Point of Release

by Remy Landon

  Looking down at her, he saw that she had a smattering of stars tattooed on her back, creating a colorful trail from between her shoulder blades to just above her buttocks. He had never been a fan of tattoos, but this design was artistic and tasteful, and it fit her.

  Sam was entering her now. “Christ,” he muttered. “You feel so fucking good, Liv.” She moaned in response as she slid her mouth farther down Carlo's cock. He felt her nails biting into his taut thighs as she sucked. He was not going to be able to hold off much longer; watching Liv as she gave him head and glancing up to see Sam thrusting into her was intensely erotic. He wanted this to last a little longer, so he focused on the trail of stars on her back as she took him deeper into her mouth.

  “Ah, you lucky girl,” Sam was gasping. “Sucking a cock while you're being fucked...and you're so wet, Liv...Christ, I'm gonna come.” He grunted as he slammed into her one final time, and this, combined with Liv's oral talents, brought Carlo to the point of no return.

  As she slid her mouth up and down his slippery shaft, he closed his eyes—imagining Cassandra, remembering how it had felt to be inside her beautiful mouth, thinking of how much he wanted to fuck her, and kiss her softly afterwards...

  He exploded, the heat from the Jacuzzi causing stars to dance in his brain as he said silently, forgive me.

  chapter eighteen ~ Cassandra

  Sitting on top of a sixteen-hand gelding was definitely a natural high. Not just literally, because Brownie was so tall, but the intoxicating feeling it gave you—the power of a horse contained in fifty-four inch, black leather dressage reins and a Stubben loose-ring snaffle bit. And all of this was in Cassandra's small hands.

  Although she was an intermediate rider, she did as Ingrid had asked and watched—carefully—the dressage DVD's, learning about correct rider position: weight even on both seat bones, vertical alignment, the importance of relaxed muscles and joints. The relaxing part seemed nearly impossible to Cassandra, since she was concentrating so hard on not screwing up. Ingrid had supervised the first few times she had ridden, watching her with a critical—at times, even a hostile—eye. But Cassandra must have been doing a decent job, because by the fourth lesson, Ingrid wasn't bitching at her and just stood there, arms folded and frowning, while Cassandra asked Brownie to do leg yields, shoulder-ins, and serpentines and tried to keep from smiling when he executed each exercise perfectly.

  Dressage was widely known as “the ballet of the horse world,” and Cassandra found herself wanting to learn as much as she could, feeling alternately stimulated and inadequate as she became more deeply immersed. As far as she could figure, she was at the second level, and even though she never planned to compete, she was pleased that her riding was improving.

  Brownie was pure strength and grace. His working trot was smooth but powerful; her abs and legs had gotten in excellent shape riding him. She was grudgingly grateful to Carlo for giving her this opportunity to ride. Ingrid would never have agreed otherwise.

  Today she was finishing her ride on a chilly Saturday morning in the indoor arena. She had Brownie on a loose rein, cooling him off at the walk after a good workout. Her pelvis swayed from side to side with his big stride. He seemed relaxed and content, and it struck her that she was, too.

  She leaned forward to run her gloved hand along his long neck, smoothing his mane that never could decide if it wanted to fall to the right or left. One of his many charming attributes.

  “Hey, girl! You look good up there.”

  Cassandra looked up to see Ingrid's stepsister standing just inside the arena entrance. “Hey, what's up? I didn't think I'd see you again before you left for France. Are you here to work?”

  “Kind of. Ingrid found a replacement for me—not that anyone could replace me, though, right?” Sonya winked. “She wanted me to meet him, and today was like one of the only times we could coordinate. So I'm going to train him, because of course, Ingrid's too 'busy.'” She made air quotes around the last word. “I guess she's going to that Equine Affaire in Massachusetts. But she's going to pay me, so it's all good. And I doubt it will take too long to show him what to do. Unless he's hot, and in that case, I'll take my time.”

  He. Except for the farrier who came every six weeks, this would be the first male to work here since Cassandra was employed. “When does he officially start?”

  “Next month. I guess he used to live around here and just moved back. He should be here in a few minutes, so you can meet him. How've you been, anyway? I haven't seen you in like forever.”

