Falling for Tyson

by Erica Breyer

  He shrugged. “Sure. Why not?” Was it too soon? He didn’t care.

  “Your mother’s a bitch, Ty,” Max’s words were blunt, but he wasn’t one for wasting words on tact.

  “Yeah, I know,” Tyson acknowledged. “But I’ll keep an eye on her.” Maxwell gave a snort. Ty’s mother needed more than ‘an eye’.

  “Well, good luck,” the man said, tossing a head guard in his direction. Tyson ducked as the thing flew past.

  “What’s that for? It’s a mitt session.”

  “Just thought maybe you don’t wanna get that pretty face messed up before your big date,” Maxwell joked as he walked off. Tyson chuckled and climbed in through the ropes.

  ✽✽✽

  Cassie jumped when the intercom buzzed a minute before two. She’d been trying not to pace at the front door, but it was still a surprise when the strident sound broke the silence.

  “Tyson?” she answered.

  “Yup.”

  “I’ll be right down,” she said breathlessly, reaching for her sun hat and bag. She tried not to skip as she headed to the elevator. He was waiting in the foyer when the doors pinged open. For a second, she stood, almost shyly, in the open doors. She’d opted for a light floral sundress that left her shoulders bare. She was pretty sure they were her best feature, so most of her dresses left them exposed. Thick, dark curls tumbled around her face and down her back. The skirt of her dress flared around her knees as she stepped forward, hoping her strappy sandals gave her legs enough length to stop her looking dumpy. She’d always said she had calves only a cow could love. But the recent exercise had given her muscles a light tone, and the sun had touched them with color. Not too awful, she was sure of it.

  Tyson’s eyes widened as he took her in. He seemed to hesitate a moment before stepping up to greet her, brushing a light kiss against her cheek. It made her want to purr like a kitten.

  “You look amazing,” he murmured near her cheek, and his breath against her earlobe sent shivers through her.

  “Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself,” she said back, deciding not to allow her shy side to take hold. The man looked good in anything, but today he was…edible. Freshly washed hair swept back from his face and a crisp white collared shirt stretched across his shoulders. The top two buttons were open, exposing a tanned column of throat and a hint of chest that drew her eyes down. He’d teamed it with beige chinos and navy loafers without socks. Very cosmopolitan, she thought, admiring his ankles. Could man ankles be sexy? Yes, they could. No two ways about it.

  He’d stood, silent while she gave him the once-over, and she blushed when she realized he’d been aware of her heated stare, but he didn’t seem to mind. Of course, he didn’t. Who wouldn’t want to be worshipped and adored? She shifted, feeling awkward for a moment, and he broke the silence.

  “Can I take your bag?” he asked, reaching for it when she nodded. She clung to her white sun hat, though, needing to do something with her hands. Besides, she was determined to wear it at some point. The ribbon around its broad brim matched her dress perfectly, and she hoped to give the impression of being the kind of woman who could put an outfit together. Of course, it had been Nat’s idea.

  “Dress like you’re going to the polo, darling,” she’d said gaily as if Cassie knew what that meant. “Hat and frock, sweetie, hat and frock.” So here she was, dressed in what she imagined the smart set would wear for a day in the sunshine. Scared out of her wits.

  “You’re perfect,” he said, his smile melting her slightly. “They’re going to love you.” He took her hand in his and led her to his car.

  Chapter 10

  In her early fifties, Veronica ‘Vee’ Barker was as sleek and toned as a swimsuit model. She prided herself on the fact that women in their twenties would look at her body with envy. Her face bore the passage of time, but she held most of it at bay with an unending litany of Botox and collagen implants.

  “Your new friend seems…interesting,” Veronica said enigmatically as she and Tyson stood under a large umbrella. Cassie was seated beside one of his mother’s friends’ teenage sons, who was talking animatedly. Pretty impressive since he’d seldom seen the kid dragged away from his screen for long enough to hold down a conversation. Trust Cassie to find a way to connect.

