Catching Cassidy

by Melissa Foster

  Ohgodohgodohgod.

  “Wyatt…” I plead, already feeling the tease of an orgasm. I angle my hips, wanting to reach it and not knowing how. His hand slips between us, and he finds the spot that takes me right up to the edge. Then his mouth finds mine and—good Lord—I can’t breathe. My body flashes cold, then hot and tingly, and I have no control over my bucking hips or the cries that escape my lips. He releases my hands, and I clutch at his body, urging him inside me, but he doesn’t give in. He keeps up this exquisite torture until I’m writhing and begging and clinging to him as the orgasm goes on and on, pulsing through me. When it finally starts to ease, he slides his fingers inside me, and in seconds I’m riding another incredible orgasmic wave. I lie beneath him, unable to believe how good he makes me feel.

  “Wow.” I pant, trying to catch my breath. “I didn’t know it was possible to come so many times in a row, or so hard, or…” I open my eyes, and Wyatt’s smiling down at me with so much love in his eyes that I almost feel guilty. I was so wrapped up in what he was doing to me that it didn’t even occur to me to reciprocate, and boy, do I want to reciprocate. I want him to feel all the things he made me feel.

  “I didn’t know it was possible to love someone this much.” He presses his lips to mine, and it fills me with a second wind.

  When I was with Kyle, he never, ever paid even one-tenth of the attention to my body or my needs as Wyatt has in the last twenty-four hours. He never cared if I was into it or not. Sex wasn’t enjoyable and it was always standard, missionary position with no foreplay or even cuddling afterward. I had no idea sex could be this fun, and I definitely never felt the desire to reciprocate, because there wasn’t much to reciprocate.

  I touch Wyatt’s cheek, playfully push him onto his back, and straddle him. His eager erection is between my legs, and I’m a little embarrassed by how wet I am, but the look in his eyes tells me not to be.

  “I like where this is going,” he says with a coy smile.

  I place my hands on his biceps and touch my forehead to his. I like this position. I feel powerful being on top, and when our foreheads touch, it feels like our thing. He touches his forehead to mine a lot, and I always know that whatever he’s thinking at the moment comes straight from his heart. I want him to know that this is coming from mine.

  “Close your eyes.” I’m not sure I can do what I want to if he’s looking at me. I have butterflies in my stomach, and my heart is sprinting in my chest, but down low, sensuality is brewing in a way I’ve never felt before, and I want to explore it. With Wyatt I want to explore everything. I don’t want to hold back.

  He closes his eyes, and I stay where I am, drinking him in, learning the hard angles of his body. His biceps are firm even when they are relaxed, and I let my hands glide over them and across his chest. I close my eyes, too, letting my heart guide me. My hands travel over the dips and arcs of his torso. I decide that I must have a smart heart, because I’m with Wyatt and it feels so right. I trust my heart even though I screwed up with Kyle. This thought gives me pause, and my hands still on Wyatt’s chest. I feel his heart beating hard beneath my palm. I try to push away thoughts of Kyle, but they’re pressing in on me, and I allow myself to deal with it once and for all in the safety of this room with Wyatt. I think about how we met, at a parents’ weekend function. He was talking with my father, and my father introduced us. I remember thinking he was cute, and I liked that my father liked him. I roll through the memories quickly. It feels like it takes an hour, but I know by Wyatt’s breaths that it’s only a few seconds, and it hits me like a brick. Kyle wasn’t my choice for love. Kyle was my choice for trying to win my father’s attention. But even that weekend, my father paid more attention to Kyle than he did to me.

  Wyatt opens his eyes, and he must see something in mine, because he reaches up and touches my cheek, and his brows knit together.

  “Babe?”

  I blink away the harsh thoughts. “I’m okay.” Looking into Wyatt’s eyes, I know I am okay, and I know that I really do have a smart heart. It’s exactly like Tristan said. My head wasn’t as smart as my heart. What happened with Kyle was my way of trying to become something to my parents that I will probably never be. Like going to New York.