  “I know. I've been good...working a lot, and I'm going back to school part-time next semester.” Saying it made it more of a reality.

  “That's awesome! I always thought you were too smart to be shoveling shit.” Sonya was smiling underneath her baseball cap.

  “I may be turning that into a career...I'm thinking equine management.”

  “Ha! Maybe you can take over this place for Ingrid.”

  “Did I hear my name?” The stable manager walked in, casting a severe glance at her stepsister, who grinned sheepishly.

  Stepping out from behind Ingrid was a man of medium height—presumably the replacement for Sonya. He was dressed in a walnut-colored leather jacket (zipped partway up to reveal the bright plaid shirt beneath it), jeans and work boots. His face was shadowed by the cowboy hat he was wearing, but she could see a flash of white teeth.

  “Girls, I'd like to introduce you to Joshua Bennett, who's going to be taking over for Sonya.”

  Cassandra dismounted, lifting the reins over Brownie's head and walking toward the arena entrance. Brownie's ears were pricked forward in interest; he was highly social and charming and enjoyed meeting new people. She was convinced if he was a human, he'd be in politics.

  Taking off her riding helmet, she approached the newcomer, smoothing back the pieces of hair that had escaped her ponytail. He quickly removed his hat. He was clean-shaven with rugged good looks: close-cropped, sandy brown hair that given length would most likely be wavy, and a sprinkling of freckles across his straight nose and cheeks. His face registered pleasant surprise, and his light blue eyes were friendly and kind, putting her instantly at ease.

  She took his outstretched hand. He, too, was wearing gloves. “Hi, Josh...I'm Cassandra.”

  “Nice to meet you.” Josh put his hat back on and adjusted it. He looked to be in his mid-twenties and very much a cowboy, only without the ego. “And your horse is...”

  “Oh, he's not mine,” Cassandra said hastily. “I'm just lucky enough to ride him.” She flashed a smile at Ingrid, who pursed her lips in response. “His name is British Drummer, but we call him Brownie.”

  “Great looking horse. Hey, big guy.” Josh reached out to stroke the gelding on the withers and was nuzzled in return.

  Ingrid's tone was uncharacteristically pleasant. “Joshua has a very flashy Paint that he's going to be boarding here. And he practices natural horsemanship.”

  A cowboy horse whisperer. Impressive.“I've always wanted to learn more about that,” Cassandra said.

  “I'm no expert, but I'd be happy to teach you what I know.”

  “Thank you—that would be great.”

  “The more I learn, the more I realize I don't know, and the more I want to know. If that makes any sense.” Josh grinned. He had a wide smile—and two dimples. “I think I'll always be in awe of horses.”

  So he was humble, too. “I know exactly what you mean.” Cassandra said softly, and blushed, feeling suddenly self-conscious. She rubbed Brownie's neck and glanced over at Sonya. It was amusing to watch her trying to feign interest in what Josh was saying, since she had never been into horses. It was obvious, though, that Sonya was into the cowboy.

  “Well,” Ingrid said briskly. “I have errands to run, so Sonya, if you wouldn't mind showing Joshua how we do things here, I'd appreciate it. And I'm sure Cassandra will be happy to help any way she can as well.” She looked sharply at Cassandra.

  “Yes. Of course I will.”r />
  Sonya smiled brightly from underneath her cap. “I'll give him the Windswept grand tour first.”

  “Sounds good.” Josh tipped his hat to Cassandra. “It was really nice to meet you. I'm sure we'll be seeing a lot of each other.” The skin around his blue eyes crinkled as he grinned.

  Good God, he was adorable. She felt her face grow warm as she watched him follow Sonya out of the arena. Even though she was far from wanting to get involved with anyone, it didn't hurt to look. And it was good to remind herself that there were other men out there besides Carlo.

  As Cassandra opened the gate to lead Brownie out, Ingrid addressed her. “Something came for you. It's in the office.”

  “Really? What is it?”

  “I have no idea. It's a box. I didn't open it.” Ingrid paused, her expression shifting into disdain. “Mr. Leone brought it in.”

