Room 4 Rent: A Steamy Romantic Comedy

by Shey Stahl

  “Hit me,” Tatum tells Cason and opens her mouth, standing in front of the TV with her arms in the air.

  Cason takes one of the pink jellybeans and tosses it lightly at her. It hits her mouth but bounces off her and onto the floor where she eats it. “Tanks!” she yells.

  “We had it down to an art earlier, but my aim’s off now.”

  I snort, still sipping my wine. “At least you didn’t knock her out.”

  Leaning back against the couch cushions, Cason rolls his head to mine. “Everything okay?”

  I wait for Tatum to be distracted and staring longingly at her talking snowman. “Found out Collin’s accidental death policy paid out already.”

  He searches my face. “And I’m assuming not to you….”

  “Nope.” My throat tightens. “Like I told Nahla earlier. It’s not even about the money at this point, or the fact that we’re starting over now, but what did I do to him that he would have completely disregarded the future we built together.”

  His eyes drift to Tatum and then back to me, leaning in. “I don’t think I can answer that because I’ve never cheated on anyone. Or done the things he’s done. I’d probably knock the fucker out if I saw him.”

  My heart melts for him. “Because you’re a good guy. Don’t ever change that.”

  His hand inches toward mine on the cushion, underneath a throw pillow. “How long had it been since you guys talked? I mean, did he hint to anything being wrong?”

  “No, not really.” Our fingertips brush, a bolt of easiness working through me at his touch. I shift toward him automatically. A weighted breath leaves my lungs, and I think back to the last year, hell, the last few months leading up to this. “After Tatum was born, things kind of went to shit. I was trying to get my shop up and running and taking care of a newborn. And he took up golf to pass the time. I had to hire a nanny because I couldn’t depend on him or myself in some ways. I’ve always been a shitshow, so while I’d love to say you’re seeing stressed-out Sydney, I’m like this all the time.”

  He motions me forward with a slow curl of his finger. “I’ll let you in on a little secret.”

  I know you bought out my entire Wilderness collection. Of course I don’t say that because something tells me he doesn’t want me to know. My cheeks raise with a smile. “And that is?”

  “I have a bit of a crush on shitshow Sydney. So don’t change anything.”

  I sigh. He’s too perfect. “Well, Collin didn’t feel that way. Soon he was working late every night, and we never saw him.” Emotion clogs my throat. “When I told Tatum that he died, she shrugged it off. That’s how often she saw her father.”

  Cason listens intently, rubbing circles with his thumb on my hand. A deep breath expands his chest. “I don’t think I’d care if my mom died.”

  As much as his admission is shocking, judging by the few instances when he’s mentioned his mother, I’m not all that surprised that he feels that way. “Tell me about your mom.”

  His entire face collapses. “There’s not much to tell.”

  I sip my wine. “She wasn’t a good one, was she?”

  “She wasn’t much of anything.” There’s a slow shake of his head. “Aside from a gold-digging whore.”

  I stare at him, not expecting him to talk about his mom that way. “Wow.”

  His jaw tightens and he draws in a breath. “Ordinarily, I wouldn’t say those things about my mother.” He snorts, shaking his head. “Seeing you, someone who will do anything to give her daughter the life she deserves, regardless of her circumstances, that’s a mother. Not one who dumps her kid off with a nanny.”

  “I had a nanny,” I point out.

  “Yeah, but you worked. She didn’t. And I bet you didn’t spread your legs for every man with eight figures in his bank account.”

  “Well, no, I didn’t.”

  His expression shifts, into disappointment maybe. “I can still remember the look at my dad’s face when he realized that half his team had been with his wife at one point over his career. It’s not something you forget.”

  Jesus Christ. “How’d you have a mom like that and turn out like you did?”

  He stares at me intently, as if he’s trying to convince me of something, and then hits me with it. “Because I had an amazing dad. The right parent can make up for another.”

  I watch Tatum dancing around to the music of Frozen. He’s right. He’s absolutely right. I might not be the best mom and am basically winging this single-parent shit at the moment, but I think I’m exactly what Tatum needs.

