Yet that wasn’t all he had on his mind—talking. He had making love to this woman until she screamed out his name in the purest form of ecstasy stuck on the brain, and that brain needed a proper scolding when time allowed.
A proper ass-kicking, too.
Sara did not answer his question right away, forcing Casey to ask again. “Unless you feel like being stuck with me until you do, I would suggest you start with the truth.”
She mumbled out, “It’s Sara.”
He drew in a deep breath, flaring his nostrils. “Nice to meet you, Sara.”
“Fuck you!” she mouthed his way.
I wish.
He shook his head and asked his second question before the goo inside his skull took over the rest of his being. “Why do you lie about it?”
Sara crossed her arms over her chest. This made him groan aloud. Again, with the perky breasts heaved up? Really? A man could only take so much torture when not ready for it—or when he couldn’t do a damn thing about it while driving a car.
Her eyes whipped to his face. Casey felt the heat of her glance physically slap his cheek. That look said she wasn’t going to tell him why. He would have to earn the truth from her.
He drove up the on ramp to the interstate, dragging his thoughts from large boobs and lower anatomy. He’d meant every word said. He was going to keep her in this car until the vehicle ran out of gas. Wherever that landed up to be, would be, with any hope, where he found himself fully satisfied and with all the proper answers given him. Or just fully satisfied. At this point, his anger was too uncontrollable to decipher a real difference between the two.
All of a sudden she blurted out, “I have my reasons for not telling anyone.”
This piqued the curiosities tenfold. “And they are?”
She licked her lips. Again, another nervous habit that he knew she would do when she felt cornered. Unfortunately, by doing it, her tongue had left a trail of moisture on her upper lip and he wished only to kiss the moisture off and savor the flavor of this woman inside his mouth.
Damnit! Get a grip, Griffen.
“Why do you even care?” she asked, throwing him off balance.
His eyes glued on the road darted to the dashboard. The speedometer read one hundred five. Time to slow down. Pulled over by the cops would ruin his day… as if not ruined already when finding Sara at Tepper’s and wrapped only in a towel.
Even a blind man wouldn’t have missed the margarita glasses and sex toys under the cabana. Casey’s eyesight, unfortunately, was impeccable; his memory more so.
“I just do,” he said, swallowing down the memory of the towel around her torso, almost painfully.
“No, you do not,” she quibbled. “You care only about yourself, and what you can gain from others.”
An arch brow sent her way—from a man who never thought a woman could shock him…until now. “Wow! Got a bit of a thorn stuck up your ass, do you?”
“Wow! And coming from a guy like you?”
They locked gazes.
“You really are something, Sara,” he elaborated.
“Yeah, something,” she mumbled. She’d purposefully made it sound as if a bad thing.
“Okay…Sara Something, would you please inform my undying curiosity as to why Tep thought you a mousy, book smart woman, far too efficient for him to lose?”
“Well he lost me now, hasn’t he? All thanks to you showing up and ruining my life. What Tep might have thought of me, or felt about me, has no point in this conversation. Bringing it up is only to dump salt in the wound, and I’ll not stand for it.”
“I was friends with Tep long before you started fucking him,” he clipped rudely; the venom coming out of his mouth unfortunately disastrous.
“I never fucked…,” she caught herself saying.
“Yeah, right…as if. You never fucked Tep? The guy has a dick, Sara. Surely you’ve seen enough of it over the last six months. I know they’re your thing. You’d said more than once you like `em large.”
Her glare turned polar. “Fine. You want the truth?” She moved in her seat. “Fine, you arrogant, self-centered asshole! You’re definitely about to get the truth out of me now. Ready for it?” She took a deep breath, looking as though preparing her body for battle.
“Well it is about fucking time!” Casey construed, only making the situation worse.
“I never slept with Tepper. I wanted too. Good God! I truly wanted to sleep with a man worth his weight in gold, and could give me everything I’d ever craved. But he was too laid back in what he wanted of me, for far too long… and it never happened. Same as it never happened with you.”
As he could feel his tan pale beneath his skin, she added more to make it hurt.
“This was the first time I’d even been at his place. We ate burgers, had a little wine. A couple of margaritas were drank poolside. In addition, I probably would have slept with him had he not completely forgotten about poker night. Oh, and I had my period last week. So I should be rather good for any viewing pleasure…if you wanted to ask me that, as well.”
The last part of her itinerary said to make him squirm.
It failed.
Casey smiled at her angry profile instead. “I was going to ask you that question later on, but I’m glad you told me right away. Saves me time.”
His attention turned to the direction of the off ramp; Casey drove down it and stopped at the bottom. He turned right, passing through a marked yield. He had a destination in mind all of a sudden. One, she would likely skin him alive over. He was going to take her back to his place, to where all the trouble began. Moreover, he was going to force the truth out of her, even if it killed him.
She must have known where they were traveling to because she tensed in her seat. “You really think what you’re doing is such a good idea?” she asked, by slow exhale to confirm it.
His eyes turned briefly to hers. “Do you?”
Sara pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Do I even have a choice anymore?”
Casey’s head shook. “No. Not really.”
“Didn’t think so,” she muttered.
