by Mandy Harbin
He laughed through a shocked expression. Her comment had totally caught him off guard. “I don’t know, babe. But we can be bastards sometimes.”
Cassie munched on an onion ring. “I mean, wouldn’t you like it if I tied myself to the bed and let Sasha spank my ass for your viewing pleasure?”
“Cassie!” Sasha winced, but Cassie waved her off, feeling somewhat unbalanced by the maneuver.
“I’d watch any chick spank that fine ass of yours,” some guy sitting next to Cassie said as she wobbled into him.
She leaned on the balding, middle-aged man. “Awww, now, you’re sweet.”
He reached up and patted her back, letting his hand linger. Chip scowled. “Hands off, man. She asked me that question.”
The guy lifted his hands innocently and then went back to his beer. Chip leaned on the bar, glancing back and forth between Sasha and Cassie. “You let her do that?” he whispered with a smile.
“Uh-huh.” She took another bite of her burger. “That’s why guys are such dickheads. They get you off and then get you fired,” she mumbled around a full mouth. Then she downed the rest of her martini. “I need more.”
“I’ll get you some water.”
“I don’t want—” She turned to look at Sasha. “He just walked away.”
“Eat your burger. Then he might fix you another martini.”
Cassie was swallowing another bite when Chip walked over with her water. She frowned but didn’t argue. She ate about half of her burger and rings and drank all of her water. “Chiiiiip,” Cassie called out. He walked over to her. “I-I finished my food and my water. I want c’nother martini now. Sasha drives me home tonight.”
“How about I make you a martini and you tell me about your week?”
She grudgingly nodded. She didn’t really want to rehash everything, but if it got her more alcohol, she’d comply.
Chip walked back over, handing Cassie her drink. “I even put extra olives in it for you.”
“Oooh, yummy. I love olives.” She immediately started eating them as Chip mumbled something to Sasha about some virgin something-or-other.
“So tell me about your week,” he pressed.
Cassie mumbled the tale, stumbling through the details, and leaned on Sasha to help fill in when she either got too tired or too confused to continue. This alcohol stuff was great but really messed with her concentration. By the time she’d finished, she was crashing from her buzz. Oh, she was drunk as a skunk, but reliving the nightmare of this past week was a major downer. She laid her head on the bar, trying to fight the emotions coming over her. When Chip stroked her hair, she had to fight the tears. His touch was so gentle.
And so real.
There wasn’t a computer monitor or a phone screen between them. She needed to get out of here before she did something she’d regret. Leaving her head on the bar, Cassie turned to Sasha. “I’m ready to go home now. Can you pull the car up to the door, so I don’t have to walk far?”
“Sure thing, girl.”
Sasha hopped down, and Cassie sat up, the sudden movement making her bladder scream. How many drinks did she have anyway? She slid off the stool and realized she didn’t remember how to work her feet. It was a strange feeling knowing she was too drunk to walk but thinking she could pretend she was fine. She looked up at Chip, and he had a concerned look on his face, arms braced as if he were ready to run around to her. “Where’s the bathroom?”
“It’s down the hall.” He pointed to the left, and Cassie mentally gauged the three hundred miles she’d have to walk to get there. She looked at Chip again.
“Can you help me?”
“Sure. Stay right there.” He walked over to her and wrapped his arm around her waist. “C’mon, babe.” He gently walked her to the bathroom and helped her in. Then he stood outside while she took care of her business. When she was finished, he helped her out. “I’m sorry you had such a bad week,” he whispered.
Cassie stopped and looked up at him. They stared at each other in the narrow hall, the music muffled by the doors blocking the entrance. She reached up and stroked his cheek, which went hard as he gritted his teeth. She knew this wasn’t the man she loved. She just wanted someone to take the pain away.