  “You leave tomorrow for California, right?”

  He nods, chewing on another jelly bean. “You gonna miss me?”

  “I am,” I admit before I can stop myself. “You’re not the only one with a crush.”

  “I knew you liked me.” He licks his lips slowly. “And you look like you could use a good fucking to take your mind off things,” he whispers, his voice low and gravelly.

  A tingle, a reminder of this morning on the island hits me right between my legs. “Again?”

  With Tatum distracted, he kisses the spot below my ear. “You’re fucking an athlete now, babe. We have excellent stamina.”

  There’s certainly truth to his words. “We have to wait for Tatum to go to bed. She can’t know that we’re… you know.”

  Pulling away, he smiles and winks. “I’m really good with kids.” Crawling on the floor on all fours, he approaches Tatum from behind and grabs her into a hug, growling at her.

  Her laughter cackles through the house, and so begins them chasing one another. I adore his gentleness with her and the way she begs him, “Chase me, boy!” and takes off running the other direction.

  As I sit there, I think to myself, where’d he come from? How’d he find his way into our lives and became the distraction we both needed?

  SHORTLY AFTER EIGHT, Tatum has fallen asleep on Cason. I take her upstairs and to bed, where she wakes up, wants a story, and then another.

  Laying on her bed with her, I run my fingers over her braids, impressed Cason knew how to braid a girl’s hair. “You like Cason, don’t you?”

  Rolling over toward me, she touches my cheek, and I’m reminded that the best part of Collin and me exists in her. “Hims pretty.”

  Oh, honey, don’t you fall for him too. Then we’re both fucked.

  I don’t want to admit it, but there’s a part of me deep inside that’s falling for him. It’s more than a crush. It’s soon, I know. I haven’t known him long, and I fear it’s because he was there when my life was falling apart, and I’m clinging to a reality that doesn’t exist. But it might not be, right? This might be real. Isn’t that how soul mates work? You meet and nothing else matters?

  It could happen, riiiiiiiight?

  Taking another look at Tatum, I realize that might not be what she needs. No, I can’t fall for him. I shouldn’t. Doesn’t mean I won’t, because remember what Cason said? Bad is so much better.

  AN HOUR LATER, I make my way back downstairs to find Cason outside under the pergola with a lawnmower.

  He mowed my lawn. At sunset. Look at him out there with the blue and purple sky behind him. He’s beautiful and doesn’t have a shirt on.

  Collin never mowed the lawn. He claimed he was allergic. My dad, he was a hardworking man and did everything around the house while working full time. So when I got married, I thought I’d be marrying someone like Noah from the Notebook, and he’d build me a house and make all our furniture out of old barn boards.

  Turns out, I married that dude from The Other Woman to a fucking T.

  I step outside, blinking in disbelief. “Wow.”

  “I hope I didn’t overstep here.” He motions toward the lawn that looks like a baseball field.

  Perfect lines on the fresh, bright green grass. One, it’s amazing to have green grass in Arizona. Two. He did a damn good job. “Wow, the lines are amazing.”

  Chuckling, he glances over his shoulder at the grass and then sweep
s his hand over his forehead. “First job I ever had was taking care of a baseball field.”

  “You haven’t lost your touch, I see.”

  He smiles, stepping closer to me, his scent intoxicating. A mixture of man, that amazing deodorant he wears, and gasoline. I want to lick his sweat. It’s that bad, friends.

  I blink out of my daydreams. “I can take some off your rent for this.”

  “Or…” He pauses, and all I see is sweat and muscles bathed in golden sunlight. He’s absolutely stunning in this light. Dark, mysterious, yet so fucking flirty. And then he hits me with his next pitch. “You could let me take you out to dinner sometime.”

  Say what?

  “What?” I snap. “You said you just wanted sex.”

  One shoulder raises. “I’m greedy I guess.”

  “No.” I scowl at him. “I’m not dating you.”

  “Why not?” He looks offended but amused. “And I never said it was a date. Just dinner.”