  These thoughts bring a sense of freedom rather than sadness.

  I take Wyatt’s hand in mine and hold it to my chest. “What do you feel?”

  “Your heartbeat.” He lowers his hand and cups my breast, brushes my nipple with his thumb.

  Lord, it feels good when he touches me. I force myself to move his hand away and concentrate.

  “It’s not just my heartbeat. It’s a smart heartbeat.”

  His brows draw together, and rather than explain, I press my lips to his.

  “I trusted you, so trust me.”

  He smiles against my lips. “Babe, I trust you more than you’ll ever know.”

  “Good. Then close your eyes again. This is all kind of new to me, so if I hesitate, let me work through it, okay?” Surprisingly, I’m not embarrassed when I tell him this. I trust him explicitly, and I feel like I’m taking control of parts of my life I never realized had slipped from my grasp.

  I lower my lips to his chest and let them lead me. My hands explore the plains of his muscles while I taste his heated flesh. I drag my tongue over his pecs, then over his nipple, and he sucks in air between gritted teeth. He likes that. I never would have imagined that a guy would like that. What else have I missed out on? What else don’t I know? I lick his nipple again, and it pebbles against my tongue. He reaches for my hips and clutches them tight.

  “Uh-uh. No fair.” I push his hands off, even though I really want them there. I like feeling in control, and I love how his body reacts to my touch. He rocks his hips, trying to get inside me, but teasing him is way too exciting to stop. I take his lead from yesterday and slither down his body, then press my hands against his hips, stilling them.

  He groans and fists his hands against the mattress. I kiss the ripple of his abs and trace the lines in between each muscle with my tongue. Oh, he likes that. His erection bobs up as I do it, like it’s reaching for me. I move lower and wrap my fingers around his hard length. He’s much bigger than Kyle was, much thicker, and way more talented. I smile at the thought and steal a glance at his closed eyes, his fisted hands, and I want to ease the clenching of his jaw. I drag my tongue up his rigid length from base to tip, lingering at the head and swirling my tongue around his sensitive flesh. I lick his shaft again and again, until he’s slick and my hand slides easily up and down while I take him in my mouth.

  “Fuck. Cass…”

  His plea makes me want to pleasure him even more. I take all of him in my mouth, and moving on instinct, I cup his balls. His hips shoot off the bed, and now that I know what he likes, I don’t want to stop. I suck and stroke and tease until he’s practically growling. He grabs my head with both hands, but he doesn’t guide me. He just holds on tight and lets me take him to the edge.

  “Cassidy. Stop. I’m gonna come.”

  I don’t stop. I never did this with Kyle, but I want to do everything with Wyatt, and for some strange reason the idea of him coming in my mouth doesn’t gross me out. It totally turns me on. He turns me on. I’m so wet and swollen between my legs that I can hardly believe touching him does this to me, and I like it. A lot. I love that when I love him, I feel it, too, and that when he loves me, he can barely hold back. I swallow him deep and suck for all I’m worth, working him with my hands and my mouth. I feel him swell impossibly larger against my tongue, and I squeeze tighter as he calls out my name and his hips buck as he comes. I swallow every hot drop he has to give and continue stroking him as his body quakes with a final shudder. When he pulls me up and kisses me without a care about the fact that I probably taste like him, I know he’s right there with me, as deep in love as I am.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  ~Wyatt~

  IT’S ONLY EIGHT o’clock in the morning and I feel like I’ve lived a lif
etime since yesterday. Cassidy and I are drinking coffee on the deck, and I think it’s the first time I’ve slowed down enough to really relax since graduation. Cassidy’s hand is warm and soft and fits in mine like we were made for each other. I feel more connected to her than I ever have.

  “This has been a crazy time, babe. I’m sorry I fought what’s between us for so long. At first I worried that what I was feeling was driven by my parents’ deaths or your breakup with Kyle.” I wonder why words come so easily to me when I’m talking to Cassidy. I’ve never felt much beyond being horny around the other girls I’ve been with, much less honesty one hundred percent of the time. “But I realized that you were right. I’ve loved you for a very long time.”