Leaning up, she brushed her lips across his. When he didn’t open for her, she licked the seam, probing for entry. He groaned, opening up for her invasion. After a few seconds, he slid his hands into her hair and kissed her back. When Cassie shut her eyes, it wasn’t Chip she saw. It wasn’t Chip who kissed her so passionately. And it wasn’t Chip she wrapped her arms around and clung to.
He broke away, gasping into her hair. “Cassie, babe, you’re hurting, and you’re drunk. I can’t take advantage of your vulnerability like that. Not like this.” He pulled away and guided her out of the bar and helped her into the car.
Why couldn’t she have fallen in love with Chip? He was a good guy. He didn’t want to hurt her. He was obviously attracted to her, but he put her needs above his own.
And yet she tried to use him to take away the pain of what Ian had done to her.
How did that make her any better than Ian?
Chapter Eleven
The world looked different when one was hungover. The soft light filtering in through the curtains felt like looking directly into the blazing sun. The birds chirping merrily sounded like hawks screeching while in attack mode, circling their prey.
Cassie didn’t remember much after her third martini. Why did her breath smell like onions? She should’ve stuck with ice cream and pretzels. She crawled out of bed, her back howling in protest as she tried to move. She had to brush her teeth. If she continued to taste onions, she’d puke.
She just might puke anyway.
Holy crap, she looked like a horror beauty queen. Her hair was stuck to the side of her face, and mascara ran halfway down her cheeks. She quickly brushed her teeth, trying to ignore her revolting stomach. Then she crept to the shower to clean up the mess that was her face and hair. Too bad she couldn’t find an easy fix to clean up her life. Thank God her head was pounding too much for her to continue down that train of thought.
When she got dressed, she decided to take advantage of it being Saturday and go clean out her desk. The only time anyone worked on the weekends was during major deadlines or kissing up for promotions. She highly doubted anybody was feeling overly eager to put in extra time nowadays.
She stopped for coffee because she needed some serious caffeine and called Sasha to get the skinny on what went down last night. After the initial hellos and Cassie telling Sasha she was going to clean out her desk, Cassie braced herself for the information she sought. To her total embarrassment, Sasha relayed every humiliating detail up until she went to get the car. Then she snickered.
“Chip brought you out, and he was acting a little peculiar. I would’ve asked what happened, but after he fastened your seatbelt, you leaned over and kissed him before passing out. I took it by his reaction that it wasn’t the first time you’d done that.”
“Oh God, I kissed him!”
“Big, wet, moaning, sloppy kiss. Gotta say, it made me want to spank your ass again.” She laughed. “Maybe we should just be lesbians. Who needs men?”
She joked to ease Cassie’s mortification. It wasn’t working. She wasn’t able to stop the agonizing moan that escaped her lips.
“Hey, hey, stop that wounded-animal sound. He looked over at me and told me to tell you not to feel guilty about a damn thing. I promise that’s what he said. Then he wanted me to let you know that you can give him a call when you were ready.” She paused. “He knows you’re heartbroken right now, and he’s seriously interested in you.”
“I wish it were that simple, Sasha.”
“I know you fell hard, girl. You’ll get over that dickhead, and when you do, you’ll waltz into that bar and claim another man.”
As handsome and nice as Chip was, Cassie still couldn’t bring herself to think of him—or any other man—in that way. Only
one man would do it for her. She sighed hopelessly. “Would I have to eat your pussy if we tried out this lesbian thing?”
Sasha made a choking sound. “Eww, gross. How ’bout we stick to dildos and only touch ourselves? I still need some dick if I’m going to play with a girl.”
“Then we’d just be masturbating in front of each other, and I think I’m good on that.” She tried to joke, but the memories of doing that with Ian were too painful right now. She pulled into the parking lot as she tried clearing her head. “I’m here. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Bye, girl. Call me if you need anything.”
Cassie hung up and walked into the building. It felt very surreal being here, knowing this wasn’t her job anymore. She guessed if she didn’t want to burn this bridge as her only job reference, she’d better officially put in some kind of notice. Just walking out with her tail tucked between her legs without any kind of word to her boss was unprofessional. She really hated taking the high road. Thoughts of uprooting all the plants and turning off the air conditioner in the server room crossed her mind. A little evil laugh made her feel better. Ah, if only she were a vindictive person.
