want to do filthy things to you.” My hand travels farther up until it finds the waistband of her panties. I pull on it and she lifts her hips to give me access. A soft moan of anticipation leaves her lips and I lean in, taking her precious bowl from her hands and putting it on the coffee table.
Her cold lips meet mine as my hand finds her already wet with need. My tongue entangles with hers, tasting the sweetness. “I need your clothes off, right the fuck now,” I rasp into her mouth as I pull on her dress.
She immediately complies, dragging the dress over her body and throwing it somewhere behind the couch. She isn’t wearing a bra and the idea that she’s been bare under the thin material of her dress this whole time has me thickening up dangerously inside my pants.
Once she’s completely bare, I lay her back down and grab the bowl of ice cream. A mixture of anticipation and anxiety hums through her as I take a bit of the creamy liquid and drip it on her stomach and breasts. She inhales loudly as the cold ice cream hits her stomach and a trail of goosebumps erupts over her chest.
Within seconds, my mouth descends on her stomach. I lap and lick every inch of the cold cream off her skin, making her whimper and writhe. Her hand buries itself in my hair as she moans again.
“So fucking sweet,” I groan, not talking about the ice cream.
My mouth travels up to find the trail of cream running through the valley between her breasts and my eyes connect with hers. I want to watch all the emotions dance across her face. I want to watch her get to the edge and hold on for dear life before she begs me to push her over.
I lick my way to one of her breasts while my hand finds the need between her thighs again. “Vik,” she whisper-pants as my mouth teases and nips at her nipple, rolling it on my tongue. Between the attention that my mouth and my hand are providing, she’s breathless.
Slowly moving to her other breast, I lick every drop of the confection before picking her up and wrapping her bare body around the front of me. I’m sure she can feel my iron length pushing hard against her bare stomach, and I’m glad to provide her a prelude of what’s to come.
Walking us to the bathroom, I put her back on her feet and turn on the shower. She helps me undress as we kiss. I’m so crazy about these lips that I’ve lost the memories of anyone else’s before her. These are the only lips that are perfectly suited for mine. She’s the only one who fits in every way.
I walk her backward into the shower without breaking contact between our lips. The warm water washes over her, leaving drops on her skin like sparkling dew on grass. We’re still kissing and moaning into each other when she switches sides with me so I’m under the shower. Dropping to her knees, she takes my length into her small hand and I swear, I have to hold the wall or I’ll pass out. “Cass. You don’t have to.”
But, fuck, I hope you do because this memory will be on repeat inside my head for years to come.
Her eyes ignite before she licks her lips. “I want to.”
I think I momentarily lose consciousness when she puts me inside her mouth and draws me in so deep, so strong, that my knees threaten to give out. A tremble runs through me as I place a hand on her head, guiding her for a few minutes. Her warm tongue drags up my length as a moan escapes her, eliciting a guttural groan from me. I’m not going to be able to hold on much longer. “Get up, sweetheart. I want to finish inside of you.”
I briefly leave her dripping on the bathroom floor to get my wallet out of my pants and pluck the foil from it. Even though I know she’s on the pill, it’s important for her to feel comfortable when she’s with me, especially given what I know about her past. Sheathing myself, I walk back to finish what she started.
Picking her up, her back against the wall, and wrapping her legs around me, I push inside her slowly. “God,” I growl, feeling her all around me, completely encased in her. “You. Feel. So. Good.” I pump into her with each word.
As I start to move, our eyes connect and something so intense and palpable passes through them that I feel the pain of it in my chest. Mine.
It’s something I’ve never felt before. A feeling of being lost and found. Of being free and bound. Bound to her. By her. I know she’s grappling with it too, because I can see it written all over her face and in the way she moves against me. Her eyes say that I’m terrifying her. That I’m breaking the damn decree she forced on us. On her heart.
But, sweetheart, I made no such promise. The devil always takes what he wants.
Holding her round ass in my hands and pummeling into her over and over again, I find a rhythm that I know will make her insides dance. Leaning in, I place my mouth to the shell of her ear so she doesn’t miss a single word. “You can protect that heart of yours all you want, beautiful, but I’ve already taken your mind and body. It’s just a matter of time before I take what’s next in line. What’s already mine. Give it up the easy way or make me work for it, but just know that it’s no longer in your control.”