Twenty miles past the city limits, he drove the car up his long drive, then directly into the underground garage, shut down the engine as the garage door closed them in, and climbed out of the vehicle.
Sara would not move out of her seat. He had to walk around the car, pull open the door, and physically remove her from the vehicle by using a strong grip on her elbow; which gained him another glacial glare. At this rate, she would run out of glares before he was completely done with her. Good thing too since he was getting damn sick of seeing them.
Out of stupidity and pure foolishness, Casey maneuvered her into his arms, bent her frame backwards onto his car, and put his mouth to hers. She deserved more out of him, but for now, all he could put thought too was kissing her succulently soft lips until the massive need was curbed inside his body.
Unfortunately, any curbing went swiftly to the wayside.
Casey literally devoured her, releasing the grasp to her elbow to slide his fingers into her hair, pulling her head closer to his—as close as anyone could possibly get to another person, without physical melt.
She tasted wonderful—so ripe, so ready—as he knew she would.
Satisfied from the first kiss, he eased back, and Sara slapped him as hard as she could across the face.
Casey felt pain before, but this was done as though she wanted to knock his teeth out. His hand moved to the stinging marks made.
“What the fuck!” he ripped from the back of his throat.
Sara’s tears started to fall. One by one, they slid down her pale cheeks.
He took a step back from the emotional outburst as if slapped again. Regret hit him hard. A half-second, a foolish step forward, and he forced her body into the comfort of his strong embrace.
He could smell lavender in her hair, as he put his chin to the top of her head and she in turn placed her cheek to his heart. He
could feel her unsteady heartbeat battling against her breastbone. His own matched in unchecked staccato.
The moment her ear set to the beat of his heart her body trembled almost violently.
Sara’s sudden tears took over all else and racked her slight frame within his arms.
Casey let her cry. He knew she’d been holding back the emotional outpouring for the better part of the last half hour, if not more. He let her fall apart while in his arms. He let her cleanse her conscience, while in his arms. He let her hate him, then reconcile with that hate…while in his arms. When he felt her stiffen, he knew she was done with the lost grasp on her emotions.
He tilted Sara’s head up to his face by merely his thumb set to her chin. He wasn’t going to kiss her. He was going to let her settle her conscience first.
This had been the plan. Then wide blue eyes stared up at him. The word, “Why?” slipped from her swollen mouth, and he did not have any answer to why?
All he knew was he had to kiss her again, to where nothing would have prevented him until the act done. His mouth lowered, and the pressure built inside him became unbearable.
His mouth did not punish, as before. It caressed. It teased. It tormented the both. Foolish need drove him into more than foolish actions. His palm set to her waist, slipped up her side and cupped the heavy weight of her breast.
Casey’s conscience screamed her sleeping with Tepper was not any of his damn business, and the only reason he’d even said anything about it was because they hadn’t slept together. His fucked up conscience wanted to know if it had been jilted over Tepper—the King of all the playboys. If so, that conscience would have made his actions quite different, beyond soft and gentle. Those actions would have been punishing, brutal, with damaging consequences.
Tepper and Casey made a pact years ago. They would not accept each other’s castoffs—no matter what the incentive was made on the woman’s part. If she’d slept with Tepper, at any time, she would be another man’s castoff, and that would’ve truly complicated his life beyond repair.
Six long months the thought of having lost this woman permanently ate at his soul. Thank God she’d said physical coupling hadn’t occurred. He didn’t know what he would’ve done to her had she told him she’d made love to Le D`oun.
But with Sara, it would not have been love. She fornicated, incapable of loving anyone.
Now she was within his grasp, in his arms, and only his mouth kissing hers’, only his hands moved through her hair, only his tongue driving home the need and want of her body by tender caress.
Only she had ever cried in his embrace; no other woman allowed falling apart when with him.
Casey wasn’t cold. He was merely defensive by nature.
Sara Rogan, Mecenna Jones, Debra Batton… They were one and the same. Yet the woman in Casey’s arms had made him feel alive and helpless, all at once. His defenses were being taken down, one by one. She was destroying a man’s lifework at staying free of attachment.
Now, he had to figure out the best way to keep her in his arms. The last time she’d been there, she slipped from grasp and disappeared off the face of the planet. He couldn’t chance the possibility again. It hurt too damn much the last time.
Unlivable, if it happened twice.
Chapter Ten
Sara wanted nothing more than to remain in the comfort of Casey’s arms, have his mouth kissing her, and his heat against her body, but she was hurt and angry, and to stay there would have been far worse on her psyche than if he’d punched her in the face with his fist.
She was confused by what Tepper just threw away. She was pissed as hell by what Casey had thrown away six months ago.
The memory of Boyd McCarlye was a brittle pain, dug far into her soul, yet his memory was fading into the distant past over the years. At times, it was hard to recall what Boyd even looked like or smelt like, unless she tried very hard.
Casey Griffen was, unfortunately, unforgettable. His hand was caressing her hair. His heat was mingling with hers. All she would have to do would be to open her heart, allow him whatever he wanted of her, and stand aside when the volcano erupted.
Yet, what Sara wanted most in life was not to tell Casey the truth.
