She shrugged. “My mother…”
“No,” he said, the syllable turning into a groan.
“There was nothing by the time we discovered her gambling addiction, after she was arrested. All of our savings went into paying her court fines and paying back the volunteer fire department. And before you ask, no, I’m not mad at her. I was angry at the time but realized, with age and experience, that an addiction can alter a person’s perception of reality. She’d inherited a piece of land, which she’d put on the market, and intended to replace every cent she took plus interest once it’d sold. She believed she could make it possible for both of us to get out from under my father’s thumb for good. But the realtors had no luck in selling the land, the thugs representing the man she owed a large sum of money to came calling, and she got desperate, embezzled the funds to pay them off, and got caught.”
And that was the point his father had gotten involved. He’d discovered the deficit in the volunteer fire department’s building account, and when he’d confronted Mrs. Villalobos, she’d confessed all and showed him the contract that had been signed on the land, which had fallen through when the potential buyers had pulled out of the area at the last minute, and then the fire department’s secretary had discovered the loss and reported it, implicating them both. Her for taking the money and him for covering it up. The court had seized the land she’d tried to sell and sold it for a fraction of what it was worth.
He squeezed her hand and tugged her back into the living room, having no difficulty imagining her quiet and affectionate mother’s remorse when everything imploded.
“Dad told me I could still go to Berklee, if I was determined to leave Divine and all the family who cared about me, but it would just be delayed for a bit. If I still wanted to go, I had no choice but to do as he asked. You know how he was with the family members who worked for him. None of that changed, but I kept my dream in front of me and tried to write on my own. Two years turned into three. I needed to help out financially at home, too, and soon very little money was going into my school account. Mom was released from the correctional facility, and with her at home, my father was difficult to live with.”
“But you say you wrote during that time?” he said, handing her the glass of wine as he took a seat beside her.
Her smile warmed his heart. “I did. It was a hard season in my life, and I poured all my feelings into my music. I never heard from either of you and figured you’d either married your careers or had fallen in love and were off building families. So yeah, I wrote a bunch. Kind of struggled with the music since there was only so much I could learn in high school and Dad said there was no money for private tutors. That was the age before the Internet and YouTube tutorials,” she added with a grin. “It was a good outlet for a while, but dreams deferred have a way of faltering. Dad’s haranguing only got worse after he filed for divorce. He didn’t want to see her face every day anymore, he said.”
Ivan tilted his head, and she met his gaze. “You know there was never anything between my dad and your mom, right?”
“Of course. I’m not a complete idiot. Your parents were the ideal, in love, worship-the-ground-each-other-walked-on example for how relationships should be. No, once he had the idea in his head that she’d cheated on top of losing all his money, he wouldn’t let it go. His bitterness began to infect me. I got…See? I really didn’t want to bore you with all this.”
“You’re not boring me, baby.”
Taking a deep breath, she blurted out, “I got depressed, and I gave up, basically. I took all the songs I’d written and my guitar and stored it all away.”
“Your piano?” Her entire family had chipped in and bought her a nice, used upright piano when she’d started high school, right around the time he and his brother had met her. She’d been all about her music back then.
Her smile was bittersweet. “Dad sold it within that first year after graduation. He said we needed the money more than we needed the noise in the house all the time.”
He wished he’d known. Why did I never come back?
“Your parents had already stopped coming to Divine and doing any business in the area, going to Morehead instead, I guess, so I never saw them or ran into them at the restaurant. There were some days where I wished I’d run after the two of you on the football field, after we got our diplomas, begged Samson to take me with him, somehow.” She grimaced. “I sound as though I’m whining. Like I think everyone abandoned me.”
“No you don’t. There’s plenty I’d do different if I’d known.” For starters, I would’ve begged you to come back to Dallas with me. I would’ve taken care of you.
“Dad was miserable to work with, much less live with, and once, when I tried to quit, my aunts and uncles begged me not to, saying he needed me, that he didn’t mean to be so ugly. Life had dealt him an unfair hand.”
Ivan couldn’t hide his frown. “They told you he’d been dealt an unfair hand? A beautiful daughter and a sweet wife who might not have involved herself in addictive behavior if she’d had another outlet, if things had been better at home. I think your dad has some responsibility in what happened to her.”
“You mean a variation on the ‘he drove me to drink’ sort of thing? Maybe. All I know is she lived an unhappy life with him but never took it out on others the way he did. So I worked, and dreams of making music, writing songs, drifted further out of sight. Bill came home from college and took a job at the same bank his dad worked at, and my father noticed he was always eating at the restaurant. Dad started…pushing me at Bill—and pushing Bill at me.” She gave him a half-hearted smile as she curled up on the couch and looked away. “I was weak by this point, and well…we got married.”
Stifling his resentment at the thought, he caressed the top of her hand. “It’s the past. You can tell me.”
Tears were pooled in her eyes when she turned back to him, and she wiped them away and sniffled. “I hate crying in front of you. It makes my nose run and turn red.”
“I don’t mind baby, except I know it means you’re hurting.”