She doesn’t even have a chance to respond because her fingers dig into my skin and her body shudders all around me as her guttural moan bounces off the walls. I bury my face in her neck, feeling her heaving chest underneath my own, as I continue my pace, getting as far into her as I can possibly go. A tingling sensation builds up under my spine and travels up, cascading all throughout my body as I thunder inside of her, seeing the bolts of lightning behind my lids.
When I open my eyes, I find her watching me, another layer of control breaking from her grasp. Perhaps she’s still thinking about my words. Perhaps it’s me just imagining the same despair in her speckled gaze as in my own. Either way, something is shifting and neither of us can contain it. “Kiss me,” she pants, looking at my lips.
And I do, desperately, and with abandon, as if my life depends on it. Silently proclaiming three words that I never thought I’d think again.
26
Cassie
Mercury retrograde and Venus join forces in your partnership sector, urging you to renegotiate the terms of your relationship and put your feelings on the table. The question is: will you?
“Hey, look at me.” Vik turns to me and then turns back to the road. “You have nothing to worry about. She’s going to love you.”
I peer out the window to relish the endless views of the coastline. I love driving along the edge of the continent knowing there’s nothing but miles upon miles of ocean on one side. No matter how many times I’ve driven on the Pacific Coast Highway, it always feels new and exhilarating. Like I’m in a perfectly balanced painting where the artist has used every color in the rainbow to create the scene.
“I hope so,” I say, finding his lips turned up. “How many times have you taken a girl to visit your mom?”
“Oh, let’s see.” His thumb runs across his chin as if he’s pondering the question deeply. “That would be . . . zero.”
His shoulders tremble from trying but failing to hold in a laugh as I gape at him. “Zero?” I shriek. “You’ve never had your mom meet one of your girlfriends or conquests before?”
“Is that what you are--my girlfriend or conquest?” His velvet-wrapped husky voice does things to me that I don’t care to acknowledge at the moment.
“No.”
“So then, like I said, you have nothing to worry about. My mom will be meeting you as my friend.” His smile becomes all too familiarly devilish. “A friend whose body I like to ravage every time I see her.”
I don’t give him the satisfaction of seeing my smile as I swivel back to look out the window.
It’s not that I’m worried about meeting Vik’s mom and brother today. It’s that there is a lot of hidden meaning behind this visit--a truth neither of us wants to discuss. Okay, so maybe it’s a truth that only I am avoiding but he sees, clear as day. I’ll be spending the weekend with them, and I fear that not only will I be further entangling my life with his, but I’ll also be giving hope to his family in some way.
This is exactly why I’d made the no-hearts rule and exactly why I should have stuck to it in the first place. But the more I want to deny him anything, the more my words betray me, choosing their loyalties.
Some days I feel perfectly weaved, clear about the path forward, hopeful that once Vik leaves, life will resume as it was before. Other days, like today, I’m a tangled ball of yarn, with knots so tight, there’s no untangling them on my own. Where even the thought of life after him makes me heave.
Vik tells me more about his brother and about his childhood as we drive. When he was twelve, he and his friend Tim accidentally set fire to a broken-down car. It’s fun to see Vik get animated while retelling the experience, but my heart breaks a little as he recounts being more worried about disappointing his dad than of his conversation with the police. It’s clear from his stories that Vik and his father were really close, and Vik idolized him. Unfortunately, a heart attack at an all too young age took him too soon.
I grab his hand, bringing it to my lap. “You must miss him a lot.”
He squeezes back, his eyes on the road. “Pops was the type of dad who supported his sons, no matter what. He was strict with us, but he was also fair. Even with Vinnie’s condition, he never let him feel sorry for himself. He pushed us both equally to work hard and become independent.”
“That’s amazing. I wish I could have met him, too.”
Vik stays quiet for a moment. “He would have loved you. He would have seen how strong and incredible you are. It’s hard not to see that.”
His words warm my insides and I look away, fearing I’ll turn into a puddle on this seat.
