by Dalia Wright
Catherine was tight and so wet that he knew he wouldn’t make it much longer. He was determined to give her her pleasure first though. Her body jerked forward as he began rubbing her slick clit again as he sucked her already hardened nipple into his mouth again.
She clapped the hand that wasn’t gripping his shoulder over her mouth to keep from being too loud. He groaned roughly as she rode him even harder, slamming her body down onto his, taking him to the hilt each time.
“God, you feel good,” he said.
“Not as good as you,” she replied breathlessly. “You’re so big...I can feel every inch of you inside me.”
If she kept that up, he’d never make it. Scott grabbed the back of her neck and kissed her, nipping her lower lip again.
“I need you to come for me, darlin’,” he said raggedly. “I promise next time, you’ll have me for as long as you want, but this time--” A particularly amazing twist of her hips had his words ending in a growl. “Catherine, please. Come for me.”
She couldn’t hold back any longer. She’d been on the edge since the first thrust. “Keep touching me,” she begged.
He rubbed her clit faster, kissing the side of her neck now, finding a sensitive space just under her ear.
“Harder,” she moaned, working her hips frantically. “Harder, Scott, harder, oh...oh, God!”
Her head fell back and he was the one who clapped a hand over her mouth this time. She was too far gone to remember it. Her pussy tightened all around him and he clenched his jaw, trying to hold back...but he couldn’t.
Scott wrapped his free arm around her waist and thrust upward, making those gorgeous breasts bounce with each movement. The orgasm seemed to go on and on, Catherine whimpering against his palm while he did his best not to shout from his own amazed pleasure.
When it was finally over, she collapsed forward, resting her head on his sweaty chest as he wrapped his arms around her and caught his breath.
“I don’t even know what to say,” she said after a moment. “That was...that was...”
“The best I have ever had,” he said.
“Exactly,” she agreed. “I’m really glad you decided to meet me tonight.”
He chuckled slightly at the proper tone of voice she’d used and kissed the top of her head. “Me too, darlin’. Me too.”
Chapter Six:
“How in the world are you getting married?” Linda asked as Scott packed a suitcase.
“Mom, we’ve been over this,” he said patiently, stuffing a side pocket with socks.
He’d told them almost everything. Not the part of about his plan to marry Catherine for money, of course. It didn’t matter anyway because that wasn’t his reasoning now.
“I know,” she admitted. “But it just doesn’t make sense. My son, marrying some rich girl he just met!”
“We’re not getting married right away,” he said for what felt like the fifteenth time.
“But you’re moving in with her?”
Scott raised an eyebrow and his mother gave a half laugh, half scoffing noise. “I don’t care if you are 24 years old, I’m going to ask.”
“Separate bedrooms,” he said. Not that it would matter. Remembering the gazebo still made him feel warm all over. “There’s no contract. Yet. I can come back home anytime I feel like it.”
Linda gave him a beady look. “You’re not doing this just because the farm is in a little trouble are you?”
He wanted to protest that it was in more than “a little trouble” but he was afraid he’d give himself away. “I went there with that in mind,” he admitted. “But...I really like her.”
Linda’s expression relaxed. “All right then. Keep us informed, all right?”
“Oh, you’ll get front row seats at the wedding,” he said, swinging his backpack onto one shoulder and leaning down to give her a kiss.
She laughed and waved goodbye from the porch. Eric was driving him to the bus station. Last time he’d walked.
“Seriously,” his father said. “Do not marry this woman for the money.”
Eric Lawson had never been one to pull punches. Scott buckled his seat belt.
“I’m not.”
Eric looked at him for a moment and then nodded. “Don’t do it because you don’t think you can do anything else either. The Navy isn’t the be all and end all.”
Scott swallowed hard and nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
He caught the bus in time and he was standing outside the mansion again. Before he had time to press the intercom, Catherine came running down the walkway and wrapped her arms around him. He dropped his backpack and picked her up. He swung her around and then kissed her on the cheek.
“Good to see you too, darlin’,” he said with a smile when her feet were on the ground again.
“Oh, that looked lovely,” Mavis Cargill called from the front door. “We’ll have to recreate that when the camera crews come in!”
Scott looked down at Catherine, who rolled her eyes. “Some station picked up their option. Just for the selection process and the wedding junk though. I put my foot down at being followed around once we’re married. They’re probably going to keep pushing for it though.”
He put his arm across her slim shoulders. “Most of the stuff I’ve got planned for the first few weeks isn’t gonna be innocent enough for network television,” he informed her, making her laugh and blush just slightly.
Catherine lifted her chin and said, “What makes you think that you’re the only one with plans, Mr. Lawson?”
He pressed his hand to his heart and pretended to stagger. Allowing his drawl to deepen, he said, “Cruel to tease me like that, Miss Cargill.”
She laughed and opened the door since he was carrying things. “Come on, I’ll show you to your room.”
“I can take care of that,” the butler, but she shook her head.