“It was a different time, and all the women in my family stayed home once they finished school, if they finished, and they either worked at home if their husbands could support them or worked in the family restaurant to help out. It wasn’t bad for all of them,” she said, putting her hand on top of his. “Uncle Rudy’s girls were encouraged to go to school, and he was sweet to us, but he was the youngest of his siblings. I was so pleased when he made the offer to buy them all out. The restaurant improved after that change.”
“I’ve heard he runs a tight, clean ship over there.”
“He does, and without all the yelling and fussing, too. Anyway, I never made a clear decision about not attending school. It just became more distant and unfathomable as time went by. By the time I’d had Joseph, I couldn’t imagine how to make it work. Bill wasn’t much for music and couldn’t relate to my dream.”
Ivan narrowed his eyes and frowned, imagining the arrogant prick dismissing her talent. “I’ll bet you supported his dreams, though.”
“I tried, but most of his dreams centered around promotions and making more money. I used to play my guitar and sing for the kids when they were small because it helped to soothe them or because I wanted to entertain them. If Bill came home and saw my guitar or music out of the case, he would ask me what I’d done all day, as if I’d neglected the baby or the house. That hurt because I took good care of our home. His lack of care about my dream hurt, but at least he made enough so I didn’t need to work with my father anymore. I was grateful and felt letting go of the dream was a fair trade.”
“That’s not what I’d call fair,” he murmured, trying to keep the attitude out of his tone so she wouldn’t think he was judging her.
She got up and went to the window by the door. “I don’t enjoy telling such personal details, and I’m not exactly proud of how easily I capitulated to Bill. Anyway, by the time Joseph was in high school, I’d been
having recurring problems with my cycles for several years, and it was about that time I discovered Bill had been cheating on me. I confronted him with the proof, and he swore it would never happen again. I guess what he meant was that he didn’t intend to get caught again, but he did…and it crushed my trust in him.”
Her gaze out the window was unfocused, and the slight quiver in her lips and her chin told him she was reliving the memory. Even though it had cleared the way for them down the road, he hated that she’d gone through a divorce. A loving person like her should’ve been cared for so much better, but he didn’t feel right mentioning that. He got up and went to her and put his arms around her shoulders but kept silent, allowing her to collect her thoughts before she went on. Without looking over her shoulder, she caressed his bicep, and he felt her subtle shift as she leaned against him a bit.
“There was no debt to worry about, and once the divorce was finalized, rather than selling the house, he and I agreed we’d keep it so the kids didn’t lose their home. He loves his kids. I’ll give him that much credit. He’s never tried to play them against me. He’s just an asshole to me. During that timeframe I had the surgery done, and after I’d fully recovered, I opened the coffee shop, another dream of mine. Divine Drip took off, and the deal he offered me on the house was one I could manage financially. I will say, even though he enjoys holding it over my head, he didn’t try to cheat me on the price, and I think that’s mostly because of the kids.”
Mentally, Ivan acknowledged what she was saying, but he refused to see Bill as anything other than a conniving bastard, through and through, dating as far back as high school. Well, if you want in her life, guess who you get to see and hear from on every major holiday and birthday.
He kept his grin to himself as the answering thought came to him in a flash. She’d be worth it, though.
Turning to him, she gazed at his mouth, and his lower lip tingled where she slowly brushed her finger across it, lighting up nerve endings and awakening his cock. He licked his lip, catching her finger with a flick of his tongue. Her smile was bittersweet as she said, “And now, for some unknown reason, he wants back into my life…and my pants, evidently.” She chuckled and shook her head and then pointed at him. “You owe me for having to share all of that.”
“Whatever you want, I’ll pay.”
Chapter Twelve
Cassie gazed at him for a few seconds, and he wondered what was going through her head. She’d shared everything with him, like he’d asked, and he couldn’t gauge her mood.
She reached for the remote, and he paused, wondering why she would want to watch television at this juncture in their evening until she used it to change the song selection on the sound system and adjusted the volume.
Setting the remote aside, she got up and held out a hand to him. “I’m glad you pushed me a little, but now Bill and all my other…stuff is uppermost in my mind. Dance with me and make me forget.”
Responding to her soft plea, he rose, took her hand, and circled around her, drawing his fingertips up her arm and around her shoulders. She turned her head to watch him and caught her breath when he dragged his fingers across the ends of her hair, and a brief memory came to him, one from many years ago, on a Christmas if he remembered correctly.
In his memory, Samson had been seated on the couch and she’d sat on the floor in front of him while they were watching a movie. Samson had been playing with her hair, gathering it and twisting it, tugging gently at the ends. The slight stimulation had made her shudder and given her goose bumps. Ivan had gotten uncomfortably hard as he’d watched her reaction to the gentle play, but now he paused behind her.
The song on the sound system changed, and the soft intonation of the next one began, the haunting vocals filling the room. As he wrapped his hand around the base of her ponytail, movement caught his attention, and he noticed the mirror hanging on the living room wall above the couch. He saw the two of them in it.
Perfect.
Goosebumps lifted the fine hairs from her forearms as she reached up to touch him, her hand landing on his shoulder as he stood behind her. He brushed his lips against her neck, beneath her hairline right at the juncture between her neck and her shoulder, and her breath caught in her throat.