  She moves from her chair onto my lap and circles my neck with her arms. “I’ve been thinking about that. I’m glad you waited to get together with me. I’m glad our friendship was so important to you that you weren’t willing to risk it. I know we haven’t talked about it, and we don’t need to, but I like that you set me apart from the other girls you’ve been with.”

  “Set you apart? Babe, you and I are on a planet all by ourselves. If I haven’t made it clear, let me do it now.” I press my hands to her cheeks and hold her gaze. “I have never loved another woman. I’ve never wanted to wake up with a woman in my arms. And with you, I never want to wake up alone again.”

  “Finally.” We both turn at the sound of Tristan’s voice. He’s standing in the doorway shirtless, wearing a pair of faded jeans and a smile, and holding a coffee mug in one hand, rubbing the back of his neck with the other.

  “Wow, you have a knack for walking in on the most private times, huh, buddy?”

  Tristan lifts his chin with a coy grin.

  “Everything okay with you?” I ask as he sits across from us.

  “It will be. It has to be, right?” Tristan looks out over the water.

  “I saw your duffel bag. I assume you’re moving in?” I set my coffee down and wrap my arms tighter around Cassidy.

  “I wasn’t sure where else to go,” Tristan answers.

  “It’s cool. Tristan, you can stay here for as long as you want. We love having you around, and it’s not like we need seven bedrooms.” As bad as I feel for him, I think he’s better off without Ian.

  “Thanks, Army.” Tristan’s eyes bounce between me and Cassidy. “At least you two have stopped the ridiculous dance you’ve been doing.”

  I know he means he’s happy for us, but the way he says it stings, because as ridiculous as it probably looked to an outsider, coming together with Cassidy was the biggest risk I’ve ever taken in my life.

  “It wasn’t a dance. It was the hardest and most important decision that I’ve ever made.”

  Cassidy touches her head to mine.

  “Hey, Tris. I’m sorry about Ian,” Cassidy says. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  Tristan runs his hand through his hair and shakes his head. “Thanks, hon, but some things are better left unsaid. I saw the writing on the wall weeks ago, but I wasn’t ready to face it.”

  “It’s that head and heart thing.” Cassidy covers Tristan’s hand with hers. “You have the biggest heart, Tristan, and the right guy is going to see that. He’s not going to be able to resist falling in love with you.”

  She could easily be talking about herself.

  “You know, I wish that were true, but things are different in the gay community.” Tristan’s eyes turn serious. “I mean, love is there, but you know that whole next-best thing, thing? It’s a million times worse with gay men. Some are committed, but think about it. It’s usually the girl who puts on the brakes, right?”

  Cassidy and I share a confused glance.

  “Okay, well, not with you two.” Tristan rolls his eyes. “But in general, guys are like, Wanna have sex? Done. Girls are the ones who slow it down. With guys there’s no one to slow it down, so we sometimes know each other physically before we even know each other’s last names. And that can go on for who knows how long, whereas a girl would know everything there is to know about the guy they’re dating in three seconds flat.”

  “Sounds like you need to be straight.” I can see by his smile that he knows I’m kidding.

  “Seriously, my life would be a lot easier if I were. Finding a guy who’s not out to play is tough.”

  “Even so. Things can change. People can change, Tristan. You just haven’t found the right guy yet.” Cassidy gives me another one of her knowing looks, and I know she’s talking about the way the loss of my parents changed me.

  “Well, it is what it is.” Tristan finishes his coffee. “Are you guys going to the Taproom?”

  “Yeah. We have to get through those reconciliations.” I check my watch. “We’ve got to go in a few minutes. Hey, if you need time off, just let me know.”

  “No way, man. I heard you were left shorthanded the other night. I’ll be there from now on.” Tristan kicked his feet up on the empty chair. “I’m glad you guys are together. So I guess you worked out the whole New York thing?”

  Aw, hell. I haven’t thought about that since we got together. I pat Cassidy’s thigh, trying not to think about when it was last wrapped around me.