Sara’s truth hurt too damn much.
Sara Rogan could not love, because she’d never been loved. She didn’t know how to love, or how to go about learning the tricks of the trade. She could sell her soul, offer her body to the highest bidder, but she could not love another person as she should.
Casey wanted her body. Of course he did. They all did. She did have, after all, all the right parts in all the right places and was continually complimented on those parts as if she’d special ordered them through catalog.
Sara wanted to give her love to Casey, but then she would be back to the very beginning with this man, and would only be hurt again. Perhaps if she wasn’t so needy, she could get over wanting sex with him, so badly it made the teeth ache. Perhaps if he were not so open to her neediness, she wouldn’t be so angry with him.
Strong arms kept her body still. A strong heartbeat proved this as real. The man who held her, without conviction, proved himself as caring. Shit! That’s as real as it gets.
Sara did not want any of this to be real. She wanted her time to be little more than a fantasy; make-believe inside the bad. In Make Believe Land, no one ever got hurt. Villains always died. Heroes always saved the heroines. Damsels in distress were always the ones saved, others cast away. Roses were the color red, skies multi-dimensional blues, and dark shadows hid any secrets and lies.
And if anyone truly fit the profile of damsel in distress it was Sara. Unfortunately, her skies were never blue, nor her roses red. There were storm clouds and ripped petals in Sara’s world, and shadows too dark even the devil dared not dwell.
She pulled from his arms. Her eyes darted up to his. Deep blue orbs penetrated Sara’s exposed soul. She took a deep breath of his scent: spice, musk, man, wealth beyond need. Her sigh to all of what he could offer her came out heavy.
That briefest of second, the entire weight of the world had released from Sara’s shoulders in only a single taken breath.
Casey had sighed too. His mouth found hers again. This time, he wound his arms around her lower back and pulled her as close as was possible.
Sara felt the huge bulge pressing through tight jeans, urging her outer core to catch up to her inner. She felt the tremors in his toned muscles, as he held back from violent want over regrettable desire. She sensed the readiness in the man, as if she’d asked him to make love to her inside the garage. But it wouldn’t be love, now would it? No. This would only be sex—an act of man and woman, made into one.
Sara wasn’t ready for that, and the reason for any non-readiness stared her in the face. It wouldn’t be just sex with Casey. It would be something far more complicated.
Life and its damn complications—just once, she wanted the world to be uncomplicated, easy, and unpredictable.
Instead, she melted into another kiss, another caress, another pairing of matched heartbeats. Her need became near violent, compared to his. The furnace in her core stoked by corded wood turned to unbearable.
Casey wanted her body, and in the want department, she was equally ready for him. The flip of the coin was she knew he did not want her heart.
As her mouth slipped from his, and her gaze met his eyes, she knew this… more than anything she’d ever known in life.
Casey did not want her heart.
He pitied her, he wanted his answers, but that was all. A woman’s heart was something to break by a man—and he figured her to have no heart.
His arms slipped away, leaving her cold and vulnerable. To try to erase such a terrible vulnerability, Sara used humor as her vice.
“We doing this in the garage, or on a soft bed?” She gave him a smile to cover up her trepidations. Perhaps hide her many failures of past, present, and immediate future. She knew she had to tell him the truth and she wasn’t
ready to do it.
“We are going to talk first,” he said. His hand slipped into hers, as his strong fingers sent shockwaves of heat straight to her core.
Damnit! Every time this man touched her, she literally burst into flames.
That should not happen!
Yet it did.
And it had to stop.
Sara tried to pull her hand out of his. This caused Casey to tighten his grip. He gathered his thoughts together and moved them out of the garage. Once inside the mansion, he let go of her fingers and motioned for Sara to take a seat on his couch.
She went there by heavy, dragged footsteps; sat down, melting into the cushions, but she could not feel comfortable under so much scrutiny.
She watched Casey pace back and forth in front of her view. His face shadowed by the wisp of light shining through the open windows behind his back made him look dangerous. The pacing stopped. He turned to stare, creating a lump in her throat.
She couldn’t see his eyes, but she knew they were pinned to hers’ as if stuck there by glue. Sara lowered her gaze to the plush carpeting. She could not…would not…look at his face.
Unlike Boyd, Casey had a face she may never forget—even beyond death.
He took a step forward, knelt down in front of her, and placed his hands onto her knees. This action physically locked her to the couch. A deep, penetrating stare trapped hers milliseconds later.
“Why do you do this to me?” he rasped out.
Sara’s eyes widened.
“I can’t even look at you without wanting you.” He looked near reluctant to speak such a thing.
Sara’s eyes widened more, if even possible.
“Damnit, Witch! How do you do this to me? I should hate you. I should hate what you did to me, but I can’t. Why is this?”
He was asking himself these questions, not her.
Sara had no easy answers for any of them even if meant for response.
His fingers dug into her knees. The pressure became painful. “Fucking Hell, Mecenna! I want you so badly, I can’t stop this want no matter what I do.”
Sara’s brain screamed out ‘Try’ but her mouth dared itself to remain shut. Instead, she whispered her name. “Sara.”
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