She made her way to her desk and booted up her computer. At least they hadn’t disabled her network account yet. She figured Richard was hoping she’d be back next week. He’d be wrong. She opened her email and saw the hundreds of messages. Ugh! She sorted them by name and only read the ones from her boss, which were all work related. She had several in there from Ian, but she just couldn’t read them. She was a coward. So what?
She submitted leave for the time she was out last week and a vacation request for the rest of the month. She was just going to resign early, but she wasn’t sure what that’d do to her severance package. Those shitheads would be paying her for the six months they owed her. If her vacation time was denied, she’d reevaluate her circumstances.
Cassie cleaned out her desk, shredding old paperwork that nobody needed, and packed up her personal belongings. When she was finished, her desk resembled many others around her. It looked as if she wasn’t the only scorned employee who didn’t want to stick around for the guillotine. As she picked up her box, she noticed her message button blinking on her phone. She stared at it and considered listening to them all, but she knew at least one, if not a lot, of those would be from Ian. If she couldn’t bring herself to read his emails, no way was she able to listen to his voice. Besides, if any of the messages were work related, it really didn’t matter. She clutched her box tighter and strode purposely toward the front door, never looking back.
She felt really proud of herself. She didn’t cry until she was on the freeway, but once she started, she bawled uncontrollably. She’d kept her feelings numb, not allowing herself to grieve for what she’d truly lost, and now those emotions were pouring out of her. She pulled over onto the shoulder and buried her head in her hands, letting the tears fall. After she cried for a while, she figured she needed to get home before someone pulled over and checked on her. People were kind in the South. They did that sort of thing. Gathering her inner strength, she wiped her eyes and merged onto the road. Her breath was hitching and her eyes were sore and swollen, but she only thought about the road to home.
When she pulled up into her driveway, there was a large SUV parked to the side. Crap, she didn’t want company right now. She looked like shit. She didn’t recognize the vehicle and the windows were tinted. Oh well. She slid out of her car and grabbed her box. Whoever it was would just have to deal with her like this. When she walked up her sidewalk, the driver-side door opened, and a man got out. She did a double take when his profile was partially covered from the tall vehicle he was getting out of. She saw disheveled brown hair and sunglasses. When he turned and headed straight for her, she gasped and her body froze.
Ian.
The air locked in her lungs. She couldn’t breathe. She. Could. Not. Breathe! Her body started shaking as she stared at him openmouthed. Open, because she hoped the air would find its way to her lungs on its own since she’d forgotten the mechanics of that bodily function.
He stopped in front of her and slid his sunglasses to rest on top of his head. His eyes were agonized as he looked at her.
“Cassie,” he breathed, her name a benediction. He swallowed, cleared his throat and started to say something but also looked as if he were waiting for some kind of acknowledgment from her.
“You’re tall,” she muttered. Why did she start with that? Must be the nerves.
His somber eyes twinkled briefly at her comment. He shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked on his heels. “Told you I was.”
She nodded and stared, dumbfounded. She knew she had a lot to say to him. They’d never talked about what happened. Shouldn’t she be screaming at him and telling him to get lost? Yeah, she’d do that. She just needed to work up to that point.
“I, um… Can I come in?”
“Er, sure.” She nodded as she started to turn and then gasped when Ian reached out for the box. Their fingertips touched, his lingering before pulling the box from her grasp.
She dug out her keys as she walked to the door with him following closely behind. Her heart was racing and now she was breathing much too fast. If she didn’t slow it down, she’d pass out. They walked in, and she turned on the lights while he set her stuff on the table. He glanced around, taking in their surroundings, then took a deep breath as he faced her. She felt like a feeble kitten standing in front of a vicious Rottweiler. Helpless as his gaze zeroed in on her. Oh he didn’t look ferocious. Far from it. He looked almost as bad as she did. The only reason she looked worse was because she’d just recently bawled like a baby over losing her job. Losing him.