A little more than two hours after we leave Carlsbad, we turn into the driveway of Vik’s two-story childhood home. I reach in the backseat to grab the bouquet of flowers I’d bought for Vik’s mom before getting out of the car. Vik had said not to fuss, but there was no way I was going to come here empty-handed.
A crooked grin graces his face as he pulls our bags from the trunk of the car. He lifts his eyebrows. “Ready?”
“Too late to turn back now,” I reply, tamping my nerves.
He laughs again, forcing my focus on his gorgeous smile, before coming to weave his fingers with mine. I notice, however, that he lets them drop as soon as we get to the entryway.
My heart beats erratically as the door opens. Before I can greet the woman standing in the doorway, she pulls me in for a hug. Her warm arms envelope me, making me realize how cold I was on a warm August afternoon.
“You are Cassie,” she declares with a sweet Indian accent. “My son told me all about you last night.”
He did?
I hand her the flowers that I’m afraid are now squished because of our embrace. “These are for you. Thank you so much for having me.”
She takes the flowers and waves me inside. “No need to thank. I’m happy that Vik has found you.”
“Ma.” Vik’s voice warns before he reaches down almost a foot to hug her. I wonder if that’s what we look like when he’s holding me. “What did we talk about last night?”
“What?” she retorts, moving through the cozy living room and into the kitchen as we follow her. “What I mean is that you just met her recently. I met Cassie years ago.”
She washes her hands at the sink and must see the confusion on my face. “You came over to Avni’s house while I was visiting my sister, Asha. We also met momentarily at Avni’s wedding, but there were so many people there that it’s probably hard for you to remember.”
“Oh, I’m sorry I don’t recall that. But you do look very similar to Asha Aunty.”
“Ah, good. You call her Aunty, then? You can call me Meena Aunty.” She pauses with a quick glance toward Vik and then murmurs, “For now.”
“Ma.” Vik’s voice admonishes her a little more firmly, and I am positive I’ve turned the same shade as the wilted pink bouquet of flowers she’s putting into a vase.
“I’m sure you’re hungry,” she declares, ignoring Vik’s glare. “I made saag paneer and vegetable korma. I bought the naan from the Indian grocery store, though.”
“Oh, wow, that sounds great. You didn’t have to make all that. It must have been a lot of work.”
“Next time you can come early and help me. I can teach you to cook Indian food since my Vik loves it so much.”
Vik shakes his head in defeat. “Where’s Vinnie?”
Vik’s mom purses her lips and opens a cabine
t to get out a serving bowl. “How would I know? No one tells me anything around here. He said he was leaving to go watch a movie with Priya and that he would be home by lunch. Who watches a movie at nine in the morning?”
Vik clears his throat and gives me a meaningful glance. Ah, he went to go watch a “movie”. “Is Priya joining us as well?”
“I asked him to bring her, but who knows if he will.”
I notice Vik fire off a text before he looks at his mom again. “I’m going to show Cassie around.”
Following Vik through his house, I notice how well his mom has decorated it. The living room is small, but warm and inviting with beautiful Indian tapestries on the walls. Vik shows me his brother’s downstairs bedroom and connecting bathroom. The layout reminds me of some patient rooms we have at the hospital for those who have higher accessibility needs, but a lot homier. As we go up the stairs to the second floor, I stop on each stair to study the pictures sprinkled on the wall. There must be at least fifty black frames in all shapes and sizes. It seems my dad has a kindred spirit in Vik’s mom when it comes to sentimentality.
“Wait, is that . . .?” I squint at a picture of two people harnessed together while skydiving. One of them has blonde hair while the other is wearing a helmet and goggles, and looks a lot like Vik’s brother. His smile, just like his brother’s, could silence a crowded room.
“Vinnie. He did a tandem skydive a couple of years ago.” Vik laughs. “I’m actually surprised Ma put it up here because she was a nervous wreck that day. I think she prayed to all the Hindu gods, hoping one would convince him to back out of it. My brother doesn’t take no for an answer.”
“Wow, he’s a thrill-seeker.” I move to another picture where I recognize a young Avni and her sister, along with two skinny Indian boys--one of them a teenage Vik and the other, a much younger Vinnie.