  “Hmm? Yeah, she is,” he answered, distractedly. Cassie was reaching for an ear of corn on the cob, and Tyson watched as she raised it to her mouth. Plump pink lips parted, and she sank her teeth into the corn, butter leaving her lips glistening.

  “Where did you meet her?” his mother pressed.

  “I’m training her. At my gym.” Tyson was still distracted. Cassie had flicked her tongue out to lick her lips, her attention fixed on the young man beside her.

  “She’s one of your…fighting people?” Vee said in disbelief. Veronica didn’t entirely approve of her son’s career, but the money made up for it. A lipstick-red Porsche Cayman for her fiftieth birthday had sealed the deal. Tyson had bought it to piss off his stepfather. “Well, I guess it takes all types,” Vee was saying. “She certainly seems to be carbo-loading for it.” She shot a disapproving glance at Cassie’s plate. Which had food on it. ‘Thank God,’ thought Tyson. The two lettuce leaves that his mother would put on her own plate later would be purely for decoration. He doubted she’d enjoyed corn on the cob in her entire life. Cassie was licking her fingers now, and the sight of it gave him a tug way down there…

  “I suppose there’s a…heavyweight division for girls too,” his mother went on. She was being catty. ‘Not happening today, Ma,’ he thought. If he didn’t nip this in the bud, she’d feel free to unleash that tongue on Cassie, and he wasn’t having it.

  “Stop your shit, Ma,” he said bluntly. She looked up at him in shock.

  “What? I was just saying—”

  “You were just laying your crap on her. Cassie is strong. She’s fit. She’s healthy. She’s…perfect.” He looked back to where Cassie continued to chatter with the teen, oblivious to the conversation about her. The sun caught the dark curls that draped over her shoulders. His eyes traveled over the gentle jut of her collarbones, which were left exposed by her off-the-shoulder sundress. Her skin was smooth, golden. Everything about her was soft and curved and rounded. Like a young Sophia Loren. Unspoiled. Beautiful.

  “Well…I suppose if you like that sort of thing…” Vee’s voice was coolly dismissive.

  “I do. A lot of us do. You’d be freaking amazed at just how many men like women to look exactly like that,” he shot a look in Cassie’s direction. “And you are too damn thin!” He got up abruptly and headed towards Cassie, leaving his mother gaping behind him. For good measure, he reached for another corn cob on the way. He was going to revel in watching her eat it.

  “Having fun?” he asked Cassie when he joined her. She looked up at him and smiled, quickly pushing her plate away.

  “Absolutely,” she said, and he knew she was being sincere. “Caleb here was just telling me about taking out ‘noobs’ in Fortnite!”

  The kid nodded brightly and shuffled closer to her. It wasn’t a move that troubled Tyson; he recognized the attraction. She drew people to her.

  “Noobs, huh?” he said with a grin. “Sounds serious.” The kid grinned back, then glanced up. Tyson felt a shadow drop over the table and repressed a sigh. “Hey, Barry,” he said, turning to greet his stepfather.

  “Ty-Ty!” the older man boomed, clapping a hand on his shoulder. Cassie quirked an eyebrow at Tyson discretely, and he twisted his mouth in response. “I haven’t had a chance to meet your new little friend yet, son!” Barry Barker had locked his eyes on Cassie in a way that seemed to assess her. She was nothing like the women he’d seen his stepson with in the past…not that there’d been many of them. Nor did she seem to fit the mold of the society belles mingling beneath the trees in the garden surrounding his stately home.

  “Good to meet ya,” he said, voice still booming, reaching out a hand. “I’m Barry Barker, Ty-Ty’s pops.” Tyson
had never taken his stepfather’s name, and it wasn’t hard to see why. There was no love lost

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Mr. Barker,” Cassie said coolly, her measured tone becoming more clipped. She dabbed her lips with a napkin delicately, then set the cloth down. The hand she reached up towards his florid-faced stepfather was as graceful as a ballerina’s. Tyson was pretty sure she wouldn’t be out of place having an audience with the Queen. “I’m Cassie Cataldi, and I’m delighted that Tyson invited me to join you today.” He could tell she was recalling some of the details of their conversation the day before and wasn’t feeling charitable towards the man.