  “We still have some things to talk about. I’m not going to stand in the way of Cassidy going to New York.”

  She fidgets with her shirt, and I know she’s nervous. “What if I don’t want to go?”

  “Cass, it’s all you talked about. If you get an offer, you can’t stay around here for me.”

  Tristan rises to his feet. “I think I’ll go take a walk.” He pats each of our shoulders as he walks behind us. “I’m sure you guys will figure it out. Thanks for letting me hang for a while.”

  “Whatever you need, man.” After he leaves I turn my attention back to Cassidy.

  “Cass, I won’t let you throw away a job in New York because of me. We can still see each other. We’ll only be a few hours apart.” The thought makes my gut ache, but I don’t want to stand in her way.

  “It’s not that. I’m starting to wonder if I want to be in a big city.”

  “You’ve wanted to live in New York since you visited with your parents.”

  “Yeah, but I’m trying to figure out why.” She drops her eyes, and I can see this has been weighing on her.

  I lift her chin and kiss her softly. “Let’s not worry about this until we have to. I think we deserve a few hours of just enjoying being us.” I don’t tell her that I don’t want her to leave and just the idea of being without her makes me miss her.

  She smiles, and I swear her smiles have a direct line to my heart, because my chest feels full and happiness spreads through me. Christ, I sound like a chick.

  One more glance at Cassidy makes me not care what I sound like. I love her so much, and as we get up to go to work, I try to figure out how I’m going to tell Delilah about us.

  Delilah is already at the Taproom when we arrive. She’s working through schedules at the desk near the back door.

  “Hey, Dee.”

  “Hey.”

  She’s wearing her favorite girlie combat boots, unlaced, with cutoffs and a pink tank top. I haven’t seen her wear them since we left school, and it gives me hope that she’s starting to find her way through the pain of losing our parents. But something in the way she’s avoiding eye contact tells me something is wrong.

  “How’d it go with the therapist?” I sit on the edge of the desk.

  “It was okay. It wasn’t a therapist. It was a group therapy session.” Her eyes remain trained on the clipboard.

  “And? Is that good or bad?”

  She shrugs.

  “Are you going to go back again?”

  She shrugs again. “I heard you had some issues with schedules.”

  “No biggie. Part-timer called in sick. Charley’s stuck on the boat for a few days, and Tristan was off. Livi stayed late, and Ashley and Cassidy came in to help.”

  She lifts her eyes and gives me a disapproving look that
rubs me the wrong way. “Why did you give Tristan the night off?”

  I shrug. “He asked.”

  “Wyatt, we have a business to run. You can’t just give someone the day off without checking schedules. What if Ash and Cassidy couldn’t come in?”

  The therapy must have helped in some way, because Delilah has been so placid since our parents died that as much as I don’t want her giving me shit, I’m glad she’s finally coming back into her own again.

  “Sorry, Dee. But it’s Tristan. I knew he was having trouble with Ian and I felt bad.” I look at Tim’s office. “Speaking of taking time off, have you heard from Uncle Tim? He’s been out for a few days.”

  “I thought he told you he was taking time off.”

  “Just the first day. Cassidy has questions about invoices. I guess we’ll have to just work our way through.” I debate not telling her about me and Cassidy yet, but I know the minute she sees how we look at each other she’ll figure it out. Luckily, Cassidy is out front with Livi, so I have a few minutes before she sees us together and calls me on it.

  “Speaking of Cassidy, um…”

  Delilah sets her pen down. “What? Did she get the job offer? Is she going to New York?”

  “No offer yet, but, well, there’s only one way to tell you this.”

  “You slept with her.” Delilah’s deadpan gaze worries me.

  “It’s not like that, Dee.”

  “Wyatt! What are you thinking?” She turns away and crosses her arms.

  “I love her, Delilah. Jesus. Do you think I’m stupid? I tried to fight it because I didn’t want to risk our friendship, but I couldn’t. She couldn’t. And I promise you, she’s not just a fling for me. She’s everything.”