“I’m marrying him,” she said. “I think it’s okay for me to be in his room unescorted.”
Scott followed her up the stairs and down another long hallway. It was also lined with Oriental rugs. He tried to calculate how many thousands of dollars he was walking on, but since he had no idea how much an Oriental rug cost, he didn’t have much to go on.
“Here you go,” Catherine said, opening a door on the right hand side.
Scott whistled low. “Damn.”
She glanced up at him. “Is this not okay?”
“Okay?” he asked. “It’s the size of my living room at home.” The bedroom had a massive King bed with crisp blue sheets and a white down comforter. The floor was hardwood, but there was a fluffy white rug under the bed. A chaise lounge sat near the door to his own private balcony and there was even a fireplace and an armoire that held a television. A carafe of water and a glass sat neatly on the nightstand.
She smiled and pointed to a door in the opposite wall. “You’ve got a private bathroom through there.”
He dropped his duffle bag and backpack onto the soft rug and went to check it out. A huge soaker tub took up a lot of the space in the large room, but there was also a separate shower and a double sink.
“Do you like it?” Catherine asked.
He turned and smiled at her. “Sure. There’s just one thing I think the place needs.”
“Just let me know,” she said quickly. “My parents can get--” She broke off when he scooped her up, strode across the room and dropped her down onto the bed.
“I’m thinking a little bit of this,” he drawled before kissing her.
Chapter Seven:
So far in the few weeks that he’d lived at the Cargill place he hadn’t had to deal too much with anything related to the reality show. Most of it was focused on following the wedding planning. Although he’d asked, Mavis Cargill had informed him that he didn’t need to have anything to do with the ceremony.
Catherine didn’t want much to do with it either and he didn’t blame her. As much as her mother might protest, there was no way this was Catherine’s wedding. It
was Mavis’s showpiece. It didn’t really matter. It gave them more time to spend with each other
They’d started having a drink together on his balcony at night. She usually had a glass of wine, and he stuck to beer. There was no way the cameras could follow them there because Scott kept his bedroom door locked and the balcony looked out over the woods. He loved talking to her. The way she had something to say about everything. She was never boring
And she honestly seemed interested in the farm and in meeting his parents. After he’d lived with her for about a month, they decided to start planning a visit. Without cameras, of course. Eric wouldn’t have put up with that for one second.
“He sounds like a good guy,” Catherine said, sipping her Moscato with a smile. The cameramen had been following her around all day, and she was tired of tripping over cords and dodging lighting equipment.
“He’s great,” Scott said sincerely. “Always on my side, but never afraid to kick my ass. I couldn’t ask for a better father. Or mother, for that matter.”
He saw Catherine’s eyes shadow briefly and he felt like a jerk. She didn’t have the best relationship with either of her parents.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly.
She shook her head quickly. “Please don’t be. With my parents...” She looked into the setting sun. “I guess they must love me. At least on some level. But it’s not a level that’s much good for any of us. I can’t wait until we have our own place.” She glanced down. “If we...if we stay together.”
He reached out and took her hand. “I hope we do,” he said simply.
He never would have thought that he’d feel comfortable about publicizing an engagement to a woman he’d only known for four weeks, but he was actually looking forward to it. Even more so now that he wasn’t marrying her for her money.
She looked at her watch. “Oh, I guess we’d better go on down.”
Her parents had scheduled a late dinner with them to go over a few things about the show. Neither one of them were enthusiastic, but they were planning to grin and bear it.
“Have a seat,” Andrew said. An eternally harried man, he was flipping through a sheaf of papers while he swigged wine with his other hand. “Just a few things we need to go over.”
Scott pulled Catherine’s chair out for her and then took his seat across the table. “Okay,” he said, trying to sound eager and interested. “Shoot.”
“The first thing is a list of scenes we’ll have to stage and reshoot.” Andrew handed a list to both of them. “We’ll need to get started on that almost right away, so clear your schedules.”
Scott wondered what the man thought he did all day, but he didn’t say anything. He was looking over the list when Andrew spoke again.
“And then, of course, there’s your pseudonym.”
“My what?” Scott asked, looking at Andrew Cargill in confusion.
“I think that we should keep the name Scott and just give you a different last name,” Mavis said as she began eating her salad. “That will make it seem more natural when Catherine speaks to you.”
“But...why are we changing his last name?” Catherine asked.
“Because we don’t want anyone connecting him with the assault charge,” her father said absently. “Now, third, we--”
“No,” Catherine cut in. “Wait. Assault charge?”
Scott felt like he’d swallowed a rock. “I--” he began.
“Discharged from the Navy 6 months ago,” Mavis said. “Assault charges. But,” she went on with a sunny smile. “The two of you have such good chemistry that we decided we wouldn’t worry about it.”
“Not worry about it?” Catherine pushed her plate away and took a deep breath, clearly trying to steady her voice. “What kind of assault?”