And now he was standing in her living room.
“I’m sorry,” he said, shutting his eyes. She shook her head and stepped away from him. She didn’t know if she could have this conversation in person. He followed her. “I know it doesn’t even begin to make up for the damage and pain I caused you.”
She turned on him then. “Why?” she barked. “Why did you do this to me? Why didn’t you tell me?”
He raised his hands in a playacting gesture. “You have every right to be mad—”
“Don’t you fucking patronize me!” She advanced on him, poking her finger in his chest. “You came all the way out here to speak your mind, so you better start. You don’t get to tell me what I do and don’t have a right to feel.”
He grabbed her wrists and yanked her up against his chest to stop her assault. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I fucked up big time. I was ordered to do that consolidation report, to pump you for information and to keep quiet about it. I used you, and I hated it. I’m sorry.”
She pulled her arms free, stepping away from him. It was hard enough looking at him. She couldn’t deal with his touch. She’d fantasized about those hands caressing her, wondering what they’d feel like on her skin. Now she knew the soft yet calloused feel. She seared that experience into her brain and knew she’d always remember how hot his hands felt on her body. Had he not tortured her enough already?
“What are you doing here?” she asked, folding her arms across her chest. She would not cry. She would not cry. She would not cry. If she told herself that enough times, maybe the tears welling in her eyes would just evaporate.
He stepped up to her and rubbed his hand down the length of her arm. Damn him! Why was he touching her? God, it felt so good. Her breath caught in an effort to stave off any crying she was about to do. He leaned in, his head resting on the side of her head, his lips by her ear.
“I love you,” he whispered.
She shook her head in denial and tried pushing him away. He grabbed both her arms and held her tightly against him.
“Don’t push me away, Cassie. Please just let me get this out. Then if you want me to leave, I will.”
He rubbed his head in her hair. She trembled. He was everywhere, pressed against her, breathing on her. She’d never forget any of this. She couldn
’t believe he felt about her the way she felt about him. It wasn’t possible. He just felt guilty. His arms wrapped around her, one hand fisting in her hair as he groaned into her ear. Her knees buckled and his hold tightened.
“I’ve got you,” he said softly, meaning he’d stopped her from falling, but then he repeated it over and over again, the meaning clearly changing.
“Ian…” She didn’t know what to say. She shouldn’t let him touch her like this.
His lips found the sensitive spot below her ear, and she was a goner. The hurt he’d caused didn’t matter anymore. She’d been more intimate with this man than she’d ever been with any other. Without ever having touched him. She couldn’t fight the need boiling inside her now. This contact was all she’d ever dreamed about, and after everything that’d happened between them, she at least wanted this dream fulfilled.
She moaned as his lips caressed the column of her neck, and he took that as an invitation. His hands tangled in her hair, and his mouth crashed onto hers. Her surprised gasp gave him direct access to the wet heat he sought. His tongue plundered, exploring every crevice and dueling with hers. Ian was kissing her. She’d lain awake at night and visualized what this would be like.
She never dreamed it’d be this good.
She pulled away to breathe, and he kissed and nipped at her neck. When she buried her fingers in his hair and pulled him back to her lips, he groaned and kissed her again, squatting down and lifting her into his arms.
“Your room?” he asked between kisses while walking down the only hallway. She pointed aimlessly, but he found it. He kicked the door closed as he strode to the bed, setting her down beside it. He continued kissing her while they frantically toed off shoes and tugged and pulled at each other’s clothing, only breaking away to pull their shirts free. When they were both naked, he pulled away, caressing her face with his hands while he caressed her body with his gaze. “You’re so beautiful, baby.” He picked her up and laid her on the bed. “You don’t know how many times I dreamed about actually being in this room with you.”