  Barry gripped her elegant fingers in his ham fist for a second; narrowed his eyes at her slightly, aware that she was challenging him…just a little. Tyson sat back and watched closely. “Glad to have ya, glad to have ya,” he said, his voice dropping slightly, but not much. Truth be told, if Barry Barker had his way, he’d be running for a seat in the senate. Sadly, he lacked the cash, the breeding…and the class, to make it a reality. As Tyson watched the pair sizing each other up, he realized that Barry was becoming aware that he was outclassed. If history were anything to go by, the next step in this dance would be some sort of bully-boy tactic. It was half the reason Tyson had grown up with his chin out, waiting for a fight. Barry was bracing for one now, and Tyson felt himself tense in anticipation, readying to defend her.

  “So, I guess you’re one of Ty-Ty’s ‘girlies’, then, eh?” the man said with all the charm and tact of a buffalo. “One of those ring-girls? Or a stripper?” He was running his eye over Cassie’s shoulders and chest. Tyson set his jaw. His fists curled inadvertently.

  Cassie’s response was completely unexpected. She laughed. The sound was warm and amused. “Oh dear…no, Barry, where would you get an idea like that? I’m a communications director at a marketing firm.” The others around the table were glancing in her direction, listening in now. She glanced down at her chest and then up at the older man, who had the good grace to lift his eyes. “You have a beautiful home, Barry,” she continued, looking around. “Did Tyson buy it for you?”

  Barry’s blustering response was rooted in mortification. Tyson had bailed him out a couple of years back when he’d mortgaged the place to fund a business deal that turned out to be an elaborate scam. Neither of them had ever mentioned it, however. Barry shot him a murderous look then turned back to Cassie, mouth open to reply.

  “I’m teasing you, Barry,” she winked at him. “It is beautiful, though. Your gardens are spectacular.” In two sentences, Cassie had thrown his stepfather into total turmoil and then given him back a modicum of pride. Barry recognized the ambit and played smart.

  “Thank you, my dear,” he said smoothly, “I have a landscaper come in once a week.” The guests around them breathed a collective sigh of relief. Inside, Tyson did too.

  By the end of the afternoon, Barry was eating out of Cassie’s hand. And Vee had developed a tenuous respect for the woman who had convinced her mildly obnoxious husband to behave like a gentleman for a change. There was a good chance she’d be welcomed back with open arms. But more importantly, now Tyson wanted to get her home.

  ✽✽✽

  The drive from his parent’s place was weighted with a delicious tension. Tyson had grasped her hand and slid it over his knee, his fingers holding her grasp there as if it belonged.

  It belonged…

  She loved the sensation, his skin warm beneath her palm through the fabric of his pants. Thigh muscles shifting and flexing as he stepped on the gas. They didn’t say much. He asked her if she’d enjoyed the day, and she told him that she did. She spoke about the kids she’d met. The beauty of the gardens. It was easy, empty chatter…but not.

  They’d arrived outside her apartment block, and she didn’t want the evening to end.

  “Would you…like to come up?” she asked, barely daring to turn and face him.

  “Sure,” he said. She could feel the smile in his words. He left the driver’s seat and opened the passenger door while she fumbled with the latch and scrabbled for her bag and hat. His hand was warm in hers as he guided her from the car, once again, feeling like some glossy celebrity about to step onto the red carpet. Except she was in a crumpled dress, and her cheeks were a little pink from the sun.

  He followed her to her front door silently, waiting as she felt around in her bag for her keys.

  “Coffee?” she asked, looking for a reason to keep drawing him deeper into her world…closer to her.