  Her heart seized. “Did he—is he still—”

  “He's not here, if that's what you're stuttering about. I'm not sure what is going on with you two, but don't say I didn't warn you about getting involved with him.”

  Cassandra bristled. “I'm not involved with him. I'm actually trying to keep my distance, but he's being very—persistent.”

  “I don't need to know any more details. I've left the office unlocked so you can get whatever it is Mr. Leone left you.”

  Ingrid gave a final, parting frown and walked off into the barn, leaving Cassandra alone with her quiet horse and noisy thoughts. So Carlo had been here. How long had he stayed? Had he snuck in to watch her riding? What was in the box he had left for her? And why was she even caring about anything involving Carlo Leone?

  It was extremely difficult to ignore someone who was being so goddamned present all the time. He didn't seem to accept that she wanted to keep him in her past.

  She supposed she might as well get it over with and find out what was in the box before she did any of her chores. She clucked softly to Brownie, leading him down the aisle to the cross-ties to take off his tack. Sonya and Josh had disappeared—most likely outside in the pasture, checking out the horses. Josh had a nice manner about him: steady, calm...the kind of person you'd want around horses. The kind of person you'd want around, period. Was he single? Doubtful. Not that it mattered to her; she would be on a self-imposed dating hiatus for who knows how long.

  Brownie was pawing the concrete floor, his signal to Cassandra that she'd forgotten something. A peppermint. Smiling, she fished in her pocket and produced the treat. He munched contentedly as she groomed him. He had the beginnings of the softest winter fuzz, his coat just barely raised as she ran her hand across it. A solid reminder of the winter ahead.

  Cassandra unclipped the cross-ties and led him down the aisle to the open barn door, enjoying the sound of his shoes on the concrete. Squinting in the bright sunlight, she walked Brownie toward the pasture, surveying the fields in front of her that November had washed into pale gold.

  Giving Brownie a goodbye pat, she removed his halter and watched him trot off to see his friends. It occurred to her that despite how shitty things had been lately, there was still this. And she could still feel lucky for it.

  She hugged herself in the stiff breeze and was just about to walk back to the stable when she was aware of someone standing beside her.

  “You look like you were about nine years old, just then.” Josh was grinning at her.

  “Oh! I did?” The wind teased her hair, pulling it across her mouth. She brushed the strands from her lips self-consciously.

  “Yeah. The way you were looking at him. You can tell horses were your first crush.”

  “It's true. I started off collecting Breyer horses and graduated to the real thing.”

  “You ride only English?”

  “I've done both, but mostly English, yes. I take it you're Western?”

  He touched the brim of his hat, grinning. “What gave it away?”

  There was something about Josh that made her feel instantly at ease, which happened rarely when she was around guys.

  She smiled back. “I took a wild guess. Where's Sonya?”

  “She decided she needed a coffee and went to Starbucks, probably for some mocha frappa caramel espresso frothy drizzle thing.”

  To recap...hot, adorable, humble, funny.

  “That's probably not far off. Is she getting you something, at least?”

  “Yep. Nothing fancy for me, though—I'm a straight black coffee kind of guy.”

  They began heading back to the stable with Cassandra racking her brain for something witty to say and coming up empty. Suddenly, she remembered the box. It struck her that she'd completely forgotten about it while she was talking to Josh.

  “I've got to go see something that was left for me in the office. I have my chores to do afterwards, so I'm sure I'll see you.”

  “Sounds good. It'll be nice to get to know you better.”

  Heart flop. “Yes...thanks,” she faltered.

  They walked through the open barn door, Josh unzipping his jacket and taking a seat on the bench by the cross-ties while Cassandra went into the office. There, on Ingrid's desk, was the box from Carlo. It was medium-sized, a generic one with the post office logo. The address labels were typewritten. She took a deep breath and pulled open a desk drawer for a pair of scissors. Carefully, she ran one of the blades along the sealing tape and lifted the flaps.

  Inside were small, elaborately-wrapped gifts covered in thick, silver foil paper and tied with red ribbon. There was a folded piece of paper on top. She opened it to find a typewritten note: To satisfy your cravings.