“On a fellow officer, wasn’t it?” Andrew asked. “I don’t remember the degree of injury,” he went on when Scott didn’t speak.
Catherine met his eyes across the table. He could see betrayal written across her open features. What could he say?
“Catherine…”
“Is it true?” she asked, her breath coming in gasps now.
“I...”
“Is. It. True?”
There was nothing to do but tell her the truth and hope that she would let him explain. “Yes.”
She transferred the gaze to her mother. “And you knew that he was violent?”
“His career was spotless before that,” Andrew said, in what he clearly thought was a logical tone. “And--”
“And we’ll make good television,” she cut in before shoving her chair back and standing up. “Thank you, I think I’ll skip dinner.”
Chapter Eight:
Scott caught up with her in the hallway, but he knew better than to put his hands on her.
“Catherine, please wait,” he said. “I need to talk to you.”
She spun around in the hallway just outside her bedroom door. “Now?” she asked scathingly. “Now you want to talk to me? Where was all that in the gazebo? Or any of the rest of the time we’ve spent together?”
“I...” He couldn’t even honestly say that he’d wanted to tell her, because he’d hoped that somehow she’d never find out. It seemed idiotic to think that now.
“You what?” she demanded, crossing her arms over her chest, holding herself in. “You hoped I’d never know?”
Scott pushed his hand through his hair. “Yes. I hoped you’d never know.”
“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve heard!” she exploded.
“I know!” His voice had gotten louder than he wanted it to. She flinched back just slightly and he took a step away. Intimidating her was the last thing he wanted to do. He swallowed and took a deep breath. “Catherine, I know it wasn’t smart. But...but we don’t really know each other that well yet.”
She scoffed and turned away. “You know me well enough to take me to bed. And to make me feel sympathetic for your poor family farm.”
“Hey,” he said. “Come on. It wasn’t like that. You know--”
“I know that every man in that room was there for money,” she said coldly. “You said it yourself.”
He reached for her, unable to stand the desolation in her eyes, but she stepped back.
“So fine,” she said. “You know my plan and I know that you want to help your parents. Let’s just get the wedding over with and I’ll get them back on their feet. Then we’ll go our separate ways.”
“I don’t want us to go our separate ways,” he said. “Just give me a chance to explain!”
“You had your chance to explain!” she said furiously. “Every night while we sat out there talking about the life we were going to build! Every time I asked you about your military career! Every minute of every day was your chance to explain!”
This time when he stepped forward she held up her hand. “Don’t. Whatever we had...it’s over now. You’ll get what you wanted out of me. Just like everyone else.”
Tears sparkled in her green eyes as she turned away from him and ducked into her bedroom. He heard the door lock. Scott put his back to the door and slid down, leaning his head against the wood. He could hear her crying, even though he could tell that she was trying to do it quietly.
He put his face in his hands. He couldn’t get the look in her eyes out of his mind.
“You’ll get what you wanted out of me. Just like everyone else.”
He was no better than her parents. Manipulating her and keeping her from the truth just so that he could get what he wanted. He stood up and headed back to his room. He might not have started out with the best motives, but he didn’t have to keep hurting the woman he’d come to love.
He packed his things quickly, leaving everything that the Cargill’s had bought to help him play his part. Once his clothes and books had been shoved carelessly into his duffle bag and his big military issue backpack, he slid open the nightstand drawer. There was a sheaf of paper for guests there, emblazoned with the Cargill’s name and the address.
/> He sat down at the small desk in the corner and put pen to paper.
Catherine,
You’re right. I should have told you before. I know that nothing I can say here can make that right and that hurts more than I can say.
The assault happened on a mission. We had a new guy and I never liked him. Not even when I first met him. There was just something...off there. Anyway, there was a woman in the town. A prostitute. He’d been visiting her, but one night he was drunk and he decided that he shouldn’t have to pay. I heard her scream and saw that he was threatening her with his gun.
I lost my temper and beat him up. She ran, so it was my word against his, and he had the injuries. So I was out. I shouldn’t have done it, but I can’t say that I wouldn’t do it again.
I should have told you.
I can’t marry you for the money. Not when I’m in love with you. I hope you find a way to have your freedom.
Love,
Scott
He slid the note under her bedroom door and walked away. The butler spoke to him, but the expression on Scott’s face must have warned the man that Scott wasn’t in the mood.
“Family emergency,” Scott lied in order to get past the camera crews and Catherine’s parents. “I’ll be back in a few days.”
Chapter Nine:
His own parents had been surprised to see him turn up on their doorstep in the middle of the night, but they hadn’t asked questions. He’d been working from before sunup to well after sundown since he got home. If he ran on about 4 hours of sleep, he was too tired to be tormented by her memory.
He couldn’t do anything about how often he saw her in his dreams though. He woke up reaching for her more often than not and he never bothered to try to go back to sleep after those dreams. He either took a cold shower or went out to work.