“Did Bill know how to kiss?”
He watched her expression in the mirror, the way her brows knit. “Huh?”
“Did he know how to kiss you?”
“Um, I—” She looked up, and he caught her gaze in the mirror, and his cock grew thick as he watched her lick her lips and swallow. “I don’t know. To be honest, I don’t recall…”
“Too bad,” he murmured before brushing his lips against her soft, fragrant flesh, smiling when she shivered lightly. “A beautiful, giving woman like you should know what it means to be kissed. Kissed so you never forget what it means to be kissed properly.”
“He never…oh…” She shivered again as he traced the tip of his tongue from beneath her earlobe to the base of her throat. “That is so…good. He never kissed me the way you and Samson have. I…oh Ivan, I can’t think when you do that.”
“Good. No more thinking, only feeling. Your skin is so silky in this spot,” he whispered before tracing the slightly damp path he’d created with his lips. Her hand tightened on his shoulder, and her warmth seeped through his shirt as she leaned into his chest.
Wrapping an arm around her waist from behind, he began to sway with her to the soft music. She leaned her head against his shoulder, baring her throat to him as she moved with him, and the reflection in the mirror was hypnotic.
“I can’t make you forget him. He’s the father of your kids and has a place in your life because of them. But I plan to help you forget what it feels like to be neglected, to have your needs come second. In my book, baby, you come first. Always. First.”
A shudder rippled through her.
“You’ll forget what it feels like to be left hanging, left wanting.”
“You should know that may be difficult for me.”
“Difficult? Why?” he asked, already guessing the answer.
“It’s…that’s hard for me.”
“What is?” he asked, enjoying the feel of her soft flesh under his fingertips as he continued guiding her in the rhythm of the music, unwilling to let her back into her head, to the place where Bill had hurt her at the core of her being—her own sense of her womanliness.
“It takes a lot for me to…to come.”
He brushed his lips in a light caress from her jawline to her temple. Bill was an idiot for never exploring her sensuality with her, but then the self-absorbed jackass probably hadn’t even had a clue what that meant.
“Think so?” He rubbed his fingertips over her hipbone, keeping her back pressed against him with his forearm. She gasped, and her hips flexed at his touch. He suppressed a groan as her ass rubbed against his thickening cock.
“Oh…” She could barely speak over her panting. “Bill said I took a lot of work.”
“Work?” he asked, tonguing her earlobe. “This isn’t work, love, this is pleasure. I plan to show you just how easily you can come.”
“You do? You are? I mean…”
“Stop thinking so hard. Let me show you.” He wrapped his hand around her ponytail again, lightly tugging at it to tilt her head back, and brushed his lips down the other side of her throat. He licked his lips and then chuckled. “I taste a hint of sugar on your skin, from when you were making the frosting earlier, I’ll bet. Vanilla, sugar, and Cassie. So sweet.” He closed his eyes, but he could sense her smile as her cheek brushed his, and her breathing rasped a little.
She tilted her jaw to offer him better access, and he kissed the underside of her delicate bone structure, fighting the pressing urge to tighten his grip on her hair. Not yet.
“Are you getting warm, love?”
“Y-yes,” she whispered before licking her full lips. They’d darkened to a deeper pink, showing her arousal, and he imagined her nipples and her sweet
pussy were rosier as well. She tried to turn her head, but he gripped the ponytail a little tighter, not allowing her to turn to him. She wanted a kiss, but he intended to make her ravenous for it before he’d give it to her. Have her right on the edge first. He couldn’t just tell her she came first—he had to show her.
Her breath stuttered as he peeled back the shoulder of her top and continued kissing and licking her there. Her rosy cheeks were hot as she rubbed against him, and she reached, wrapping her free hand around his forearm, holding on to him. “Ivan, you make me…” She laughed. “You make it hard to talk—hard to think.”
“Good. I want you to feel. Are you wet?”
She inhaled sharply. “What?”
“It’s okay, love. Tell me, is your pussy wet for me?”
“Y-yes. Yes, I’m very wet.”
“Are you aching and hot for me?” he asked, grinning as her hips flexed in reaction. He wanted to feel for himself, slip his hand inside her jeans, beneath her panties, and feel how slick and hot her sweet cunt was, but he resisted. If she could still talk, then he needed to focus on what was going on up top, in her head.
“Yes, I’m so hot. I…hurt…I thought…”
“Thinking again? What did you think?” he asked softly, allowing her to express herself only because the tension was noticeably absent from her body, except where he wanted it.
“The last time I felt anything like this with someone was…was when I was a teenager. Before Bill.”
Chuckling, he said, “With Samson?” he asked, letting her know it was okay to mention him.
“Yes. He could kiss me and make me hot like this.”
“Good. He loved you and would’ve wanted you to feel good. Now you’re a beautiful grown woman, and I plan to do more than just kiss you, if you’ll let me.”
Her pulse raced at the base of her throat, and she moaned, her arousal and the sensual beat of the music getting to him. “This is how you should be kissed, Cassie, as if you’re the only woman in the world.”
How Cassie Got Her Grind Back [Divine Creek Ranch 23] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 16