  “Sounds good,” he murmured. His words were inches from her ear as she stepped into her small apartment. It wasn’t fancy, but it was hers…compact, neat, comfortable. She’d spent the past few months warming its walls with treasures from her travels. One of the benefits of her international position. She’d seen the world.

  She reached forward, flicked a switch, turned a dimmer, and the room was bathed in soft golden light. He wasn’t inches away anymore. He was brushing against her, his breath whispering down her neck. She turned, and they were pressed against each other, chests touching.

  “I—” she began, then stopped, her words disappearing into his mouth as he descended to capture hers. His lips were warm, firm, searching. He curled an arm around her waist, pulling her against him. She turned to jelly. Raised her own arm up to drape over his shoulder, fingers curled into his hair as she pulled his head down to hers.

  His lips grew more insistent, and she tightened her grasp in his hair, nails raking lightly over his scalp. It made him shudder. He broke the kiss, dropped his lips to her chin, her throat, her shoulder…and down… Cassie let her head fall back, feeling his hot breath on her chest as he tugged at the top of her sundress. The fabric snagged then dropped down her upper arms as he pulled it over the swell of her breasts. Her breath escaped in a sharp hiss when his lips grazed hot kisses along the top of her strapless bra where her breasts spilled over the cups. And then he’d pulled the restrictive garment down, his palms cupping the flesh that burst free. For a moment, she was certain he’d pressed her breasts against his face, engulfing himself in soft woman flesh and groaning…but that seemed impossible. Was it? Her fingers were still curled into his hair, pressing him against her.

  His mouth was searing heat down her torso, past her ribcage, to her navel, where his tongue dipped in and swirled hotly.

  Where was her dress? Who the hell cared? In a puddle around her feet…

  His mouth had left her belly button and dipped lower, and he was kneeling at her feet, his fingers sliding beneath the lace of her panties. She willed herself not to freeze…her mind fixating on the silvery latticework of scars that marred the smooth skin along her pubic hairline. Colin had hated them. But she wasn’t thinking about Colin now.

  ‘Oh, God… Oh, God…’

  Cassie couldn’t catch her breath. She reached forward to his shoulders to steady herself. He’d slid the silky scrap down her thighs to her ankles, and she was standing in a pool of lace and cotton sundress, and she didn’t care about that either because the heat of his breath was hot against her thighs. Not just her thighs. It was there…just there… She felt the tip of his tongue tracing along a faintly puckered line of scarring, where a scalpel had left its fine mark. The sensation defied description.

  She sucked in a breath. Quickly sucked in another. And another.

  ‘Slow down,’ she tried to settle herself. ‘You’re going to hyperventilate.’ He’d inhaled deeply, breathing her in. She felt his nose nuzzling into the soft curls at the juncture of her thighs. Turned his face and pressed his cheek against her belly, stubble catching her skin. His lips tracked along another faint scar, and she was sure he’d just created a new erogenous zone as he pressed kisses along its length.

  ‘Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God…’

  And then he pressed his face deeper, his hands curled around her upper thighs, pulling her legs apart.

  That sound…that sound… It was her own strangled cry as she felt his tongue dip bet
ween her spread thighs. His tongue sought out the tight bundle of nerve-endings that huddled beneath the tiny hood hidden in those soft curls. And now she was panting.

  Fuck! Panting…

  The little breaths had taken voice; she could feel it hitching in her throat as she dropped her hands to him. Fingers twined into his thick hair, another hand on his shoulder, nails biting in, raking flesh. She couldn’t find her balance. As if he knew, he raised an arm and banded it behind her, supporting her weight. She was going to fall.

  Don’t fall!

  His tongue dipped deeper, sliding along the wet line of her sex.

  ‘Oh God, oh God, oh God…’

  She’d tangled her fingers so firmly into his hair she was sure she’d be left with a handful of it—

  And then something was buzzing. What the fuck was buzzing? A phone, goddammit! His phone? Hers was in her purse. She stiffened, and he leaned back for a second.