  Dinner? Look at this guy’s face. No way he’s stopping at dinner. I agree to that and then what? “That’s dating, Cason.” I sigh. “I want to have sex. No strings attached. Why don’t you want that too?”

  He swallows and angles my face so we’re eye level. “I want that too, but I want to be able to take you to dinner if I want.”

  If he wants? And why am I suddenly excited about the idea of him taking me to dinner? “I’ll think about it.”

  Inching closer, he closes the distance between us and brings our bodies together. I can’t think when I’m around him, and I know he’s doing it on purpose. “I need to shower.”

  “Okay…,” I breathe, unable to form any other response.

  His breathing picks up, his lips touching mine. “You want to join me, or is that too committal for you?”

  “Cute.” I kiss him and back up. “And yes, but in my bathroom.”

  “Thank God.” He laughs. “We’d still be waiting for hot water in the morning if we use mine.”

  I laugh, tugging him with me inside the house. “I told you the plumbing wasn’t great.”

  Upstairs, Cason strips down and piles his clothes on the tile floor as I turn the shower on. He steps behind me, pressing our bodies together and running his hand down my curves. He doesn’t say anything as he walks me forward inside the shower.

  I run my hands over his shoulders and then lower over his sculpted, lean body, his muscles contracting in his stomach. Hunching forward, his lips search for more. The spray of the shower hits my back, and I jump, smiling into his kiss when our teeth knock together.

  Before I know what’s happening, he pushes me against the wall, his large body commanding mine. Here’s where I take over. Sliding my back against the tile, I use it for support and drop to my knees, my palms resting on the fronts of his thighs.

  Hello, Cason’s cock. You’re magnificent, and I’d like to thank you for your line drives these past couple of weeks. Here’s your reward. My mouth.

  I touch my hand to the V dips on his hips and then run a finger down the dusting of hair to the base of his hard cock. “You wanna fuck my mouth?”

  He peers down at me. Hunger, excitement, some smugness, it’s all on display in those beautiful blue eyes. “I’ll mow your lawn every day for the rest of my life if this is what I get in return.”

  Smiling, I take him in my hand. Stroking him once, twice, I bring my lips to the head of his cock and look up. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve given a blow job?

  Two years.

  Is that why Collin cheated on me?

  I grasp him at the base and take his silky velvet cock into my mouth. Closing my eyes, I slide my tongue along the underside and press my lips together, pumping him in and out of my mouth.

  His hand moves to my hair, his forehead resting against the tile behind me. He pulls my hair, groans, and widens his stance when he hits the back of my throat. “You keep doing that and I’m going to come.”

  I keep doing it because I want him to come in my mouth. I’m a greedy bitch.

  Unfortunately, he doesn’t and pulls his wet cock away and tells me to get on all fours. He drops to his knees behind me. He grips my hips, and my heart pumps wildly in my chest, anticipating him entering me.

  “I don’t have a condom in here,” he tells me, leaning forward. He kisses the base of my neck, his cock nestled between the cheeks of my ass.

  “You can come in my mouth. Just pull out.” What the fuck am I actually saying? I don’t know this guy all that well. What if he’s getting some on the side somewhere else? I’m on birth control, but still, I shouldn’t have suggested that, right?

  There’s no hesitation on his part. None at all. With one swift jerk of my hips, he shoves himself inside me, and the air from my lungs is gone. Oh, fuck.

  His grip on my hips tightens, and he goes to work. Fucking me. Making me forget all about that stupid cheating husband and the financial ruin following me. I can’t speak, think… hell, breathing without drowning is an effort at this point.

  Pounding into me, he raises one leg to angle himself deeper and, to my surprise, cracks my fucking ass with a slap of his hand. Did he just spank me? And why did I like it so much?

  I don’t get a chance to respond before he smiles. “You’re a dirty girl inside, aren’t you?” he asks, driving into me, over and over again.

  Dropping to my elbows, the pressure builds inside me. He pushes forward until my cheek is pressed into the tile floor of the shower, his hand fisting my hair.

  While I struggle with water going in my mouth and nose, I have one thought. Okay, two. This is how babies drown. And I think I’m going to come.