  The sexual connotation made her hesitate. Uneasiness rippled through her. She was reminded of how she had so innocently opened the envelope from Brock, and it had turned out to shatter her.

  For a moment, she considered putting the box in the trash without opening any of the items inside. But as usual, her curiosity got the best of her. Tentatively, she lifted one of the wrapped gifts, untied the curled ribbon, and peeled back the foil.

  It was a package of Twinkies.

  She felt a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She opened another, and another. Ring Dings. Pink Sno Balls. Cool Ranch Doritos. Blueberry Pop-Tarts. Peanut M & M's. The cupcakes she loved with the hard chocolate frosting and loopy white icing on top. When she was finished unwrapping, she counted twenty junk food packages.

  Relief mingled with something close to amusement, although she was fighting that last emotion like hell. You weren't supposed to think someone you couldn't stand was funny.

  Had he done this himself? She was picturing him in the grocery store, picking them out individually...then buying paper and ribbon and wrapping them up. Probably smiling himself as he imagined her opening them.

  Her stomach growled. She really should just toss all of it, or even send it back to him—and in doing so, make a statement to both of them that this gesture made absolutely no difference.

  Cassandra stared into the box, thinking of Carlo's face—his slow, lazy grin and dimple, his piercing smoky eyes.

  God damn him to hell.

  She reached for the package of Pop-Tarts, opened it up, and took a bite.

  chapter nineteen ~ Carlo

  After brooding over the hot tub incident for days, Carlo had concluded that he needed to put a stop to any relationship with Olivia Malstrom beyond business. For one reason, that night felt almost like a betrayal, even though he and Cassandra were not together. Yes, it had been highly erotic and a welcome release, and it could be considered harmless, spontaneous, alcohol-induced, adult fun. He'd only participated in one other threesome in his life—in college with his roommate and his roommate's girlfriend after they'd all been drinking, and that had led to complications, since the girlfriend decided she preferred Carlo. He didn't need any ramifications from this tryst. Most importantly, he needed to keep the business world separate from his personal life. It would be bordering on unethical for the CEO of a company to be involved with a woman who represented one of
his suppliers.

  Although the threesome had been a major turn-on, truthfully, he preferred being with only one woman, so he could focus his full attention on her—take her beyond her sexual comfort zone and help her experience new heights in pleasure. That, in addition to the rush that a woman's complete submission brought him, was the ultimate in sex for him.

  Olivia was an anomaly. I'm a woman in a man's world, Carlo, she had told him. She had learned to use her femininity and sex appeal to her best advantage. It was evident that she liked to call the shots, but she did so in a fun, playful way so that a man didn't feel that his masculinity was being compromised.

  After the three of them had finished in the Jacuzzi that night, they had toweled off, gotten dressed and had another drink while joking with one another about solidifying business deals. It had been surprisingly not awkward. Sam had left the hotel suite first, leaving Carlo and Liv alone. She had given him a quick hug, putting her cheek next to his. “I would have done this sober,” she had murmured. “I just want you to know that. I totally adore Sam, but next time, I'd rather be alone with you.”

  Next time. She had made her intentions known and put the ball in his court. And he had decided he wouldn't play. Yet if he was honest with himself, Liv had intrigued him. And Cassandra was not receptive to anything he had tried so far.

  And then there was Alexis, his friend with benefits. She had asked to see him several times, but each time, he had declined. He had felt guilty, because in the past, she had been virtually always available for him, and their fuck-buddy arrangement was supposed to be give-and-take. He didn't want to be unfair to Lexi, and they knew where they stood with each other so there was no danger of things becoming problematic, but again, it always came back to his feelings for Cassandra. So he was basically fucked, even when he wasn't fucking anyone.

  All right, he needed to be done with this for now. He shouldn't be thinking of personal things, not when he had so much to focus on here at the office. Wayne Senerth had turned out to be a good choice to take over as president for Dall and was working hard with engineering to come up with a new product to replace Gatekeeper, but Carlo still needed to go through a pile of resumés for someone to assume Wayne's former position. He had turned his attention to the stack of applications when his door opened. Estelle, carrying a manila folder.