  Slipping his other hand around the front of me, he circles my clit. “Come for me, baby. Come all over my fucking cock,” he growls, grunting hard with each thrust. “Soak me so you can lick up every inch of it.”

  With his dirty words in my ear, it doesn’t take long for me to, in fact, come all over his cock as requested.

  “Cason,” I cry, seconds before trying to lift my head, but he doesn’t allow me to move an inch. My toes curl, my entire frame shaking and shuddering.

  “Jesus Christ.” He groans, his hand fisting in my hair. His pace falters and he pulls out. “Fuck, I’m gonna come. Put your mouth on me.”

  As quickly as I can, I spin around on all fours. His eyes lock with mine, so intense, so hungry. He’s leaned back on his feet, waiting, breathing heavy, a bead of precum sitting pretty on the head. Panting, he reaches for me, his cock twitching. “If you don’t, I’m going to come all over you.”

  I do as I’m asked, my mouth sliding over his hard as steel dick to the base and up again.

  His hips rise, his hands holding my head on either side. An appreciative moan rumbles through his throat, and my heart jumps in my chest that I did this for him. I hear another grunt leave his lips as he holds my head still and comes in my mouth, his body convulsing and jerking.

  I lift my head to see him slumping forward, his hands dropping to the tile. “Holy shit.”

  “You’re welcome,” I say, sitting up.

  He laughs, shaking his head, cheeks flushed, breathing heavily. “You’re amazing.”

  “Thanks for mowing my lawn.”

  He raises a curious eyebrow and helps me stand. “Does that mean you’ll let me take you to dinner?” Anxiety gnaws at me, a sudden burst of nervousness working through me. With both hands on my cheeks, he forces me to look at him. “This doesn’t have to be complicated, Syd. I’m not going to fuck you over.”

  He doesn’t say any more as he reaches for the soap next to the bench, leaving me with his words. I have no reason not to believe him.

  A pitcher who comes in the game to relieve the starting pitcher when they become tired, suffer an injury, or are letting up too many hits/runs.

  CASON

  Game 30. Twenty-four pitches in it happened. Second inning. 0-2 pitch with two outs.

  Disaster struck.

  A 102-mph ball hit back at me wi
th such force I didn’t have time to react.

  It ain’t pretty, I’ll tell you that much. And the replay, brutal.

  Up until then, pitchers know the line drive can happen. Hell, we expect it, but in the few seconds from the time the bat makes contact with the ball, and you register it, you don’t always have time to react. I took one to the shoulder once, and the knee, but nothing like this.

  The second that guy’s wrists rolled, I knew what was about to happen, and still, I didn’t bring my hand up.

  When I close my eyes, I can still hear the sound it made with my nose and the instant pain I felt.

  I look in the mirror at the clubhouse. Three days in California and I come back with six stitches in the bridge of my broken nose, two black eyes, and warming the bench for the next few games. Not exactly how I wanted to see the midseason play out.

  “No, I’m not calling her back. She’s like having a puppy that can text,” Noah tells Ez in passing.

  I don’t pay attention to their conversation. Ez stops next to me, slapping his hand to my back, his bag slung over his shoulder.

  I turn away from the mirror, not wanting to see the destruction anymore.

  “Your face wasn’t that pretty to begin with.” He nods out the doors of the clubhouse. “Wanna go grab a drink?”

  I’m about to tell him no, because I’m dying to see Sydney since our brief conversation last night while I was getting stitches. Guess who called me when she saw the highlights?

  Sydney.

  Guess who’s falling for me?

  Sydney.

  And then she’s calling me.

  “Hold on. It’s Syd.” I slide my finger across my screen and bring it to my ear. “Hey.”

  “Hey.” She pauses and then lets out a sigh. “I really hate to ask you this, but can you pick Tatum up from Sadie for me? I’m still dealing with the bank, and Sadie has her, but she has something she has to take care of with her boyfriend and can’t take Tatum.”

  My heart thuds wildly in my chest for reasons I don’t know. Maybe because she’s trusting me with her daughter or relying on me. “Yeah, I can. We just got back. Send me Sadie’s number.”